by J D Morganne
“Nano likes most women. He’s a cheating kumaso. You know what that means?”
In Old-World Japanese, kuma meant bear. He didn’t know much about the language, except that Farah forbade it before he was born. He’d read it with Naomi in a book by Takahashi Kazue called Kuma-Kuma Chan. “Bear?”
Beck bobbed her head and glanced at the Terramulken dictionary at his feet. “How–how did you know that?”
“Guessed.”
Beck snickered, but not from humor. “Does it snow in your Door?”
She was asking him about the weather now? “Not in my lifetime,” he said.
“Snow’s here. During the Cold Season. Lots of rain, but not recently. We pray to keep the storms away.” She and Aria both said it, but Aria was the only one to laugh. Then she zipped her lips like she’d almost spilled a secret. Beck brushed over Aria’s intemperance and, ostensibly, terrible secret-keeping skills. “Obedience? Rain? There?”
“Yeah. Not as much sunlight as here, though.”
“I can tell.” She looked him over, stopping at his lips for a brief moment before turning back to Aria. “Tell me more.”
He talked about Naomi kissing him and Kenner’s fascination with history… and Farah. He talked about his mother. Half the jar of wine was waiting to be poured from his bladder when he deigned to meet her eyes again. “What’re you trying to get out of me, Commander?”
“W—making friendly conversation.” She stifled a laugh that would’ve made him wonder what was funny if he didn’t feel so flimsy. “How’d it feel when that girl kissed you for the first time?”
My, she’s bold, Jaxon thought. She was asking how the two seconds before the end of his life felt? “It wasn’t a kiss.”
“Mm, not a kiss? Guess I misunderstood you when you said, ‘she kissed me’ in your droning speech.”
“Do you talk like this to everybody?”
“Yep.” Aria answered for her and Beck snapped her finger in agreement.
“I mean… all this over a kiss-not-kiss? Don’t that seem a bit illogical? It’s not like you had sex with the girl.” Her expression didn’t match her dry laughter. She watched him inscrutably, but not like she was waiting for him to respond. “Did you?”
“Did you hear anything I said? No, we didn’t have… sex.”
“It’s not a bad word.”
Jaxon gripped his glass.
“It feels like…” Aria had calmed down somewhere between the first and fifth number and was swaying her arms to number six. “Like utopia.”
“Hey, look,” Beck started, “on a different beat, I’m sorry about all that stuff that happened to you. If you’re gonna leave, you better be careful. Torchers want you.”
“Who are they?” Now, she was talking about something that interested him. “Are they the Emergence Council?” Had the king petitioned them to bring Jaxon home?
“I don’t know what that is. Maybe something I tell you will help you not get killed.” She told him, after going back and forth with herself on the date, about The Wars.
In the first war, which she’d referred to as Emiir L’lifte—Commander Fallen—Jerus’s and Alasta’s leaders made the decision to apartheid. After a hundred-year stretch of unity, they were forced to create The Treaty of Divii between Earthens and Alastans. It stated simply: No Border Crossing. Beck wouldn’t spill any parameters beyond that. In the second war, Waara Te, Beck was sixteen when she had to defend tiny Jerus against a place called Edie Garden.
She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Now, I’m doing my best to prevent a third.”
“Because of me?”
She hesitated, but finally said, “No.”
“Your soldiers”—
“Ah… my Lions, my babies. They’ll defend, that’s not what it’s about. Jerus is small. I have no allies and I’m in the middle of a shark tank.”
“Get allies.” Jaxon remembered the wine and decided he wanted more. He was sad to feel the tingle disappear.
“Try this.” Beck traded his wine for her moonshine.
Jaxon gulped a mouthful and bitter sweetness burst on his tongue.
“Good? I got Blueberry Pie, Strawberry Shortcake and Dancing Jalapeño too.”
“Oh-sh-no.” Aria rushed over and snatched the jar right from his hands. “He hasn’t eaten. This aint what he needs.”
“Wow, you sobered quick.” Beck took the jar back. “He’s fine.”
“You wanna get him sick?”
“I want to get him sleep.”
Their bickering dialed up the knob on Jaxon’s pounding headache. He slouched forward, closer to the floor where the air was cooler. Beck’s lap was soft… like a pillow. A soft, plump, warm pillow that he wanted to squeeze and mush his face into.
“See?” she said, but she sounded like she was speaking through glass. “He’s exhausted. That’s exactly what he needed.”
Something boiled in his gut. Seared in his throat, tasted sour in his mouth and nostrils. Vomit spurted out of him, convulsing his whole body forward.
“Yep, exactly.” It was the last thing he heard Aria say.
14
Jaxon was unremedied by sleep. He wasn’t anywhere close to refreshed. His headache raged tenfold and an onslaught of tension knocked behind his eyes. He grunted and rolled over into the pillows that Beck or Aria had placed under his head. Had he been dreaming or had he really thrown up all over the Emiir? If he had, the evidence was gone, replaced by a buttload of hiking gear and a clean t-shirt. He snuggled into it, ignoring the linen scratching his dry skin.
He pulled himself up. Beck and Aria had gone, but they’d left a note beneath a wooden watch. The letter T had two lines instead of three and the A looked like an O, but he understood it. Good luck. It was fun meeting a stranger from another world. -Here always, Ariana Clair. Under it, she or Beck had drawn a clock. Beck had written: Small arrow = first number. Long arrow = second. In parentheses, beside each number she’d written more numbers by five, until he got to double zeros underneath the number twelve. He brought the ticking watch close and tried on his own, counting with his finger. “Fifteen, sixteen… twelve.” It was twelve-sixteen, not morning anymore.
Had they bludgeoned him with stones while he slept? It was clear to him now why Enkindlers weren’t allowed to drink. Whatever pain remedies Aria had concocted were wearing off. He’d worry about that later when he could pick through the first-aid kit.
Aria or Beck had taken the liberty of bringing his stuff to him. The backpack from Beck was already full with what they’d grabbed the night before. How was he supposed to fit the new stuff?
He stuffed the map Beck had drawn in his back pocket. He pocketed the knife, too. A tent? He wasn’t sure where that would fit. Or the canteen, or… he grabbed a basket of pears. They smelled like water… like rain… like his mom’s fruit salad. He hoped it didn’t taste the same. Bless his mom, she’d done the best she could with what they had. Eating crackers with clumps of dehydrated fruit in murky broth hadn’t been ideal.
Beck had left a note for him to “eat slowly” if he ate “at all”. He screamed in his head. He had learned many things, including the damaging habit of self-loathing whenever he failed. If he ate the pear, he was failing. If he didn’t, he’d starve. He took another demurring moment, with the stem pressed to his lips before biting.
Bitter juices permeated his tongue, growing sweeter as it settled. Tearing through the skin left a sore, vibrating sensation in his teeth. Inside, was almost as soft as the leaves he’d touched. Crunchy. Soft. He marveled at it, wondering how it could be both. He didn’t have the luxury in Obedience of caring what his food tasted like.
He took another bite, another before he could swallow the last. For the first time, he felt something other than the color black. How could he have the same satisfying feeling from eating a pear that he’d gotten from watching the sunrise? Or from Aria’s fingertips?
By the third bite, his stomach was churning, but he couldn’t stop. He’d
trade all the food he’d ever eaten for that one piece of fruit.
He bit his finger three times within four pears. After resisting his urge to vomit up the few he’d eaten he managed to keep down two more. He crossed the room to the alcove where Aria had tossed aside books hours ago and sat, afraid one quick move would send hot vomit spewing from him. On his way back to his bag, he found the pocket dictionary Aria had thrown at him. She had written Forty percent of Earthens are Terramulken speakers and my native tongue on the inside flap. He stuffed it into the same compartment as Naomi’s book.
Slumping, he pulled the bag over his shoulders and tightened the straps. The canteen’s strap was a flimsy joke. It would break as soon as he got knocked down—assuming he did. He fastened it around his beltloop. His crutches would act as extra support and weapons if need be.
Jaxon had learned many things as a soldier. He’d taken basic combat training when he was fifteen and individual training every year after that. He knew how to fight. Well, he knew how to make a punch hurt. Environmental Earth simulated trainings hadn’t come close to Knowledge’s terrain. Jerus was a downhill winding slope. Everything beyond that was trees for miles, quicksand, quarries and too many rocks and cliffs to count. Nothing in Obedience could’ve prepared him.
Still, he was smart enough to know that he had to take advantage of the land. What he didn’t know, he would have to learn as he went.
He curved the entrance and pushed his way through a door. The morning’s chill was gone, replaced by stifling humidity that smelled like vanilla. Earlier, the Den was booming with Beck’s Lions. Now, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Not a window was open, and a golden chain closed off the bridge that went deeper into the town. Without it, Jaxon might have thought he dreamt it all.
He unfolded Beck’s map and squinted, trying to read the light pencil drawings. Beck had a talent with that antediluvian tool, but this map was useless. He couldn’t understand it. And if he could, he couldn’t distinguish where any of those places were. So far, he knew that Tiyeert was the shopping district. The chateau was in Tien, the highest point. And Tifu, the working district, was the lowest point.
“All right.” He wasn’t about to go trekking aimlessly again. That had nearly gotten him killed. He would come up with a plan first. He brought the paper closer to his face. Only three familiar places stuck out— Beck’s house, Alasta and the chateau.
He hadn’t gone anywhere, and he already felt defeated.
He started down a path that was semi-familiar. He wouldn’t bet anything on it, but for now he would take the path leading to the chateau. If it was the highest region, he might get a clearer view from there. He could see other Doors from there too.
The Remember You Trail, what Beck had called it on her map, wasn’t a trail. Years and years of footprints had formed a path. Animals, too. Hoof tracks looked as fresh as the footprints Jaxon was leaving now.
Nothing on the map signified which way to go and Jaxon couldn’t recognize one tree from another.
Tightly packed understory made it impossible to see his feet.
There was a crack and a distant croaking noise. Jaxon froze.
He turned around and was met with a wild goat. On first sight, it matched the description of forest animals from fairytales, like Snow-White. But there was nothing adorable about it salivating, or its snapping, sharp teeth.
Jaxon’s puzzlement outweighed his fear. He was stricken with urges to both pet and run from it. He settled for standing frozen. The goat ducked its head, stone horns capable of putting a hole right through him. That alone was enough to make him bolt, but he couldn’t find his courage.
The beast snapped at him and charged to strike him with its horns. The ground reached up to catch it. Two earth-made hands wrapped around its hooves and slammed it to the ground. The attack had struck the fear of Kamiaka into it. It scrambled to its feet and leapt off into the trees.
“Bait...” With a tap of his rod, Nano dropped the mound of dirt he’d been hiding behind.
Jaxon had walked right past it and hadn’t seen him.
“I thought you would get further than this,” Nano said.
“I would’ve. You don’t need to follow me.”
“Clearly, I do. Ain’t gonna be much better going up. Goats is all through here.”
Jaxon shrugged hard, though he gave it some thought. He’d had plenty of time to weigh his options. “Is there another route?”
“We’ll see at the house,” Nano said. “I ain’t helpin’ you if you go further. Come on.”
Jaxon doubted Nano was that nice of a person. He could’ve been trying to help Jaxon because he didn’t want to lose his favorite toy. He could’ve been helping him because Beck had sent him to. Jaxon wasn’t jumping for more interactions with feral goats, but he knew the longer he stayed the harder it would be to leave.
“I’m cool.”
“You’re comin’ with me,” Nano said, his voice hard and firm. “Now.”
15
They ambled to Tiyeert, Nano singing the whole way, slapping Jaxon’s shoulder on every lasting note. If Nano was a performer, Jaxon would be the disruptive audience member heckling him.
Nano flashed a smile like he was about to burst into laughter, directed toward the only woman sitting at the fountain.
“Be righ’back.” He jogged to her and posed in front of her. “Oi. Lyuvov’eey nahdai.” He leaned and ran his finger over her lip.
In a tone that was more playful than aggressive, she pushed his finger away to kiss him, planting her tongue deep into his mouth. When they finished, she slipped him a piece of paper. Jaxon didn’t stick around to inquire about what it was. Nano hadn’t been at Beck’s trunk. He hadn’t seen how upset Aria was. If he had, he wouldn’t have shoved his tongue down another woman’s throat.
He caught up with Jaxon, snatched his shoulder and stirred him left. “Food’s this way.” They walked to the bottom of the hill where old train cars formed an avenue of restaurants on the fringe of the mountain.
“I thought we were going to what you vaguely call ‘the house.’”
“You eatin’ first.” Nano steered him up the steps and into a red railcar, another platform affixed to sit over the edge of the mountain.
A bald man washed his hands at the sink across from the entrance. Nano gestured Jaxon in its direction as he shook out of his shoes. The immaculate tile overflowed with busy tables from front to back, each occupied, each in an uproar of cackles and chatter. People eagerly reached and snatched food and slapped at each other’s hands.
Jaxon rubbed his arm, tried to distance himself. He felt brand new to the world around these people.
He took his shoes off and washed his hands with soap that smelled like cranberry. He went to the table Nano had picked in a back corner near a window. The girl was long gone, but Nano tapped the paper she’d signed on a saltshaker.
“What’d she give you?” Jaxon eyed a woman who was balancing a tray of steaming fish, stacked to the roof with peppers and onions. Something savory burned another hole in his stomach.
Nano turned the paper and showed him five numbers. He tucked it in his back pocket and grabbed a handful of cashews from a wooden bowl. He looked like a walrus when he stuffed them in his cheeks. Crunching, he pushed the cashews to Jaxon.
Jaxon spun the bowl back his way.
It took Nano a full three seconds before he chuckled. “Y’all treat gods like trash around here.” He waved over a waitress. Not any waitress. Eshauna.
She was already smiling before she made it to their booth. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon,” she said. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s… okay, I guess,” Jaxon said, though his arm was the last thing on his mind.
“Bless the Mother Earth then. So, are you the Emiir’s?”
“Excuse me?”
Eshauna glanced at Nano for the answer, but he sat there, pushing his lips up to his nose.
“Yesterday you were with the E
miir,” she explained. “Today, you’re with her brother.”
Jaxon still didn’t understand.
“She’s asking if you’re sleeping with my sister,” Nano said. “Apple pie, whenever you feel like doing ya’ job.”
“I ain’t asking if he’s sleeping with her. Why would I ask a grown man who he sleepin’ with outta nowhere? See, you need to chill. I’m asking if you’re a Lion.”
Jaxon sat back. “No.”
Eshauna rolled her eyes. “Well… if you’re not”—
“I wouldn’t,” Nano sliced his finger over his throat, cueing her to stop while she was ahead, “if I was you.”
“You ain’t me,” she said, and jerked her neck hard when she faced Jaxon again. “Can I take you out?”
Jaxon looked to Nano for support. Take him out where? Why?
Eshauna saw he needed help and added. “On a date?”
Date? She meant when two people went to eat food in public and shared inconsequential conversations, which, in their case, would hold no lasting effect on either of their futures? “No,” he said, and added, “thank you.” He didn’t understand the purpose. He didn’t like Eshauna and didn’t think she liked him, aside from her curiosity in a new face.
Eshauna looked horrified for only a second. “O-kay.”
Nano slapped the table with a wham! “You heard the man. No, thank him.” His laugh turned hysterical before complete calm. “Ey, bring us some food, a’ight? Stop being a lil hot tail. Go pour all that pent-up sexual tension into my apple pie.”
She turned up her lip and asked Jaxon with a newfound distaste, “What do you want?”
“Aria’s got him on a strict diet.”
“He can talk,” Eshauna snapped, rolling her neck and her eyes.
Jaxon was used to people talking around him. Many times, Farah had displayed him like sellable cattle for her inspections. He was the epitome of stolid. A robot. Like Beck said.
