by Davis Ashura
Jake nudged him. “We’re going to be late.”
William broke out of his reverie, and they pressed on. Ten minutes later, they crossed Haven’s Heart and reached the cobblestone lane of Terrace Nine on Cliff Earth. They halted before their destination, an English cottage made of stacked stone covered in ivy. A topiary garden with deer, elephants, and a lion rampant decorated a small lawn. Several chimneys breached the home’s gray-slate roof, and wood smoke curled skyward from one of them.
Jake rapped on the front door, and they waited.
The sound of footsteps echoed from inside before the door opened. A small, elderly, white-haired woman wearing round glasses peered at them. From behind thick lenses, her bright, blue eyes shone with curiosity and liveliness. A webbing of smile-lines seamed her face.
“Sioned O’Sullivan?” Jake asked.
“Of course I am, dears,” she said in an Irish lilt, and her face broke into a warm smile. “We’ve met before, but you boys were a bit frazzled then. Did you have any trouble finding my home?’
“No, ma’am,” William answered.
The old woman chuckled. “Call me Ms. Sioned, dears,” she said. “Come inside, and we’ll get started.”
She led them into a living room containing a leather sofa and several upholstered chairs. An oval coffee table had been pushed to the side, leaving the center open. There, Ms. Sioned had placed several woven mats on the slate floor.
“Sit down,” she instructed, gesturing to the mats. “You already know the theory of asra?”
They both nodded.
“And you can separate the Elements from your lorethasra and link it to their corresponding strands of lorasra?”
“Jake can.” William shifted about in embarrassment. “I still struggle at it, unless my life is in danger.”
Ms. Sioned gazed at him in puzzlement. “How strange,” she said. “At any rate, Jake can go first. Show me what you can do.”
Jake concentrated, and William sensed him source his lorethasra as the fragrance of cut grass briefly filled the room. Jake quickly braided each Element to its corresponding strand from lorasra.
“Well done.” Ms. Sioned smiled at Jake. “Your turn,” she said to William.
William mentally grimaced. He was terrible at this. He sourced his lorethasra and frowned in concentration as he slowly unspooled Fire, Earth, Air, and Water from the shining, ivory band of his Spirit.
“Now braid them to lorasra,” Ms. Sioned ordered.
William bit down on his rising agitation and carefully reached for lorasra. He started with Air, but the moment he did, his other Elements shuddered. He chased after them, trying to maintain them. They trembled further. His heart raced. He chased them. An instant later, the threads flashed apart in a shiver of light.
His head throbbed, and his vision blurred. The pain built. Nausea roiled his stomach, and he retched.
A cool, dry hand rested on his head, and the pain eased. His vision slowly cleared, and the nausea retreated.
“Better?” Ms. Sioned asked with a face full of concern. She stood next to William. Somehow, he’d collapsed onto his side.
He could only manage a nod. His head still hurt.
Her face expression firmed. “When you lose control of your threads, they can rebound on you. It can prove deadly to yourself and others. You must learn to control your skills.”
William nodded again. The pain and nausea lifted further, and he sat up. Irritation and disgust replaced the discomfort. Why couldn’t he do this?
Ms. Sioned returned to sit upon her mat. She stared at him with a frown, appearing lost in thought. “I saw part of your problem,” she said to William. “Your lorethasra is quite powerful. It’s often the case that those with great potential often struggle with maintaining their threads.”
“Told you you’d be fine,” Jake said, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
Relief washed over William, but he could only manage a sickly smile. The headache and nausea hadn’t entirely disappeared. More importantly, he remained frustrated at his ongoing inability to create the most basic of braids.
The lessons went on, but William continued to struggle with the work. No matter the task Ms. Sioned set before them, he couldn’t do it. His problems all stemmed from his inability to cleanly separate his Elements and link them to lorasra. Without that, he was as helpless as a broken-winged bird plummeting from a tree.
By the time the morning’s lessons ended, William felt like he’d run a marathon through a world of embarrassment. How would he ever free Travail and Fiona if he couldn’t weave a single braid?
Afterward, they headed back to Mr. Zeus’ for lunch. William’s head still hurt, and he didn’t want to talk. Instead, he trudged in silence alongside Jake. Their meal was similarly silent as William continued to worry at his lack of progress. Later on they’d meet with Arylyn’s other raha’asra, Afa Simon, but William had little hope that the afternoon’s instructions would go any better than the morning’s.
Afa lived three doors down from Mr. Zeus in a single-story home with a thatched roof and a lanai. He waited for them on the porch in front of his home. A wide-brimmed hat covered his bald head, and Polynesian warrior tattoos decorated his arms and chest. He appeared positively ancient—older even than Mr. Zeus or Ms. Sioned. Even seated, William could see that Afa had a stooped posture.
“William Wilde and Jake Ridley. Call me Afa,” the old man said. A coughing fit took him. “Excuse me.” He coughed again and peered at them through eyes gray with cataracts. “Too much smoke and alcohol is an unhealthy combination. I learned my lesson too late in life. Take heed and avoid my mistakes.” He emphasized each point with a thrust of the cane he apparently needed to get around. “Sit down.” He coughed again. “What did Sioned discuss with you?”
They told him, and he nodded appreciation. “Good. She’ll handle the practical aspects then, and I’ll teach you the finer points of what it means to be a raha’asra. Given your time in Sinskrill, what do you think of their lorasra?”
William’s mouth curled in disgust.
“It tastes and smells like rotten eggs,” Jake said.
“So I’m told by the others who rescued you,” Afa said. “Why do you suppose that is?”
“Because of who makes it?” Jake guessed.
Afa smiled in approval. “Exactly. Which means Sinskrill’s raha’asra must have an irredeemably foul soul.”
William frowned. That wasn’t right. “Fiona isn’t evil,” he said in disagreement.
“Is she not the one who creates Sinskrill’s lorasra?” Afa asked.
“Not entirely,” William answered. “She makes some of it, but I think most of it comes from Lord Shet.”
“Ah, yes. Lord Shet.” Afa appeared skeptical. “Our histories say he’s dead.”
“Serena and her sister say otherwise. They’ve actually met him,” William replied.
“I like our history better,” Afa said, “and for all our sakes, you should too. A dead Shet is the best Shet.”
“What if he isn’t dead?” William asked.
“Then we’d all be in mortal danger if he ever finds a way back to the land of the living.”
The morning after that first meeting with the raha’asras, William, Jake, Jason, and Mr. Zeus had breakfast at the table underneath the backyard pergola. Sunlight beamed down like spars of light through the slats, but most of the backyard remained in cool shadow. Somewhere a songbird trilled a counterpoint to the water gurgling down the cliff.
William remained concerned at his lack of progress, but Mr. Zeus assured him he had nothing to worry about. He tried to take the old man’s advice and set aside his fears while they had breakfast. No need to bring everyone else down.
Jake glanced at his food and snapped his fingers. “I forgot the OJ.” His wrought-iron chair squealed on the flagstones as he pushed it back.
William shouted at his retreating back. “Get me some water.”
“Get it yourself.”
/> William mentally shrugged before resuming the serious job of eating. He piled French toast onto his plate and drenched it in sugared apples.
“Save some for the rest of us,” Jason complained.
“You snooze, you lose,” William said. He held his fork and knife, ready to dig in, but the utensils suddenly burned like fire. He dropped them with a curse. Only then did he notice the barest scent of sulfur.
Jason. He’d woven a tiny braid of Fire.
“That’s playing dirty,” William said.
“You snooze, you lose,” Jason said, mocking William with his own words while he snagged some French toast.
“You realize there’s a second platter in the kitchen?” Mr. Zeus asked.
“Look what I found,” Jake said. He stood in the doorway leading outside, appearing triumphant as he held a plate of bacon in one hand and a glass of OJ in the other.
“Did you get my water?” William asked.
“Get some from the pond,” Jake said.
“That’s a ‘no,’ then?”
“Affirmative.”
William scowled. “Nobody better touch my food,” he warned as he retreated to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.
“We’ll totally protect your food,” Jason shouted after him.
“In our bellies,” Jake chortled.
William rolled his eyes, knowing he’d return to an empty plate. He drained a glass of water before grabbing the other platter of French toast and sugared apples Mr. Zeus had mentioned.
As expected, only a few smears of food remained on his plate when he returned. Jake and Jason wore insufferable grins, but the joke was on them. William plopped the platter of French toast on the table and proceeded to start eating directly from it.
“Hey!” Jake protested.
“Hay is for horses,” William said around a mouthful of sugary goodness.
“Trade you bacon for some toast,” Jason offered.
“Deal.”
“What about me?” Jake asked.
“I’m thirsty,” William said even though he’d drunk a glass of water less than a minute ago.
“Fine,” Jake huffed. He stomped off to the kitchen.
Mr. Zeus ate his food with a long-suffering air.
“Afa doesn’t believe us about Seminal either,” William told Mr. Zeus when Jake came back.
Jason sighed. “This again.”
“Yes, this again,” William said, annoyed at Jason’s ongoing dismissal of his fears. “How can you be so sure I’m wrong?”
“Because asrasins all through history have written about Seminal,” Jason answered. “Not one has found any proof of the place. It’s like Atlantis.”
“Except Atlantis was real,” Mr. Zeus murmured.
Jason frowned. “Fine. Atlantis was real, but Seminal isn’t.”
“I think it is,” William said. “Serena and Selene have both been there, and they described the same thing. Plus, it makes sense when you think about how thick and filthy Sinskrill’s lorasra is.”
“Maybe it’s the way it is because of their culture,” Jason said. “Didn’t you say that Serena had to watch her mother get whipped to death? Any society capable of that has to be evil, and it’s bound to skunk up their lorasra.”
“Then what about how potent it is?” William challenged.
No one had an answer for that one.
“Why is this so important to you?” Jason asked after a moment of quiet.
“Because we have to be prepared,” William said. “If Seminal is real and Shet is as powerful as Serena claims, then we have to be ready for him. Stealing their only raha’asra and troll is a good start. They might know something that can help us.”
“No one is stealing anything until you figure out how to escape from Sinskrill with the troll,” Mr. Zeus said. “More importantly, if you want to start proving your notions, you need to test them.”
“Which notions?” Jake asked.
“The one that says Sinskrill’s lorasra seeps out into other saha’asras,” Mr. Zeus said. “I’d be more willing to believe in Seminal if that turns out to be the case.”
“How do we test it?” William asked.
“I spoke to Serena, and she says there’s a saha’asra in the outback of Australia connected to Sinskrill,” Mr. Zeus said. “There also happens to be one linked to Arylyn no more than eight or nine hours’ drive from there. All we need to do is go to the saha’asra linked to Sinskrill and test the flavor of its lorasra.”
William caught on to the idea and bobbed his head in building excitement. “And since I can visualize lorasra, I can tell if it’s leaking out of the anchor line to Sinskrill.”
Mr. Zeus nodded. “A good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“When we go, we should take Rukh with us,” William said. “You know, just in case.”
“Another good point,” Mr. Zeus said.
Rukh and Jessira’s log cabin perched on the edge of a high, mountain meadow of phlox, lavender, dianthus, and yarrow. Wildflowers in colors of pink, purple, baby-blue, and yellow waved in the cool breeze, before giving way to spindly cattails where the field edged against a crystal-clear lake. Beneath the afternoon sunlight, the water glowed golden and provided a perfect reflection of the hardwood forest covering the surrounding foothills.
As Serena and William approached the cabin, her breath frosted, and she smiled. She loved being cold.
“I wonder why they live all the way out here,” Serena mused. “It’s so isolated.”
William smirked at her. “Where do you live again?”
“That’s different,” Serena explained. “I chose the lagoon cottage because I wanted something Selene and I could fix up together without everyone staring at me because I was a mahavan. This,” she gestured to Rukh and Jessira’s home, “is something else. I mean it took us two hours to get here.”
“Maybe they wanted some privacy,” William said. “After all, people stare at them a lot, too.”
Serena scoffed. “So they built a log cabin an hour north of Janaki Valley? They need that much privacy?”
“I don’t know,” William said. “Why don’t you ask them?”
“Like they’d tell me.” Serena snorted in derision. “Those two probably have secrets that have secrets.”
William frowned at her. “What’s with you? You’ve been acting weird all morning.”
Serena hadn’t realized anything about her behavior had been noticeably amiss. “What do you mean?”
“You’re acting … I don’t know … nervous or something.”
“I’m not nervous,” Serena protested, although maybe an inkling of anxiety did trickle down her spine. “I simply don’t like mysteries.”
“Well, Mr. Zeus knows something about Rukh and Jessira,” William said. “So does the Village Council, and they all apparently trust them.”
“And that’s good enough for you?”
William shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? The people in charge know something, and we’ll likely only learn what it is if Rukh and Jessira feel like telling us.”
They reached the front door, and Serena took a deep breath to settle the flutters in her stomach.
William rapped on the door and footsteps from within approached. An instant later, Rukh opened the door. Serena stepped back despite his welcoming smile.
“Hi,” William said. “We wanted to ask you something.”
“And you came all this way to learn the answer?” Rukh wore a teasing grin, but he opened the door wider. “In that case, come on in. Have you had lunch?”
They both shook their heads.
“Good,” Rukh said. “Jessira’s making something from back home. Dosas.”
“Aren’t dosas some kind of Indian dish?” Serena asked. It made sense since Rukh looked like a tall, lean, muscular Indian.
“I think so,” Rukh said.
Serena frowned. How could he not know whether it was an Indian dish?
Rukh led them into the hous
e, and Serena was once again struck by the man’s grace. He moved easily and smoothly, more like a stalking tiger than a person.
A second later, she shook her attention off Rukh and gazed about his home. Perhaps it would reveal something about the man.
A long, open room held an unlit fireplace, fronted by an upholstered couch and wooden rocking chairs with plaid cushions. On the far wall—the rear of the cabin—an open timber door that led out back. It stood centered between an eating area with a rough-hewn table and a galley kitchen tucked into a corner with a window opening out on the lake. A closed interior door presumably led to Rukh and Jessira’s bedroom.
Jessira, her golden hair and ruddy-gold skin glowing in the sunlight streaming through the window, stood in the kitchen and offered them a bright smile. “I think you might be the first visitors we’ve had since we fixed up the cabin.”
“They wanted to ask us a question,” Rukh told her.
Jessira arched an eyebrow in challenge.
Serena made herself smile in response, but her instincts told her to run. Something about these two scared her. Not merely Rukh’s obvious power and deadliness—traits Jessira also possessed—but something more fundamental, something she couldn’t put her finger on.
Was it Jessira’s beauty, her forceful sense of self? Or Rukh’s handsome features? Or the way the two of them seemed so perfectly matched and so perfectly relaxed all the time? Maybe all of it?
Serena shook off her wandering thoughts when she realized William was talking.
“… the saha’asra is in Australia, but I’m worried,” William said.
“About an ambush?” Jessira asked.
William squirmed. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “It’s a feeling I’ve got. I think we need the two of you there.”
“Then we will be,” Rukh said.
“You will?” Serena blurted out. “You don’t have any questions first?”
“Not really,” Jessira answered. “We trust William and his feelings.”
Serena settled down with a scowl of frustration. They hadn’t even talked it over.
Jessira went to the kitchen counter and fixed four plates with dosas stuffed with fried potatoes. “Lunch?” she asked.
