by Davis Ashura
“We don’t have any children,” Sile said. “My wife and I aren’t compatible in that way.”
“What do you mean?” Serena asked. She wanted to slap herself the instant the question escaped her mouth. What if the issue was a private matter? Ever since coming to Arylyn she seemed to blurt out every thought, no matter how inappropriate.
Luckily, Sile didn’t seem to take any offense. “Not every couple on Arylyn can have children,” he said. “Our physicians can tell when two people won’t give birth to an asrasin but to a normal.”
“We never had that problem in Sinskrill.”
Sile shrugged. “Some of the doctors think it’s related to the density of our lorasra. It’s enough to keep us alive, but it isn’t thick enough to make sure every child is born with a potential for lorethasra.”
“I guess,” Serena said in uncertainty. “Sinskrill’s lorasra is much deeper than Arylyn’s.”
“And more polluted from what I hear. Some say it’s because of Shet.”
“You’ve heard about him?” Serena asked in surprise.
“After what happened in Australia, everyone has,” Sile said. “Enough gossiping.” He broke off and strode away.
Serena hustled to catch up with him. As slowly as he spoke, he made up for it with an ambling gait that chewed up the yards.
“Let me show you something,” Sile said, and they entered a long, narrow greenhouse. “This is something I would expect you to master.”
In a trough full of soil, he planted several seeds and wove a delicate braid of Earth and Water. It dripped from his fingers into the soil.
Serena watched in amazement at his level of control. “I can’t do that,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”
“You can if you want to learn,” Sile said. He continued to slowly pour his weave into the seeds. A green shoot lifted from the black soil, and Sile grunted. “Used too much there.” He sounded clinical. “Need to give some Fire to this little one to keep it resistant to disease.” A flare of sulfur, and the shoot brightened for a second.
“Can you do it again? The weave to induce growth?” Serena asked. She wanted to see exactly how he’d formed his braid.
Sile formed the weave again, and Serena concentrated on it the entire time. The skill remained beyond her abilities, too light and elegant for her Sinskrill training, but in time, maybe.
“And the Fire?” she asked.
Again, Sile demonstrated what he meant.
This time Serena realized this was a braid she might be able to create.
“There’s a lot more to show you, if you like,” Sile said. He left the greenhouse, and Serena jogged to keep up with him.
They reached a field of wheat.
“We till our land the old way,” he said, “with a horse or a ox hitched to a plow, but we make it easier on the animals by softening the ground first with a bit of Earth and Water.”
“On Sinskrill, it’s all done by hand,” Serena said.
“Seems mighty hard,” Sile noted, “but then again, farming is hard no matter where or when it’s done. You sure you want this life?”
“Yes,” Serena said. Something welled inside her, a longing to create rather than destroy, a joy she sometimes felt when humming “Gloria.” She touched a drooping, little plant next to her and added the thread of Fire that Sile had shown her. The plant perked up, and Serena smiled, glad to have helped something live. A sense of peace filled her.
“That’s a tree,” Sile said in a dry tone. “Trees in a farmer’s field aren’t usually good things.”
William stretched his legs as he leaned back in his Adirondack chair and watched the sun set over Lilith Bay. Somehow, the blue water had become a mirror, and reflected the sky’s lustrous pinks and purples. Twilight always settled upon Arylyn’s heavens like an overturned painter’s palette. He sighed in appreciation as a cool trade wind blew. It shook nearby palm fronds, rattling them like maracas, the perfect musical accompaniment to watching Serena surf as she balanced on her board—long, lean, and beautiful.
He shut off those thoughts and changed his attention to where Jake, Daniel, and Lien were attempting to build a bonfire without lorethasra for a cookout on the beach.
William considered taking a nap and waking up when the food was ready.
He closed his eyes, but before he could fall asleep, Jason nudged him and handed him a glass of lemonade.
William levered himself upright in his chair and accepted the drink. “Thanks.”
“You look whooped,” Jason said, slumping next to him in a matching chair.
William gestured to the wooden skeleton of a boat several hundred yards away. So far, not much more than a few ribs clung to the keel. “That dhow’s what’s got me whooped.”
“You’re not planning on sailing it all the way to Sinskrill, are you?”
“Don’t know,” William answered. “As long as it has enough room for Rukh and Jessira, we’ll be all right.”
“What’s this ‘we’?” Jason asked. “I never agreed to go.”
William rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be all right if they’re with me. Happy now?”
Jason shrugged. “You know, instead of building your own boat, you could borrow someone else’s.”
“Maybe,” William said, “except I want my own.”
“With Serena to teach you how to sail it.” Jason’s statement had shades of unspoken meaning.
“You trying to imply something?” William asked.
“No. Just commenting. Forget I mentioned it,” Jason said with a shake of his head.
But William couldn’t forget. He suspected what Jason was thinking. William was falling for Serena again.
“It’s not like that,” William said. “I’m not dumb enough to go down that road again.”
“Yes, you are,” Lien said, approaching them. She’d obviously overheard the last part of their conversation. “Both of you. Add in Daniel and Jake, and you’re the four horseman of the moronic-apocalypse.”
“Shouldn’t you be making my dinner?” Jason asked.
Lien picked up a large basket near the Adirondack chairs. It held steaks, ears of corn, asparagus, and potatoes. “For that, you get all the burned pieces.” She returned to the bonfire and handed the basket off to Jake.
“He still wants to go home,” William said, pointing his chin at Jake.
“I know.”
William hesitated, wanting to know why Jason never talked about his family, or why he never went home. He held his tongue, though. It was obviously a sensitive topic.
“Julius promised to teach me Water,” William said. “Maybe I’ll actually master all the Elements before I’m done.”
“You’re a raha’asra,” Jason said. “You’ll never master all the Elements.”
“Not according to Fiona,” William said. “She says we’re more than jacks-of-all-trades.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Jason said. “Is Ward still teaching you the other Elements?”
“Yeah, but Serena’s helping with the Fire part.” He flicked a glance at the water, where Serena rode into a curl, her athletic form flashing in and out of view.
“You want her teaching you how to sail and how to source Fire?”
William reddened. He’d stepped into that one. “I need to learn to fight with the Elements,” he said, “and no one’s better at it than her.”
“There’s no other reason?” Jason pressed. “Nothing about how easy she is on the eyes?”
William’s gaze automatically went to Serena again. She flashed out of the curl, narrow-waisted, and with her long, dark hair framing her face.
“It’s actually because of what Rukh and Jessira said I should do,” William said. “They said I need to forgive her, and I’m trying. I don’t want to be a person who hates.”
As he spoke the words, he realized that maybe Serena was following the same journey. Maybe she was trying to find a way to become a better person, too.
November
1987
rukh says you have to infuse the wood with a touch of water to make it pliable,” William explained.
Serena stood over him, and she leaned in closer as he braided a thick cord of Water supported by a thin thread of Earth. The weave susurrated like an ocean wave, washing over his shoulders and into his hands before he sent it rushing into the wooden slat.
Serena whistled in appreciation at his skill. In the month since he’d started training with Ward and Julius, William had come very far, very fast. “Who taught you that?” she asked.
“Julius,” William answered.
Serena stepped away from him and leaned against the railing of her front porch. She couldn’t do what he’d done. She had some skill with Water, but not like William’s. Her gifts were Fire and Earth. Besides which, she hadn’t asked William down here to teach her to use Water.
She’d asked him down here so they could start on the bicycles they’d talked about building. At least that was one reason. The other was she liked William, and she hoped one day he’d like her, too. As a friend only.
She smiled as the thought passed through her mind. While mostly true, it was incomplete. A lie by omission, and she knew it. Isha had long ago forced her to acknowledge those moments when she sought to deceive herself.
William rose, and she was struck by how tall he seemed these days. Since coming to Arylyn he hadn’t grown in height, but he had put on weight, and all of it muscle.
Thankfully, William didn’t notice her silent assessment. Instead, he stared at the lagoon. “It’s always so beautiful down here.”
Serena moved to his side.
The waters of the lagoon glowed blue and gold beneath the afternoon sun, with green palm trees edging the white beach. The honeysuckle cultivar from Sile’s greenhouse had taken root, and the small plant already wore a few fragrant, white blossoms. It reminded her of the neighborhood she and William had lived in back in Cincinnati. Rows of honeysuckle grew there.
“You’ve done a good job with this place,” William said with a smile. “It smells nice, too.”
Serena tucked a loose lock of hair behind an ear. “Flattery will get you anywhere.”
William grunted, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her reply. He resumed staring at the lagoon. “Why didn’t you ask Lien to help you with the bike? Aren’t the two of you best friends now? I always see you playing enrune with her.”
Serena blushed. “I don’t spend all my time playing.” Guilt rose at all the hours she did spend either surfing or at the enrune fields. On Sinskrill, such leisure activity would have been unthinkable, but not on Arylyn. Here, it was how life was lived. Work hard and play harder was the island’s unofficial motto.
“I’m learning to farm from Sile Troy,” she added.
“I heard,” William said. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you ask Lien?”
“I’m not really her friend,” Serena said, choosing her words carefully. “I’d like to be, but …” She shrugged.
“What about Jake? He’d like a bike, too. So would Jason.”
Serena snorted in derision. “I’m sure they’d both jump at the chance to work with me.”
“Then why me? Do you think I’m your friend?”
Serena stepped away from William, wanting distance from him and his uncomfortable question. Friendship. Such a simple concept that could lead to so many complications.
She organized the slats of wood they’d spread out on the porch, wondering how to answer him. Maybe the truth would suffice, or maybe her heart could tell her lips what to speak.
“You’re my friend,” she said. “It’s how I think of you. I know I’m not yours, but I’d like to be. One day, if you let me.”
William appeared at a loss for words. He stared at her a moment before bending down to the wood she’d organized. “Let’s get back to work.”
Serena mentally sighed. She had expected his reaction, but it was still disappointing.
“Your turn.” William passed her a slat.
“I’ll try,” she said, doubtful as to her success.
Nevertheless, she sourced her lorethasra and concentrated. She tried to form the same weave William had created, and a thick braid of water pulsed down her arms. She released it, and realized her mistake the moment she did.
Too much!
The wood swelled like a sponge. Her attempt to draw out some of the water resulted in a puddle dribbling onto her shoes.
William laughed. “Nice.”
“Not all of us can master all Elements like you can,” Serena said with a rueful chuckle.
“I’m not a master of any Element,” William said. “Not yet, anyway.”
“You will be.”
“Flattery will get you anywhere,” William replied, echoing her earlier comment.
Serena arched an eyebrow. “Really? In that case, would you build my bike for me?”
William shook his head. “Not that I don’t want to, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have the control I need, not with Fire and Earth.” He held up the wooden slats. “These are supposed to be the rims for the wheels. We’re supposed to bend them into the right shape, fuse them with Earth, harden them with Fire, and lighten them with Air. I need your help for all of that.”
“Show me the rough shapes of the braids you need me to make.”
“What about the braids of Air?” William asked.
“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” Serena said. “And when we do, we’ll have these bikes built and ride them while everyone else is green with envy.”
William grinned and held out a hand. “Partners, then?”
“Partners,” Serena said, shaking William’s hand.
Serena wiped sweaty palms on her thighs, increasingly irritated at her trepidation. How could she, someone who had fought a necrosed, battled charging unformed, and defied the Servitor of Sinskrill to his very face, find the prospect of lunch with a teenage girl so nerve-wracking?
What did she have to be afraid of? Nothing. It was only lunch with Lien.
Serena repeated the words in her mind, trying to talk herself out of her anxiety. She even shook out her arms and legs, hoping doing so would shake out the nervousness as well.
It didn’t. Serena’s heart still pounded, and butterflies remained in her stomach.
Fine. Get it over with then.
Serena took a final deep breath and gave a strong rap on the front door of the Karllsons’ home. She waited a minute, but the door remained closed. Serena silently cursed, wondering if Lien had played a joke on her. She rapped again.
Seconds later, Lien opened the door. “Come in,” she said, stepping aside for Serena to enter. “The Karllsons are out. So is Daniel.”
Serena’s anxiety spiked. She felt like a cat who’d entered the den of a dangerous dog. She had to lean on her training from Sinskrill—she could still master her facial expressions when needed—and forced her features into something resembling pleasant curiosity.
Lien led Serena through a wood-paneled study and into the kitchen. An island with a butcher-block counter held something that smelled divine.
Despite her nervousness, Serena’s mouth watered. “Did the Karllsons adopt you when you came to Arylyn?” Serena asked. She mentally winced at the inane question.
“Pretty much,” Lien said in a breezy tone. “Mr. Karllson found me in China. He brought me here the next day.”
“Didn’t they take months before deciding to tell William the truth about Arylyn?” Serena asked.
“Yes, but my situation was more desperate.”
“How so?” Serena asked.
“I cursed a statue of Mao and someone from the Ministry of State Security heard about it. I ran away, and lucked into a saha’asra. Magnus was visiting Beijing and felt my desperation. He found me, and I convinced him to take me with him.”
Serena smiled. “That’s all it took? Some desperation and a sob story? Meanwhile, po
or William had to wait months to learn the truth.”
Lien grinned. “They took forever with William because he’s … you know, William.”
Serena frowned in confusion, unsure what the other girl meant.
“I like William,” Lien said, “but don’t you think he’s kind of boring?”
Serena chuckled in amusement. William was many things, but boring wasn’t one of them. “I think there’s a lot more to him than you might think.”
“Or maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” Lien challenged.
Serena’s brows furrowed as she considered the other girl’s statement. “I’ve spent a lot of time around William,” Serena said. “I saw him face down two unformed with nothing more than a stick,” she said. “I saw him go head-to-head against mahavans with hardly any training and never back down. I saw him make his sword glow like a lightsaber when he killed a necrosed. I know him well enough, and he’s not boring.”
“Whatever,” Lien said, waving aside Serena’s words. “He’s brave, but I was talking about his personality. He’s dull.”
Serena found herself irritated by Lien’s smug superiority. Annoyance burned away the last of her nervousness. Lien deserved to be taken down a peg. “You know, you act like you’re jaded, as if you’ve seen and done it all,” Serena said. “Like there’s nothing of interest to you anymore. That’s boring.”
Lien scowled. “I didn’t ask you here so you could insult me.”
“Then don’t insult people I like.” Serena mentally cursed her lapse of control. Lien had been kinder to her than she deserved, and here she was insulting her. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. I asked you here for my own reasons.” Lien pulled out two bowls and filled them with spicy noodles and chicken swimming in a delicate sauce. She handed one to Serena. “Eat.”
Serena stared at the other girl in surprise. After their argument, she hadn’t expected Lien to feed her lunch.
“Eat. Please,” Lien urged.
Serena eyed her in doubt for a moment longer before taking a careful bite. She noticed the coconut milk. “It’s Thai, isn’t it?”
Lien nodded. “It’s a recipe Mrs. Karllson shared with me. The first meal she made for me on Arylyn.”
