by Davis Ashura
“But you’re Chinese.”
“It’s the closest thing to my part of the world she knew how to make,” Lien said. “She made it out of love, and I’ll always love her for making me welcome. Welcoming a stranger is a rare act of love.”
Serena studied Lien, wondering at her meaning and pushed aside her bowl. “I appreciate lunch, but maybe you can tell me why I’m here.”
“I know you’re trying to make friends,” Lien said, “but all I know about you is that you’re the bitch who lied to us. I think it’s time I find out who you really are.”
Serena stared at Lien in disbelief, both offended and impressed by her boldness.
“It gets the job done,” Lien said, somehow guessing Serena’s silent question. “So, who are you?”
Serena hesitated, and realized she didn’t know. “I’m not sure. I know who I was, and I have an idea of who I want to be, but I’m not that person yet.”
“Then you need to figure that out,” Lien said. “Really know who you want to be and make it so. The meal and advice are free, and you can take or leave either.”
Serena studied Lien, and truths clicked in her mind. “You’re not the arrogant, ennui-filled ditz you pretend to be, are you?”
Lien grinned in answer. “Life’s more fun my way.”
Jake waited alone in Mr. Zeus’ study and tried to relax, but he couldn’t. He was too full of nervous energy. Pacing didn’t help, so he decided to try a trick from childhood, one that had always settled his edginess. He came to a halt, closed his eyes, and tried to inventory the room’s contents.
Two entrances led into the study, one off the foyer and the other from the kitchen. A window overlooked the front porch. A scarcely used fireplace broke up the line of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. They bent beneath stacks of musty books and scrolls, but over their moldy smell lingered the rich aroma of pipe-smoke. A large couch and coffee table faced a pair of brown leather chairs, while an overhead chandelier and a floor lamp provided the only sources of illumination.
Illumination. Light in darkness. Who would bring light to his suffering family?
Jake sighed. His old trick hadn’t distracted him after all. Nothing would.
Today was too important. Today he’d demonstrate the weave required to leave Arylyn, the one that could block a normal person from speaking of magi and magic. If he failed …
With an angry snarl, he began pacing again. He’d likely fail, but he had to try. He couldn’t give up and do nothing.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Zeus asked.
Jake’s thoughts were so inwardly focused that he hadn’t noticed the old magus enter the room. He drew on his frustration. Anger flared. Adrenaline rushed up like a wave, washing away his nervousness.
Jake gave a sharp nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I hope not,” Mr. Zeus replied, surprising Jake, “because whether you pass or fail, I still have hope that you’ll deepen your skills.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake agreed.
“Sit down and let’s start,” Mr. Zeus said.
Jake settled into the leather chair he’d recently abandoned, and Mr. Zeus took the other one.
“Source your Spirit,” Mr. Zeus said, “and show me what you can do.”
Jake began. By will and many hours of practice, he easily formed a thick, ivory ball of Spirit. It glowed in his hands, warm like a mug of hot coffee. He began working it. A snip here, a tug there, a twist of the entire structure, and after a few seconds the weave took form. He laced a thin webbing of whispering Earth into the shape he’d created.
“It’s too thick,” Mr. Zeus critiqued. “Thin it out. The way it is now, it’ll wipe out a person’s entire sense of self.”
Jake licked his lips. This was the hard part, making the weave as delicate and elegant as it had to be. So far, he only succeeded one time out of every five. Jake furrowed his brow in concentration as he attempted what Mr. Zeus required. He pushed, trying to weaken the braid. He continued to push, and lost control of his weave. It fell apart in a wash of light and a sound like ringing chimes.
As soon as it did so, Jake realized his mistake. He hadn’t let the braid come apart in a controlled fashion. It had simply disintegrated.
Jake opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t remember how. No sound came from him. Jake gaped in alarm at Mr. Zeus. His fear heightened when the edges of his vision blurred and went black. The darkness crowded further. Sounds ceased. His head throbbed.
Jake panicked.
He felt a hand on his head then.
Mr. Zeus.
A healing braid wafted like a soothing mist down past the roots of his hair, the skin of his scalp, and through his skull. The pounding of his head eased. His vision cleared, and he could hear again. He cleared his throat. He could also speak again.
Relief flooded through him, but so did anger at himself. How could he have been so careless? The rebound from his braid could have left him a drooling invalid or even killed him.
“I know you’ve heard me say this before,” Mr. Zeus said, his face obviously irritated, “but please be careful. That braid could have left you a cretin.”
Jake nodded mutely. “Yes, sir.” His voice worked but the words came out slurred.
Mr. Zeus seemed to take in Jake’s worried features, and his expression softened. “It’ll pass. You’ll be fine. Plus, you did better than you did a few months ago,” he said. “Don’t be so disheartened. You’ll get there. You’ll master your skills.”
“I guess,” Jake said, but after what had just happened, mastery never seemed so far away.
“You’re still learning,” Mr. Zeus said, returning to his chair. “Finer control is all you lack, and that comes with practice. So does speed.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jake said, still struggling to form the words. Fear flowed through him, and he hoped Mr. Zeus was right, that his voice would go back to normal.
“As long as it takes.”
Meaning a few years, the same answer Mr. Zeus had offered several months ago when Jake had last attempted to form the braid.
Damn.
The room settled into silence, and Jake’s shock receded. He’d made a mistake, but it hadn’t been a fatal one. Or a permanent one. Hopefully.
“I’ll ask Sioned for some extra lessons,” Jake said, focusing to make his words intelligible.
“She should be able to help,” Mr. Zeus agreed.
Despite his lingering disappointment and his ongoing headache, Jake noticed something in Mr. Zeus’ tone. He caught a flash of regret on the old man’s face.
Mr. Zeus noticed his regard. “Sioned and I have a history together,” he said. “A romantic one, before I met my wife.”
“What was she like?” Jake asked. “Your wife, I mean.”
Mr. Zeus hardly ever talked about his past.
“Patient, to have put up with me for as long she did,” Mr. Zeus answered with a faint smile. “Smart, too, and lovely. She had a subtle sense of humor. I used to joke that she should have been born English.”
“Where was she from?”
“Nigeria.”
Jake’s eyes widened. He knew some of Mr. Zeus’ history as the child of slaveholders. “She was black?”
Mr. Zeus nodded, and his gaze grew distant. “It is strange how life works.” His focus returned to the here and now, and something in his visage told Jake that he no longer wanted to talk about the past.
“You have any plans for today?” William asked Selene after he picked her up from school.
Serena had asked him to get Selene, and he’d been happy to. Between his classes, Selene’s schoolwork, and the time she spent with her friends—she finally had made some—he didn’t get to see the little girl he’d come to think of as a sister nearly as much as he liked.
The two of them crossed the triangular-shaped Village Green as bright sunlight beamed down on them from a cloudless sky. To the west, though, a cloudbank shrouded a trio of foothills—the Triplets.
Rain would arrive later in the evening. Meanwhile, a saxophonist, a cajon drummer, a fiddler, and a guitarist had set up in the gazebo and were busy stomping out bluegrass music. A small crowd of twenty or thirty had gathered to listen.
Selene shrugged in response to William’s question, in that infuriatingly blasé fashion every child mastered by the time they were five.
William mentally smiled when he thought about the observation he’d made. Did he think of himself as an adult now?
They stepped aside for a young couple flying a dragon-shaped kite. The wind lofted it high above Clifftop, and it reminded William of his stuffed dragon, Bartholomew, that Mr. Zeus had thoughtfully brought to Arylyn with him.
An instant later Selene’s world-weary features transformed into puppy-eyed hopefulness. “Can we get ice cream?”
“Your sister said to bring you straight home,” William replied.
Selene’s face fell, and William laughed at her exaggerated sadness.
“Do your teachers make you do homework?” Selene asked.
William shook his head. He didn’t like talking about his lessons. He still failed more times than he succeeded when it came to braiding, and as far as he could tell, he wasn’t getting any better. “We have to practice, but it’s not like homework in the Far Beyond. This is stuff I want to do.”
“I don’t want to do any of it,” Selene said, sounding despondent. “My teachers keep telling me to focus and concentrate, concentrate and focus.” She said the words as if they were a cursed mantra. “I’d rather play.”
“Me, too,” William said in sympathy, “but that’s not the way life works.”
They reached the Main Stairs of Cliff Spirit and began their descent.
“When I grow up, do you think I can do whatever I want instead of what someone tells me?” Selene asked.
“I don’t know,” William replied. “I think it depends on how well you focus and concentrate.” He grinned at her.
She tried not to smile back. “Ha, ha,” she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder before taking off down the stairs. “Race you!”
William’s heart lurched. What if Selene fell? It was a long way down. “Wait!” he shouted.
She laughed in response.
William sprinted after her, catching her four terraces down. He snagged Selene to a halt. “Slow down,” he warned, fear lending irritation to his voice.
“I wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Selene protested. She shrugged herself free of his grip.
“But I would have,” William said. “I’m old, remember?”
“You’re not that old,” Selene said. “Not like Mr. Zeus.” She brightened. “He let me have cookies every night when you and Serena were gone on your pilgrimages. I liked staying with him.”
“You liked the cookies, huh?”
“Of course,” Selene said. “I’m eleven. Who doesn’t like cookies at eleven?”
William grunted, unable to find fault with her observation.
At the base of the Main Stairs they crossed the Guanyin Bridge. William shaded his eyes as the silvery structure reflected the surrounding cliffs and cascades.
What kind of dumbass built a mirrored bridge?
From there they navigated the rocky remnants of Cliff Spirit before reaching the golden beach surrounding Lilith Bay. They headed south from there, taking a path through the nearby jungle.
The thick canopy provided shade, but it also blocked out the trade wind and trapped the humidity. William began to sweat as the air grew stifling. The songs of birds and the buzzing of insects replaced the ocean’s rushing and receding waves. Leaves wisped and rustled in a stray breeze, and lizards the size of William’s palm balanced upon the trunks of trees as they seemed to watch them pass.
Several hundred yards later, the jungle ended at a lagoon where Serena and Selene’s single-story cottage stood upon a rocky knoll. The exterior walls wore a happy yellow color, and the front door and shutters, an indigo-blue. Ruddy tiles shingled the roof, and a broad porch faced a white sand beach that stenciled the lagoon. Several mango trees provided shade, while flowering bushes and shrubs with violet and red leaves bracketed the brick path leading to the door. A large cliff loomed to the west.
William whistled in admiration. Too late he noticed Serena on the porch, bent at the waist as she settled a surfboard into place.
She stood up, wearing a quizzical countenance.
“I meant the whistle for your house,” William said.
Selene smiled smugly.
“Shut up,” William muttered to her.
Selene cackled as she gave Serena a quick hug and dashed into the cottage.
Serena waited on his approach. She wore a blue, one-piece swimsuit and a towel wrapped around her waist. As William approached, despite everything between them he couldn’t help admiring the long, athletic lines of her tanned legs, and the easy grace with which she moved.
“Thanks for getting Selene,” Serena said. “Jean-Paul took me surfing at Amaril Beach.”
“I’m guessing it went well.”
Serena grinned in triumph. “Yup.”
William frowned. He’d never heard her use that word, or appear so relaxed.
“Can I go swimming, or do I have to do my homework first?” Selene shouted from inside the cottage.
“Homework,” Serena called out.
The expected grumbling came from within.
“How’s she fitting in?” William asked.
“She struggled at first but she’s fine now, happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
“And you?” William asked, not sure what prompted his question. Why did he care how Serena was doing?
Her face became guarded. “Why do you ask?”
William shrugged. “Curiosity. You’re happier than before, more like I remember. Or is this a lie, too?”
“I told you before, not everything I did was a lie. In fact, most of it wasn’t.” Serena focused her disconcerting gaze upon him, something William hadn’t seen in months. “You still can’t tell when I’m lying or speaking the truth?”
“I never could.”
She smiled. “Good. Then I’m not losing all my skills. But in answer to your question, I’m not lying. I am happy. I can finally laugh and mean it.”
“Good to hear,” William said. “By the way, I ran into Rukh and Jessira. They say ‘hello.’”
Again Serena’s face became guarded.
“What now?” William asked.
“Those two bother me,” Serena said with a frown. “I don’t trust them.”
William snorted.
“I know you think I’m being hypocritical, but come on, those two … They don’t make sense.”
“No, they don’t,” William agreed. “You know, the other day he outran me.”
“And?”
“After Kohl’s blood infected me, I’m faster than everyone. But not Rukh. He had no trouble beating me.”
“I thought you had a bit of hero-worship going on with him.”
“I did,” William admitted, “but it doesn’t mean I’m blind to his strangenesses.”
Serena tilted her head. “Is that even a word?”
“What? Strangenesses?” William shrugged. “I think so.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, Rukh’s and Jessira’s strangenesses?” Serena’s eyes twinkled in the way he remembered from long ago.
He mentally scowled, cutting off that line of thought. “No. I was only dropping off Selene. I should go.”
“You can stay for dinner if you like,” Serena said. Her words came out in a rush.
A queasy, uncertainty developed in William’s stomach. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Okay,” Serena said. She wore an understanding smile, but William could see the disappointment in her eyes. “Maybe some other time.” She tucked a lock of hair behind an ear.
William froze. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Serena’s graceful gesture that had once had him so en
raptured. “Don’t do that,” he said.
“What?”
“Try to make me like you.”
“I’m not trying, but if I were, you’d like me again.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” William’s spine firmed.
“Then prove it. Have supper with me.”
William hesitated. Having dinner with Serena sounded like a bad idea.
November 1987
a few months after the near disaster in Australia, William took Ms. Sioned for a morning stroll along Lilith Beach. She wanted to assess his progress in the mastery of his Elements, but for some reason she wanted to test him near the ocean. She leaned against him as they walked, and William made sure to maintain a slow pace for her occasionally unsteady gait.
This early in the morning no one else was about as they hiked the northern edge of Lilith Bay. Here, the golden sands transitioned into a shingle beach made of glassy-smooth stones, and William led Ms. Sioned around tide pools, full of small, white fish and an occasional suspicious coconut crab with her large claws up and ready. The wind whipped and carried the smell of the salty sea. Birds—fairy terns—called out as they wheeled in the sky.
“Let’s rest here,” Ms. Sioned suggested a few minutes later, gesturing to one of the many boulders littering the beach. They’d likely broken off from the nearby ruddy-veined, granite cliff. On the other side of the escarpment was the canyon through which River Namaste swept northward to the Pacific.
William helped ease Ms. Sioned onto a boulder, but he remained standing. He stared over the ocean and imagined himself sailing upon its aqua waves. The water glowed resplendent in the early morning light, but the sun had yet to crest the height of the soaring cliffs behind him, and the beach remained cast in shadow.
“Dolphins,” Ms. Sioned said, drawing his attention to the bay.
William looked to where she pointed and saw them. They slipped through the water, sleek and gray and probably part of a local pod. He smiled when he recalled seeing a dolphin for the first time.
It had been during a vacation to the North Carolina Outer Banks in his sophomore year of high school. He’d seen a dorsal fin breach the water, and memories of Jaws had taken hold. Several swimmers had been out in the water, and William had jumped up and down, shouting and desperately trying to catch their attention.
