They Called Us Shaman

Home > Other > They Called Us Shaman > Page 6
They Called Us Shaman Page 6

by Corinne Beenfield


  “I needed some time. But I’m ready now.” He brushed a clod of dirt between his hands, the flecks of it drifting to the ground.

  “Ready for what?” My stomach became a hard knot, and I sat back on my heels to look at him better. Don’t you even think of saying—

  “To fly again.”

  He said it. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which I couldn’t fathom, with what we went through.

  “Oh, right, right. I am sorry. I forgot for a moment how I watched you fall to your death. That little thing.”

  He examined the seeds in his hands, then the direction of the sun as he spoke. “Jo, I have never wanted anything so badly in my life. For months now, I thought I had failed, but I didn’t.” His eyes met mine. “It’s not failure on one hand and success on the other, you see? Failure is part of the process. The only way I could truly fail is if I stopped trying. And I won’t settle for that. I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling like my insides are bleeding to death each time I see a bird fly. I have to keep trying. To fall short is . . . unacceptable.”

  My heart felt like charging horses, one going north, the other south. I couldn’t love Leo more if he were blood. The idea of abandoning him was like the thought of Mama discarding me. I wanted his dreams to come true, of course. But I wanted him to live even more.

  “Sometimes you need to realize that no matter how much you put into something, it’s simply not going to work.” I knew my words were bruising, but perhaps they would keep him safe. “You cut your losses. You walk away. You are just being stubborn. Stubborn like a rock.”

  “Well . . .” Leo thought that over, picking at his neatly trimmed beard. “I am Italian.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I see you smiling.” Leo grinned.

  How could I not admire his determination? It was something I’d always loved about him, that he could never settle for mediocrity. He was forever seeing what was invisible to the rest of us and then would strive, through his art or inventions, for it to become visible to us as well. Having Leo in your life was like living in a world of blues and yellows, then he would show you how to see the green. If that wasn’t a form of magic in and of itself, I didn’t know what was.

  But I couldn’t do what he asked of me. I could suddenly see that it was why I had turned around that day, why I didn’t come to the door later when he visited. I wasn’t mad, not even remotely. I was simply done. To expect me to implore for him to have hope, to try again, not to give up, was just too much. When Leo had made it to shore, some part of his soul had stayed behind in that freezing water, sinking and breathless. And perhaps it was best that way. Dreams shatter or even die—that’s part of life. Part of growing up. But he would heal, and he would find new dreams to fill the void that was left. Maybe even better dreams. But to do that, he needed to live.

  “I can’t. You were so desperate for this, you didn’t think straight, and it would have been my fault if you had gotten hurt or killed. You said it yourself—you know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Well, you’re right. I won’t. I won’t help you anymore. You can’t fly, Leo, and I’m not going to watch you kill yourself trying.”

  Leo stood up and looked down at me, still crouched on the earth. “Just because you give up on me doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on me.” I could hear his heartbreak as he spoke.

  I tried to stand, but was slow and awkward with my dress. “Not on you. Never you.”

  “Aren’t our dreams one of the biggest pieces of our souls?” he challenged.

  “Come on, Leo. It’s a nice idea, but you are so much more than that. I’ve known you for years—you can’t just sum yourself up in this one dream.”

  He stepped forward, his face completely open, no mask of coping left. “Do you still see it?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The greatness Cristoforo saw. Do you still see it?” The way he asked, I knew a world hinged on the answer. Our world, as we had always known it. Our world of running barefoot through the streets as best friends, of market trips linked arm in arm. Our childhood, our innocent trust in each other all came to this point. Yet there seemed no right answer to his question. Answer yes, and he would again do something dangerous and I would lose him. There was simply no safe way to learn how to fly. By its very nature, it demands risk.

  Yet answer no, and I would lose him still.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do. I have more in me.” He reached for my hand and dropped something into it—the remaining seeds. “When something is just starting out, you can’t say what it can become. And I’m going to show you. Just wait.”

  With that, he turned and left me alone in the garden.

  Alone again.

  Just me and the earth, and the knowledge that it would never be enough.

  ___

  Branches brush each wall and the treetop kisses the ceiling, but it grows not an inch farther. The woman lowers her hands to her sides and opens her eyes, smiling softly at our mouths gaping open. Our normally professional façades are dropped. Now we each seem about as calm and respectable as an organ grinder’s monkey.

  We jitter to each other and grab frantically at the persons next to us, but the room suddenly stills as we notice the man with gray eyes, Gadian Richardson, reach up and pluck a single pink blossom in his fingers. We stay stuck like ivy to the wall as he walks around the table that is held together by roots clutching it on all sides. He holds the tiny flower in front of him as he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Magic does exist. Magic has always existed. But . . .” He pauses, reverently setting the blossom on the table as though an offering on an altar. “It is nearly extinct.”

  NINE

  Tuscan Italy, April 1472 A.D.

  I never thought that would be the end of Leo and me.

  Two weeks passed, yet I kept telling myself, Give him time. He will understand. Soon this will be water under the bridge. But the more time that went by, the harder it was to convince myself of that.

  “Perhaps I should go apologize.” I kicked a stone in front of me as Alessio and I walked on the outskirts of the city one evening. It was growing dark and we should have been safely inside the city wall, but I had needed someone to talk to, and Mama was away at a birth. I had no idea what you devils had planned for us.

  “Absolutely not.” Alessio shook his head, his arm draped across my shoulders. “You did nothing wrong. You’re trying to keep him safe—alive, even! Begging for forgiveness would just weaken his respect for your stance.”

  “Yesterday he sent a message for me to meet him at the cathedral where he is painting the mural on the ceiling, apprenticing under Verrochino. When I got there, though, he was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t like him at all. I think he wanted to make amends, but then changed his mind.” I swallowed and bit my cheek. “Maybe he wasn’t ready to face me.”

  Alessio didn’t answer.

  If he was going to, he didn’t get the chance. For that’s when your people stepped forth.

  I pause in my story and look down at my hands shaking in my lap. I taste iron blood as I speak, my heart in my mouth. Never before have I told anyone these memories, and they lie between Azure and me, raw and vulnerable, like a creature with no skin. Yet Azure just sits there calmly, fingers curled under her chin, watching the creature shivering before her without so much as saying a word.

  She knows what happened next. Of course she does—she is not free of blame in this. Far from it. But she doesn’t interrupt—just waits for me to go on. Waits for me to relive it in all its painful detail. Drawing my hands to my lips, I speak through loosely woven fingers, as though I could block the words from coming out, as though perhaps then it wouldn’t be my story to tell.

  Five men stepped forward with a look about them I had never seen. Their clothes, obviously, spoke of not being from Italy. How could I have known they weren’t even from the same century? The difference was more th
an skin color, too—there was something in their bone structure, something in how they held themselves. Looking at us, they stood as though placing a flag on conquered land.

  The man in the middle stood apart from the others as his glance flitted up and down us, pleased.

  “Hello, Alessio. Joanna.” He smiled with only one side of his face and completely without his eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  With that, he motioned to the brute next to him, who raised his weapon. Though I’d never laid eyes on a contraption like it before, I knew from the man’s cold stare that he was taking aim, from the way my insides turned to ice that I was being hunted.

  It occurred to me that I was going to die.

  But it never could have occurred to me what you devils actually had in mind. A hell that didn’t require death to reach.

  My muscles tensed, but there was no time to run. Before I could even block my face with my hands, the dart met its mark in my neck. Black clouded my vision as the last thing I saw was Alessio stumble toward our attackers, his limbs losing all strength as the vial attached to the dart in his collar emptied into his system. He collapsed onto the ground, the dirt kicking up around him.

  Then all was still, as I could not keep my eyes from closing.

  I swallow hard and try to keep my chin from quivering as I meet Azure’s eyes.

  “When I awoke, I discovered that your people had taken everything from me.”

  If my story has made her feel anything, her face hides it well. She doesn’t respond—only knits together her penciled eyebrows—of all the ridiculous things—and leans back, watching me.

  I can’t stand her eyes on me, reading into my every word. Standing, I walk to the window that covers the wall from floor to ceiling and turn my back to her. On the other side, there is a barren panorama stretching on for miles, nothing to be seen but hardened sand in bizarre patterns, almost in the shape of a honeycomb. In the distance I can make out dunes, then eventually isolated mountains, but between here and there I cannot see a single animal, tree, or flower. Tonight the sky itself is not even blue, but is a sunset unfurling crimson across the sky. Rather than comforting me, the color reminds me of a wound, and my soul aches as though that was its blood up there. Gone are the cypress trees, the lush landscape, and flourishing gardens that mean I am home. I had never imagined a place so desolate and infertile. What hope could I have of connecting with the earth here? The terror of that thought, of having my means of escape cut off, leaves me as cold as if my blood stopped flowing.

  Swiftly, I raise both fists and slam them into the window. On the outskirts of my vision I can see Azure jerk back in surprise at my sudden outburst, but I keep my back to her.

  “‘Death Valley.’ That’s what you first called this place. Fitting, for your kind. You’ve brought death to everything I love. More than death, even. When my papa died, at least he could live on in memories. But now? Everything, everyone I have ever known has been gone for hundreds of years. They don’t live on in anyone’s memories but my own. They are as thoroughly obliterated as you could make them be.” I fall silent for a moment and turn to face her, chest heaving with anger. “And now . . .” My voice drops as quiet and lethal as poison. “You made me give you that. My memories. All I have left of them. All that keeps them alive.” A single tear escapes and slides down my cheek. “What more do you want from me?”

  “Oh, Joanna.” She sighs, rubbing her lip as she shakes her head.

  For a moment I wonder if she understands, if maybe there’s a human behind that fake looking skin. But then she drops her hand, and locks eyes with mine.

  “We’ve only just begun.”

  PART TWO

  Dr. Richardson exhales slowly before continuing. “There are twelve abilities, each accessed through connecting with nature, the most basic way being the eating of organic fruits and vegetables.

  “Imagine what we could do if we were to harness these abilities! As scientists, this is what we are best at. We have done this before.” With a sniff, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vial of pills. Taking a single one in two fingers, he lifts the tiny oval for all of us to see. “Nature has given us elements that if carefully channeled and manipulated can be so much more. Just as modern medicine changed the face of the world, so will we.”

  TEN

  The Californian Remains, July 2048 A.D.

  “I can’t do this.” I’m suddenly trembling, shivering uncontrollably even though I’m not cold. A voice in the back of my mind tells me to be brave, not to let them see how they’ve hurt me. But is there a prescribed way to behave when you’ve been kidnapped and found out that everyone you’ve ever loved is dead? “You may as well have murdered everyone I love—they are all dead! And then to ask me to betray the earth that gave me so much by aiding you.” These people are enemies of the earth, asking me to be a traitor. I feel like I’m trying to breathe with a noose on, and the words only barely come out. “How can I possibly help those who have had their souls wither and die within them?”

  She raises an eyebrow, plucked to perfection, and makes a tsk sound in her cheek. “So quick to judge! You don’t even know me.” She smiles with those painted lips as though to disarm me, as though I’m foolish enough to put down my shield for her to stab me.

  “You committed time travel! You have the heart of murderers, no respect for the passage of life!” And these are the people whose hands my life is in. The very air tastes of fear, thick as smoke and difficult to breathe.

  “See, right there.” She points at me. “That’s just a matter of differing beliefs. All humans have them. Now, tapeworms, on the other hand, do not share our urge to understand life. That’s why they do so little philosophizing.”

  Glaring, I lock my jaw, only the tiniest bit of air making it through my clenched teeth. I know they’ve sent her to me because others find it easy to trust her. We all tell ourselves that evil will come to us with gaunt cheeks and a mouth like the edge of a knife, and we never expect it to be lovely. To joke and try to get us to open up about ourselves. This is exactly what makes Azure so dangerous. She hides who she truly is like a snake concealed in the leaves, never giving any indication of her twisted motives. But one can only be made up of pure evil to have done the things she has done.

  “You’ve kidnapped thousands of people from across the centuries to create your own civilization!” My breath comes out haggard and jagged, and black speckles start to crowd my vision. I look away from her to the window again so I can focus on getting in enough air before I pass out.

  At my accusation, she just laughs. “You act like I said I want to date Attila the Hun!” She cocks her slender hip, her gray dress loosely hugging each bone. “Come on. Don’t we get points for good intentions?”

  “Good intentions?” I stare back at her, baffled. “How can you possibly rationalize what you people have done?”

  She sighs. “It’s called science. We’ve done all this so we can learn.”

  Learn. Right. She’s the same as the boys I came upon in my early childhood who slowly disemboweled a living rabbit until its throbbing, panicked chest felt still and cold. Two of them had held me down so I couldn’t rescue it in time but instead had to watch while the third boy continued, claiming he was “learning” about the animal. Claim what he will—forever burned into my mind is the metallic shine of pleasure he had in his eyes.

  I know that feeling now, of fingers prying at me while my heart beats frantic with wild terror in my chest. Will their hands force my own panicked chest to fall still?

  One thing I do know. It is no different here at the Academy, and I will not be their rabbit.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore.” My hands shake along with my voice. The only thing right now, it seems that can still their trembling, would be to hold Mama and Leo again. To see their smiles and feel their arms about me. But Azure brushes me off with a tilt of her fingers.

  “Buyer’s remorse, huh? I’m sure you’ll feel bet
ter when you see what comforts your statement bought you. Come on. Let’s get you settled in your new long-term quarters.”

  I think she enjoys that little stab, “long-term.” It’s a reminder that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. That I have no way of knowing when, or even if, I’ll see those I love again. Alessio is supposed to be here as well, but until I cup his sweet face in my hands, I can’t help but wonder if they are lying, if his body has been discarded somewhere.

  Azure stands and walks to the door, but my feet stay rooted to the floor. Instead, my eyes fixate on the window.

  I see that a few of my old friends, the stars, are waiting out the window for me. I can’t help but inhale sharply at the beautiful sight of familiar faces in a place so foreign. I lift my hand and rest my fingertips on the glass. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to fly away into the uncharted night, through unknown country, through the centuries, until finally the world started to feel like a dream half-remembered. Somewhere through time and distance, I know I would find our frescoed home with its candlelight glow at the windows. Mamma would be standing in the courtyard, fingers drawn to her lips, head up, searching the heavens for me. She would turn old and gray with her eyes ever waiting upward like that.

  “Close Window Gradient,” Azure speaks quietly behind me, and beige trickles down the glass until it’s no longer a window before me, but an opaque wall, and not a single friendly flicker can reach me. Lifting my other hand onto the wall, the simplicity of what stands between me and my earth strikes home. It’s just a wall. For all its fancy technical developments, that’s all it is. A wall, not truly all that different from the millions that have made up every building I’ve ever stepped into. How can something so common leave me so daunted? It’s like the kitchen knife you’ve used to make supper night after night now buried in the chest, separating one breath from all the others that would follow it.

 

‹ Prev