by Alia Hess
After killing Adam, she’d spent a day laying on an abandoned motel room floor, shivering with relief and self-loathing. He had screamed, the knife hilt jutting from his eye, and all the momentum behind her rage shriveled. She reminded herself again and again that he deserved it; she’d stared into a mirror at her most recent split lip and black eye and whispered it like a mantra, but it hadn’t helped. She’d murdered someone and couldn’t take it back.
Now she had killed someone else. An angry pink welt lined Trav’s pale neck.
It was his throat or Trav’s. I had to do it. The man deserved it.
That didn’t take the man’s face away from her mind, or the horrified realization in his eyes.
“I didn’t want to do it.” She wiped her wet cheek.
“I know.” Trav kissed her temple. “And this doesn’t make you a bad person. You did what needed to be done. You saved me.”
“That still doesn’t—”
“I hate this place! I just want to go back home to Tam!” The girl in the corner put her hands to her face and sobbed.
Trav pushed himself up to squat next to the girl. He struggled to speak, his voice like sandpaper. “What’s your name?”
The girl looked up, her face wet with tears. “Third Daughter of Greencreek.” She wiped her cheeks. “I came here for my naming quest, but I couldn’t find the place I was supposed to go to. Now I’m lost.” She studied Trav’s face. “Which island are you from?”
“Nis.” He hesitated. “I’m Son of Mossflower. But you can call me Trav.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Are you on a naming quest too?”
Trav nodded.
“And I’m Owl.” She pushed herself off the floor. Why had Trav revealed his real name to this strange woman when he had been so reluctant to do so with her? Was it because this girl was an Islander? Or because she was on a naming quest too?
The girl fixed her gaze on Trav. “I’m very glad to meet you. I was supposed to follow the coast north until I came to a beach with rainbow-colored rocks. Then I had to pick up one of the rocks and take it back to Tam. That’s how I would get my name. But somehow, I missed it. I think I went too far. I don’t know how I could have missed a rainbow beach, though.”
Trav furrowed his blond brows. “You were supposed to walk north? Owl, can I see the map?”
She pulled it from her bag, unfolding it in a shaft of light. Trav put a finger on one of the misshapen circles in the Pacific Ocean. “This little dot is Tam. You would have taken a boat straight across, to here, yes?” He pointed at the coastline east of the island chain, then traced his finger north. “This is where you should have gone.”
“Yes. Right.” The girl nodded.
Trav dragged his finger far down the coast and stopped near the tiny red boat he’d drawn near Tassi—their destination. “This is where we are right now.”
Third Daughter of Greencreek stared at the map. “Okay.”
Owl raised her eyebrows. Trav rubbed his face. “You went the wrong direction. See?” His finger made a journey across the map again.
Third Daughter of Greencreek watched with a placid expression, then gasped, realization contorting her face. “Oh no! I did go the wrong direction! I went south instead of north! No wonder I didn’t see the rainbow beach.”
Owl rolled her eyes and shook her head. Trav tapped the map. “I think it’s best that you went the wrong way anyway. All of this territory circled in red is slaver country now. I think you should go back to Tam.”
“But what about my name?”
“It’s not safe. Gotta get off the Mainland. How did you get down here? Just walked by yourself?”
The girl sniffled again. “No. I was with a caravan group. We started to head away from the ocean through little towns, but they told me we were still going the right direction and could get back to the beach from there. But we kept getting farther and farther away, so I decided to walk by myself.”
Trav cleared his throat and frowned, a hand on his neck. “Listen, we are about a week away from the coast. There is supposed to be a trade ship there that can take us to the Pearlollans. We’re going to Nis. I think you should catch a ride too so you can get back to Tam.”
Owl covered her eyes. It was the right thing to do, but this girl was dumber than a bag of rocks.
The girl clapped her hands together. “Really? You’ll take me back? Thank you!” She threw her arms around Trav’s neck and he winced. “I know I’ll be safe with you, brother.”
Pink bloomed on Trav’s pale cheeks. He looked at Owl. “That’s okay, right?”
“Yeah. We can’t just leave her here on her own.”
Third Daughter of Greencreek let go of Trav and stood up, looking at Owl. “You’re so lucky. I wish I had a big, muscled bodyguard to escort me around all the time. Oh, wait. I do now!” She giggled.
Owl looked at Trav, mouthing “bodyguard?” Trav smirked and shrugged.
“Trav is actually my—”
“Trav. That’s a very strange nickname. And Owl… Oh, I know. Those are those weird birds with the big eyeballs that leave gross hair and bone turds all over the ground, right?”
Trav laughed. The girl cocked her head. “Isn’t that what they are?”
He nodded, his face red. Owl scowled and folded her arms.
I can’t believe we risked our lives for this idiot.
“I thought so. And now I’m still stuck being Third Daughter of Greencreek. That’s way too long of a name.”
“Why don’t we just call you ‘Greencreek?’” Owl suggested.
“No, that’s my mother’s name. Just call me ‘Creek.’” Her snobby tone grated Owl further. “You know, I feel so much better now that I met you guys. I feel safe with you. Especially you, brother. You’re so very strong-looking. And smart too.” She squeezed Trav’s bicep.
Owl clenched her jaw. This next week with “Creek” better not be filled with the same amount of brainless comments and fawning over my consort.
“If you’re quite finished, I think we should keep moving.” Owl folded her arms.
“Oh. Do you think it’s safe?”
“Probably not,” Trav replied. “But we can’t stay here forever. We need to get out of these ruins.”
“Whatever you say, Trav. You lead the way. Oh, I’m so excited to be going back home!” She giggled and clapped her hands together, hopping up and down; her chest bounced up and down along with her. Trav’s gaze lingered for a moment, then he wrestled it away.
Owl sighed and pulled a metal chair away from the building’s entrance. They headed outside, eyeing the street with weapons drawn. Creek bounced along beside Trav. Once the ruined buildings thinned out, he relaxed, his hatchet hanging at his side.
“Trav?” Creek said.
“Hmm?”
“Are you part Mainlander?”
“No.”
“Oh. I just thought, because of your hair, and you’re so light, but… that’s good. I don’t think Mainlanders and Islanders should mix. It’s not natural. I know I would never couple with a Mainlander. What about you, Owl? Would you couple with an Islander?”
“Actually—”
“No, right? It’s too weird. And Mainlanders are afraid of Islanders anyway. They don’t like our teeth. Isn’t that funny? Mainlanders leave their teeth flat. Like a cow. I don’t care about teeth so much, but I just wouldn’t couple with a Mainlander on principle.”
Trav stopped and Owl nearly ran into the back of him. He looked at Creek. “Owl is my consort.”
Creek’s mouth fell open. She turned to Owl, then back to Trav, laughing loudly. “You’re funny!”
“No—”
“That’s too funny. A Mainlander and an Islander. How weird would that be? Can you imagine your ugly little crossbreed babies?”
Owl grated her teeth.
“Although, you’re very handsome, brother, so any babies you’d make would probably be cute. You have such beautiful cheekbones and eyes. I am so confused as to why y
ou are just now on your naming quest. A handsome man like you should have a wife and kids by now… Oh, but maybe it’s lucky for me that you don’t.” Creek giggled.
Owl tried to bore a hole through Creek’s head with her gaze. Trav said, “I was taking care of my sick mother in my twenties. She was more important than my quest at the time.”
“Oh, and so kind too!”
This was going to be a long week.
December 27, 152—I still see that man’s throat gushing blood when I close my eyes. I know it was necessary, and I’m glad Trav is okay, but I wish that image would go away.
December 28, 152—I’m going to strangle Creek.
The next evening, they emerged from the inner city and stopped on the outskirts of the ruins. Owl would have preferred to walk for several more hours, but Creek kept complaining that she was tired. They camped in a mansion of sorts—a large, stately house overlooking a valley of destroyed skyscrapers and rubble. A swimming pool sat in the front yard, several inches of scummy water in the bottom. Palm trees arched over the house. A large sitting room occupied the downstairs, with ancient couches and an impressive fireplace. Paintings of serene landscapes hung crookedly on the walls, some warped from water damage, and a chandelier laced with cobwebs dangled precariously from above. The house held many bedrooms, but the ceiling had caved in on several.
Owl and Trav sat on a bed with a worn, red velvet duvet and an askew canopy over the top. Vines clung to the room’s window, and the floor was more grass than carpet. Creek had finally finished rambling about things and gone to bed in another bedroom.
Owl inhaled the dank smell of vegetation and leaned back on the bed. “How do you think that girl survived all this time?”
“I have no idea. She’s definitely not the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement. And everything she does irritates me. Not to mention she almost got you killed.” An image of Trav’s purple, gasping face grazed her mind.
Trav cocked his head to one side. “Is that why you’re upset? That was my choice to help her. She’s not that bad. …Or are you just jealous?”
Owl scowled. “Jealous of what? How light her head must feel with no brain inside it?”
A smirk grew on Trav’s face and he pointed at her. “You know what I noticed today? When you frown, just like you are now, you get these cute little dimples in your cheeks.”
She batted his hand away. “I wish you would tell her to stop being so clingy on you. I’ve tried to bite my tongue since she’s been with us, because I know we can’t abandon her, and I don’t want things to get awkward, but it’s really getting on my nerves.”
Trav’s smile faded. “Okay, I’ll talk to her. I think it’s kind of cute that she has a crush on me, and harmless, but I didn’t know it was bothering you so much. And you know I’m not interested in her, right? Only you.”
Owl sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”
“You really are cute when you’re mad, though.” Trav practically purred as his hand crept to her knee and squeezed it once.
She was so much more at ease using their agreed upon signals. A squeeze of the knee meant: “yes/I want.” A squeeze on the elbow was: “no/stop.”
“So what makes you think I’d want to fool around right now?”
“Because you’re jealous. You wanna take it out on me?”
Owl scrunched up her face, glaring. Maybe it would take her mind off Creek and that alley man’s terrified eyes. She proffered him a small smile, then squeezed his knee and pushed him back onto the bed. His hair lay around his face like a gold halo. She kissed him hard, then touched his neck, gliding her fingers over the fading red mark from the iron bar. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. But I’ll be even better if you kiss me like that again.” He grinned.
In the morning, Owl walked downstairs and out of the house to their campfire. Trav sat on a rock, hunched over a cup of tea. She yawned. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Trav looked up and smiled, and she sat next to him. “Where’s Creek? Still asleep?”
Trav took a sip of his tea. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“She probably can’t remember how to climb out of a bed.”
She poured herself some tea and walked to the edge of the sloping hill overlooking the jumbled and smashed buildings in the valley below. Bright sun kissed her skin with warmth, but the chilly air held a thick humidity that clung to her like a wet blanket. Before long, footsteps crunched through the leaves. Creek perched herself on a rock next to Trav. She wore a low-cut green dress with a very short hem.
“Good morning, brother.” She scooted uncomfortably close to him.
“Morning, sister.”
“I was just up looking through things in my bedroom. You can find some very interesting stuff in these old houses! For example, I found this beautiful dress up there in a drawer.”
“Uh, are you going to walk in that today? Might not be the best choice.” Owl took a sip of tea.
Creek looked up. “Oh. Hey, Owl. I’m sure it will be fine. It’s not uncomfortable.”
Owl glanced away, muttering in a mock tone. “Oh. Hey, Owl. Do you like this slutty dress? I’m wearing it so I can steal your consort.”
“Do you want something to eat?” Trav’s gaze lingered on Creek’s cleavage. “We don’t usually eat breakfast, but…”
“Ooh, yes, please! Do you have any fish?”
“Afraid not. Just mealcakes and vegetables right now.” He dug into his pack and produced a wrapped mealcake.
“What’s a mealcake?” Creek broke off a piece and crunched on it. “It’s weird but better than some of the other things I’ve had to eat while I’m here. I can’t wait to go back home.”
“I’m surprised your island let you come here by yourself.” Owl sat next to the campfire.
Trav gave Owl a dirty look, but Creek said, “I know, right? My brother actually wanted to escort me, but our Elder wouldn’t let him. He said I had to go on my own or it didn’t count. I wish he could have come, though, and I wouldn’t have ended up in this mess. Was your naming quest hard, brother?”
Trav nodded. “Harder than it should have been.”
“I sure hope my Elder understands why I’m coming back without rocks from the rainbow beach.”
“I’m sure he will.” Trav took a distinct interest in a rock nearby as Creek fixed the strap on her dress. “I doubt that they are even sending people to the Mainland for quests anymore, with the Soots taking over the Northwest. Maybe your Elder will have a quest for you to do on your island. One that’s easier.”
Creek clasped her hands together, her breast jiggling. “Oh, that would be great! I hope I get a nice name. Like… Dewdrop. Or Sunshine. My sister’s name is Fishscales. So gross.”
After breakfast, they left the mansion behind, following a road through a residential area lined with other expensive homes. Trav stopped in several and found things worth trading—copper wires, bolts, the head of a hammer, and several blankets. The path led to a countryside of vineyards and orchards. Several caravans passed by on adjacent roads throughout the day. Creek stuck by Trav, occasionally touching his arm. Owl tried to tune out her incessant chatter.
After several more days of walking and many, many irritating one-sided conversations about everything under the sun, the ocean appeared on the horizon. A sprawling trade town of grass-roofed houses and tall, wooden lookout towers stretched along the coast. People milled around in the market, laughing and chatting—most of them Islanders. Trav stopped to talk to a man while Creek and Owl looked at an assortment of baubles a merchant had on display.
Trav leaned into Owl to be heard over the din of the crowd. “That man said that the tradeship we want to get on will be here tomorrow. It comes every other day. It’s probably going to cost all of the tins we have. We have to follow a trail near a cliff to get to the dock because the main passage will be blocked by caravans.” He paused. “He also tol
d me that the route we took was really dumb and dangerous. As if we didn’t already know. He said if we had gone farther south, we would have been greeted by many friendly towns full of Mainlanders, and several villages of Pearlollans. I guess more and more Pearlollans are coming to the Mainland to settle because the islands are getting overcrowded. …So much has happened in the three years since I’ve been gone. I can only imagine how different Nis must be now.”
Owl put her lips to Trav’s ear. “Well, Sasha didn’t know any better, and neither did we. Plus, we rescued Miss Never-Shuts-Up from certain doom.”
Creek held a pair of carved wooden earrings to her face, peering into a mirror on the merchant’s stall. “Oh, they’re so beautiful. But I don’t have any money or anything to trade.” She looked at Trav. “Brother, will you buy me these earrings?”
Trav shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we need all the money we have so we can pay for passage on the tradeship back to the Pearlollans.”
Creek pouted but put the earrings back. Trav said something and pointed, but it was inaudible over the crowd. She and Creek followed him through the marketplace until the people thinned out and tiny homes replaced the market kiosks.
They stood on a gravel path between the wooden huts, passed by people with packs and jars under their arms. A girl walked by playing an ocarina. Trav leaned into them. “I would very much like to go down to the beach. I thought maybe we could camp there while we wait for the ship to arrive. I don’t think the walk is very far.”
“Sounds great,” Owl said.
Trav grinned. “I get to see the love of my life again.”
12 ~ Beach ~
They walked through town until finding the cliff-side path, a worn but still difficult route down to the beach. Owl picked her way carefully down the smooth rocks—she didn’t need another tumble down a hill.
She reached the bottom after Trav, planting her feet into the soft sand. The ocean lay before them, the sound crashing in her ears. Her breath left her. The wide expanse of foamy, rippling blue-green water stretched to the edge of the world, and reminded her of the thick, warped panes of glass in her old house, but it moved, roiled, and sparkled in the light. She walked closer, absently stepping on driftwood, plastic bottles, and fishing nets. Owl deviated around tents made of tarps and old sheets until reaching the water’s edge. It lapped at the wet, twinkling sand, the waves a low roar.
