Travelers

by Alia Hess

  “Take off your boots.”

  Trav stood in the surf with his pant cuffs rolled up and a big grin on his face, his bare feet covered in wet sand. She pulled off her boots and socks, tying the laces together and hooking them onto her pack. The sand felt much better. She squeezed it between her toes.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Trav hugged her, pressing his face to her neck. “I missed this so much. I can’t even tell you. I feel like I’m going to cry.” He held her harder. She smiled, breathing in the scent of his hair and the salt of the ocean.

  He pulled back and wiped his eye with his cloak sleeve, smearing his eyeblack.

  “You should put on your spectacles and look at it.”

  He raised his eyebrows and dug the spectacles from his pocket. As he set them on his nose, his mouth fell open.

  “Oh my God…” He blinked at the ocean. “That was a bad idea, darling, because now I’m going to cry again.”

  Owl rubbed his back as he stared into the water. It was oddly quiet at this spot of beach. Creek wasn’t talking. She didn’t appear to be on the beach at all. People swam in the ocean and lay on the sand, and a few others walked down the cliffside path, but none of them were her.

  “Where’d Creek go?”

  Trav struggled to pull his gaze from the sea. “What?”

  “Where’s Creek?”

  He scanned the beach. “Maybe I should go look for her.”

  The thought wasn’t appealing. “You’ve been looking forward to getting here for ages now. Enjoy this some more. If she doesn’t show up soon, we’ll go look.”

  “You’re right.” He wrapped his arms around Owl’s waist. “I’m so happy being here right now. With you.”

  Owl smiled and kissed Trav as the waves crashed around them. Someone whistled and clapped, and they looked up. A man watched them, grinning. His skin shone with an almost iridescent luster, and long black hair fell down his back in tiny braids decorated with shells.

  “Way to go, brother! You got a Mainlander to fall for you. That is hard to do. I should know. I have been trying to get one for ages, but they are all afraid of me. What’s your secret?”

  “I think this one is crazy.”

  The man laughed heartily. “That must be it. My name is Greatwind. Nice to meet you.” He proffered his hand.

  Trav shook it. “I go by Trav. Nice to meet you too.”

  “And you, crazy lady. What is your name?” Greatwind held out his hand.

  “I’m Owl.” She kept her hands at her sides.

  Trav squeezed her around the shoulders. “She doesn’t like to touch people.”

  “Hey, that’s fine. I wouldn’t touch me either. Maybe that’s my problem.” Greatwind stroked his chin thoughtfully, then looked at Trav. “You must be something special, then yeah? You must show me your ways, O Great One. Anyway, it is nice to meet you. May I ask why you are here? Are you waiting for the boat?”

  “Yes. We’re going to Nis.”

  “Taking your woman back home with you, eh? Good for you. I am waiting for the boat as well. Me and my brother sell cured fish to the caravans here. We come here every couple of weeks with our fish and go home to Pearlolla with tins in our pockets. It’s a good arrangement. Are you staying on the beach tonight?”

  Trav nodded.

  “Great! You are welcome to party with us tonight. We have moonshine and food and naal bark.”

  “Naal bark? No thanks.”

  “Well, you certainly don’t have to partake. But you are welcome to come hang with us if you want. And if you have other party favors, bring them as well.”

  “I have scorpion leaf.” Trav smirked at Owl.

  Greatwind raised his eyebrows. “What fun! And what a thing for a Nisian to carry. That settles it then. You and Owl will party with us tonight. Please, come meet my brother.”

  Owl leaned in toward Trav. “What’s naal bark?”

  “A bad decision.”

  They followed Greatwind around the side of a high cliff encrusted with moss and barnacles. A colorful canopy jutted from the cliff wall, and many blankets lay on the sand on the little slice of beach. Fishing poles and baskets leaned against the canopy’s side. A handful of people lounged on the blankets, and a woman in a white dress reclined on a large piece of driftwood. Her skin shone like polished onyx in the sunlight. A man under the canopy stood up when he saw them coming.

  “Greatwind, who do you have now?” The man shook his head, feather earrings wagging. He pulled his long hair into a bun.

  “This is my brother, Greenisle. Brother, these two are going to hang with us tonight. This is Trav and Owl.”

  Greenisle lingered on their faces for a moment, then his gaze narrowed on Greatwind. He looked back at them, the slight trace of irritation leaving his face. “How nice to meet you. My brother seems to make friends with everyone. I tell him we have food and drink for twenty, and he invites one hundred. But the more, the merrier, as they say.” He gestured to the woman in the white dress walking toward them. “This is my wife, Sweetbird.”

  “Hello there!” She smiled at Owl. “Look at those beautiful eyes. You are very pretty.”

  Owl dropped her gaze. “Thank you.” She would never measure up to this woman’s high cheekbones and pouty lips.

  Sweetbird caressed Trav’s blond braid, and his face turned rosy. “And what… interesting hair you have, brother! How very unusual. You are quite the couple …You are a couple, right?”

  Trav looked into the sand and swallowed. “Yes.”

  “No need to look so ashamed. No judgements here. How could there be with Greatwind hitting on all the Mainlanders?” She chuckled. “Are you jealous of Trav, brother-in-law?”

  “You know I am.” Greatwind laughed, pulling a large plastic jug out from under the canopy. He poured the contents evenly into two hollow coconut shells and handed them to Trav and Owl.

  “Oh, thank you.” Owl took a sip. The moonshine had a unique, fruity flavor she couldn’t place.

  “Please, sit down and relax,” Greatwind said. “More people will come to party with us later, but feel free to stay and hang here as long as you like. That is, if you don’t have anything more important to do.”

  Trav leaned into Owl. “We should find Creek.”

  Owl pulled in a deep breath. “I’ll go. You enjoy your ocean.”

  Greatwind cocked his head.

  “We have another companion with us,” Owl explained. “A girl from Tam.” She’s an idiot. “We picked her up in some city ruins a week ago and promised to take her back to her island. But we don’t know where she went. I’m going to go look for her.”

  “I’ll go too,” Sweetbird offered. “I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing.”

  Trav took a drink from his coconut cup. “If you two don’t find her soon, let me know.”

  Owl and Sweetbird walked down the beach, tiny pieces of tumbled glass glittering in the sand.

  “You know, Islanders and Mainlanders don’t normally couple. How long have you and Trav been together?”

  “A couple of months.”

  “Is he a half-breed?”

  Owl gave her a sidelong glance. “No. All Nisian. He’s albino.”

  “Hmm. Being with an Islander doesn’t put you off?”

  “No. Why would it?” Trav said Pearlollans were friendly and spoke their minds, but this woman was downright rude.

  They rounded the cliff’s side to the bigger area of beach, walking toward the path leading back up to the village.

  Sweetbird cleared her throat. “So, this companion of yours. What’s her name?”

  “Third Daughter of Greencreek.”

  “Oh. Did she come here for a naming quest?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, she was supposed to go to some beach of rainbow rocks way up north, but somehow ended up going south instead and walked all the way here.”

  “Wow. That’s, uh… unfortunate.”

  They reached the cliff-side path and c
limbed it slowly, holding onto wooden posts hammered into the sides of the trail here and there. Owl stopped for a moment, leaning on a post, her gaze hopping from person to person. She and Sweetbird continued to the top. They headed through town, scanning the buildings and passersby for Creek. Upon reaching the residential area just outside the market, Owl said, “This is where we last saw her.”

  She squinted into the crowd until spying a short woman in a green dress with her back to them, talking to a group of men. The girl jumped up and down, clapping her hands together. Owl sighed.

  “Creek!”

  Third Daughter of Greencreek turned around. She waved to Owl, then turned to the group of men for another moment before skipping up to her.

  “Hey! I have great news!”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Well, this guy started talking to me, see? He was telling me how pretty I am and asking if I was all alone here. Then he bought me those earrings I wanted. Look!” Creek tugged on the carved wooden earrings hanging from her ears. “I told him that I couldn’t complete my naming quest because I didn’t get to go to the rainbow beach. And guess what? He said that there is another rainbow beach just a short walk away! I’m supposed to meet him and his friends on the beach tonight, and they can show me where it is!”

  Part of Owl wished she hadn’t found Creek. She put a hand to her forehead. “Let me get this straight—you meet a strange man. He asks you if you are alone. He tells you he can help you. And all you have to do is meet him late at night with a bunch of his friends in tow?”

  “That’s right!” Creek clapped her hands together.

  An image of Trav’s breathless, strangled face flashed through Owl’s mind again. Her nostrils flared and she bit her lip.

  “There’s no rainbow beach around here, honey,” Sweetbird said. “I know where you’re talking about—it’s high up north. There’s no sand. It’s just millions of pieces of colored glass, polished by the ocean into pebbles. It’s a beautiful place, but we are very, very far away from it. And there’s only one. My husband has been everywhere along the coast. He’s never talked about another rainbow beach.”

  “But, those guys said—”

  Owl turned, walking back toward the cliffside path. Creek caught up with her.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Owl whirled. “You are so impossibly stupid. And you’re going to get me and Trav killed if you keep doing shit like this. Those guys don’t want to take you to a rainbow beach, Creek. They’ll rape you. They’ll kill you. And then they’ll throw your body into the ocean for the sharks.”

  Creek’s lip quivered. Owl turned again, stomping down the gravel path. From behind her, Sweetbird said, “Come on, honey. You and your companions are coming to my party tonight. You’re going to have fun. Don’t worry about those men anymore.”

  Owl reached the beach and walked around the cliff. Trav sat in the sand, watching the ocean with his cup of moonshine still in his hands.

  “This must be the missing companion,” Greatwind said. Owl glanced back as he approached Creek and Sweetbird. “A pleasure to meet you, my dear. I am Greatwind.”

  Trav pushed his spectacles up his nose. “I see you found Creek.”

  Owl puckered her lips, watching tiny, translucent creatures hop through the wet sand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That girl is going to kill us with her stupidity. And if she comes near me again, I’m going to kill her.”

  “What happened?”

  “Go ask her. She’ll tell you all about it.”

  Trav looked behind him, then back at Owl. He made no move to get up. Her nerves felt like Gale’s backpack—over-encumbered and ready to burst at the seams. “You almost died the other day. I had to kill a man. I can’t get the pictures out of my head. I just—I don’t want to be at a party. With Creek. With people that ask me if you’re a half-breed.”

  Trav studied her face. “We don’t have to be at a party. I’m sure Creek will be fine with these people. We should probably still sleep on the beach tonight, since the tradeship will be at the dock in the morning. But while you were gone, I noticed a tunnel that goes through the cliff and comes out somewhere else. Might be a better place. You want to go see?”

  “I don’t know…” The small black tunnel in the jagged cliff wall felt like a metaphor for her life—heading into the dark unknown and not knowing what lay on the other side.

  Behind her, a group of people rounded the cliff carrying jugs and baskets of food. She twisted further—Sweetbird and Greenisle pulled out a metal cooking rack and placed it near the bonfire. Greatwind greeted the new guests with a broad grin, arms open.

  Okay, where did Creek go now?

  After scanning the guests again, Owl spotted her walking out of the colorful canopy with a coconut cup in her hand, heading toward them.

  “Hey, Trav.” Creek sat next to him, smiling coyly. “Did you get a drink?”

  Owl dug her fingers into the sand. She opened her mouth, but Trav answered. “You need to go somewhere else right now, Creek.”

  “What? But why?”

  “Owl wants to be alone.”

  Creek shrugged. “Okay. I don’t have a problem with that. I can keep you company instead.”

  Would anyone mind too much if she hit Creek in the head with a rock? Owl pushed out of the sand, heading for the small tunnel in the cliff. Trav called her name, but she didn’t turn around. She blinked in the black, cool shadows of the tunnel, her bare feet scraping on rocks and unknown refuse. A little patch of shore sat beyond the tunnel. Clumps of Old World trash—bottles and nets and tin cans—drifted in the water, seaweed clinging to the piles like wet green skin. Alone, she dropped into the sand, drawing her knees to her chest and looking out at the ocean.

  Too many thoughts ran through her head, her anxiety increasing with each one: Creek, Trav, half-breed, Nis, Hawthorne, Slavers, and that alley man’s throat forming a waterfall of blood. She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning against a warm boulder. What was she doing? Where was she going? She had felt so alone—so aimless and confused—on the day of her accident in the desert. Had anything really changed?

  The ocean rolled with an excitement and optimism the forlorn desert didn’t have. Plus, she had Trav. Maybe. She looked to the tunnel, imagining Creek hanging from his arm, spilling his drink and giggling.

  After a while, Trav appeared from the tunnel’s shadows. He sat beside her, then placed his spectacles on his nose and put his arm around her back. Owl sank into him with a sigh.

  Seagulls above drifted on invisible currents. Tiny ships bobbed at the horizon. Bubbles of white froth clung to wet rocks, and the ocean sounded like the world exhaling…

  Someone screamed. Owl sat up with a jerk, an afterimage of Trav’s choking face lingering in her mind as she stared into the night’s darkness beyond their makeshift tent. He was beside her, their blanket pulled up around his bare, broad shoulders.

  The scream came again—it was a woman. Trav sat up. “What was that?”

  “If that’s Creek—”

  He crawled from the tent with his hatchet, in nothing but his underwear. Owl shouted, “Wait!”

  Trav didn’t wait, veering cautiously past blacked-out partygoers and drunks sitting in the sand. No one seemed to notice the whimpering cries coming from higher up the beach.

  Anger burned in her chest as she grabbed her machete and stumbled up the strand. In the darkness, illuminated only by stars, everything was an outline. The cries grew louder. It was definitely Creek.

  Someone jerked a petite form across the sand. Attendants of Greatwind’s party muttered and looked around, gasping or saying, “What’s going on?”

  Trav sprinted toward the struggling pair, stumbling in the sand and nearly falling over. Creek scissored her legs, convulsing against the man’s grip.

  “Hey! Let go of her!” Trav swung his hatchet into the air. Creek kicked and planted a foot into Trav’s chest. The hatchet skittered out of his ha
nd, and the man lunged for him, knocking him to the ground. A jumbled silhouette, the two men growled and punched and kicked up skids of sand.

  The machete hung useless from Owl’s hand. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness and she didn’t know who was who. People stood around, similarly perplexed. Someone tried to wrestle the men apart and was knocked to the ground.

  A glint of blond hair indicated Trav was now on top, straddling the man and swinging his fists furiously. Creek screamed.

  The outlines developed shape as her eyes adjusted, and other people ran toward the commotion. Someone tackled Trav, knocking him down. Owl swung a fist at the man, but he dodged the blow easily and struck her in the face. Blood gushed from her nose. She put a hand to the hot stream, stunned. People around her fought each other, cursed, and yelled.

  A gunshot barked loudly, echoing off of the cliff walls. Everyone stopped. Greenisle stood next to his canopy, a gun raised in the air. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but this isn’t how I throw a party. You wanna fight, take it somewhere else.”

  A man pushed away from Trav, his face indistinguishable, swollen, and bloody. He left with several others amid a hurl of insults by the partygoers.

  Owl sank into the sand by Trav. Creek sobbed nearby. Greatwind pushed through onlookers to sit next to her.

  “Are you okay?” She touched Trav’s arm. He grimaced, then reached into his mouth and pulled out one of his filed teeth. He looked at it for a moment, then flicked it into the sand, spitting blood.

  He looked at her. “Are you?”

  “I guess. I don’t think he broke it.” She wiped stickiness from her mouth.

  Creek threw her arms around Owl and Trav, wailing. “I can’t believe this happened again! You guys are my heroes!”

  “Get off me!” Owl shoved Creek. “Stay away from me!”

  She tripped over driftwood and travelers’ belongings, heading back to their tent. The man that grabbed Creek and attacked Trav was probably the same man Creek had been talking to in the market, but she didn’t really care at this point, and she wasn’t going to ask. She climbed into the tent, touching her nose gingerly. Trav crawled in beside her. She absently wondered whose blood was on his chest.