by Indie Gantz
Yes. I also suspect Kor wouldn’t be pleased with our chosen activity for the day considering how your internal organs were nearly incinerated yesterday.
“Will I ever live that down?” I ask, sensing a thaw to Tirigan’s iciness on the subject.
It’s unlikely, he replies casually.
“Was Kor mad?”
I sensed anger, yes. But other emotions as well.
You could read his emotions?
No. It was Vi’s emotions, which were fairly obvious. While she spoke to Kor, I found a recognizable reflection within them and was able to attribute them to Kor. I did not purposefully try to read him. That would be an invasion of privacy.
“Right,” I mumble. “Wouldn’t want that.”
I jump gracefully from stone to stone until I reach the other side of the riverbank and wait for Tirigan as he crosses. It gives me a moment to think about Kor and how I wasn’t able to find his mind yesterday.
He has to have some sort of defense in place. That shouldn’t be too suspicious, considering how common it is for twins to have telepathic abilities among Téssera, but it still seems strange since no one else in the house appears to have such defenses.
We should be on the lookout for drones as well, Tirigan interrupts the thoughts I wasn’t broadcasting to him as he reaches me on the other side of the bank. We should be prepared to take it offline if one approaches us.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I think I could probably shut it down with an electrical surge.”
We walk toward the jungle, stepping under the large canopy of trees and soaking in the excess moisture.
Have you been studying Fotián electrical power? Tirigan questions. It feels more like an accusation.
“Obviously,” I shoot back, annoyed. I don’t like being treated like a child, and while I understand my latest dalliance with Fotián power doesn’t exactly speak in my favor, I’ve been studying hard. “I’m not an idiot, Tirigan.”
Apologies. I did not mean to imply idiocy.
We walk quietly for a few moments. It’s not a comfortable silence. It’s full of tension I’d rather didn’t exist.
“Do you have a preference? In elements, I mean,” I ask eventually, wanting to break the silence and change the subject at the same time.
I have not mastered any of the elements yet. It would be presumptuous to assume a favorite.
I roll my eyes as I hold back a long branch for Tirigan.
“Okay, but if you had to, which one would you choose?” He shrugs and doesn’t answer.
I’d probably go with Gi. I know we haven’t had our official lesson with Oleander, but there’s just something about the Earth element. It’s just so… pure. There’s also something about Fotiá, though. It makes me... I don’t know. It’s scary, but it’s pretty amazing at the same time.
Tirigan still doesn’t answer. He continues walking in front of me, offering his hand as an apologetic gesture when a large tree blocks our path. I take it even though I don’t need his help to climb over the tree.
“I miss Resu,” I say after a few more minutes of walking. “It always answered my questions.”
Resu is a computer.
“Yeah, well, so are you sometimes,” I reply, slightly sour. “But I’d still miss you if you were gone.”
I’m not a computer. I’m… well, we don’t know what we are, but I’m fairly confident I am not a machine.
“Are you sure?” I ask, playful but still biting. “Have you checked?”
Tirigan stops short, almost causing me to bump into him.
That’s not— “Fair.” He turns to face me as he closes his mind and finishes his thought aloud.
“Fair?” I repeat, confused by his word choice.
“You operate under the assumption that I am physically incapable of expressing human emotions,” Tirigan argues. ”While your presumption is convenient at times, it is categorically false.”
“Yeah, I know, Tirigan,” I reply carefully. “It was just a joke. Relax.”
“No. I will not relax. I may not express them the same way as you, but I do experience emotions.” His statement pulls a bitter laugh from me.
“Really? How? Tell me how?” I ask, adjusting my backpack on my back and trying not to appear too grateful for this conversation. “Because it’s pretty hard to see sometimes.”
“I have...” He pauses, looking around the jungle for inspiration. “I have feelings, Charlie, and… and you hurt them.” His eyes courageously meet my own. “Often.”
I’m struck completely silent as my lips part in shock.
I know my brother has feelings. Even when he’s acting like a machine, I know he isn’t actually made of wires and switchboards. But Tirigan repeatedly tells me to step over my own feelings, and now he wants me to acknowledge his? It’s a reasonable request, but I’m still irritated by the hypocrisy.
In spite of this, the look on my brother’s face pushes me toward an apology instead of a confrontation.
“Tirigan, I’m sorry,” I tell him softly. I want to reach out and place my hand on his shoulder or arm, some sort of gesture to show just how sorry I am, but touching Tirigan would be for my benefit, not his. “I just... I just want you to let me in.” Tirigan’s brow furrows, his frown deepens.
“You have access to my mind on a regular basis.”
“Not really,” I argue gently. “You learned to filter out the good stuff a long time ago. I only know what you let me in to hear.”
“Why should I have to allow you access to my private thoughts and emotions?”
“I don’t mean that you have to tell me everything, Tir. I just mean, I wish I’d hear more from you outside of teaching moments and my long list of shortcomings.”
There’s a pause, a turn of the breeze that makes the moment lighter than it was before. Tirigan’s frown thins; his eyes fall back to the jungle floor.
“What is it you’d like to know?”
His question stumps me. Of course Tirigan would turn an invitation to engage in more open dialogue into questions and answers, but that’s just his way. And I can work with him on this.
There are a lot of things I’d like to know. I want to know how he really feels about our mother’s disappearance and the implications of the lies she’s told us. I want to know what he really thinks happened with that rogue knife at the festival and why he doesn’t want to talk about it. Does he miss John as much as I do? How does he feel about Kor? Does he feel that sense of being under a microscope whenever he’s around us? Does it frighten Tirigan like it does me to know what we might be capable of? Is he afraid that he might lose control? How does he interpret the relationships we have formed and what effect do those relationships have on him? What effect do I have on him? What about Avias? Is there something between them?
“A lot things,” I say with a resigned laugh. “Sometimes it feels like I barely know you, Tirigan.”
Tirigan’s furrowed brow relaxes, and his face falls into an expression of utter dejection.
“You’re the only person who has ever really known me, Charlie.” The admission is spoken quietly, and it pulls a sad smile to my face. I appreciate the sentiment behind his words, but I’m not exactly happy to hear them.
“That’s not good, Tir.” Tirigan’s face falls even further and my heart aches for him. “Listen, I’m your sister. I love you. I’ll always be here for you. But you have to open yourself up to other people too. I’m not saying you have to trust everyone, I’m just saying if I have trouble feeling close to you, just imagine how hard it is for everyone else.”
Tirigan is quiet for a while, his eyes searching mine and then the jungle that surrounds us for what feels like an eternity. It has to be difficult for him, pushing through his mind’s natural defense system and attempting to reach and express things he typically doesn’t even allow himself access to. Finally, after several long moments, Tirigan’s gaze meets mine again.
“Aéras,” he says confidently. “If I had to pick a favorite el
ement, I’d choose Aéras.”
Interlude III
Day Forty-Three: Tirigan
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Motivated to Become Concerned
Spending excessive amounts of time in a moving vehicle has become an odious task. My body moving of its own free will, my stomach irritated by reading.
Charlie is largely unbothered. She thinks I sleep beside her. I do nothing to correct her. More lies. Pretending to sleep is better than having to engage her. I need to understand her choice before I engage her. I need to understand the full meaning of what she has done and her subsequent apathy. I feel motivated to become concerned over this fact.
Kor and Calor are in the front of the vehicle. Kor drives. Calor sleeps against the window, still suffering from the consequences of his inebriation. Oleander was kind enough to remove what toxins he could from Calor’s body this morning and assisted him in ridding his body of the rest through natural biological functions, but still, Calor remains ill.
Avias ignored the Fotián most of the morning, but he did direct Calor to the front seat and handed him a bottle of water before resuming his complete disregard for him. Compulsory concern. Lingering affection.
Bo sits on the other side of Charlie. Still brooding. By my estimate, she will be returning to her normal loquacious self within the hour, undoubtedly breaking her silence by lecturing us on her age and abilities. Then, I have a strong suspicion she will have a lot of questions for her father. There’s an appropriate human colloquialism for this scenario that would imply Bo isn’t the only one with questions for Kor, but I do not remember what it is.
Kor’s mind is perplexing. Mysterious. Exquisite in detail. Formidable in defense. Absolutely breathtaking in its enormity. I find myself wondering what a mind like that could be capable of. Omniscience? Not likely.
“Charlie, mind handing me that map?” Oleander asks from behind me. He and Avias have taken up the farthest back seats. I can hear them whispering occasionally, Avias sounding distressed and Oleander always a soothing source of comfort.
My sister shifts beside me. Her thigh presses into mine as she leans over and procures the map to hand Oleander. Breathe. Remain slack. Only Charlie. Still overwhelmed by physical proximity. Uncomfortable. I do not shift. I do not want to engage.
“Here you go,” Charlie says. “What are you looking for?”
“We’re almost out of the desert. We’ll need to find a water source to stock up soon.”
“Once Tirigan and I are out of the desert, we’ll be able to pull it up pretty easily,” Charlie responds. “It’s not like we need a lake.”
“No,” Oleander says simply. Adjusts. Leans forward. Touching Charlie. “But it’s better to find a natural source if possible. No need to steal from her if there’s a way to receive naturally.”
I am aware of Oleander’s extreme fondness for the earth, but this speaks more to his views on Téssera power than it does of his reverence. A naturalist.
“Oh,” Charlie responds. “I guess that makes sense.” Unconvinced.
“Is Tirigan still asleep?” Kor asks from the driver’s seat. I ensure that my mind’s defense is as strong as it’s ever been and continue to regulate my breathing so it mimics typical sleeping patterns.
“Yeah,” Charlie answers. “I don’t think he slept well last night.”
“He’s not the only one,” Avias murmurs from behind me. Intere—. No. Not interesting. Irrelevant.
“Is everything all right between you two?” Bo breaks her silence. An edge to her voice. I suspect the source of her irritation has shifted. “Your brother seems pretty put off. You know, more than usual at least.”
“I don’t know. I mean, he’s a lot more... he’s been kinda... silent,” Charlie replies quietly. “Up here, I mean.” I am left to assume she is gesturing towards her temple. “He hasn’t really talked to me much since—”
“Silence does not mean quiet,” Kor interjects from the front seat. His insightfulness is an increasingly irksome problem.
“How about all y’all get quiet?” Calor’s scratchy voice comes from the front seat. He coughs. Groans. “I thought I was supposed to be better by now, Ollie.”
“I don’t think your condition is the bottle’s fault,” Kor says gently from beside him. Calor doesn’t respond.
My sister shifts. Desires a better look at the ailing Fotián. “Well, he did drink nearly the entire bottle of—”
“Was the ritual completed?” Kor interrupts Charlie again, his voice directed towards the passenger’s seat. My interest piques. Ritual. A ritual involving Calor that would not involve anyone else in this car. Something to do with his family. Something to do with—oh. Celosia. Imbecile.
“Yes,” Calor says weakly. “I… I didn’t... shit. Kor, I should’ve said—”
“It’s all right, Cal,” Kor answers.
No. It is not all right.
“What’s going on?” Charlie asks what I have already deduced.
“Oh, Cal,” Bo says softly. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“It’s not like I had a choice, Bo!” Cal nearly shouts from the front seat. Guilt. Depression. Anger. “You think I wanted this? Seriously? I didn’t want—I never wanted—”
“You made your choice,” Avias’ steady voice looms from the back seat. “You chose her.” The vehicle falls into the kind of silence that threatens to strangle those who remain quiet. “They’ll be coming for us,” Avias continues. Emotionless, resembling a drone.
I open my eyes. Sit up straight.
“Who? Who’s coming for us?” Charlie demands from beside me. The look in her eye when she registers my state tells me she has figured out my ploy. I shrug. Unbothered. A slight frown is all I receive before she is back to questioning Avias. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Celosia,” Calor croaks from the front seat. “When we… when my father brought her to me... It’s not like I could’ve said no.”
“Why? Your pronunciation is perfect,” Avias replies sharply.
“Calor,” Kor ignores Avias’ challenge. “How long have you felt this way?”
“I don’t know,” Calor answers. “Since... soon after we left.”
“Has it lessened or gotten worse?” Kor inquires.
“Worse.”
“That means they aren’t closing the distance between us,” Oleander inserts. “Why wouldn’t they follow us? Celosia has got to be just as sick.”
“My father is Gyan,” Calor replies, as if that is an adequate answer. Almost immediately, I realize it is. Obvious.
“Bloody teleporters,” Bo grumbles. “Well, if you’ve gone and performed the Desmós ceremony with Celosia, we’re pretty much up a tree now, aren’t we?”
“Desmós ceremony.” Charlie repeats absently, her mind trying to fill in the information lacking from this conversation.
There are times when I pity my sister. I know for a fact that she read about the ceremony, she is simply incapable of procuring the information from her memory as quickly as I can. Not her fault. In fact, her retention and recollection does seem to be at higher rates than others, but her deficiency remains tiresome nonetheless.
“Bonding ceremony,” Avias supplies for Charlie. “Standard ritual for arranged marriages.”
“Right, yeah. I read about that...” Charlie trails off and looks back at Avias. “Calor and Celosia have an arranged marriage?”
“Would have had,” Calor corrects. He leans over the side of his seat to get a better look at those of us sitting behind him. “That’s done with now. It’s not like I can go back.”
At this, I can stay silent no more.
“No. You can’t,” I reply. “But by coming along, you’ve led them straight to us. Bonded Kyrías cannot be separated before the marriage ritual is complete. They become physically ill and mentally weak. Which is why the Desmós ceremony invokes the ability to track one’s Kyría.”
“Track,” Charlie repeats unsteadily. “You mean Celosia can f
ind Calor right now?”
I nod. “And his family would follow along, I presume.”
Calor makes a sick sound from the front seat. “Kor, pull over. I’m gonna… pull over.”
Kor immediately pulls the vehicle off the worn road we have been traveling on. The desert is nearly behind us now. Green in the distance.
Calor is out of the vehicle before it has a chance to completely stop. He falls to the ground.
Avias shifts uncomfortably behind me. Concern. An urge to aid.
“Do you wish to assist him?” I ask. I will have to get out of the vehicle to allow Avias to exit.
“No,” Avias replies. Lie.
“I’ll go,” Charlie offers. She climbs over the center console of the front seat and exits the vehicle.
The loathsome sound of Calor vomiting onto the dirt is only increased by Charlie’s soft voice soothing him.
There is a nudge at my mind.
Open mind: Avias.
Yes? I ask.
I know what you’re thinking, but we can’t leave him out here.
I wasn’t going to suggest that.
You weren’t? I can’t see him, but I can imagine the pulled lines across Avias forehead.
No.
What do you suggest then?
I don’t know.
Avias wavers, his thoughts stuttering a moment before I can hear him easily again. I’m sorry the situation is so complicated.
What situation?
Calor continues to vomit. Kor gets out of the car to help.
The situation with Calor. There is an edge to Avias’ thought.
I see no need to apologize to me for your relationship troubles with Calor. It has nothing to do with me.
Not specifically… No. Avias responds, his embarrassment evident. But in some ways it does.
It shouldn’t.
Close mind.
I do not turn around to see his reaction. I do not need the weight of his emotional attachment.
I need focus. I need reason. I need to figure out a way to keep Calor’s family from finding us.
“How long you think he’ll retch for?” Bo asks from across the vehicle. “Think I’ve got time for a quick piss?”
