Kindred (Akasha Book 2)

by Indie Gantz

  “Charlie,” Tirigan interrupts suddenly. “I am fairly certain your mental faculties could be better distributed at the moment.”

  Avias’ eyes widen comically, chucking to himself as he backs away from me and nods in agreement. “Yes, Charlie. Weren’t you just lamenting over your silencing cast ignorance?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I raise my hands in defense. I’m not entirely sure why Tirigan wants to keep our monster sighting to ourselves, but I’m willing to go along with it. “Okay, teach me something, Ave.”

  Tirigan catches Avias’ eye as my brother settles into a seated position on the eave of the roof, completely absorbed in the book in his lap. It isn’t until I clear my throat that Avias brings his attention back to me. He blushes as he steps closer and gestures downward.

  “Shall we sit?”Avias asks as he looks down at his feet.

  “Sure.” I give Avias a teasing smile and join him on the grey rubber shingles.

  The solar panels that decorate much of the roof are scattered in different areas, breaking the roof up into a mosaic of grey and silver. Once I’m seated, it looks like a maze, with Tirigan somewhere in the middle.

  “Am I wrong to assume you haven’t read much on sound waves yet?” Avias asks cynically.

  “Err, no,” I reply, rolling my eyes but also cringing slightly. “I have mostly been focusing on the components of the atmosphere and how to manipulate it. I mean, I stayed up the other night reading those books you gave—”

  “It’s all right,” Avias replies. “Let’s just start simple. Theoretical knowledge is just as important as practical.”

  Avias sits a little taller as he delves into his lesson. It’s obvious he enjoys the sound of his own voice, but I can’t hold that against him. It’s a nice voice, and his narcissistic leanings seem to be tempered by the incessant teasing Bo, and now me, force him to endure.

  “Sound waves exist as variations of pressure in air. When an object vibrates, such as a voice-box, those vibrations are then transferred to the air. The vibrating air causes the human ear— Err… the eardrum to vibrate in return.”

  Avias gives me a guilty look so subtle I can’t even be sure that’s what I’m seeing. He pauses a moment, probably trying to figure out if he should address the slip up, but then begins again when I don’t comment on it. Being only half-human in a house full of humans isn’t something I’m sensitive about. Maybe I should be, but I just can’t find the energy to care about that, too. I’ve got far more important things to worry about.

  “Each individual air molecule containing the vibration of the sound wave doesn’t move towards the eardrum, though. Instead, much like water molecules, the air molecule only moves a short distance. Each air molecule causes the one after it to vibrate along with it in a ripple effect all the way to the ear.”

  “So, you’re saying manipulate the first group of air molecules, and you’ll manipulate the entire sound wave.”

  “Exactly.” Avias smiles proudly. “If I wanted to decrease the volume of your voice, or decrease the amplification of the sound waves emanating from your voice box, I would simply need to condense the air molecules. More molecules in the relay, less sound. Understand?”

  I nod. “Yeah. At least, I think so.”

  “Well, let’s try it,” Avias challenges. “I’m going to start reciting what I’ve remembered from Swann’s Way.” He smirks wickedly. “I know how much you love it.”

  I roll my eyes and give him a frown that just barely manages to hold. Even though he’s planning on annoying me with Tirigan’s preferred weapon of irritation, my fondness for him grows.

  “You’re a horrible person,” I reply, my eyes already closed and beginning to concentrate.

  “In ascertaining and noting the shape of their spires,” Avias quotes, his voice cavernously deep but as soft as velvet. “The changes of aspect, the sunny warmth of their surfaces, I felt that I was not penetrating to the full depth of my impression, that something more lay behind that mobility, that luminosity, something which they seemed at once to contain and to conceal.”

  While Avias recites Proust, I can’t help but let out a huff of annoyance. That’s one of Tirigan’s favorite passages too.

  Trying to focus, I open my eyes and zero in on Avias’ throat, watching as it moves along with his voice.

  A shiver runs through me as my body adjusts to the sudden appearance of shimmering waves, originating at Avias’ throat and then moving outward. I take a moment to marvel at the sight. Actually seeing a sound wave isn’t something I’ve ever even thought about desiring, but now that I can, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything more majestic.

  “... I wished only to keep in reserve in my brain those converging lines, moving in the sunshine, and, for the time being, to think of them no more...” Avias continues.

  I focus on the beginning of the wave, remembering that I only need to manipulate the environment around the first part of the wave to affect the entire thing. My eyes strain at first, trying to see the air molecules as individuals rather than the wave they generate. Each one vibrates, making it even more difficult.

  Not entirely sure of what I am doing, I pay most attention to the first section of the wave and try to condense more and more air molecules into it.

  “And it is probable that, had I done so, those two...”

  Avias’ last words slowly descend lower and lower until he is silenced all together, his lips still moving.

  He pulls them into a small smile once he registers what I’ve done. I beam back at Avias, and when my eyes dart over to Tirigan’s to gloat, I find him already staring in our direction. My brother’s eyes, wide and unblinking, are fixed on Avias.

  What’s wrong? I ask.

  My mental intrusion snaps my brother out of whatever it was he was thinking. He begins to blink rapidly and then pulls his eyes back to his book. On a hunch, I read his body temperature. I’d been learning his natural temperature over the last couple days, figuring it would be a good skill to have. I’m grateful for it now, because I can immediately see the excessive warmth pooling in my brother’s face.

  What’s so embarrassing? I prod, regretting it immediately.

  Tirigan’s head snaps up, his body temperature regulating at an alarming rate. Do not read me without my permission, Charlie. It is an invasion of privacy.

  I’m sorry... I just… Sorry. Tirigan doesn’t respond.

  I return my gaze to Avias, who glares back with irritation. He has his finger pointed at his throat and a challenge in his eyes.

  “Oh, right. Sorry,” I reply quickly and then concentrate on giving Avias his voice back.

  “Thank you,” Avias says once his voice is restored. “Well done, Charlie.” He smiles at me then turns his head to look back at my brother.

  “Your sister’s picked it up just as easily as you, Tirigan. I suspect that will be a regular occurrence.”

  “What?” I ask. “Silencing you?”

  Avias turns back to me when Tirigan does no more than nod in acknowledgement, not even lifting his head up from his book.

  “No,” Avias pretends to glare again. “Surpassing expectations.”

  I balk, insulted. “You realize you basically just admitted to thinking I’m an idiot, right?”

  “Not so!” Avias shakes his head, but then shrugs in defeat. “Well, not an idiot. Either way, I’m sorry.” He pauses. “You sell yourself short a lot. You can’t blame me for thinking you’d struggle a bit.”

  “Yes, I can and do,” I respond, crossing my arms over my chest, and then quickly uncrossing them again, realizing how childish the posture is. “You didn’t set your expectations low for Tirigan, did you?”

  “Well no, but—”

  “But what?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

  Avias says nothing for a moment, obviously struggling to understand why I’m upset. Then, something clicks, and he nods.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” Avias says softly. “I certainly won’t be making that m
istake again.”

  “Good,” I respond, still stung but moving through it quickly. I may not feel the need to compete with Tirigan, but I don’t like the idea of other people comparing us. “As long as that’s settled.”

  “If you two are finished with whatever that just was,” Tirigan interrupts. “Can we discuss how the earth’s surface isn’t approaching the negative eighteen degree Celsius a reversed greenhouse effect should incur?”

  Avias looks absolutely delighted by the question, but I just shake my head and stand up with a sigh. “I’m finding Bo.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  You Can’t Blame Gravity

  The sun’s just barely breaking the tree line behind the house, but I’ve been up for hours.

  Sitting outside in the backyard, I’ve got a history book in my lap and an Aéras stone that plays songs from Kor’s band beside me. I bend my head back and close my eyes, soaking in the sun’s soft rays and willing myself to concentrate.

  I’ve been struggling to sleep lately, what with the fear of waking up in a flurry of smoke and ash. It happened again yesterday morning, but this time Tirigan wasn’t there to wake me up, and it was only when the skin under my feet began to scream that I pulled myself out of my dream. I woke up to find the soles of my feet blistered and peeling. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Tirigan. It’s just one more thing to worry about. It’ll go away eventually. I just have too much to learn and my mind is overwhelmed. Once all of this becomes second nature, the nightmare-turned-reality portion of some of my mornings should go away.

  I sigh and caress the grass beside me.

  I should be focusing on understanding the High Coven hierarchy and how Téssera governing works, or even re-reading everything I’ve already studied in search of ‘Obispo.’ Despite my current inability to concentrate, I know it’s important to understand how this world works. At the very least so I don’t accidently break the law and change a duck into a snake, which, as it turns out, is actually against the law.

  The transformation of a sentient being from one thing into another is forbidden. It goes against the natural order of the Divine Spirit, one of the Téssera’s most sacred laws.

  The law definitely makes sense, but I don’t really know what would have possessed anyone to see a duck swimming in a lake and turn it into a snake in the first place. The Divine Spirit, or the pseudo-religion portion of Téssera life, has yet to really resonate with me, probably because I haven’t given it my attention, but I’m sure I’ll get around to it eventually.

  Téssera also have the typical societal laws, like not stealing or killing, but there are other rules specifically tailored to Téssera, just like the ‘no-ducks-to-snakes’ law.

  For example, I’m not allowed to pull water from the earth more than three times a day. The same rule applies for each individual element in the atmosphere. When it comes to other elements and organic compounds, you can pull as much as you want from the earth but are limited to five elements or compounds per day.

  Avias says it’s to insure Earth’s resources have enough time to renew and rebuild, while also limiting the power of individual Téssera. The more a Téssera practices, the more powerful they become, and limiting that power becomes important the older a Téssera gets. Their power increases not just because they are more aware of the elements and molecules at their disposal, but because the Divine Spirit begins to recognize each Téssera individually and a bond is formed.

  At least, that’s how Oleander describes it. The Divine Spirit is the Earth. I’ve been told multiple times that the Divine Spirit is not a God, not in the way Aplos humans thought of Gods, but an energy. A life force. The creator and the destroyer. It’s a little difficult to wrap my head around. Just like the elements themselves.

  Out of all of them, the earth element, Gi, has definitely proven to be the most difficult to get a grasp on, followed closely by Aéras. There’s just too much that make up each of them, and I feel like my brain is physically incapable of putting all of their components together.

  After our first flight in the jungle, Tirigan and I were able to impress Avias with our skills when he initiated a flying lesson the other day. I couldn’t help but feel a guilty, yet satisfying, kind of pride at his incredulous expression at our competence. Probably because I’m still a little bitter at his lack of faith in me during our sound waves lesson.

  We aren’t experts at flying, but we’re both picking it up quickly. Being a master of Gi, however, means understanding how every single element of Earth’s periodic table works. It means being able to isolate individual carbon bonds and manipulate them. It means being able to pull acetone out of plants or collect nitrates from the soil. It means having the ability to find and stabilize certain isotopes. It means literally knowing and understanding every atom and molecule that make up the human body. Then you have to know how to use them and how to make their presence useful to you.

  Aéras is similar. To fully master it, you have to know every element and molecular bond in the atmosphere. Then you add in the laws of physics and nature that you can manipulate, but never break. Things like not being able to destroy anything completely, but only transform it into something else, or not being able to create something from nothing.

  The first Téssera weren’t as powerful as the ones that live today because they weren’t aware of these laws. They didn’t know or understand what an atom was. The advances in human science and technology allowed Téssera to truly blossom into the powerful beings they are today.

  Oleander claims that all of this knowledge will come naturally to us, as it eventually did to those who came before us. He says the ability to not only absorb, but also understand all of the information needed to manipulate our elements, is innate. The Divine Spirit doesn’t just provide us with the power to manipulate our world; it also offers us the potential to understand our world on an anatomical level.

  How considerate.

  I soak up the newly budding sun on my face for just another moment before I force myself back to the chapter I’m reading.

  Téssera outlived Aplos humans by using our abilities to invoke the elements in our favor. Many Téssera died, both in the initial strike and in the aftermath, but we were able to survive as a species by manipulating Earth’s elements.

  Our ancestors cooled charred earth and brought fresh soil to the surface. They removed the toxins from the atmosphere little by little until it was clean once more. The Téssera that survived the fallout worked tirelessly to restore Earth to its original form.

  Unfortunately, there were portions that were far too damaged to be salvageable. The asteroid struck in what was once South Africa, and Téssera have yet to inhabit any area south of the equator. It is still incredibly dangerous. The air is thick with toxins, and the land is home to beasts that made their way to Earth’s surface after the strike. The High Coven continues to protect Téssera land from the south side of the world with carefully placed barriers.

  “Carefully placed barriers,” I repeat sardonically.

  The textbook is lying, and whoever wrote it or was told to write it, knows it’s a lie. There isn’t any toxic air on the south side of the world. There are beasts, a fact Tirigan and I are only too aware of now, but the land is habitable. It’s full of aliens, but it’s definitely habitable. Why is there so much secrecy? Why can’t we all live together? What Vi’s ex-partner said about Tirigan and I, about what we are, implied that we are somehow threatening to Téssera. That has to mean there were people like us before. Who were they? What happened to them?

  My rising anxiety quells when I hear footsteps on the back porch.

  “Did you get much sleep last night?” Oleander’s soft, smooth voice floats effortless my way. I look over my shoulder and up at him as he walks towards me.

  When I decided to study outside, I chose to sit right in the middle of the garden Kor had boasted about. Surrounding myself with fresh herbs and vegetables seemed fitting, like studying here would somehow help me learn fa
ster.

  “A few hours, yeah,” I answer. “You’re up early.”

  “Avias threw his violin case at me,” he replies with a sigh.

  Oleander approaches the garden edge slowly, eyeing me carefully for what I assume is permission to join me.

  “Snoring?” I ask with a stifled laugh.

  “So he says,” Oleander responds, pushing his hands into his pockets. He looks around the garden for a moment then bends down and starts pulling at different herb bushes, pulling away the dead leaves. “How goes your studies?”

  I let out a strained sigh and close the textbook with a loud snap. “I could use a break.” My fingers follow the grains of wood through the carving on the cover of the book. I trace the engraving of the tree, remembering the moment my mind was accosted by it. The moment the powers that were taken from me at birth were returned. “Hey, Oleander?”

  He doesn’t stop his ministrations in the dirt. “Yeah?”

  “What’s the tree mean?” I ask, holding up the book a little so Oleander can see what I’m referencing.

  “That?” Oleander replies with a smile “Just a symbol. Déntro tis zoís and all that.”

  “Déntro tis what?” I ask, brow furrowing as my eyes fall back on the engraving.

  “Tree of life,” Oleander replies. “The Divine Spirit provides life for the tree just as it does us.”

  “How come there isn’t a lot of information on the Divine Spirit in the textbook?”

  “Well,” Oleander replies, sitting back on his heels. “Not everyone believes the same thing when it comes to Wiccanism and the Divine Spirit. The Collective isn’t about teaching one thing.”

  “Then why have the symbol for one interpretation everywhere?”

  Oleander shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just always been that way, you know?”

  “I guess,” I mumble. I still don’t understand the whole religious aspect of Téssera life, and I’m not sure I want to. Anunnaki aren’t religious, and I was raised not to believe in the supernatural. Still, if I’m going to live among Téssera, I should learn enough about their beliefs to be respectful. “Is there a book or something I could read about all that?”