Kindred (Akasha Book 2)

by Indie Gantz

  “I doubt it. I think I like the sound of violin.”

  “You think?” Avias responds, sounding honestly affronted.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I know exactly. Anunnaki don’t play a lot of stringed instruments traditionally. I’ve definitely heard it at some point, but I don’t know that I’d be able to tell the difference between the other ones.”

  A circular disk sails through the air past us, and a young woman jumps into the air to catch it. She tosses it back, flicking her hand to direct its path away from hitting us. An older man catches it on the other side.

  “The gaps in your human knowledge are strange,” Avias says. “I don’t expect you to know some things, but then you do. And then other times, I’m quite sure you would have some knowledge of a subject, but you’re utterly clueless.”

  “Well, we only know what we learn from human books and movies and stuff. If we didn’t watch it or read it, we’d have no way of knowing it.”

  “Surely your mother—”

  “She was Anunnaki to us,” I remind him. “She never…” I trail off when my bitterness at her deceit takes hold. “If anything, John taught us more about humans.”

  “Interesting,” Avias responds quietly. He seems to contemplate this further on his own as he continues to walk beside me.

  Oleander nudges his shoulder into mine. I look up to meet his gaze and watch as he presses one finger to his temple. An invitation into his mind.

  It was strange the first time I did it, first with Avias and then later with Oleander before the battle.

  Everyone’s mind is so uniquely woven. The difference between Avias and Oleander is stark. Although rich and complex, Oleander’s mind is soft around its edges. Avias’ is cleaner, narrower. There’s a wide birth of knowledge to be found in both minds, but the way they access it is different.

  I don’t have an issue working through the more complex intricacies of their thoughts thanks to years of deciphering the puzzle that is my brother. I doubt there is any mind harder to reach, harder to understand, than Tirigan’s.

  What’s up? I ask, being careful to only enter the surface of his mind. Oleander hasn’t developed a defense system, and I could easily access thoughts he’d rather keep private.

  Bo was asking me about what Ren did to Luc, and she brought up a very good point.

  What’s that? I ask.

  In order to alter a very specific memory, the caster typically needs permission from the host, Oleander explains. In order to access the memory, the host would have to be currently thinking of it. At least, that’s how it usually works. Then you need an extremely powerful Gyan to alter the host’s chemistry in just the right way to affect only the targeted memory. It’s a very difficult task, whether you have permission or not.

  So, what are you saying?

  Well, I seriously doubt Luc allowed the memory of your alien status to be removed from his brain. His father must have taken it from him against his will, which is entirely unheard of. At least, not that either of us can recall.

  Would Kor know?

  That’s the thing. Oleander sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. We’re wondering why he hasn’t brought it up himself. Plus, that exchange he and Ren had before they left… It feels like he’s purposely keeping us out of the loop on something. Do you get that feeling?

  I chance a look over to Bo. She’s watching Oleander and I silently converse out of the corner of her eye. I contemplate letting her in on the conversation, but I feel like I need some time to think before I include her.

  I’ve been suspicious of Kor’s motivations’ and abilities for a while now; it’s not that I don’t trust him, but I do feel like there are things he hasn’t told us.

  Yes, I do. I have before too… but are you sure Bo isn’t just sore over the battle thing?

  Oleander lets out a quiet chuckle. Oh, I’m quite certain she isn’t over that yet, but she’s right. I’ve never heard of anyone being able to take a specific memory against someone’s will. Plus, memory alteration is typically reserved for mind healers. It’s not a very common skill.

  Oleander waits patiently as I work through his thoughts, wondering if I should let Tirigan in on this piece of information. Chances are, he’s already come to the same conclusion though, and I’m not anxious to see that look on his face again. The look that says he can’t believe what an idiot I am.

  Maybe we should just ask Kor about it directly.

  Oleander shrugs. Maybe. Straight to the source.

  Pushing through my reservations, I call out to Kor, still walking ahead of us. He stops and looks back at me, signaling to Tirigan to continue on ahead while he waits for me to catch up to him.

  The population of the beach has dwindled down considerably, the sand swallowed by rocks that are beginning to require attention in order to travel safely over. I nearly trip over a particularly jagged rock face, but Kor catches me just as I approach him.

  “Thanks,” I say politely, taking my arm back as soon as I’m steady. We continue walking along, everyone else traveling ahead of us now.

  “We’ll have a bit of sand ahead of us before we get to the compound’s entrance. Just a little while longer.”

  “It’s fine,” I reply. “I’m good.”

  We make our way over the rocks silently, an awkward presence between us that reminds me I should be talking. Kor undoubtedly expects me to have a reason for calling him back, but now that he’s here, I am not sure what to say.

  As if on cue, Kor prompts, “You wanted to speak with me, Charlie?”

  “Uh, yeah…” I catch myself before slipping again, this time jumping ahead to the next rock before I have a chance to fall off. “I was just wondering about Cal’s dad, how he removed Luc’s memories like that.”

  Kor doesn’t answer right away. When he does, there’s a cautious note to his voice that incites rather than allays my suspicions. “Ren’s a powerful Gyan.”

  “But to remove a specific memory he’d have to be as talented as a mind healer,” I argue calmly, as if I don’t know he’s hiding something. “And that’s assuming Luc gave him permission to remove it. That doesn’t seem likely, does it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kor challenges lightly. “There are a great many memories I’d be happy to relieve myself of.” The comment halts my progress just before I’m about to jump down into the sand. “You never know what burdens some find themselves incapable of carrying.”

  Frustration boils under my skin. Kor never answers any of the questions I ask him. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a puzzle, something to be solved rather something to be learned. I’m getting tired of it.

  I jump down to meet him on the sand, the rest of our group still moving forward with Tirigan in the lead. “It would be nice, just for once, if you actually answered a question I asked.”

  Kor looks down at me, a small frown pulling at his lips. “Perhaps you’re not asking the right questions.”

  “I think I am, but even if I’m not, you’re still evasive for no reason that I can see. Why won’t you be honest with me? With all of us?” I ask, trying not to let my rising anger show. “What did Ren mean when he asked if you knew what you were doing?” When there’s no immediate answer, I step forward and let accusation coat my words. “What are you doing, Kor?”

  Kor is quiet for so long, I start to regret my questions. His mouth’s still pulled down slightly, his eyes narrowed.

  “Charlie, you have to understand, there will always be things that you will not know,” Kor begins. I can tell he’s choosing his words very carefully, and it reminds me too much of Tirigan. “There will always be situations that I will not be able to explain to you fully,” Kor continues. “Your life… it’s not yours alone. It’s the culmination of everything and everyone who has entered it. So while you may feel entitled to certain pieces of knowledge, please understand that there are many aspects of the life you live that have very little to do with you. These are the things I do not share with you
.” He stares down at me in a way that makes me feel like I’m sinking, collapsing in on myself, becoming smaller than the grains of sand beneath my feet.

  “There are things that I may never share with you, Charlie,” Kor adds. “And that’s something you will have to learn to accept.”

  His words cut me in a way I didn’t realize myself capable, leaving me with nothing but my most basic instincts to rely on. “But you share them with Tirigan.”

  It isn’t a question. And yet, somehow, it kind of is.

  “The relationship Tirigan and I have is different, and it will always be different, than the relationship you and I have. That doesn’t mean I care for him more,” he says slowly, as if speaking to a child. “Your distrust in me is not completely without merit, but it’s affecting your view of our relationship.”

  When I look away, tears stinging my eyes, Kor reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look back.

  “I care for you, Charlie. I want you to be safe. I want to help you. You are a part of my family, just as Calla was long ago. Please understand that I will do whatever I can to bring her back to you. If you trust nothing else, trust that.”

  My tears swell to a treacherous degree. I don’t want to cry. It feels like more proof of my inferiority. I hold them back, squaring my shoulders and looking up at Kor with a determination I’m not sure I actually feel.

  “I do trust that,” I reply honestly. “But I don’t know if it’s enough.”

  “It’ll have to be,” Kor replies smoothly, kindly. “For now, at least.”

  Before I can respond, before I can even think of something to say, Kor’s head snaps to look in the direction our group walked off to, as if alerted to something.

  My gaze follows, but I’m not sure what I’m seeing. Our group has gone a considerable distance since Kor and I stopped to talk. I can make them out, but their size seems to have doubled. There’s more people with us now.

  “Who’s with them?” I ask aloud, expecting Kor to have the answer.

  “You’re Gyan,” is his only response. “Don’t fly.” And then his hand is weaving with mine, and we’re up in the air, Kor flying and pulling me along helplessly. It’s so fast, the tears that threatened me before stream out and mix with my wind-tousled hair.

  What I manage to see just before we land makes my heart pound and my mind work infinitely faster to remember all the Gyan battling casts. Everyone’s been paired up with a stranger, and all of my friends have weapons to their heads. Their Eidikós stones have been pulled from their bodies. The sun reflects brightly off of them in the sand. Tirigan’s mind is closed. I can’t reach him. No one moves. No one speaks. Kor slows his pace and then gently releases my hand to let me fall to the ground just a moment before he lands himself.

  The man holding a weapon to my brother’s head pulls it away the instant he sees Kor. The rest of the strangers do the same, and suddenly everyone’s free again.

  The breath I began to hold the moment Kor’s hand gripped my own releases in a relieved gush.

  “Apologies,” Kor says. “I was delayed.”

  The man who had just been threatening my brother’s life, glares at Kor. “Porter ítan sostó gia sas.”

  His accent is strong. Even if he were speaking my language, I doubt I’d understand him. When he registers the confusion on my face, the man rolls his eyes, and mutters something that sounds like, ‘breeders.’

  Then, the guard turns and walks towards the cliff face. When the rest of his group follow, some of them give Kor very curious glances along the way, but Kor only looks at us.

  “Well guys,” he says with a small smile. “Collect your things and follow them inside. We’re here.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  If I Be Waspish…

  We follow the group up to the cliff face, where we have to climb or fly to reach the compound’s entrance. The Aérasians fly, carrying those of us who don’t want to climb up to the landing. Tirigan chooses to fly instead of climb which confounds me. It’s another puzzle piece to this new version of my brother. When he puts out his hand and pulls me up with him, I’m tempted to cry out in frustration. I used to know every detail about my brother. I could calculate every choice he’d make and understand them. Now, I feel like I don’t know anything.

  Tirigan doesn’t ask why I don’t attempt to fly myself. He must’ve already figure it out. I can’t spare the brain power to consider what Cal will think about the switch.

  Once we’re on the landing near the top of the cliff face, the door to the compound, a large, circular, vault-looking contraption, makes a lot of noise and swings open. The group with the scary looking weapons steps inside first. Tirigan and I follow directly behind Kor, and the rest of our group follow behind us.

  The entrance hallway lights as we enter and widens slightly, just enough to be comfortable as it extends down into darkness. The cliff’s walls are damp, water collecting in droplets and trickling down to the floor where they puddle for only a moment before evaporating.

  We follow Kor blindly, trusting him to keep us safe as we travel further down the dimly lit hallway toward another door. The guards stop in front of it and wait, forcing us to do the same.

  I share a curious look with Tirigan, trying to put away all my misgivings about him for the moment, but he simply arches a brow. Then, a soft bell rings and the door slides open.

  It reveals a room large enough to hold all of us and at least a dozen more. We follow the strangers inside, and the door slides shut behind us. Before I can get too nervous about the lack of exit, the room begins to move. I feel it descending, my stomach dropping slightly as it does.

  Oleander throws me a reassuring smile. They do have elevators where you come from, do they not?

  Yeah, I’ve just never been in one before.

  You poor sheltered alien, he replies.

  I give him a playful shove, and Oleander slips our hands together, running his thumb over the back of mine. Despite the intimacy of the gesture and how I really should be more cautious about where our relationship is headed, I allow it. I need it.

  Oleander’s support, the comfort I find in his eyes, I need it now more than ever. With both Tirigan and Kor pushing me to my emotional limits, and our descent into who knows what, I’m going to need all the strength I can get.

  I feel eyes on me, as well as an undisguised irritation, that pulls my attention toward the front of the room. The man who spoke on the beach is staring at Oleander and I, his lips curled into an unkind smirk. He rolls his eyes when I give him a glare in return. He mouths the word ‘breeder’ again. Before I can respond, the room lurches to a stop and the door behind us opens.

  “Pigaíno,” someone from behind us says. Avias leads us forward.

  The hallway off of the elevator is much wider than the one at the entrance. It too lights as we move through it, then darkens as we move past.

  The light is enough to see what looks like a hundred Téssera lined up along the walls. They are young and old, many shades of black, brown, and white. They don’t move. They hold no weapons that I can see. They stand in the darkness. Waiting.

  I whisper back to Kor, “What are they doing?”

  “Initiates,” Kor responds. “They’ll be in trouble if you interact, Charlie. Eyes forward.”

  Oleander and I share a perplexed look, but neither of us says anything in response.

  “I know I look confident up here,” Avias says after a moment. “But I don’t actually know where I’m going. Is there going to be a direction at some point?”

  A voice from behind us answers roughly.

  “Walk to the end of the hall, turn left. Go into the first room on your right. They’re expecting you.” With that, the group behind us breaks off and exits through a different door, leaving us alone in the hallway with several dozen frozen initiates.

  We walk in silence. Whatever questions and fears all of us must be feeling go unsaid.

  When we reach the end of the hall, A
vias leads us left then stops in front of the door we were told to go through. He looks back at Kor, who moves through our rather substantial group to push to the front.

  “I guess I should let you do the honors,” Avias says.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Kor responds. He doesn’t pause before reaching for the door handle. He turns it, pushes it open immediately, and leads us inside.

  The diamond shaped room we enter instantly gives me the impression of being incarcerated. The walls are grey, without texture. The table that sits in the middle of the room is steel, cold, and unnerving. There are only two Téssera in attendance, a man with skin as black as night, eyes as blue as the sky, and a woman with hair redder than Calla’s and skin that’s fair and freckled. They both wear smiles that seem genuine, which I find hard to believe given our experiences thus far.

  “Welcome,” the woman says. “I’m Scoria. Please, have a seat.”

  She gestures towards the chairs placed around the long table. The man nods politely and steps aside, moving towards the far wall where I see another smaller table pushed against the wall. There’s a mirror against that wall, undoubtedly two-way. The long look the man gives it confirms my suspicions. Most of our group gives the mirror a hard look as they move around the table and find seats.

  “Actually,” Kor says, not moving to take a seat like the rest. “I could use the facilities. Long trip. Do you mind?”

  “Of course,” the man answers, gesturing towards the door we just entered through. “Continue to go right, and you’ll find your relief after several paces.”

  “Thank you,” Kor replies. Seeing that I haven’t chosen a seat like the rest of my friends, Kor gives me an encouraging nod. “It’s all right. You’re fine here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, they’re in good hands,” the man replies. “I’m Ilesh.” He reaches out to Kor, and Kor reciprocates, both men placing their palms together in greeting. “You are most welcome.”

  “Hasn’t really felt that way,” Bo says. “Could use some hospitality trainin’ I’d say.”