Father in the Forest, #1

by R. K. Gold

  Also by R.K. Gold

  Father in the Forest

  Father in the Forest (Coming Soon)

  Standalone

  Just Under the Sky

  Brinwood

  Lost in the Clouds

  Watch for more at R.K. Gold’s site.

  Father in the Forest

  RK Gold

  RK Gold

  Copyright © 2020 by RK Gold

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  To Aliza and Ayla I hope the world can be as beautiful as you

  * * *

  We still miss you Sharree

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  1

  She wanted to destroy him. Jaja tripped Yael on her way to the market with her spices and grabbed a handful of basil. His wild hair covered most of his face. Two big, brown eyes could barely be seen through the curls like bricks behind moss. He stared down at her with a toothy grin, clearly proud of himself. Even when he stole from her, it was all a game.

  "Come on, Yaya!" he called back to her as he took off down the stone road. Yael scrambled to her feet and chased the child, stomping each foot on the uneven street. Pebbles clacked ahead, scaring off mice scavenging for crumbs. Her hands were curled into fists, and her pulse quickened. The five red dots on the back of her right hand went bright against her lush sepia skin. If she didn't get everything back, what would Ms. White think? They were her spices after all, and it was her house Yael was lucky enough to be living in.

  The dirt road heading away from the market took a sharp left turn, and Jaja slowed down as the bell on the streetcar rang. His sandals slipped off, and he limped all the way to the white stone storefront. Hides hung in the back and leather straps draped over wooden displays in the front. Jaja hopped on one foot to the door when Jimo stepped outside with a skinning knife. He was a foot taller than Yael with broad shoulders, a square jaw, and deep russet-brown skin. Unlike his brother Jaja, his hair was shaved close to his head. Smoke plumed from the chimney, which usually meant their father, Marcel, worked on something for Toni.

  “Jaja!” He yanked his brother up by the wrist and pulled the basil leaves from his hands. A green six-sided die fell from his black leather jacket. The square buckles were undone, revealing his shirtless torso, and its tails along the waist draped over his thighs. For as long as Yael knew Jomi, he always had that jacket. It was nothing like the hooded ponchos and long robes that most of the people in Eselport wore.

  His glare lingered on the boy before softening his stare and turning to Yael. “So sorry about that.” He handed her the spices and let his brother’s arm go. Jaja stuck his tongue out and ran back inside as Yael lifted her round sunglasses to her forehead. The lenses were a vibrant orange and yellow like the early evening sky over their port. The rounded, mesh, metal sides covered her peripherals. Jomi was the only person to ever look her in the eyes. One red and the other white. Most people shifted their gaze to the ground the second she met their stare. Others would immediately mutter a prayer to the Mother for protection. After all, only she was supposed to have eyes like that.

  Yael sighed and adjusted the sacks weighing down on her shoulders. Sweat dripped down her hooked nose. They were having a good season, and once the government caught up on its payments to Ms. White, they would be able to pay off their debt and buy a cart. Unless Elias passed his exams and needed tuition in Wydser. Yael doubted Ms. White would say no to him; he was, after all, her only real child.

  “He’s just a kid; he would’ve returned it.” Jimo sheathed his knife and leaned against the doorway with his arms folded as the early summer breeze caressed them.

  “Maybe—or he would’ve thought stealing from me is the funniest joke on the planet and done it every day until I slapped him in the back of his big head!” She raised her voice as she spoke and glared at the second-story window. A mane of curly black hair poked through the opening then ducked down quickly.

  "Hey, careful! That's my brother you're talking about." Jimo stood a little straighter and moved his hands to his pockets. As the silence between them grew, he cracked a smile, and the space dissolved. His teeth were impeccably white and straight. "He does have a bit of a big head, though." He chuckled, and the laughter melted the pressure building in Yael's temples. Some brass music came from the shop, and Jimo turned around immediately. "Anytime he gets to the radio, I gotta go—stop by when you're done at the market!" He ran back into the shop before Yael could say goodbye.

  The crowds at the market grew denser by the day. Summer always brought visitors from the eastern and western continents. Yael turned down the stone road and slipped between the crowd. Men in smart black suits and top hats walked side by side down the walkways. They pointed inside shops and examined the wares of the tents in the road. The streetcar hummed as steam pumped from its roof. It followed the tracks down the middle of the road, taking its passengers to the docks before continuing to the factories.

  The corner bar blared brass music. Yael looked inside and saw men and women throwing back their hoods and taking off their summer ponchos to dance with one another in baggy shirts and slacks. Children laughed and ran inside. They held each other’s hands and bounced in a circle on the two and four beats. Exposed gears of wonky diagonal clocks lined the walls. A woman in a beige robe stood in front of her stand. She had her hood up and a cotton cloth covering her long nose and mouth. Thin metal links dangled around her neck. A single gear anchored the jewelry. She cranked the gears of a music box in her hand and held it out for the tourists to stop and examine; however, they were too preoccupied with the metal shop next door. Sparks flew as a mechanical bird shot through the air and crashed on the sidewalk.

  “Just working out the kinks,” a high-pitch voice reassured the crowd. The man was in a white tank top and wore a metal band around his head with five magnifying glasses layered on top of one another. His drill hummed, and a metal pick bounced on his lip as he spoke.

  Across the street, Big Toni’s shop was packed to the door. His windows had old maps, along with swords and rifles from previous wars across the three continents. A woman in a black round cap and brass aviator goggles stepped out. She looked like she could’ve been an airship pilot in her leather top with a curved shoulder spike.

  A man stood on the corner of Royal and Port Street, jingling a tin mug with two stones inside. He yelled at pedestrians. "The Mother's descent has begun! Soon, she will welcome us all into the sky!”

  Like most who grew up south of the Mother’s forest, Yael grew up with the Divine Three’s stories. The Mother in the sky met with her children, the earth, and the sea, every thousand years to reset the planet. They protected all its inhabitants, but the star of the Mother descended every year, inching closer to the world until she could finally touch the ground. It made the most beautiful sunset durin
g the solstice but never brought immortality to the world like Myths of the Mother suggested.

  Yael’s stand was on a narrow white stone street with traffic in front and behind her. The roads were lined with similar setups for goods, and the sidewalks allowed access to more permanent establishments. The most frequently visited were the taverns by the docks. Eselport wasn’t a large shipping town, but it was one of the most accessible ports to the continent. Previously under control by Emerlia and its strict trade policies, the coastal shores of Colodian now welcomed all trade from across the ocean.

  As Yael exchanged spices for Emerlia coins, two men in long coats grabbed each other by the collars of their undershirts. The larger of the two had a modified metallic arm with a pressure gauge under his collarbone. The steel shine broke at the elbow, wrist, and knuckles, offering flexibility to the wearer. Under his wrist was a hooked blade Yael assumed could rotate out from a spring trigger like the ones Marcel fiddled with when Toni wanted to modify merchandise.

  “I already told you I’m no spy!” The smaller man threw the first punch despite only coming up to his opponent’s chest. It looked like a branch fighting a tree. The larger of the two took the blow on the chin and stepped back momentarily. He rubbed the impact and looked to the sky like he was trying to remember something on a grocery list before unleashing a straight punch to the “spy’s” chest, knocking him off his feet.

  A few customers at various stands continued their transactions as if the scuffle were nothing more than a lost dog sniffing garbage while others hooted and cheered.

  “Toss him out!”

  “Send him ‘cross the river!”

  “Let’s see his precious king save ‘em now!”

  The large man delivered one final kick to his opponent’s gut and turned back towards the port. Yael felt her hands tingle. Her forehead felt warm, and her pulse pounded in her throat. She heard the news of skirmishes along the northern border. Still, Wydser kept insisting the violence was declining: “One day soon, our two nations will be able to live together in peace. We just have to be the first to offer it,” their president said over the radio.

  "She didn't serve, though, did she?” Elias said when they heard the address the previous night. He was immediately shushed by Ms. White and went back to his studies.

  The war had been over for eight years. Yael barely remembered the fighting, only the fathers and mothers coming home to hug their children. She was only four when the war ended, living in a home she long left. Children like Jaja never had to doubt what his father felt when he hugged him. All Yael knew about her parents was her mother died in childbirth. Every month, she was reminded that Ms. White's hospitality was paid for when the capital sent her guardian payment for fostering a child after the war. The Colodian government made it easy for Yael to figure out exactly how much Ms. White cared about her, down to the decimal. The other children never had to question how their parents felt, and the thought of being held by a parent who was paid by their child's affection made her stomach twist in knots. It was something she knew she would never experience, but she couldn't be upset about it. She was still lucky. Many children after the war were put in far worse situations than hers. Even Yael got bounced around until she was assigned to Ms. White four years after the war.

  She managed to clear most of her inventory for the day and packed up to return home as the sunset over the ocean. The airships docked in the port, and the evening travelers crowded the docks on their way to the bars. It was nearly dark by the time she reached the corner of Port and Royal. The white letters on the black sign glowed under the oil streetlamp. She saw the children tasked with opening the gas valve on each light, scurrying off to illuminate all the roads. The streetcar buzzed by. Its metal wheels clicked along the rail, and its steam rode the night sky like a cutout. Outside the Lamb’s shop were Jomi, Jaja, and the usual group of men gathered after the market closed, or at least the upper half of it. The inns and taverns were closer to the docks, so travelers didn’t have to go far to find what they were looking for.

  “Yael!” Jomi waved her over and lowered the volume on the radio. It was a round wooden box about Jaja’s shin’s height with two metal cylinders on each side and three dials on its face. On top of the box was a head-sized horn where music played. Jaja’s hand inched towards one of the dials, but he pulled back the second his big brother shot him a glare. “Yael!” He grinned. “Glad you could come.”

  She dropped what little remained in her mostly empty sacks and looked at the game. “Honestly, I’m just trying to make it home before Ms. White gets mad.” Stars painted the night sky like specks of paint on a dark canvas. The Mother’s light, the most massive star in the sky, began its annual descent. It stood out like a king’s crown in dry dirt.

  “Just one game?” Toni brushed his messy red hair out of his face. He pulled the pipe from his mouth and scooted over to make room in the circle for Yael. Toni used to work on the docks and in the warehouses. He had the chance to skim through all the possessions shipping in and out of the port and became friends with some “red flag” ships most traders would give their right arm for, and most law enforcement would give the same arm to catch. “They said they liked my pluck.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over an invisible coin. Toni would be the only man in town with a solid-gold pocket watch, but not a single hole-less pocket to leave it in. Yael thought it was why he got so into dice with Jomi’s father—it was easy to bet things you didn’t own.

  She shook her head and started to leave when she saw Jaja sitting on the ground with his knees under his chin and his arms wrapped around his shins. He watched the die shoot across the stones as the other four men matched bets.

  “Did he earn today?” Yael nodded to Jomi’s younger brother. Jaja inspected one of the dice and rolled it between his crossed legs.

  Jomi puffed up his chest. “He’s been training in the back with our dad. Getting the hang of it quick too. I was a little—”

  “Okay, I’ll play,” Yael said more to the circle than to Jomi as she crouched beside Toni and reached for the dice. “Put up,” she said to Jaja and tossed two dimewons in the middle. Toni and the others matched the bet. Jaja scrunched his nose then looked to his brother. He didn’t have that arrogant grin anymore. It was time to get him back for basil. “Come on, it’s your bet.” Two dimewons may have been a little steep for a first-timer. Ten of them made up an Emerlia crown. Ms. White was able to get by on only eight crowns a month, and half of them came directly from Wydser, the capital.

  “Come on, it’s his first day earning.” Jomi shook his head to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Here, I’ll spot ya.”

  “You drop a single note, and I walk. Your brother’s betting his wages.” She pointed at Jaja, who looked back to his brother. He bit his lower lip and rubbed his legs as he rocked back and forth.

  “You were having me bet when I was younger than him. He wants to earn, and he wants to hang out with you. About time he learns to play.” Yael shook the die in her palms and prepared to roll.

  “But I don’t even know how to play,” Jaja said more to his brother. He covered his nose with steepled hands.

  Yael rolled her eyes. “You’ve been sitting out here all night and haven’t paid attention to one game?”

  “Okay, easy now.” Jomi held up a hand to Yael. “She’s gonna shoot right, and you can either bet on or against her.”

  “Always bet against her, kid." Toni chuckled, and when Yael threw a glare his way, his grin only grew.

  “You do that, and a two, three, or twelve will win it for you.” Jomi tossed the die on the road, and they landed on a seven. “She hits this or an eleven, and she wins on the first roll.”

  “And only her since no one is stupid enough to bet on her.” Toni laughed again, and Yael grit her teeth.

  “But what happens if she doesn’t roll any of those?” Jaja brushed his hair behind his ears. His big, brown eyes went wide.

  “Hu
rry it up.” Yael circled a finger like she was winding a clock, counting down the time Jomi had left to explain to his brother.

  “If it’s a different number, then she has to roll that number again to win, but if she rolls a seven, she loses.”

  “And if she rolls anything else?” Jaja asked, but Yael took the die away from the two brothers.

  “Then, I keep rolling. Time to put up, kid.” She emphasized the kid, staring down at him until he became a puddle in the shadows

  Jaja dropped his chin to his chest and reached in his pocket. He pulled out four nickdems and an Emerlia crown. Yael reached across for the large silver coin until Jomi pinched her pinkie and pulled her hand aside. “He’ll match one dimewon.” Jomi tossed the four nickdems in the middle. “Handicap the bet.”

  Yael sucked her teeth, then conceded a nod and tossed the die.

  “Ha!” Toni slapped her back when a pair of snake eyes came up. “Told ya, never bet on her as the shooter.”

  Petey snorted when he grabbed his share of the earnings. He still had on his blue uniform from work. The oversized round hat he wore while driving the streetcar fell over his forehead as he echoed Toni’s laughter.

  Jaja howled as they all split up the pot. Yael watched him holding her money like the basil. “Again,” she said when Jaja went to stand.

  “Oh, come on, you had your fun. Go inside, Jaja.” Jomi said to his brother then looked back at Yael. “Why don’t you get her a fizzy pop.” He winked at his brother, who ran into the shop.