Father in the Forest, #1

by R. K. Gold

  “Yael?” a deep voice called out, and the glass observing her shattered. Jomi entered the sanctuary, and the two twins stepped behind Dean as he approached. “Did you find—” He paused to look at the four boys. “What you were looking for?” His eyes froze on Pace.

  “Almost.” Yael side-eyed the blonde boy in front. Jomi put down the box of goods he was carrying and cracked his knuckles.

  Pop! Pop!

  The twins flinched behind Dean, who waved at Jomi. "Nice to meet you!" His smile grew, and he held a ham-sized hand out for Jomi to take. He was the only one of the four boys to smile.

  Jomi looked down at the gesture then back at Pace, who folded his much skinnier arms. "Don't be rude," Pace said.

  “Rude? I just came into a place of worship to see four punks who look ready to rob my friend. Did they take anything from you?” he asked Yael, and his eyes fell to the nickdems on the ground.

  Only my chance to possibly find my family. She shook her head and scooped up the coins.

  “We were being polite. We swear.” Pace straightened his posture and held two fingers up like some sort of pledge.

  “Is that right? They were being polite?” Jomi’s voice didn’t hide his distrust.

  “We were just inviting her back to our workshop.” Dean kept his smile but pulled his hand back and rested it on his gut. His messy brown hair was pulled out of his face by a red headband. Mild acne poked out along his forehead and red cheeks.

  “Is that so?” Jomi looked back to Pace. “Just inviting her back to talk?”

  “You have a problem with me?” Pace stepped forward, and Jomi grinned, meeting him head on. He towered over Pace and dropped his chin to his chest to look straight down at his small challenger.

  “Say something, shorty?”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be looking up at me from your back soon.” Pace’s voice rose. He stood on his toes but still didn’t reach Jomi’s neck.

  “Big talk from such a small man.”

  “I’m still growing!” He waved a fist in Jomi’s face. The brief crack in his confidence was all Jomi needed.

  “Sure thing. My little brother is too. You’re only eight, right?" He swatted the hand away like it was nothing more than an insect.

  Pace’s nostrils flared. He closed both hands to fists and grunted. “Okay, tough guy. Let’s see if you can back up that mouth.”

  “Which of your friends are you gonna hide behind after I smack you? I assume him." He pointed to Dean, whose mouth contracted to an O.

  “Come on, guys. Now isn’t the time to fight.” Dean took on a calming voice and raised both hands as he stepped between the two boys. Jomi winked at Pace, who immediately launched with both arms outstretched. Dean caught his friend and held him back with ease as Pace thrashed the air.

  “Well done, little guy.” Jomi clapped. “Come on, I’m supposed to meet my dad at the market,” he said to Yael.

  “Wait, don’t you want to find the starborn?” Pace sliced free of Dean’s grip and adjusted his shirt. His face was red.

  He wasn’t wrong. Why else did Yael come to the city in the first place? She wasn’t there to help Jomi sell Marcel’s goods. But could she trust Pace? Obviously not, but the other boys didn’t seem so bad. Dean wouldn’t let Pace fight Jomi, so he had to have a decent head on his shoulders.

  “Yael,” Jomi interrupted her thoughts.

  “We can lead you to her,” Pace piped up a little louder.

  “Why don’t you stay out of this, tiny?”

  Pace charged Jomi, who braced himself for impact. A green die bounced out of his jacket pocket as Jomi managed to wrap two arms around the much smaller child. He lifted him off the ground with ease and was about to slam him when Dean ran over.

  Forced to act fast, Jomi tossed Pace aside like a bone he picked from his teeth and locked up with the much larger friend. He and Dean pressed their foreheads against one another and circled in place, neither relinquishing their grip on the other’s shoulder. Pace jumped on Jomi’s back, and the twins sensing a shift in momentum, went after his legs.

  Yael scooped the die up as the two boys continued to press. Things were so much easier when she left them to chance. She couldn't mess up if the universe decided her actions for her. All she ever did was make mistakes. The scars on her forearm were a constant reminder of that. Maybe it was best to let chance decide. She rolled the die in her hand, counting all the sides before dropping it on the ground. If it landed on an odd number, she would go. It felt like an evenly weighted risk. She had to find the girl with her eyes, and the four boys seemed to be looking for her too, but the way Pace eyed her made Yael wonder if he only saw her as a substitute. It all felt odd, so an odd number it would be.

  The four of them were about to take their singular opponent to the ground when Yael said, “I’ll go with you.” Both Jomi and Pace turned to her as she scooped the die up. Dean surrendered his hold, and the twins crawled back, not wanting to take on an opponent like Jomi alone.

  The three neutral characters in the sanctuary all watched the fight from under their hoods. A small crowd built up at the entrance. Yael blushed and looked away from the growing spotlight.

  “You can’t be serious,” Jomi said as Pace slipped his arm away.

  “All right, let’s get outta here, boys,” Pace said to the other three. Dean was already heading out while the twins bickered. Brody yanked a metal device out of his brother’s pocket, and Lewis tried to take it back.

  “I’m not gonna let you go with them,” Jomi whispered. He moved his hand around Yael’s wrist, and a part of her wished he picked her up and carried her away. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to go with them, and being forced out was a comfort she would've loved someone to bestow upon her.

  “Come on, Yael. Let’s get out of here. My dad’s waiting for us.”

  And there it was. Why Yael had to go. It was all about family. A family she never had—and one Jomi took for granted. He never had to doubt how his father felt about him and knew his brother loved him unconditionally. The three of them had each other, no matter how uncertain the rest of the world got.

  “I have to go,” Yael said, and Jomi’s grip loosened. Still, he didn’t let her go completely, and Yael met his eyes. Even behind her sunglasses, she could feel him genuinely seeing her. He was still the only one to do it.

  “We’ll be in the market until tomorrow if you change your mind.” He grabbed his things and walked away. As he reached the crowd at the arch, he looked back once more, and Yael prayed to the Three that it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other.

  10

  Yael sidestepped and ducked through the crowds while Pace and the twins didn’t have to change course at all. Dean walked at his full height, and others parted ways for him. Yael wished Jomi was there. It was difficult not to wonder if she had made a mistake not going with him as a large man in a bright-blue peacoat and gray flat-cap bumped into her. He moved on without so much as a word, and Yael momentarily couldn’t spot the four boys.

  “Dean!” she shouted when she saw his red headband just above the surface of the crowds.

  Every few steps, she had to slip between two or three people who wouldn’t budge, ducking under their arms or turning between their torsos. One couple stopped right in front of her to look inside a store and bumped Yael right on the nose. Neither looked down at her as they chuckled and walked across the street. She managed to keep Dean in her line of sight all the way to the outer rim of Wydser.

  The crowds congregated around a four-story stone building at the next corner. Dean walked up the steps and stood on the front patio. Men, women, town guards, and soldiers sat on the deck with food and drinks. Pace spoke with a man serving food then pointed back to Yael. He nodded and finished serving the table as they approached.

  "Come on," Pace said when they caught up. The smell of beef and fried vegetables made her mouth water, and her stomach rumble. The last thing she ate was stew and bread at the inn on the ride to Wy
dser.

  “You hungry?” Pace asked when he saw Yael’s eyes lingering on a plate piled high with potatoes. “Oy!” he snapped, and Lewis and Brody poked their heads out from behind Dean. Lewis’ cheeks were already full. “Grab a plate from the kitchen and bring it upstairs.”

  They walked through the dining room. It was dimly lit, with most of the light coming from the open windows in the front. Smoke escaped the slit to the kitchen. A low rumble of conversation filled the air. The walls were stone and lined with gas lanterns. The tables could seat six at a time with three to a bench, and the walls had booths.

  They took the stairs up to the fourth floor and walked down the narrow hall. Its walls were gray, and only two of the four lights were on. Dean had to walk sideways and hunched his back, while Pace took the lead. Unlike the other halls, Yael caught a glimpse of on their way up, the fourth floor only had three doors, none of which were open or gave any indication they were guest rooms. One had the words WASH written in black letters across the wooden door, and the other spelled out DO NOT ENTER in red letters.

  They reached the end of the hall, and the moment they opened the door, they entered a dark-blue room. The color levitated in the air like a morning mist and clung to the fleeting light piercing through the round windows. The walls and ceiling were sprinkled with glowing white lights, and a large white sphere hovered over the furthest window, which sat open to allow a breeze to enter. Dean took a lap of the room, turning the gas knobs at the bottom of each lamp until all five were lit, as Pace picked up scrap metal and tools from the floor.

  “Lewis needs to watch where he leaves his things.” He waved a hammer and tossed it on a half-folded sleeping bag in the corner. The twins walked in soon after with a plate for Yael.

  She spun in place, looking for a place to sit, and found a chair next to a desk covered in papers. She noticed the white sphere and asked, “So, what you got going on over there?”

  The books resting on the seat wobbled and fell to the floor. Pace’s shoulders went tense.

  "Try not to touch anything," he said, and though he tried to sound polite, Yael could tell it was more than a request.

  She looked around the room. The bed was unmade, and sheets were tossed across the floor. Plates were flipped upside down, and tools sprawled in every direction. Dean sat in a broken chair, inspecting a coil that looked like it belonged in the inside-out metal suit standing in the corner.

  Pace looked back at the object Yael pointed to. “Just something Armstrong was working on. Dropped it by a couple months ago.” He shrugged.

  Pace made an undecipherable sound and ran his hand over his lips. Yael's ears perked up. What kind of child was he to casually mention the colonel like that, and why was Armstrong dropping anything off with him?

  “Is it a secret?” Yael whispered.

  “No, nothing like that. Just thought you might be more interested in looking for the starborn. I’ve been tracking her for two years and can tell you what she’s usually up to after making an offering here.” He tossed the scroll on the dresser and looked back to Yael. She carefully balanced her food on the sliver of free space available on the desk and looked at the map. She couldn’t make out what the dots and distances meant.

  “Though today was the closest we ever got to catching her,” Dean added. He grinned so wide, his eyes closed. Yael couldn’t tell if he was trying to stifle a laugh.

  “It’s never gonna happen.” Lewis collected the remaining tools on the floor and dropped to his hands and knees to look for his hammer.

  “Shut up, we so will!” Brody elbowed his twin brother, causing him to drop a copper sheet.

  “Hey, no more fighting. Either of you.” Dean leaned forward and wagged a sausage-sized finger in their faces. They sat back with their heads down like puppies being told not to pee in the house for the hundredth time. Dean even rubbed the tops of their heads.

  “She hits up the major cities before returning to the forest every month, making sure she leaves an offering at every shrine to the Mother.” Pace bit his lip and looked out the window, then back to Yael. “If she follows her usual pattern, she’ll be back in the forest in two weeks.”

  “By the solstice,” Yael replied. Pace nodded and looked back at the white sphere hovering over his head. “Once she’s in there, it’ll be impossible to get her, but we might be able to cut her off at Doe. Last month, she spent two whole days there.”

  Yael’s back tightened. It was the second time Pace mentioned a town Emerlia erased from existence. The atmosphere in the room cooled. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

  Yael hesitated. He was already half out the window with his hands gripping the frame while Lewis had gotten back to work, aligning square corners and inspecting scraps of waste under a magnifying glass.

  “Nervous?”

  “No—no, nothing like that," Yael said though nothing could be further from the truth. Something about Dean reminded Yael of Jomi, and if he couldn't be there to protect her, she thought maybe he could. “Just hungry.”

  “Then grab your plate and come up with me.” He hopped through the window and stood on the wooden ledge. Yael poked her head out. The ramp was wide enough for one person to go up at a time, and its guardrails were as thin as Pace’s wrists.

  Yael grabbed her plate, and Pace held his hand out for her to take. Lewis was hammering away, while Dean flipped through the pages of a black book, and Brody curled up in a ball on the sleeping bag.

  Yael took his hand and climbed through the window. "What's up there?"

  “A gorgeous view,” he replied.

  “What about the starborn though?”

  “What about the stars themselves?” he replied.

  She wanted to know more about the girl, and if it was even possible, they were related. They said she was born from starlight. Yael knew that wasn't her life. She knew all too well her mother died giving birth to her and never met her father. For all she knew, he died in the war. She took his hand and stepped out on the balcony.

  11

  There was a telescope on the roof. Yael’s boots crunched over the gravel as she made her way across the uneven ground. Four potted plants surrounded two chairs and a bench. A low red wall that came up to Yael’s shins framed the perimeter. Pace approached the telescope and looked through the lens. “I’ve watched the last two solstices from this spot,” he said.

  “Is that how long you’ve been living here?” Yael asked, not wanting to bring Lansing up again unless he did. She still couldn’t believe there was an actual survivor.

  “On and off for the last five years.” He sat in one of the wooden chairs and pulled a fizzy pop from under the seat. Yael licked her lips. The sight sent her back home, sitting on Port Street. With Jomi fighting off the heat with a cold lemon drink. She wished he were with them now.

  "Armstrong's brother owns the place. Let me live here, rent free. But the colonel started looking out for me much sooner,” Pace continued.

  There was that name again. First, the colonel dropped off gifts for him, now the colonel's brother let him live in his inn for free. She figured he had a bit of money from the way he dressed. She had only seen airship crews wear jackets like his, but to be that close to the hero of the Twin Rivers—he'd never know hunger. He certainly wouldn't know what it was like to wait for a monthly payment from the capital to afford food and pay off a house. From the way he hunched over and rubbed his arms, Yael got the feeling he didn't want to talk about Armstrong, so instead, she picked at the second half of her plate.

  She heard the bustle from the street below, compared to the calm of the city's inner rings. It didn't have the music of Eselport or the citrus smells of the south. When she closed her eyes, she couldn’t feel the ocean breeze or hear the humming of airships docking. Eselport felt like an outstretched hand extending her reach to the rest of the world. Everything about the capital felt like a closed fist down to the smell of sweat that lingered in the air. She could see the archway she passed earl
ier to reach the sanctuary and the university further along the road towards the castle.

  “I’m sorry—about today,” Pace said. His finger tapped the mouth of his drink, and his eyes locked on Yael.

  “Thank you,” Yael whispered.

  “How’d you hear about her?”

  “Jomi, he told me he heard rumors about someone with similar eyes to me in the capital. Didn’t know it meant she was a starborn.” Yael adjusted her sunglasses. “I just thought maybe she was—” Her thoughts trailed, but Pace didn't butt in. She lingered on the idea of how close she was to getting answers. How she and the starborn locked eyes, and until Pace showed up, she looked ready to talk. "I thought she could know about my family."

  “Or be a part of it?”

  Yael took a bite of bread. It was silly to think something like that, and even more stupid to say it aloud. “You said it yourself, she wasn’t born. She was made by the Mother’s light.”

  “We could be wrong.” He didn’t sound convincing, but Yael appreciated his effort to keep her dreams alive.

  “Do you really think you are?” She looked up at him, knowing the answer before he replied.

  "I didn't always believe in the Three. My family wasn't religious at all growing up, and when I first came to Wydser, I avoided the priests. It was better to live in a world without the Mother than to live in one where she abandoned us.” He sipped his drink and looked out at the late early evening light. “I don’t remember much from Lansing. Only the forest and the smell of fresh bread. I think that’s my most vivid memory.” He sighed. “Kinda pathetic, right? To know your parents had to be right there with you, but your only memory is how good the bread smelled.”

  “I don’t think that’s pathetic at all. How old were you?”

  He shrugged. “Two, I guess, but it’s not like I remember. Armstrong told me he remembered the baker well. She used to give my parents her day-old loaves for free when they first had me. I guess she was the talk of the town because she was so interested in the forest. Even had a little shrine for the tree in her yard that Armstrong swears protected him when he was at Twin Rivers. I’m sure it’s a dream, but it feels so real. I remember seeing patches of these bright purple flowers all over the place. The kinda flowers that actually became more vibrant after you plucked them.”