by Alicia Fabel
Vera’s heart flew to her throat as Octopus-Lord-of-the-Dead lifted her for closer inspection, turning her every-which-way.
He inhaled. “I’ve not smelled magic like this before, and yet I have. She smells similar to you, Kalesius. But different.”
“She has been my charge for a while,” Kale said by way of explanation.
“No. That’s not it. This one used to be a siphon too.”
Oh crap. The people around the room hissed. There was only a handful of them, but that would be plenty to fill Vera’s nightmares in the coming months. Kale took a step forward.
“Also like you, she’s no longer siphon,” continued Kanaloa. “She’s been modified. I’d love to find out how.”
“She’s not for sale,” Kale replied.
For sale?
“Everything is for sale,” said Kanaloa.
“Not her,” Kale said flatly.
Kanaloa’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Like I told Aiaru, I’d give her up if I could, but the meadow has bound her to me,” he lied easily. “I am not able to sell her. Not yet anyway.”
“When you’ve been released as her protector, perhaps.” Kanaloa sniffed Vera one more time then stood her on her feet beside Kale. “If she is not how you plan to pay your way out of Po, what do you have to offer for passage?”
“The pet can speak,” piped in Aiaru. “Perhaps she can offer payment.”
“Speak,” commanded Octo-dude.
Kale’s jaw jumped, but he gave a slight nod for Vera to go ahead.
“What am I supposed to say?” asked Vera.
Kanaloa’s tentacles stilled. “It is a lovely voice.”
“I thought you would like it.” Aiaru beamed.
“I will grant you passage for it,” offered Kanaloa.
“Her voice is not for sale either,” replied Kale. “But I do have this.” He pulled Vera’s charm from his pocket. Only the good-luck charm, though. He’d had it all along.
“He can’t have that,” argued Vera.
Kanaloa’s eyes glinted, his interest obviously piqued by her distress. “It is important to you?”
Vera hesitated. It didn’t seem wise to give the man that kind of leverage. It seemed even less wise to lie. “Yes.”
“How important?”
“My friend made it for me,” said Vera.
“And then he died for her,” added Kale.
Vera’s heart stopped mid-beat.
“Have you no other way to remember this dead friend? Any other trinkets from him?” asked Octo-jerk.
“No.”
Kanaloa snatched the charm and examined it, which meant more smelling. “It has magic. Your friend was in love with you.”
Alalana gasped from the corner of the room.
“Did you love him back?” Kanaloa asked.
“Yes.”
“But not in the way that he loved you,” Kanaloa concluded.
“No.” Vera couldn’t help but feel guilty for that, but she simply hadn’t felt the same way as Gage had.
The charm disappeared into a tentacle. “I offer you passage from here in exchange for the charm.”
“We accept,” Kale said.
Vera was crushed, but what could she do? They needed out of there more than she needed a good-luck charm. At the end of the table, a woman giggled. She was hunched over a goblet of something, her stringy hair falling around her like a veil. She whispered something into the cup, which Vera couldn’t hear. Kale stepped in front of Vera like a shield. Well, that can’t be good.
Just then, a door along the wall slung open. The knobby butchers entered, carrying a platter of raw meat. Vera had no doubt where it had come from. A little hysterically, she wondered, if pig is called pork and cow is beef, what is people meat called? Trailing behind them, another knobby carried a sloshing pitcher of shadow. As they slid the tray onto the table, the surface around the platter shimmered. Suddenly, the table was covered with a multitude of dishes to accompany the meat. There were platters piled high with all manner of fruits, covered dishes of who-knows-what, and various other similarly steaming bowls.
“Feast with us?” asked Lono. The others in the room were already pulling up chairs and stools. “Kae made eyes and kava.”
Vera thought she’d misunderstood until the man skewered an eyeball and waved it enticingly.
“My charge and I must get back to the meadow,” Kale declined.
“But what shall you pay?” rasped the woman from beneath her curtain of hair.
“We have already paid for passage,” said Kale.
“You paid for one passage. But there are two of you.”
Kale froze before turning to look at Kanaloa, who watched the woman with disconcerting curiosity. “Our deal was for both of us,” Kale said.
“He never specified two passages,” lisped a voice. Vera had no idea where it came from until the woman sat up straight. Her hair swung back to reveal a head. A head with no body—no body and no lips. Still, it managed to grin vulgarly at Vera. “He never said two.”
The woman and the head giggled together. She hadn’t been whispering into her goblet. She’d been whispering to that.
“Kukulau and Ulupoka are right,” said Kanaloa. “Kalesius, you paid for your passage, but your pet has not yet paid for hers.”
“That charm was hers,” argued Kale.
“And you paid with it,” said Kanaloa.
You greasy slimeball. “I don’t have anything else,” said Vera.
“Not true,” sang the head. Spittle sprayed the table.
“Kalesius paid for his passage with something of his pet’s. Perhaps the girl should pay with something of Kalesius’s,” suggested Aiaru. Vera had not missed Alalana whispering in her ear a moment before.
“Or your pet could stay here with me until you return with something I want,” suggested Octo-creep.
“She comes with me,” Kale replied, leaving no room for debate.
“Perhaps since Kale bought his passage with an object given to the girl out of love, the girl can offer an object given to the Guardian out of love,” Aiaru said as she peeled a banana.
Kanaloa whooped at that. “Yes. That is my fee. The girl must offer me something given to Kalesius from one who loved him.” The man sat back smugly. “Have you found love in the time since your family was sent to me, Kalesius? And do you have a token of that love?”
“All I have are the clothes on my back, but I offer my oath that I will bring your payment.”
“Boo,” said the head, named Ulupoka. “Payment now or the girl stays.”
“Perhaps the girl can offer the use of her body,” said the skeezy woman.
Kanaloa looked Vera over in a way that said he would not be opposed to that idea.
“Or,” said Alalana softly and all heads turned toward her. “Let the girl sacrifice her love.”
“Do tell,” said Kanaloa with interest.
Dread built in Vera’s gut.
“She allowed Kalesius to give up a token given to her out of love. And offered only pathetic resistance because she did not love the giver of that token the way he loved her. Perhaps she should never feel that kind of love.”
“Would you give up your love as payment?” asked Lono. Food dangled seemingly forgotten from his fingers.
“I’d never fall in love?” Vera’s heart fluttered like a butterfly’s wing.
“No,” said Kale firmly on her behalf. “Pick something else.”
“I already have,” Kanaloa retorted. “She pays with a token given to you, from someone who loved you. Or she pays with her own love. If she cannot pay, she stays here.”
Vera hadn’t spent a lot of time dreaming of princes and falling in love. She’d always been too busy trying to make it through another day. But she’d always assumed it would happen at some point. Now that she was about to lose that possibility, she realized she wanted it. It felt like someone was ripping a chapter from her life. A hole yawned inside her chest. Her siphon
uncurled in response.
Vera shoved the monster down and threw a shroud over the new hole. Who knew if she’d find love anyway? It wasn’t a guarantee. If she didn’t get out of Po now, she knew there was a hundred-percent chance she would lose herself in this place, though.
“You can have my love,” Vera said.
“No, Vera.” Kale moved toward her as if he could stop what was happening.
“I accept,” said Kanaloa.
Alalana rose from her stool and moved to stand in front of Vera. She pressed her hand to Vera’s chest. A pulse nearly knocked Vera off her feet. When the woman pulled her hand away, she held it cupped, cradling a black mass.
“What is that?” Vera asked, already knowing the answer.
“The oldest magic in the world,” said Alalana.
“You can hold love?”
“I can. I am made of love.”
Vera had a hard time believing that someone who claimed to be made of love could be capable of taking it away. Then again, it was getting Vera safe passage topside. A knobby came forward with a jar. Alalana poured Vera’s love into it and put a lid on it before handing it to Kanaloa. A squeal filled the air as a tiny pink bird flew into the room and landed on Alalana’s shoulder. It continued squealing like a pig. Probably because it was a pig—a flying one. Vera gaped. Alalana cooed to the creature until it settled.
“I must go,” said Alalana. “There’s something that requires my attention. May luck be with you in your travels.”
And then she was gone. No poof or swirls, just gone.
“The party pooper’s finally gone,” cheered the head.
“We will be leaving now too,” said Kale.
“How?” asked Kukulau.
By now, Vera knew it was not a good sign when the bitch opened her mouth to ask questions.
“Kukulau, you and Ulupoka have cost us enough with your games. We have a deal.”
Kukulau pouted. “I was only going to point out that your pet might not be strong enough to swim with the gora-aku, so perhaps you should take the aku-aku stream out.”
Kale’s hands clenched into fists when Kanaloa grinned. “She has a point.”
“You offered us safe passage,” growled Kale, finally losing his cool facade.
“You are safe—from us.” Kukulau said.
“My charge would not survive the stream,” Kale protested.
“Perhaps you should leave her here where she’d be safe, then,” said Ulupoka. “That way, you’d be fulfilling your duty to her.”
“Maybe Kalesius is correct, and we have had enough amusement for one day?” Lono suggested. When Kanaloa glared, he added, “Of course, it is your celebration day.”
“Let’s just go,” said Vera. “Right now, I could hold my breath forever if it would get me out of here.”
“If you die, you’ll return here to fill their dinner table,” said Kale.
“Too bad you couldn’t give your pet a little of your magic healing power,” said Aiaru.
Kale looked at Vera and raised a brow. “I can’t give you the meadow’s magic, but you can take some.”
Except that would make her siphon stronger, she wanted to point out.
Kale saw her hesitation and said quietly, “We won’t let your siphon overwhelm you before you have a chance to wake your other half.”
She wanted to protest, but what choice did she have? I can stay here or throw a siphon hail-mary.
Hail Mary it was.
Vera nudged her siphon, preparing to pull it back if needed. At the same time, she looked for the meadow’s magic inside Kale. She’d never looked before because seeking out the very thing she was fighting an addiction to seemed like a bad idea. Inside Kale was a well, just like her, just like every magical being. For siphons, that well was empty and hungry, a void wanting to be filled. Vera’s well now housed a world-thread, crunched up at the bottom, but it was still mostly empty. Kale’s was filled with the same angry red magic she’d tasted from Ferrox, but there was something else too, something foul. That was how Siphon Masters made unnaturals. They filled the wells of siphons with the life force of another creature, sealing the bond with the life force of innocence.
Vera looked past Kale’s void. She did not want to siphon the unnatural magic. Running through Kale’s spine was a thick cord of sunset-pink. It extended past him and disappeared through the ceiling of the cavern, like he was a living marionette. If she followed the magic, she knew it would lead to the meadow.
“Take it,” said Kale when she still hadn’t moved.
“Make sure I stop,” she told him as she urged the meadow’s magic to come. It resisted. Vera pulled harder, until the tendons in Kale’s neck stood out. “I’m hurting you.”
“Keep going,” he said. “I’m okay.”
The room watched silently. Each second that passed, Kanaloa’s smile grew. Vera focused on the cord, carefully separating a tiny thread from the rest. It stretched toward her before snapping back. Sweat coated both their brows. The more she pulled, the harder it fought. Finally, she released the magic and forced back frustrated tears. She couldn’t siphon that magic. The unnatural mist inside Kale pressed forward eagerly, but Vera ignored it.
“Here,” said Lono. “Have a drink. Maybe it will help.” He handed Vera a goblet.
Her mouth was dry, but honestly, she just hoped it held something that would deaden her mind to what was to come. No way was she leaving that place. She lifted the goblet to her lips before Kale called out to stop her. As soon as it touched her tongue, Vera’s mouth watered. Her siphon reared up demanding more. It wasn’t liquid she drank. It was shadow. The same shadow the knobbys had stripped from the corpse. It turned out, that shadow was magic, and her siphon loved it.
“Brother,” roared Kanaloa. “What have you done?”
“Whoops.” Lono winked for only Vera to see. “I mixed up the goblets it seems. That’s my mana, not your wine.” He shot a hand out and shoved Vera backward into the stream of aku-aku. Kale went in after her.
Vera struggled as the hands grabbed at her, tugging her down. Kale curled around her, holding her close and letting the stream carry them away. Other than being grabby, the aku-aku didn’t hurt her. Soon, they flowed underground, where there was no chance to surface for a breath. Vera panicked, eyes flying open. Kale took her hands and wrapped them around his neck, coaxing her legs around him too—spider monkey position. In the light of the stream, Vera noticed that where the aku-aku touched him, cuts and bruises appeared. Pink streaks ran across his skin, healing the injuries as they happened. Her siphon watched the magic hungrily.
Vera looked at her arms. Nothing. Not a scratch. The aku-aku’s touch was like feathers against her skin. Kale’s chest heaved. He was out of air. Soon she would be too, but she must have taken a deeper breath than him because she still felt okay. Kale went limp. His mouth fell open, and water rushed in. Vera screamed. Bubbles cascaded from her mouth as she lost precious oxygen. Only she didn’t. Vera waited for the urge to breathe, but it never came. Instead, she held tight to Kale’s limp body as the stream carried them on and on.
7
Kale coughed, purging water from his lungs. Vera knelt above him, fear in her eyes.
“You made it,” he said.
“Thanks to Alalana.” Vera pointed at the woman standing nearby, leaning on a staff topped with a carved eel. “She pulled us out before we went over that waterfall over there.”
Kale climbed to his feet to put himself between the trickster and Vera, still spitting up water. “What do you want?”
“I thought you’d be grateful,” said Alalana.
“Go to gora,” he replied.
“Kale, she got us out of there,” Vera reminded.
“She took from you what she had no right to take.” Kale fixed a withering look on Alalana.
“There was nothing else I could give,” Vera pointed out. “At least I’m not trapped down there.”
“They could’ve taken nothing,” Kale sai
d.
The woman’s patient demeanor faded. “Kanaloa never would’ve let her go for nothing. I could’ve stood by and let him take more, let him destroy her, but I didn’t. What I did was a mercy.”
“Are you here to demand something more for your so-called mercy?” asked Kale.
“No, I’m here to inform you that my debt to your family will be fulfilled after today.”
“What debt? And what exactly did you give me to consider it paid?” asked Kale.
“More than you deserve,” answered Alalana.
“You’re really from Lumeria?” Vera asked Kale, looking around with increased interest. Her eyes gleamed. He was sure she was trying to hold herself together, so he went along.
“I was born on a tiny island in the middle of the sea. The Tempestarii still found us, though. They killed my father for what he was—a demas. They killed my mother for letting a demas soil her. And they killed my brother for being a half-breed—a demas who looked like one of them. I got to live because I was just a siphon boy who could be sold for a few coins.” Kale sneered at Alalana. “If you owed my family a debt, you could’ve saved them. But the Ao can’t be bothered by the lives of a few mortals, can they?”
“I was not permitted to interfere then,” Alalana said simply.
“Not permitted? By who? The Cloud Children don’t answer to anyone.”
“By your mother,” replied Alalana. “Some plans have been in motion for thousands of years. Your mother sacrificed herself and her family so you would see this day.”
Kale reared back like he’d been punched. “You lie.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Vera assured.
“Now I must get you back to the meadow before you get pulled underground again. Kanaloa is not happy about his twin’s little trick back there. He is coming for her.”
Alalana struck the ground with the end of her staff, lodging it into the soil. With deft fingers, she wound a ribbon from her hair around and around the staff. Then with a flick, she pulled the ribbon, and the staff spun like a top. As it spun, the air around Kale and Vera turned hazy. It crackled with static, and then they were falling through the sky toward the ocean. Vera screamed and clawed at the air. Before they splashed into the water, Vera and Kale crossed through the world-gate, which was suspended in the air over the Marakihau’s hunting water. They tumbled into the borderland where Ferrox paced.
