Racing the Dark

by Alaya Dawn Johnson

  "My mother ... to save my mother." She started coughing-it was getting very hard for her to breathe. To her surprise the man wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her.

  "Leave her alone," he said in a voice as imperious as an oldstyle king.

  The death laughed. "She is mine, she made the sacrifice. Who are you to deny me? The would-be guardian who rejected his heritage?"

  The muscles in his throat tightened. "My father has chosen death. I will return to the shrine. I claim this girl as the right of the water guardian. You can't take her from me."

  "Yes I can. While she is still here, I can. You have to bind me."

  The man's eyes looked like windows into the water of a deep-sea trench. He reached up to right side of his face where a blue feather had been braided into his hair. He touched the feather, which began to glow with palpable, alien power. She realized he must be invoking a sacrifice for a geas.

  "As death always stands on the wrong side of the gate, so you will always stand on the wrong side of mine. Death and water have always been opposed-so long as this girl stays with me, you cannot touch her."

  The death's robes faded away until it was merely a mask and a swinging key, floating disembodied above the grass. The man nodded and then put his other arm under her legs and picked her up. She closed her eyes, but she still felt the stares of people as he walked back through the courtyard.

  "What's your name?" he asked her, as though there was no one else listening.

  "Lana," she said. It had been a long time since someone had used her diminutive. "Yours?"

  "Kaleakai," he said. "But most just call me Kai."

  He had known she wasn't a hunchback just from the feel of her shoulders, but as he carried her through the silent, gawking crowd of servers and guests, he wondered exactly what her large cloak was hiding. She was definitely wounded-blood dripped steadily from underneath her pants leg onto the ground, and she looked like she had passed out in his arms. Her mouth had gone slack and her expressive eyes were closed. Every time he looked at her he felt a jolt that nearly destroyed his composure. She was dirty and she smelled, but he thought that he had never seen a more oddly compelling woman in his life. Her accent was of the outer islands, and for once the reminder of home wasn't unpleasant. She must have been a diver, one of the last of her kind. The red jewel that hung from her neck on a cord of riverweed was incalculably rare.

  The innkeeper who had opened the gate seemed to break out of her stupor and ran in front of him.

  "Your honor, I assure you, if you wish it, that we can accommodate this girl for the night, but surely you don't plan to ..." she seemed to have a distaste for even uttering the words.

  "See to it that the tub is filled in my bathing room. I'll also need several buckets of extra hot water and some bandages. Just knock and leave it in front of the door. There's no need to come in."

  The woman looked absolutely paralyzed with shock for one moment and then nodded her head jerkily. She had been careful to give him the most sumptuous rooms at the inn-even though he was an unconventional guest, he was still an important one. His rooms were located off the main building and included his own personal garden, complete with a miniature waterfall and carefully cultivated lilies. It couldn't compare with anything back at the water shrine, but it did make him feel more at home than anything else had on his journey. He slid the door to his rooms open awkwardly with his foot and then closed it after he set Lana down on the bed.

  She groaned when he did that and rolled over on her stomach, still apparently unconscious. Unsure of what else to do, he pulled off her cloak.

  Blood. And black wings.

  He had saved a black angel.

  Lana came to on her stomach in a bathtub, with someone washing the blood off her back with achingly slow gentleness. She wondered, idly, who it could be and then remembered the strange man with the eyes that looked like the ocean: Kai. She was in the same room with the water guardian. She opened her eyes and realized that she was naked, and then realized that this fact didn't bother her nearly as much as it should have.

  "You're awake," he said. His smile made her want to melt into the water. "I've washed off your back, but if you're not too exhausted, perhaps you should do the rest."

  Lana nodded and took the sponge from him. Before she could even thank him, he pushed the soap and the buckets of water closer to her and closed the door discreetly behind him. Pain and the added encumbrance of the wings-draped awkwardly outside of the tub-made her take much longer than usual, but eventually she had scrubbed every part of her body pink and her hair until it couldn't possibly smell anymore. She wondered why he hadn't said anything yet about the wings. He must have had some reaction-probably disgust and revulsion that he was too kind to let show. A few minutes later he knocked gently on the door and she told him to come in. He covered her with a towel and then carried her into his room-a spacious suite with a raised bed and a veritable feast laid out on a table by the door.

  He laid her stomach down on the bed and took out some bandages and balm. She held the sheets tightly as he wrapped them around her back, gritting her teeth against the pain. Her new flying muscles burned as well, but the gentle pressure of his hands seemed to ease their tension.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked when he had almost finished.

  "Because you need help." His eyes had gone opaque-blue again, beautiful enough to drown in.

  "Do you help everyone who needs it, then?" she said.

  He looked away and she could tell that her words had hit a nerve. "No," he said finally, sadly. "I don't suppose I do. But I thought, perhaps I could atone for it by helping you. I might be the only one who can." "

  Lana sighed and paused for a moment to enjoy the feel of his hands on her back. "You know what I am, don't you? You know what it means?"

  I know. I don't care. I saved you because I wanted to. Now here, you should eat something."

  He forced her to eat half a bowl of thin rice-and-lentil soup before he let her go to sleep.

  "I will sleep on the floor," he said. "I have a sleeping mat."

  But his presence-and his unmistakable sense of contained power-comforted her. And she had been alone for so long. "No," she said. "Sleep here, with me. I want you to."

  He hesitated, but in the end he did so, cradling her hand carefully within his.

  She awoke the next morning with a fever that made her skin feel like burning rice paper and her throat painfully thick with mucus. She spent a few panicked moments wondering what on earth was wrong with her back before her memories returned to her. She sighed and curled into a fetal position, wondering where she could go now. How long could she rely on Kai's kindness, after all?

  With a monumental exertion of will, she forced herself to sit up, and then nearly collapsed again with dizziness. When the world stabilized, she looked around and saw a basket filled with bloody bandages on the floor. He must have changed them while she was sleeping, but looking around she saw no signs of the man himself. She thought about getting up, but decided against it-she didn't feel quite capable of walking from the bed to the sliding door, let alone searching for him outside. Besides, she couldn't seem to find the blanket that she had been using as a cloak. Kai had probably taken it along with her filthy clothes, although perhaps he had done so to make sure she didn't leave his rooms. They both knew that if she were to go outside with the wings in full view she would probably get stoned to death, with him powerless to stop it.

  Lana sighed and cast around for some water, which she found in a delicate glass cup beside the bed. She took a few tentative, painful sips before putting it down. Beside the water she noticed a pair of exquisitely woven dark blue pants, with intricate yellow embroidery all along the bottom and up the sides. She wondered how Kai had managed to find something so fine out in this remote part of the island, but then reminded herself that he was, after all, the water guardian.

  Very carefully-because her back felt taut, as though the slightest over
exertion might rip it open again-she pulled on the pants and tied the drawstring. She didn't see a shirt, but of course how could she expect to wear a normal shirt with the wings? The pounding of her head and the blood rushing past her ears made Lana want to vomit. She lowered her head between her knees and thought about how relaxed she had felt last night, sleeping in the bed of a man who was essentially a stranger. For now, at least, she was entirely at his mercy-and yet she didn't feel afraid. The only other person she had ever met with such power and effortless control was Akua. Here, with Kai, she felt a little less like she was on the verge of drowning every moment. Though she had never sought out someone to take care of her, she didn't think she'd mind it if he did. Perhaps it was because of the way his eyes turned into a rippling, iris-less ocean at the sight of her, so gentle and so inexpressibly sad.

  Her stomach heaved violently and she fell halfway out of the bed, barely reaching the bucket before she vomited what looked like the entire meager contents of her stomach. She panted for a few moments, desperately sucking air into her lungs before her stomach began heaving again. This time there was nothing to come up, only a series of incrementally more painful dry heaves. Tears started streaming from her eyes and she realized that she couldn't stop them, no matter how hard she tried. She didn't know what she had expected from the wind spirit, but certainly not what it had given her. She felt as though the remaining fragile core of her sanity had been shattered, and she had no idea of how to put anything together again. How much longer could she survive like this? All that awaited her was a slow and painful death.

  She heard the sound of the sliding door opening and Kai's soft footsteps entering the room. Lana's tears redoubled and she became painfully aware of the mucus running from her nose. Kai knelt next to her and put his arm over her shaking shoulders. He handed her a handkerchief, which she took gratefully, and blew her nose. Another dry heave shook her and she gagged over the bucket.

  "I didn't know you had woken up. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," he said.

  "It's okay," Lana said, leaning against him gratefully.

  He seemed worried but helpless, like a man left alone with a baby he has no idea how to care for. "It's a day's ride by horse, but maybe I should send someone for a doctor in the city. You look so sick ..."

  Lana shook her head. She distrusted doctors' methods-some were sound, but all too often they practiced quackery that made their patients sicker than before. "I just need some herbs ... see if they have ginger, boneset, and blue vervain in the kitchen here. Tell them to boil them together in fresh water for about half an hour and then strain it. It should help."

  He looked surprised. "Are you a doctor?" he asked.

  Lana smiled. "I was apprenticed to a witch. Well ... I suppose I am a witch now, aren't I?"

  "Of course ... the geas, the wings. You just look so young." His eyes had turned gentle and ocean-like again.

  "I'm eighteen," she said, and then paused. "Wait, what's the date?"

  He stared at her. "The fifth day of the fourth month, I think. Why?"

  Lana started laughing. She couldn't seem to stop herself, even when she had to fight back another dry heave. She wasn't sure if the tears in her eyes were from mirth or grief.

  Something about her reaction seemed to worry him. "What is it?"

  "My birthday," she said, after the wild, bubbling mirth had left her, "was yesterday. I'm nineteen."

  The draught, mercifully, reduced her nausea. She slept for nearly a day straight after she took it, waking up only when Kai forced her to drink water. Three days after he first began caring for her, the fever finally broke. She was still weak, but a numb, stubborn happiness had settled around her. She refused to think about what would happen when she had fully recovered and she and Kai would leave each other. Instead, she waited patiently for him to return from his strange excursions each day, looking forward to their conversations. He must have led a very sheltered life, she realized-a particularly solitary one, growing up virtually alone on the water shrine with no other children his age. In fact, Lana began to suspect that this was the first time he had left the water shrine since he was small. She wondered how people reacted to him, since he obviously wasn't entirely human. People probably preferred honoring their guardians at great distances rather than in person. No one felt comfortable in the face of such alien, overwhelming power. Lana wasn't quite comfortable with such power, either, but it thrilled her.

  He never said any of this to her, of course. Kai was always unfailingly polite, but he guarded himself very closely, never saying more about himself than was necessary. The fourth day, he returned when she was sitting on the bed, reading one of his books.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked. She wondered if the smile on his flushed face was forced.

  Lana thought about feigning more weakness than she felt, but she didn't think it would be fair. "Much better," she said.

  He sat on the bed next to her and put down a few packages he had been carrying. "You could probably use a few extra days, though. You don't have to push yourself."

  "What are those?" she asked, pointing to the packages.

  "Presents. I'm sorry I didn't get this for you sooner ..." He pulled out a beautiful blue long shirt, the match to the pants that he had given her a few days ago. In back it had two long slits to fit her wings, and buttons continuing beneath them.

  "How did you ..." Her hands were trembling. It was such a simple thing-a shirt to fit her wings-but she had never been given such a wonderful present in her life. Perhaps because Kai was a kind of non-human aberration himself, he understood her need to regain some sense of normalcy.

  "I had it altered by a seamstress in the nearest village. She's making another now-it should be ready in a few days."

  Lana wanted to hug him, do something to show the depth of her gratitude, but she found herself awkwardly unable to move. It had been years since she had shown that kind of affection to anyone outside her family. But she couldn't just sit there. She inched forward and, without really thinking, rested her head on his chest. He seemed surprised at first and then, tentatively, he put his arms around her back. She could feel him gently stroking her wings, as though they were sacred objects and not the mark of a black angel.

  After a very long time, he pulled away slightly and looked at her. His ocean-eyes rippled with occasional flashes of light. She heard the air moving in and out of her lungs, her heart beating in her chest, but that didn't feel like it had anything to do with her anymore. Her body functioned, but she was lost in those deep, unfathomable, alien eyes. He leaned forward.

  This was the third time Lana had ever been kissed. This time, it shocked her how much she wanted it.

  She fell asleep soon after, lulled by the comfort of his embrace and his rich, damp smell. When she woke up again several hours later, he was kneeling in front of the writing desk that faced the small private garden. He looked completely absorbed in whatever he was writing, pausing for long moments before each sentence. The sight of his now greenish hair bound at the base of his neck with a leather string, his broad back, and his brown shirt casually hanging over his pantaloons, made her bite her lip against the sudden longing that flooded her. She knew so little about him, but at this moment that didn't seem to matter.

  "What are you writing?" she asked.

  His hand jerked in surprise, making ink splatter all over the paper.

  "Oh, I'm sorry-"

  "Don't worry," he said, turning around and smiling at her. "I'll just do it over. I didn't realize you were awake. I can finish this later." He stood up and sat next to her.

  "So, what were you writing?" Lana asked again, wondering if she sensed a little evasiveness in his tone.

  "Just some letters." He reached over to the foot of the bed and picked up a small wooden box-one of the objects that he had dropped there earlier in the day. "I never got to give you the rest of your presents, you know."

  "What is that?" she said. Kai took the top off the box. Inside, she saw
several small objects, delicately wrapped in bamboo leaves and tied with a bit of green twine. They smelled sweet.

  "The town where the seamstress lives is famous for making these sweets, so I brought some back. Do you want to try one?"

  He seemed so hopeful that Lana had to laugh. "Of course," she said.

  Kai picked up one of the sweets and undid the twine. Inside the bamboo leaf was a sticky purple oblong ball.

  "They make the outside from pounded rice. The filling is made from some kind of red bean, I think-it's hard to understand the accents around here, sometimes." He held it up to her mouth, and after a moment's hesitation she bit into it. The sweet, tangy paste filling had a smooth texture that contrasted beautifully with the chewy stickiness of the outside.

  "It's ... wonderful," Lana said, surprised.

  Kai put the other half in his mouth and his intent expression soon turned to one of delight. "You know, I wasn't sure when I bought them, but they are delicious, aren't they?"

  Lana nodded. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, but before it could turn into anything more, the bell outside their door began ringing peremptorily. Kai's eyes abruptly regained their irises-a chilly pale blue.

  "Just leave whatever it is outside the door. I believe I left instructions not to be disturbed?" His voice took on that commanding tone that she remembered from the day he took her in.

  She heard furious whispering from the people on the other side of the door.

  "I apologize, sir," a woman said firmly. "But this matter cannot wait another night." Lana thought the voice belonged to the innkeeper who had refused to invite her over the threshold. "If you won't open the door, then we will be forced to come in ourselves. Do you understand?"

  Lana suddenly felt very afraid. She saw the light of several lanterns through the dark screen. Why would so many people decide to come to their room this late in the evening? She had a sudden, horrible premonition of violence.