by Indie Gantz
“They must meet between the barriers sometimes, the Negral and the High Coven. I don’t know how they speak between meetings, though.” John replies, turning his back on us and pointing off into the distance.
I follow his gesture and take in the scene in front of us more thoroughly. About half a bêru from the edge of the cliff, is the beginning of a forest. It’s different from the jungle, not quite as dense and less green. Between the forest and the cliff’s edge is an open field with wildflowers and high grass, most likely home to at least a few different types of snakes and rodents.
“The Anunnaki barrier begins about fifty šēpusi inside the forest. There are signs posted inside, about it being dangerous. Some of which have pictures of various gruesome creatures that are supposed to live inside, just like Zoúnkla.” John turns back to me and my eyes widen. “It’s not true, it’s just a way to keep Téssera from getting too far in this direction, just like the stories of Zoúnkla do for the Anunnaki people.”
“Ignore the creepy pictures of made up monsters.” I put my thumb up. “Check.”
“I suggest you make your way to the town your mother spoke of as quickly as possible and then find somewhere to sleep for the night. You can use that time to study and practice, then head to the pod station first thing in the morning.” John’s eyes flit over to Tirigan, who begins to walk past him and into the overgrown field. “Once you are on your way to San Antonio, you can spend that time reading and practicing.”
I watch as Tirigan begins stepping carefully through the grass, presumably not even listening to John.
Are you just going to go on by yourself, then? I start after him and John follows.
I had already drawn the same conclusions as John. I see no point in wasting our already limited time.
I let out an annoyed sigh, but continue after him, watching my step as much as possible as my feet disappear under the tall grass. I sneak a peek at my father, who has come up beside me and is looking at me curiously. I give him an apologetic smile.
“Know-it-all up there is well ahead of you in the timing of this whole thing,” I explain quietly.
“Ah,” John replies with a knowing smile. He raises his voice enough so Tirigan can hear too. “I’m glad you are so focused, Tirigan. Your sister is lucky to have you.”
I scoff quietly at that and give my father a dirty look. “Traitor.”
John chuckles softly. The sound of my father’s laugh is familiar and comfortable, but its presence makes me feel like my chest is going to cave in. These are the last minutes I’m going to spend with my father for who knows how long. I’m still reeling from the loss of Calla, and now I have to say goodbye to John, too. My throat feels like it’s closing up. I slow my pace noticeably, no longer in a hurry to get to our destination.
You do realize the faster we get to the border, the faster we’re going to have to leave John.
Yes. I am aware.
Then why are you walking so quickly? Don’t you want to spend-?
There is no point in delaying the inevitable. I do not wish to say goodbye to John, but there is no other possibility. I have considered them all.
I don’t doubt that, but-
Tirigan stops walking and looks behind his shoulder, eyeing me carefully. It gives John and me a chance to catch up. I understand you wish to spend more time with our father before we have to leave.
Yes. Don’t you?
I do not wish to lose valuable time on something that cannot be changed, despite my emotional attachments.
I let out a loud breath of annoyance as we reach Tirigan, and we all start walking together. Can you not do that right now?
Do what?
The thing where you separate yourself from your emotions and I feel like I am crazy for actually having feelings.
Tirigan seems to think about that for a moment, his brow furrowing a great deal and his lips pursing. Now may be a good time for you to learn the skill.
What? Learn how to not feel?
You misunderstand. I am just as emotionally affected by our present circumstances as you are, only I realize it doesn’t matter.
What doesn’t matter? My feelings?
Yes. Your feelings right now are telling you to hold on to John for as long as you can. You are sad at the thought of losing him. Unfortunately, those feelings are counterproductive to our goal.
It isn’t the first time I’ve heard this argument, but it feels more poignant somehow. It’s not that I don’t understand where Tirigan’s coming from, because I do. It’s just that I’ve never been able to separate my emotions the way Tirigan can.
They matter to me.
Of course they do. My words aren’t meant to dissuade you from having feelings. I merely recommend you learn not to rely on them so much, especially now.
I keep silent after that. Tirigan has a point. If I let it happen, my fear and sadness could keep me from opening myself up to this new world the way I need to. If I let them, my emotions have the potential to destroy me, and I can’t let anything get in the way of us and that festival.
My mother’s life could depend on it.
Interlude II
Day Forty: Tirigan
CHAPTER TEN
Flying in Cars with Boys
Idon’t tell Charlie about the vehicle’s disappearance. I tell her I was mistaken, that there hadn’t been a vehicle at all. I tell her lies. Guilt. The Anunnaki do not lie. It is not in their nature. However, deception is not only useful in times of distress, it can also be necessary. This is the third lie I’ve told my sister since we’ve left our home.
“You ready?” Avias asks me. I step back towards the vehicle.
“Yes,” I respond.
I sit in the passenger’s seat. Kor sits behind me. He reads a map while Bo points out landmarks over his shoulder. Calor sits next to Kor and stares out the windshield, his arm over his stomach. Oleander sleeps against him. Charlie digs for food inside of an old black bag. Torn on the right side, grass stain on the bottom, fraying along the handle. She passes out pieces of a loaf of bread. I am not hungry. I wave my sister’s offer away. She doesn’t look pleased.
Avias drives us west. I keep my mind closed, my eyes open.
“There’s going to be a potential problem for us once we reach Corpus Christi,” Kor says to no one in particular. “There’s an old military base there that’s been restored for the High Coven’s use. The area around it, including the surrounding roads, is heavily guarded with checkpoints.”
“Checkpoints?” Bo asks loudly, presumably into her father’s ear judging by the shifting sound that comes directly after. “What in the bugger are those for?”
“Security measures,” Kor answers.
Security measures. Secrecy. Hidden agendas.
“Security for what, exactly?” Avias asks from beside me. “What’s there to be so nervous about?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know, much of which I will not be discussing on this particular car ride,” Kor replies, his words heavy with distraction. “The factions haven’t always functioned as well as they do now. There were disagreements in the past that forced certain groups to fortify. The military base in Corpus belongs to Efforos.”
Efforos faction. With Earth comes life, with life comes prosperity. Largely pacifists. Seeks to repopulate the Earth, claiming the decimation of elemental power as population increases a natural progression of their species.
“Why would Efforos need a military base?” Calor asks from beside Kor. “They never engage when Dynami tries to start somethin’.”
Dynami faction. As we proliferate, so does our weakness. Frowns upon excessive procreation. The more Téssera born, the more people there are to draw power from the Earth, the less power there is to draw from.
“Defense is not engagement,” Kor answers absently.
“Do you think the Dynami faction would become violent?” Charlie asks from the back of the vehicle. “The textbooks say-”
“What is written is irr
elevant. The textbooks say what the Collective wants you to know,” Kor interrupts. “Which is remarkably similar to nothing at all.”
Yes, of course. They speak of one hive, one interweb, but the Collective is no different than any other governing body. They hold secrets; they tell lies. Such is the way of human authority.
“So, what will we do?” Bo asks, her voice shaking slightly. “How will we get through?”
“We’ll have to go around,” Kor answers. “Efforos may be largely uninterested in the more sinister side of our political regime, but their higher officials will have been warned.”
“Warned about what?” Calor asks. There is soft current of disapproval in his voice. “I still don’t know what the hell it is we’re-”
“Now is not the time to discuss that,” Kor cuts him off.
Irritation flicks my eyes towards the window again. I’d like to know how Calor would have phrased his question. His presence here, while now more understood after his confession, is still largely perplexing. What he did for us has not been spoken of since the action was performed, and while his motives are becoming more clear, I still find myself intrigued by the young man’s intentions.
I look over my shoulder to inspect Calor’s current state. His eyes are hard on mine and waiting for an answer to his unspoken question. Charlie is watching me, I feel her gaze and meet it.
Open mind: Charlie.
Can we trust him?
He already knows a great deal. His warning to us came because of what he overheard Bo say, and because of what he knew his family intended to do with that information.
Yes, but can we trust him?
I don’t know. He trusts Avias.
And you trust Avias.
So do you.
And everyone else in this car. We don’t know Calor as well, though. We haven’t lived with him for the past month. We don’t know-
We are severely limited in our options, Charlie. He cared enough for Avias to warn us. Hopefully that concern will extend to us as well.
Maybe. Although, if his focus is Avias, you’re not exactly going to be his favorite person.
Close mind.
Charlie’s assumption feels weighted, but I cannot immediately grasp its ultimate meaning. I am utterly ignorant to the complexities of friendships, as I’ve never had one before outside of my sister. I trust Avias, just as I do the others, but there is a sense of something more between us. Largely, that something is a feeling I get from him. There is a certain fondness that he carries with him when he is around me. Peculiar. I do not know what to do with this knowledge, but so far a response hasn’t been required of me.
However, Charlie just implied that my relationship with Avias could be a deterring factor in Calor’s presence here. Whatever happened between them does not prevent Calor from maintaining a strong protectiveness of Avias, but I do not see any sign that Avias returns that feeling. Largely, Avias has focused his attention on me.
Oh. Jealousy. Well. That’s rather obvious now.
I am not completely obtuse to this emotion. I’ve felt it in fleeting whims when Charlie received more praise as a child or was more successful in athletic endeavors, but it isn’t a feeling I’ve spent a lot of time cultivating. If Calor is jealous of my relationship with Avias, it could prove to be a problem.
I do not want to ponder any of these thoughts while Charlie has access to my mind. I have to focus on the mission. Calla.
Open mind: Charlie.
We don’t have to tell him everything. We can simply tell him we are trying to find our mother.
He will want to know why. He will want to know-
He can desire what he wants, that does not mean he will attain it. When we feel like we can trust him, we will tell him more.
Close mind.
Charlie nods, and I turn back to look out the front window of the vehicle.
“We’re about twenty kilometers from the coast,” Kor informs us. “We’ll go in shifts.”
“I can drive while you guys take the flanks.” Calor offers. “Avias will need his hands.”
“Yes,” Kor agrees, and then his hand is on my shoulder. Stop. Don’t touch me. It feels like a boulder is crushing me, despite the lightness of his touch. I jerk away before I can remind myself not to. Kor picks his hand up swiftly. There is a crease in his brow and a soft set to his eyes when I look at him. An apology.
“Are you up for it, Tirigan?” My head tilts as I ponder his question.
We are almost at the coast. We will have to travel over an ocean. We have no boat. We will need to fly. Possibly for a very long time. Assistance is needed. I nod my agreement then look back out the window while I continue contemplating the consequences of telling Calor the truth of our mission.
As it stands, Calor knows pieces of the truth through second-hand information, none of it confirmed by us. Calla warned us against telling people who we truly are for a reason. The logical answer would be to withhold information until it is absolutely necessary to divulge it. Francis Bacon.
Except that I can’t trust my instincts anymore. Sentiment took hold of my usual logical thought processes the moment Calla was taken. I have fought against it, but even the choice to go to the festival immediately was entirely ill-conceived. Poorly planned, too many risks. I knew this when I suggested it. No. When I demanded it.
The logical choice would have been to wait the six months for the next solstice festival. We would have had six months to learn and study and hone our powers. We would have been that much more prepared for everything that was to come, for everything that is still to come. My feelings for Calla clouded my judgment. I convinced myself that it was more reasonable to go immediately and not waste precious time that could be used to look for Calla. Charlie agreed, because Charlie believes my assessments to be free of emotional tethers. Charlie has always trusted me to make the right decision, but she is ignorant to my recent inability to think clearly.
The night Calor warned us, the night we all left together, I was ready to argue with my sister. We had enough information to leave our temporary home and try to find Calla, but I wanted to stay. Not forever, just a while longer. I know that was a foolish desire. I know that it wasn’t logic holding me in Avias’ home, it was emotion. Friendship. It was the satisfaction of obtaining something I never knew I wanted, and the fear of not wanting to let it go. I feel ashamed at my initial unwillingness to listen to Charlie’s argument before we were forced to leave. As much as I value the bonds we have formed, my priorities have not changed. Our journey now reminds me of that.
I want to find Calla, and we are on the path to do just that. Charlie. Calla. John. They are what matters. Nothing else. No one else.
I don’t know when it happened, but my eyes have fallen to Avias’ profile. His eyes are no longer soft with sleep. They are wide and observant. There is tension in his chest, his arms extended and attached to rigid hands that grip the steering wheel more firmly than necessary. Avias’ gaze flicks to the rear view mirror, his jaw setting harshly as his eyes find what they’re looking for. I don’t need to look behind me to know who Avias is looking at in the backseat of the vehicle, his gaze hard and unwavering.
I should be concerned about Avias’ lack of attention on the road, but I find myself more interested in what my friend is thinking when he stares back at the blonde Fotián.
Interesting.
Day Three: Charlie
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Evening Before the Fugitive Came
The first thing I notice when we enter the forest is that the trees are far more spread out, and the air is less moist than the jungle. It’s cooler than moments before, the spread of the tree canopy above us providing sufficient shade. The open field before the forest was less forgiving.
I’m very grateful for our temperature-regulated clothing, and not at all looking forward to giving them up. The clothing Calla left for us looks comfortable enough, but they won’t keep our bodies from sweating buckets under the sun, an
d we’ll probably suffer from a few sunburns before our skin adjusts. I don’t know how Calla got the human clothes since she couldn’t have passed back over to Mitéra to get them. My guess is she made them herself recently; they look like they’re tailor-made for us.
I keep my pace behind Tirigan, ducking below low branches and stepping over fallen tree limbs. The trees inside the forest are less lush than those in the jungle, but still relatively vibrant. Just like Zoúnkla, some trees are heavy with fruit while others are bare except their leaves. I recognize a few different types, but I’ve never spent much time studying botany, so I can’t be sure.
After we’ve walked for a little while, my father stiffens beside me. I ask if everything’s all right, instinctively looking around for a threat, but he gives me a strained smile and motions for me to keep going.
The farther we get to the forest, the more unsettled John becomes. Just as a wave of nances and corkwoods greet us, my father stops short and makes a noise of uncertainty.
“John?” I turn around to face him. Tirigan continues on for a few paces, but then stops as well.
“It’s nothing,” John replies, waving me off. “Let’s keep on.”
He doesn’t look at me, just keeps walking, and I’m left to assume his behavior stems from what comes next. John has to say goodbye to his children hours after losing his partner. I can’t blame him for any reservations he may be feeling.
After another few minutes of walking, John starts flinching every so often, his brow furrowing in concentration as he trudges along.
Tirigan reaches out to me. Something is wrong with him. I can feel… something is not right.
Before I can ask what Tirigan means, my father latches onto my upper arm, crushing me under his extreme grip. My cry of painful surprise is cut off by the look on my father’s face. His eyes are wide and screaming, the muscles in his neck and jaw pulsing with tension.
