Passage (Akasha Book 1)

by Indie Gantz

  “What’s that now?” She leans forward on the counter, and the bracelet she’s wearing clinks against the counter. It’s made of black leather and lace and twists up her right arm in a series of crisscrosses. She wears every color gem except blue.

  The woman continues to look at me with an expectant expression, and it takes me longer than it should to realize she is waiting for me to respond.

  What did she say?

  She asked if you’re looking for something called ‘threads.’

  Right...

  “Sure...uh. I-I’m sorry, yes.” I pick up fabric at random and hold it up. “How much for this one?”

  “Three Gi.” She says it with a smile and looks over to Tirigan. “What about you? Fancy decoratin’ your neck a bit?”

  Tirigan’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly before he plants a thin smile on his face and shakes his head no.

  “Not your style, eh?” the woman continues. “How about something for your lady? I’ve got some posh lookin’ bracelets my daughter made.” She gestures towards a display of jewelry and Tirigan smiles again, but declines once more.

  “I’m his sister,” I correct.

  “Oh yeah?” The woman says conversationally. “Close in age, yeah?” The woman looks between us, nothing but friendly curiosity in her eyes.

  “Yes, we’re twins,” I tell her.

  “That’s nice, love. Twins are always something special.” The woman pushes her hair back and tucks it behind her ears. I follow the movement and notice some gray hair shining around her temples. “So, where you two from then?”

  And there it is. Time to sink or swim. I chance a nervous glance at Tirigan, who’s crossed his arms across his chest. I swallow back my fear and set my shoulders confidently.

  “Pretty far south,” I say as nonchalantly as I can manage. “Really happy we could make it this year.”

  “SoCans, yeah? Us too.” Her eyes twinkle as her smile widens. “Though not originally, of course. Just crossed the pond a couple years back.” When I just smile and nod politely, she keeps going. “Did you take the train up?”

  “Yes.” I run a finger over the gold stitching of the tunic. “Just got in today.”

  “Pity you missed the Geia Ílio party last night. Kids your age usually have a blast. Do you come every year?”

  “Um, n-no.” I stutter a bit, preparing myself for the next part of our cover story, while simultaneously storing away the name for the party that took place the night before. I’ll have to look up what it means. “This is our first time since we were small children. Our father died recently, so we thought it might help distract us a bit.” The woman’s face sobers immediately, making her look incredibly soft.

  “Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that. You two holdin’ up all right?” She turns to Tirigan, and I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. She continues to eye him with hints of concern. I tap my knuckles on the booth counter, and her eyes return to me.

  “We’re doing fine, thank you.” I say it as steadily as I can, then return to looking at the tunics. “I’ll take this one.” I pull three of the green colored stones out of my bag and place them on the counter.

  The woman ignores me and places her gaze back on Tirigan. “Not a chatty one, are yeh?”

  Tirigan gives her a thin smile. “Not really, no.”

  “I see,” she replies, returning the grin. “Well, woulda liked to have a quiet one around the house.” The woman waves her hand as if she’s trying to wipe away Tirigan’s embarrassment. “Can never get my lot to be quiet! Except for Avias, of course. That stick up his bum, keeps his mouth pretty-”

  A deep voice coming from behind us interrupts her. It’s coated in a similar accent as the woman, but where her words are clipped short, this accent pulls the vowels out longer, like silk on the tongue.

  “Charming, mother.”

  I turn my attention to the boy who approached us. He’s of medium height, maybe an ubānu taller than Tirigan and I, and dressed well. His slacks are tan and fit nicely. He wears a crisp, white button-down shirt on top. A brown leather satchel wraps around his slender waist, and a series of brown leather bracelets poke out of the sleeves of his shirt. Unlike his mother, the boy’s hair is short, very dark brown, and in a state of disarray. His skin is not fair, but not dark either. His eyes are a cool light blue color that sparkle in the sunlight and are offset by the superficial sternness of his expression.

  “Oh good, you’re here,” the woman says from behind me, speaking to the boy who just arrived. “Have you seen your sister? She ran off a while back.” I peek back over my shoulder to the woman, who’s giving the young man an annoyed, but endearing look that could only be accomplished by a mother. “Need a bell for that girl.”

  “Last I saw, she was watching the matches,” the boy replies easily.

  I chance a look at Tirigan, who’s still idly thumbing through the scarves and not showing any outward sign of being affected by the new arrival.

  “Be a good lad and fetch her, will you? Your father goes on soon.”

  “Making some friends, are you?” Another deep and heavily accented voice asks.

  I didn’t notice before, which now seems ridiculous, but the booth owner’s son has a much taller friend standing beside him, and he’s wearing a large gummy smile. He’s dressed more casually than the other boy, barefoot and wearing dark green shorts and a lightweight t-shirt. Each of his ankles are surrounded by colorful strings of fabric with white and blue stones woven within them.

  “You know me,” the booth owner replies. “Always talkin’ someone’s ear off.”

  “And lucky ears they are, Ma’am,” the taller boy says back kindly. The woman scoffs behind me.

  “Such a charmer, Ollie. Why don’t you bring these two with you, eh? They could use some fun, I think.” It takes me a moment to realize the woman’s talking about us. My mind starts fumbling over itself to come up with a way to politely decline. “I didn’t catch their names though.”

  “Oh, um. I’m Charlie,” I tell her, and then turn to the boys in front of us. “And this is my brother, Tirigan.”

  The taller boy speaks first, pushing his shoulder length hair behind his ears.

  “Oleander.” He extends his hand, and I take it. It’s incredibly warm and twice the size of my own. “Did you have to travel very far?”

  His words come out slowly, almost as if he’s purposely placing as much thoughtfulness as he can behind every syllable. He smiles as he waits for me to answer, but I find myself momentarily entranced. It takes me a second to come up with the words. He looks as though he wants to shake Tirigan’s hand too, but my brother dodges it by waving instead. Oleander pulls his hand back casually and pushes it through his long and loose curls again.

  “Uh, yeah,” I reply with a certain level of distraction. “Just a couple days on the train.”

  “Ah, better known as the floating torture chamber.” Oleander flashes me another wide smile, and I feel compelled to return it.

  “Not one for tight spaces?” I ask, looking between him and the shorter boy again.

  “Understatement of the century,” he laughs. “I’ve been told I have quite the disability.”

  “Another understatement,” the shorter boy teases. He steps forward with his hand outstretched to me.

  “I’m Avias, by the way.” I take his hand and shake it quickly. The boy gives me a curt nod and turns to my brother.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, directing my attention to Tirigan as well. He smiles politely and gives Avias a wave like the one he gave Oleander, but Avias doesn’t seem to register the dismissal as Oleander did. He continues to hold out his hand, offering it to my brother.

  I can see the wheels turning as Tirigan thinks over the possible ramifications of rejecting the handshake. Just as I am about to intervene, my brother visibly swallows back his reservations and pushes his hand into Avias’.

  I don’t have time to react to Tirigan’s social milestone because as soon
as their hands meet, a powerful sensation overcomes me. It’s like an electric current pulsing through my body, causing me to shiver all over. Before I can ask Tirigan about what just happened, Avias’ expression startles, and the sudden tension twists my stomach into a knot.

  It only takes me a second to figure out why Avias is looking at my brother strangely. Tirigan’s eyes have returned to their indigo hue, and Avias has definitely noticed. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but Avias’ reaction isn’t it. His expression returns to normal quickly, giving Tirigan a half smile as their hands linger together.

  “Quite the color you have, Tirigan.” Tirigan immediately jerks his hand out of Avias’, and his eyes revert to the colors he created for himself. “I think I prefer yours to mine,” Avias continues kindly. Then, his once deep blue eyes change abruptly. Closest to the pupil, his irises become a cold, dark grey. They fade gradually into a nearly crystal light blue until the iris reaches the white of his eyes. “Rather boring, I’d say.” Avias says lightly, letting his eyes glow the silvery hue for a moment before a green stone on the boy’s wrist begins to dim, and his eyes return to blue.

  Tirigan’s mouth hangs open slightly. His chin moves as if he is trying to find the words to say, but then he quickly snaps it shut.

  “Thank you,” Tirigan replies carefully, giving Avias a calculated look.

  “Shall we then?” Oleander’s smooth and soft voice cuts through the exchange. I’m so wrapped up in making sure we haven’t just exposed ourselves that I nod absently before I realize what I’ve agreed to.

  “Oh good!” the woman says from behind us. “Don’t forget your threads, love!”

  Still confused as to what’s happening, I turn back to take the tunic from the woman. I push the Gi stones that I had placed on the counter earlier towards her and force a smile. “Thanks.”

  “Of course, dear.” She leans in a bit and collects the stones. “Try to get them into trouble, will you?” She winks at me. “They could stand to act their age sometimes.”

  “Uh, right. Okay,” I stammer, tucking the tunic into my bag. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Right then,” Avias says quietly, still holding Tirigan’s gaze. “After you.” He holds out his arm, gesturing for us to go first, and Tirigan moves his feet. I follow him after a moment. We’re flanked by the boys quickly.

  “I caught a few minutes of a match earlier,” Oleander says conversationally. “Twas’ an exciting one.” His hands expand comically and his face lights up. “Water and fire, dueling it out like destiny intended. A proper battle, it was.”

  “Water and fire are not opposites, Oleander,” Avias cuts in. “Just because water is a remedy for fire does not make it its natural enemy.”

  If anything, air is the biggest opposition to fire. Without it, fire cannot exist. Tirigan’s thoughts float through my mind. I nod casually in agreement.

  “Air would be a more natural contender,” Avias adds and takes the lead to direct us towards the battlefield. “Fire consumes air, but it also can’t exist without it.”

  “That’s what Tirigan said,” I blurt out before I think better of it. Calla may have said it was all right to reveal our method of communication to other Téssera, but I still regret opening my mouth.

  Avias turns his gaze back to us as he walks, gracefully avoiding a group of children plowing through the path, laughing and shrieking wildly. He flits his eyes between us for a moment, and then narrows them at Tirigan. “Telepathic then?”

  Tirigan nods. Avias doesn’t seem fazed. I turn to gauge Oleander’s reaction and find him watching the children play with excited eyes. He doesn’t seem to care either.

  “Can you send your thoughts to other people?” Oleander asks, picking up a toy airplane from the ground and sailing it off to a group of small girls working together to create a mini tornado in the grass. The airplane flies through the air and lands right in the tiny funnel. The girls squeal with pleasure as the plane spins in the tornado for a few rotations, then darts out and takes off. Oleander raises his hand and suddenly a small tree is growing from the grass and snagging the plane in its branches. The girls jump up cheering, and Oleander gives a small bow in response. I try to remember that I’m supposed to be used to these casual displays of power, and force myself not to look delighted.

  “No, our parents weren’t able to hear us,” I answer.

  “Haven’t tried with anyone else?” Oleander asks, looking down at me. He practically towers above me, and I’m not a short person.

  “No, not yet at least,” I reply, glancing at Tirigan. He shakes his head slightly.

  I don’t want to. I’m not ready to do that.

  I understand. Me neither.

  A crowd cheers somewhere ahead. I look towards the noise. I can’t make out what everyone is looking at, but there’s a large group of people standing in a wide circle, watching something taking place in the middle.

  We’re meant to be heading towards a battle of some sort. I try to imagine what that would look like. Just from what we’ve seen so far, Téssera are capable of things I wouldn’t even think to try, and a mock fight between two of them would probably be wildly entertaining.

  What do you suppose are the rules? How do you know if you win the battle?

  I shrug and ask Oleander, hoping he takes my ignorance in stride. He smiles down at me, and the sun catches the side of his face, making Oleander’s skin glow. His eyes are a mossy green color, wide and unhindered in their regard of me.

  “Never seen a match?” he asks kindly.

  I shake my head no. “We haven’t been here since our mother died when we were children.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Avias says, looking straight ahead. “That must have been quite difficult for you.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, and Tirigan’s echoes me. I direct my attention back to the match, not wanting to discuss our fake history more than we have to. “The match isn’t to the death or anything. Right?”

  Oleander laughs.

  “Oh, no. You can yield at any point, which automatically makes the other person the winner. If neither person yields, the battle is over after five minutes, and it’s called a draw.” Oleander looks off at the approaching crowd and shrugs. “The battles are more for fun than anything else, but there have been some accidents in the past.”

  “Accidents?” I ask.

  “Yes, some participants refuse to acknowledge their weaknesses and do not yield,” Avias says rather coldly, as if speaking from experience.

  “What happens to them?” I press, my mind going wild with possibilities.

  “It depends. Usually nothing permanent,” Oleander offers. “But there have been a few disfigurements, amputations, and the like.” He pauses, looking straight ahead and then smiles back down at me. “You know, nothing too serious.”

  I laugh at his joke. It’s an odd sound at first, something I didn’t think I wasn’t ready for so soon after losing our parents and entering a new world without them, but it pops out naturally. It takes me a second to realize it happened. Oleander seems pleased with himself.

  “It’s a proper show, though,” he continues. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Sounds fun,” I answer, looking around for a place to escape if we need to. The fact that these two boys seem perfectly nice doesn’t mean we don’t need to be on guard. Being what we are, we’ll always be in danger in this world. If Avias and Oleander knew what we really were, would they still be this kind? Probably not. After the shock wore off, they’d probably be terrified. We aren’t supposed to exist. We are not allowed to exist. The unknown reason why scares me more than the fact itself. There are too many possibilities as to why our existence is forbidden, and every single one of them makes my skin crawl.

  We reach the crowd after just another moment of walking, and Avias leads us through a gap in the circle of people.

  “Sick!” A girl’s voice shouts over the cheers. She’s small in stature, with short jet-black hair. The
tips are frosted a whitish blue color, and her clothes show more care than some of the others we’ve seen. She wears no jewelry besides a rather large green ring on her left middle finger. She looks to be maybe a couple years younger than Tirigan and I.

  “Take your knickers with ya’ sweetheart!” The girl yells with a laugh.

  “Bo,” Avias’ voice admonishes from beside me. The girl jumps and turns abruptly, a devilish grin on her face.

  “Ave! You missed it! It was bloody brilliant! Cal had Holly up a tree, quite literally, and then burned the thing to the ground. Almost took her hand off, he did!”

  Avias gives his younger sister an affectionate but disinterested look. He introduces us then turns his gaze to the field. I follow his line of sight to see a young man standing in the middle, doing some sort of victory run around the center.

  Avias narrows his eyes at the boy and purses his lips in concentration. “How long has he been running the field?”

  “Goin’ on his fourth round,” Bo answers excitedly. “A Néroian came close during the last round, but he got him stuck in his own mud pit. It was hilarious.” The girl laughs boisterously, and her eyes light up with glee. They’re mostly black, but streaks of yellow cut through the darkness.

  “Right,” Avias says quickly, his mind having obviously come to terms with whatever he’s about to do. He begins to unbutton the cuff of his sleeves and rolls them up to his elbows. He then unties the leather of his bracelets and hands them both to Oleander, who places the bracelets in his pocket.

  “Oh, you going to show off now, are you?” Oleander asks with a smirk.

  Avias tosses Oleander an amused glance. He unties the leather satchel around his waist and pulls three Aéras stones out of it. They’re clear near the edges but closer to white in the middle.

  “Oh bugger,” Bo says with a roll of her eyes. She takes the satchel her brother hands her. Everything's happening so quickly, I don’t have time to react to the sudden change in dynamic.

  Avias walks confidently out onto the field while the rest of us watch on eagerly. He places the three stones in a basket on the opposite side of the field. When the reigning champ finally spots Avias, it looks like he might throw up. He definitely knows Avias, maybe even battled him before.