Passage (Akasha Book 1)

by Indie Gantz

  Robin becomes a cranky little nuisance just as the last match of the day is set to begin, and Oleander offers to take him back to the booth. The rest of us stay to watch a Gyan and a Fotián shut down the matches for the day, with the Gyan claiming the final match for herself when she ensnares the Fotián in a large Cyprus tree, making it impossible for him to move at all until she releases him. Even when his body glows orange and red hot, the Gyan repairs the tree faster than the Fotián can burn it.

  When Avias, Bo, and I finally head back to the booth, the sun’s very low in the sky and an evening breeze prickles at my skin. I can hear Kor’s voice, thick and deep, once we get closer to the booth.

  “Its appearance alone should dissuade its consumption. The species most likened to it is the cockroach. The cockroach!” Kor has his foot on top of a box of clothing and is looking down at Tirigan, who’s sitting on the ground with his legs crossed. He’s looking up at the man with a bewildered, but amused expression.

  “It is rather odd,” Tirigan agrees, his tone slightly patronizing.

  “What’s this now?” Bo says, leading us around to the back entrance of the booth. “We comin’ back to you yappin’ about bleedin’ shrimp again?” She turns to Tirigan and shakes her head. “Just ignore him. We all do.”

  Tirigan smiles up at her then opens his mind to me. How did you find the matches?

  Entertaining. I learned a few things, I think. You would have probably enjoyed yourself if you had tagged along.

  I enjoyed myself here. Kor is very unique. Tirigan stands and brushes the dirt off his pants.

  “We were just starting to pack up the booth for the day,” Vi whispers, pointing to a sleeping Cyra, lying on a blanket on the ground.

  “She sleeps through tornados,” Kor puts in, his voice raised purposefully. “Literally. She has legitimately done that.”

  I laugh. “Impressive.”

  Avias moves through the booth and starts stacking the boxes under the counter. The counter itself is bare, all of the things Vi had out earlier to sell packed away. “What’s left then?” He asks his mother, his voice lowered.

  “Just the stones,” Vi responds back softly. “Everything else we can lock up in the booth.”

  Avias nods and picks up one of two boxes that contain the basic casting stones Vi had traded during the today. He doesn’t use his powers to levitate the box. It’s an interesting detail about him, and maybe Téssera as a whole. They don’t seem to use their powers for every little thing.

  “I’ve got this one.” He catches Tirigan’s eye and pushes the other box of stones towards him. “Care to lend a hand, Tirigan?”

  Tirigan’s throat bobs as he swallows back any anxiety he has at Avias’ request. He eventually nods in agreement, and hoists the box up manually as well.

  “That’s the last of it,” Kor says. “I’ll grab Cyra and we can meet back at the campsite.”

  He steps over to where his toddler is napping and scoops her up into his arms. I take it upon myself to pick up the blanket she was laying on and drape it over her while she continues to sleep. Vi folds down a wooden board over the booth’s front window and padlocks it.

  “We are on the west side, site 231,” she tell me. You’re welcome to come back with us, have a bit of a chat around the fire before the “Ílio Teletourgikó.”

  Tirigan and Avias are already walking away from the booth in the direction of the campsite, with Bo hot on their heels, so I don’t have my brother to consult with about Vi’s offer. I feel like maybe we should just head back to our own tent, get some rest and maybe meet up in the morning. I have no idea what the event is she mentioned, and I feel like we shouldn’t show up to some Téssera tradition and not have a clue as to what’s going on.

  “Oh, um,” I say nervously, backing away as Vi closes the back doors of the booth and padlocks them. “I should-I mean we should probably just get some rest. We traveled awhile to get here.”

  “Okay, love, no pressure,” Vi soothes with a smile. “The invitation is open.”

  “Okay,” I reply shyly. “Thanks.”

  “Grab Oleander, will you?” Kor requests, motioning with his chin behind me. “His daydreams are notoriously complex. He may pace out there for hours if you don’t interrupt.”

  “Sure. No problem.” When I turn around towards the field behind the row of booths, I see Oleander carrying Robin in his arms. The little boy sleeps on his shoulder as Oleander walks slowly in circles around the field. Their bodies cast shadows onto the grass, the orange and red of the setting sun lighting them up brilliantly. As I approach him, I can hear Oleander humming softly, his head tilted back slightly as his face soaks in the last of the day’s sunlight.

  “It’s time to go,” I say softly, admiring the gentleness of the way Oleander holds the little boy. He smiles sleepily at me and nods.

  “Good thing, a few more minutes of this and I was going to fall asleep with him. I’m knackered.”

  He takes the lead, and we follow the rest of the group back to the campsite. We pass by other groups of friends and families packing up their booths for the day.

  There are children scattered about, rough housing or invoking their elements playfully. Just up ahead in the field, I see the mother from the train talking animatedly to another woman. They’re sitting on a blanket as the toddler plays with a circle of Earth stones, and the infant sleeps in the second woman’s arms. The toddler dances around them and sings a made up song as flowers grow out of the stones. I ready myself to say hello if the woman sees me, but she never takes her eyes off her partner, and we pass their blanket without incident.

  The sounds from the festival grow quieter as it winds down, and people start to head to their campsites or homes for the day. After a few minutes of walking, we leave the last of the festival tents behind and are left to walk down the path towards the woods. I can see the train station in the opposite direction of where we’re headed, and it reminds me of something we have yet to learn.

  “Vi mentioned that you live south of here. You took the train, right?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake Robin.

  “Yeah,” Oleander replies softly, his voice deeper as he whispers. “We came in yesterday morning to set up the booth. Kor moved us back to his hometown when we came over here. The Collective wanted him to go to one of the bigger cities, but Kor convinced them he could work from there.”

  I want to ask what Kor does, but I’m sidetracked by something else Oleander said. Kor’s hometown. That means they live where Calla used to live. My mother’s hometown.

  My mind races with thoughts and ideas about getting to know her through the town she lived in and whether there are people there that would remember her. Maybe even her family… our family.

  Oleander seems to catch on to my line of thinking before I even have a chance to voice it.

  “That’ll be pretty cool for you guys. Getting to see where your mum grew up.” I nod, still dazed. “Well, the town is small and secluded, but it’s pretty great,” Oleander smiles brightly. “Yeah, I think you’ll like Pacoa just fine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A Dawkins Mystery

  I can’t breathe.

  Ash. Nothing but ash and smoke. It fills my lungs and chokes me. The waves of heat are blinding. I’m surrounded by fire, and there is no one to help me. Suffocating. Burning. Dying.

  Alone.

  “Charlie!”

  Not alone. Tirigan. He calls to me through a bucket of ineffectual water. I can’t find him, can’t see him. I’m being consumed.

  “Charlie! Wake up!” Tirigan yells, and this time I understand. This time…

  I feel his hands on me. Shaking me. The scorched bark beneath my back scratches—No. Not real.

  “Open your eyes,” Tirigan coaxes. I follow his voice, not his mind. Where is his mind? “Charlie, you need to wake up.”

  I can’t reach him. My thoughts are not my own, my mind is not…

  “Charlie!” Tirigan yells. Pain erupts over my
face, sharp and lingering. My eyes jolt open. They’re unseeing. Hazy, smoke— No . Not real. I try to focus. I see my brother’s outline. My eyes burn. Tears collect and stream towards my ears. The blurry watercolor hovering above me is Tirigan. My mouth is dry.

  “Tirigan,” I try, but my throat’s filled with ash.

  “Charlie, whatever you’re doing, you need to stop.”

  “What?” I whisper. I attempt to sit up; my arms are two long sacks of bricks. They ache. I still can’t see. There’s too much smoke. No— Yes. Real smoke. It fills our tent.

  “What?!” I scramble out of my sleeping bag, fully awake now. The smoke immediately recedes

  I can see Tirigan clearly. A swarm of emotion plays on his face. Confusion…horror…guilt? My cheek still stings.

  “You slapped me.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I had to wake you up. I was afraid someone might see.” He steps forward, I can tell he wants to comfort me but is unsure of what to do.

  “It’s all right,” I say, rubbing my cheek softly. “I understand.” I try to move, but my body feels like it’s been strapped down for hours. I’m weak. So tired. “What happened?”

  I feel Tirigan’s mind against my own. It’s a relief.

  I don’t know. I was reading outside, and I….felt something. I think it was your fear. I tried to reach your mind to wake you up, but it was like you weren’t even here. I couldn’t find you.

  Couldn’t find me?

  That’s what it felt like. His face is so much paler than I’ve ever seen it before. And then, when I opened the tent, I saw the smoke.

  It was real? My eyes fall to the floor of our tent. Ash covers my sleeping bag. It wasn’t a dream? There was really a fire?

  Tirigan shakes his head. No. There was no fire, Charlie. It was you. Your dream…it was manifesting.

  My throat, still incredibly dry, feels like it closes up. How can that be possible? How can I make a dream reality? Is that part of our powers?

  How… I can’t get much more out. I’m still so tired. I can feel my body trying to regenerate what it’s lost, but still, I am not yet whole. I need water.

  Tirigan goes to our bag and pulls out a bottle of water. Handing it to me, his eyes roam the exposed skin of my arms and legs.

  “What?” I ask between large gulps.

  There is no sign of actual burns.

  His tone doesn’t imply the relief I think it should. That’s a good thing, Tirigan.

  Yes, of course. His brow furrows together. There’s more to his thought, but he isn’t going to share it with me. Are you all right now?

  I nod, despite not really knowing. “The water helped.”

  Good. His eyes search my face. He’s concerned. He turns away towards the tent’s opening, intending to exit. I’ll let you get dressed. We should talk about this. Try to understand what it means.

  “I don’t know how we’re going to do that.” I reply and Tirigan turns back towards me. “I haven’t read anything about Téssera making their dreams come true. Have you?

  No. Tirigan shakes his head. You’re right. I don’t think this information will be easily acquired. Perhaps it’s a result of our mixed parentage.

  Maybe, but you haven’t experienced it, have you?

  No. I rarely dream.

  We stare at each other for a long moment, before an explanation occurs to me. Maybe I just accidentally invoked the elements while I was sleeping, because the dream was so intense. Calla said it would be difficult to control our elements at first. I bet this is just a novice mistake.

  Tirigan considers that, then nods appreciatively.

  That would make sense. He pauses, and then adds, You’ll need to be more careful.

  I scoff. “And how do you suggest I control myself while I’m asleep?”

  Tirigan gives me a look that implies I won’t like his answer. He turns around steps towards the tent’s opening. By learning to control yourself while you’re awake.

  Then he’s gone, and I am left alone in the tent. No longer dreaming of fire, but still fuming.

  ◆◆◆

  By the time I dress for the day and climb out of the tent, Tirigan has pulled out his knives and has begun throwing them into a nearby tree. The sun is just barely above the horizon, not a reasonable hour to be throwing knives. At least the direction he’s throwing in doesn’t have an occupied campsite. Impaling someone first thing in the morning is another sure fire way to get us noticed.

  And how did you sleep?

  Fine. The thought is brisk enough for me to know it’s a lie.

  Really? The dark circles under your eyes are telling a different story. He throws the last knife in his hand with much more effort than the others. It flies end over end to the tree and lands just outside of the hastily drawn bull’s eye. You’re off.

  I don’t see you throwing.

  I sigh, but allow myself to be goaded into the challenge. My body feels normal, like my own, again. I retrieve my set of knives from the tent and throw a few practice shots while Tirigan sharpens his. The first hits above the target, but the next two make it in the circle. I throw the last one just as Tirigan comes to stand beside me, and it lands right on the outside line of the bull’s eye.

  You’re off.

  “I actually noticed, thanks.” I pull my knives from the tree and step aside so Tirigan can throw. “So, back to Pacoa we go.” I broach the topic hesitantly, not sure if Tirigan is up for a discussion this morning after the dramatic way it started. He didn’t respond when I told him last night what Oleander had told me about where we’re headed, aside from saying, ‘Interesting.’

  Apparently.

  Tirigan’s first knife misses the tree entirely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do that. At least, not since we were children. With a quick flick of his wrist, he diverts the wayward knife so that it stabs into the ground behind the tree.

  “Um, what was that?”

  “I missed.” Tirigan’s tone is short and clipped. I take a step back.

  “Right.” He throws another one and it lands on the target, into the outer ring. “So…you want to talk about it or should I just expect to have to pull a knife out of some poor bystander soon.” When he doesn’t say anything, I push on. “Is this about my dream? As patronizing as your little suggestion was, I promise to work on it.”

  Tirigan stops just as he is about the throw another one and looks at me. It’s not that.

  Then what? Pacoa?

  How are you not seeing the larger issue at hand?

  Tirigan, I really don’t need a lecture right now. Just tell me whatever it is you’re thinking.

  Calla purposefully neglected to inform us that the town she directed us to in her letter, was her hometown. The issue is compounded by the fact that she told us not to explore it. Why did she keep an important but also seemingly insignificant detail from us?

  Maybe she was just worried someone she knew would recognize us.

  Tirigan squares back up to the tree and sends a knife flying. She is hiding something.

  Hiding something? What would she have to hide? I mean, she sent us to Kor. Someone who knows all about her past. If she wanted to hide that part of her life from us forever, she sent us to the wrong person.

  “Perhaps,” Tirigan concedes, sighing.

  “Look, I’m with you. It does seem weird that Calla didn’t tell us that Pacoa was her hometown, but maybe she didn’t think it mattered.” I take a step closer to Tirigan after he throws the last of his knives. Hey, this could be a really good thing. I mean, Pacoa is really close to the Anunnaki border. Maybe we could visit John soon.

  Tirigan gives me a hopeful glance, and then shakes his head slightly. I don’t know if we’ll be able to risk it.

  Are you saying no?

  No. I’m saying our parents wouldn’t approve. I doubt Kor would like us going into the jungle either.

  We fall into silence for a moment. Then I remember the information I learned before going to sleep last night. Tirigan had
fallen asleep almost immediately upon our return to our tent, exhausted from his day of social milestones. It’s obvious he could use a distraction.

  “I, uh, looked up those events Vi mentioned yesterday in the book Calla left us,” I tell him. “Ilio teletourgikó is the ritual of the sun, which is when they express their gratitude to the sun for returning. There’s a whole call and response with the elders and everyone else, and they give each other gifts and stuff. The other one, Geia Ílio, is the sun welcoming party at the beginning of the festival. From what I’ve read, there’s a lot of food, special types of dances, and clothing is optional. Shame we missed that one,” I say with a chuckle.

  Naked? Dancing…naked? I burst into laughter as Tirigan’s face contorts in the most adorable way. Do you think Kor’s family participated?

  “Probably,” I reply, still laughing at how uncomfortable Tirigan looks. “If I had to guess, I’d say Oleander, Robin, Vi, and Kor would go for it. Not so sure about the others.”

  Tirigan moves aside so that I can take my turn throwing. I put him out of his misery and change the subject.

  “Do you think we should go to their campsite this morning? They invited us to breakfast last night when we left.”

  I’d think it would be rude not to accept.

  “Plus, our stock of food is down to a few rotten apples and a couple sleeves of beans. Not exactly a feast.” My first knife leaves my hand with a little wobble and lands left of the bull’s eye.

  When do you suggest we go?

  “I don’t know. Give them a chance to wake up at least.” The second knife is better, but lands low.

  I’m getting hungry.

  “Well, we can’t have that.” The third lands squarely in the center of the bull’s eye, and I give Tirigan a smug smile.

  It only counts if you do it twice.