by Mara Duryea
“Ah, Rezh!” he bellowed. He for one didn’t think a death needed a moment of silence, although it was the aversion to death that hushed the floor. He bounded over. “Are you ready for your walk? It looks like you are. Come! And afterward, breathing exercises.”
Grenzen was tall and almost as skinny as Rezh, who had suffered near starvation. Grenzen ate several meals a day. Rumor had it he harbored a tapeworm of some sort. He was kind of scary to look at.
The yellow Rykori pulled Rezh into the sandstone corridor, and they started down the red carpet. Baby crawled after them.
“How are you doing, Rezh?” said Grenzen. “You look like you’re improving. Maybe I can get Coolaya to cut your hair. You’re starting to look like a wanderer.”
“I am?”
“And how could that possibly be bad?” said a silky female voice. The most beautiful janitor Rezh had ever seen approached. She was a Veerin: tall, willowy, and crowned with feathery brown, black, and white hair. Her bangs were redder than rubies, as was her full tail of the same delicate hair. Her eyes were as green as baby leaves, and her black lashes twice as long and thick as anyone else’s. Her cheeks were naturally rosy and her lips pink. She wore a nasty brown jumpsuit and made it look stylish. She pushed a wooden cleaning supply cart.
“Hi, Meesa,” said Grenzen in a trance-like state.
Meesa winked at him. “I’m just cleaning your patient’s room.” She held Rezh’s gaze for a full ten seconds before swinging her hips past them and towards his room.
Grenzen sucked in air as if he couldn’t get enough. “Great Cubons, Rezh. I know she’s my friend’s wife, but the woman is a real woman, you know? There’s nobody like her.”
Rezh nodded.
Coolaya rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and waved at them. She was pale in comparison to the vision they’d beheld. Rezh thought she’d keep walking wherever she was headed, but instead she fell in step with them. She made sure to walk close to the physical therapist. Rezh recalled he had dyed himself yellow for her.
“Oh, Grenzen,” she crooned, “your yellow fur is becoming and really stands out against your robe. Doesn’t it, Rezh?”
“He looks ridiculous.”
Coolaya gasped. “Rezh! Don’t pay any attention to him, Grenzen. He’s still recovering.”
Grenzen frowned as he glanced at his ludicrous feet. “Do I really look ridiculous?”
“Suppose you died with yellow feet?” said Rezh. “Hezlin would ask who wanted your body, and nobody would claim it.”
“I would,” said Coolaya.
“Your mom wouldn’t let you, and Grenzen will die before her, even if he reaches three hundred.”
Coolaya’s shoulders slumped, crestfallen, but Rezh couldn’t apologize for speaking the truth. They walked in silence for several more minutes before Cook’s screechy voice broke what was left of the hush on this, the fiftieth floor of Sormin Vozhrith.
“What are you doing in Rezh’s room?” he howled. “Who were you waiting—Great Cubons, he didn’t eat!” Cook glared at Rezh and rushed up to him like a nasty little richid. “Why didn’t you eat? Why was my wife in your room?” He shoved a quivering, squat finger in Rezh’s face. “What was Tandorin saying?”
The Berivor Kizhiridor who’d banished Cook to the kitchen last time approached and stood beside him. “Cook, I can throw you out the window this time. Leave him alone.”
“He didn’t eat!”
Coolaya waxed bold with Kizhiridor Imrit and Grenzen at her side. “Your food is poison, Cook.”
Cook’s face went livid. “I’ll show you poison!”
Kizhiridor Imrit seized Cook by the arm and jostled him back to the kitchen. As they passed Meesa, she smiled broadly at Imrit. The Veerin was beautiful, but she was lifting her skirts for everybody but her husband.
“That kizhiridor loves it on this floor too much,” said Grenzen sourly. “Rezh, Cook won’t believe it, but keep your eyes open about Meesa and the kizhiridor.”
“But he guards this floor. He has to be on it,” said Rezh.
Grenzen folded his arms. “If Cook improves your food, you watch. It’s a deal. Remember your promise.”
“I didn’t promise anything.”
Grenzen chuckled in triumph, ignoring Rezh’s statement. “We will catch the little slut and her lovers yet! Come, Coolaya!” He grasped her hand and ran off with her.
Rezh sighed and sat down in a cup-shaped chair. Baby crawled to his foot and tugged on his pant leg. Rezh took the fat hands and helped Baby walk up his leg to sit on his knee. It was the best way to lift Baby without hurting.
Olana minced by. She’d never spoken to him, and treated him like an obstacle to something else she’d rather do. She was an Adenzhen whose face Rezh had trouble remembering. He only recognized her by the overly sweet odor of rotten lanadin.
Flighty called out to her, “Going to the morgue to bring somebody back to life, Olana?”
Olana giggled. “You know that’s impossible.”
“But you keep trying.”
Olana blushed. She would have said more, but spotted Rezh and hurried away, as if his needs might detain her.
Laugher chortled. “She’s so excited to open her skirt, she forgot about her own patient.”
“Wait until Tandorin finds out about her and Hezlin,” said her friend. “He’ll lose his mind.”
“She’s only with Hezlin’s ugly hide to get back at Tandorin,” said Laugher. “She knows he’s with Meesa.”
Flighty covered her mouth. “Wait until Cook finds out. I have to be there when he does. He’s so small, but he’ll attack Tandorin anyway.”
“What about the kizhiridor?” Laugher gasped. “Tandorin’s coming. Calm down!”
It only made Flighty giggle all the more.
“Noon Sun, Tandorin!” said Laugher, grinning.
Tandorin smiled, and then noticed Rezh abandoned in the hallway. He frowned. “Where’s Grenzen?”
Flighty tittered. “He ran off with Coolaya.”
“Cubons, what is the matter with him?”
“He left his brain in his pants,” Laugher crowed. She and Flighty burst out laughing and had to leave the hallway.
Tight-lipped, Tandorin strode to Rezh’s side. “Come, I’ll help you back to your room.” He gave Rezh his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Your blood test came back. You aren’t related to the baby. Someone will come for it tomorrow morning.”
Rezh almost collapsed back in the chair as he fought back stinging tears.
8
The Race for Baby
Rezh miserably watched Coolaya slip thick stockings on Baby’s legs and feet. Rezh clutched Baby’s winter coat in both hands. It was plain gray, probably the standard color worn at the orphanage.
“Too bad Baby has to go,” said Coolaya. “Mamma says when a baby gets abandoned, it gets mentally scarred, even though it’s too young to remember.”
“I’m not abandoning him,” Rezh almost sobbed.
Coolaya’s brows went up. “You look so unhappy. You really do love the baby, don’t you? I wish I could help you, but…” The whiff of burned mush stole into the room like a destroying spirit. “Lunch is almost ready.” Shoving the coat around Baby’s shoulders, Coolaya tore from the room.
Rezh gathered Baby to his breast and pressed his face to the fuzzy hair. Baby smelled like baby and soap. Baby seemed to know Rezh was upset and babbled comfort to him.
Knock-knock!
Rezh looked up to behold a gaunt woman dressed in an unflattering tight gray dress. It was baggy around her shoulders and somehow made her stomach appear bony. Her hat was tight enough to give her a headache. Her visage was a big bone stretched over with thin, sallow skin. Her leg fur and shaggy tail were just as gray. As to her race, Rezh wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care.
Tandorin accompanied her. He introduced her, but Rezh didn’t catch her name. He just knew she had crawled out of the orphanage. She looked like she’d be glad to give up orphans
to the bloodhearts. Baby could get molested in there. Rezh’s arms unconsciously tightened around the squishy frame.
The woman darted forward, snatched Baby out of Rezh’s arms, and whisked out the door like a kidnapper. Baby knew it, too, and burst into tears. Tandorin followed and closed the door. Rezh’s ears stung from Baby’s cries receding down the hallway. Baby’s scent still hung in the air, and Rezh could still feel the little form wiggling in his arms.
Suddenly, Baby screamed the first word anybody had heard him say.
“Daddy!”
Rezh gasped as chills rushed through his frame. He had to get Baby back, even if he had to wrestle the woman down. He’d tie her up with his own bandages if need be. He lunged for the door, but it opened before he reached it and Cook blocked his path.
“Let me by!” Rezh snapped. “I have to get Baby!”
“They won’t let you have Baby,” said Cook. “But there is something you can do.”
“Tell me!”
“First, you tell me. My wife Meesa has a lover. Who is it?”
Rezh didn’t hesitate. “Tandorin and Kizhiridor Imrit. She’s with them both.”
Cook’s face twisted as his beard quivered. “What?” It was almost a scream.
“Tell me how to get Baby back!” Rezh noticed he could hardly hear Baby anymore. He was going to lose him.
Cook shook his head back to the present. “Tell them you remember Baby and name him. Tandorin will believe you, because he and the blood tester hate each other, so the blood tester sometimes lies about the tests.” He stepped aside, and Rezh dashed into the hall.
He spotted Tandorin and the woman passing through the vozhar’s private door. Baby’s face was red and wet with tears. Rezh wasn’t supposed to run, but he didn’t care. Besides, he was much better than before. He sprinted towards the door. His rib scraped and his heart pounded from being so long without running.
Laugher and Flighty grinned at one another and jogged after him. Rezh reached the door and yanked at the latch, but it was locked.
“Ooh, ooh, hold on,” said Laugher, removing a key hanging around her neck. She unlocked the door and let Rezh inside. He stumbled on a metal bridge spanning a drop. It led to what appeared to be a square tower poked full of glowing windows, one pair to each floor. Bridges led from the other walls into the tower, four to each floor.
Tandorin and the woman were halfway across the bridge. Baby’s wails echoed as if there were hundreds of him crying from every corner.
“Daddy,” Baby screamed.
Rezh tore to the orphan marm’s side and yanked Baby out of her arms.
“Excuse me?” she cried.
“Rezh, what are you doing?” said Tandorin. “You shouldn’t be running.”
“I remember him,” said Rezh, holding Baby away from the woman. “Baby’s name is Zhin. It means ‘ember’ because of his aura. Maybe the tester made a mistake, because Zhin belongs to me.”
Tandorin’s jaw twitched. “Yes. He’s known for it.” He cast his gaze on the woman, who actually blushed pinkish gray. “Sorry for the trouble. The baby will stay with Rezh until I get to the bottom of this.”
“Certainly.” She eyed Rezh suspiciously as she continued to the square tower alone.
“Come, Rezh,” said Tandorin. “You could have punctured your own lungs. What were you thinking? You could have sent one of my assistants this way.” He spotted Laugher and Flighty by the door, and his countenance darkened. “I see they let you in.”
They ran out, but not before bestowing grins on Rezh and Baby. Tandorin sighed in disapproval as he planned a harsh lecturing session for the two girls. Yes, girls, not women. They certainly acted like a couple of children.
Tandorin opened the door and entered the sandstone corridor first. He held the door ajar for his wounded patient to pass through. As Rezh stepped into the passage, a strangled howl cut the air and Cook barreled into Tandorin’s stomach. The tall Adenzhen staggered back, hit the wall, and landed on the floor.
Cook pounded on him like a miniature mokadut, both fists rising and falling on Tandorin’s head and chest at the same time. Tandorin defended with his forearms as his tapered tail coiled around Cook’s ankles and wrenched him off. He kicked at the little madman’s face, but Cook rolled to the side and charged.
“Kizhiridor Imrit!” Flighty squeaked in glee. “Fight, fight, fight!”
The big Berivor shoved through the crowd of spectators. “Enough of this! Cook, Vozhar Tandorin, remember where you are!” He forced them apart.
Cook’s eyes flashed behind his black mask. “Come for your just deserts, Imrit?” He jumped up and down in Imrit’s grip. “You’re both eating my wife! Man whores! Man whores—man whores—man whores!”
Imrit and Tandorin glowered at one another.
“Meesa is mine!” Tandorin bellowed. “You touched her! You, my friend, touched the woman I love?”
“You already have Olana,” Imrit snarled.
Cook cackled. “Ah, Tandorin, Olana don’t want you either! She’s getting happy in the morgue with Hezlin! Mwahahaha!”
“Zhesspet!” Tandorin screamed and punched both Imrit and Cook.
Imrit roared and bashed Tandorin and Cook’s heads together. The two collapsed on the floor.
“You pus sucker!” Grenzen suddenly shouted behind Imrit. The yellow Rykori jumped on his head. Imrit yanked him off and punched him in the face.
At that moment, six kizhiridors arrived and arrested Imrit, Cook, Tandorin and Grenzen. They carried them through the private vozhar door.
“Ooh, Rezh,” said Laugher, “you really did it!” She slapped his back and walked away giggling.
Rezh winced as a wound on his back sparked and his rib seemed to crack anew. He wended his way to his room and sat in a chair while Baby rolled around on the floor. Gritting his teeth, he pressed a pillow to his chest like Grenzen had shown him and forced his breathing to slow down. His toes curled up as his claws cut into the pillow. A little knife seemed to poke at his side.
He’d lied about remembering Baby. What would happen if Tandorin found this out? Maybe Rezh would be discharged by the time Tandorin got over battling with Cook, Imrit, and later Hezlin from the morgue.
9
The Evergrin Bells
On all of Ilo, there wasn’t a person who didn’t know the Evergrin Bells. They were metallic and rang with a steady, monotonous bing…bing…bing. They served to warn of evergrins, and to mask sound. Evergrins usually couldn’t locate someone as long as they were quiet and the evergrin hadn’t spotted them first.
In the dead of a wintry night, the Evergrin Bells tolled their mournful warning. Rezh started up and Baby cried out in fear, for the bells were too loud and sudden for his ears and nerves. Rezh checked the lock on his door and then lifted Baby out of the crib without pain. His rib had knitted together by this time. He pressed one small ear to his chest and covered the other with his hand. In this way, Baby calmed down some.
Rezh settled on his bed, thinking of Hezlin and Finicor failing to burn bodies. Corpses didn’t become evergrins on their own. They attracted evergrins, who would pierce the cadaver’s flesh with syringe-like fingers. Some substance would transfer into the dead flesh and spread through the body like a virus.
Those fingers could slice up a living person, but the poison wouldn’t spread, for they only propagated in dead bodies. If the person survived, they wouldn’t become an evergrin. The living body would dispel the poison after a time.
If a body was too hobbled or mutilated, the evergrins would eat it. If the body was crippled in some way, the evergrins would still transform it, but not add it to their hoard. They only desired able-bodied corpses. This was why people saw single evergrins sometimes, and why they were crippled in some way.
Since an evergrin didn’t want a mutilated body, their favorite kill was suffocation, or a precise stab to a vital organ. They by no means wished to injure the brain, or an evergrin couldn’t think clearly enough. All things conside
red, they could still be outmaneuvered if a person kept their head.
Rezh decided he’d better plug his ears from the bells. Keeping Baby close, he searched for something to help him achieve this end. Faint screams penetrated the walls. Rezh grew still.
He approached the wall by the fireplace and pressed his ear to the sandstone. His heart skipped a beat as the scream cut off.
The door shuddered with piercing raps. Rezh spun around as Baby started crying. Rezh stuck his fingers into the little mouth. Baby began sucking on them for all he was worth. Claws grated down the door and the latch jiggled. The screams filled the halls. Evergrins had breached the vozhrith.
Rezh hurried to the window, but it was thick and not made to open. Even if he got outside, the evergrins would be out there, too. They’d catch anyone on foot. He’d need a kiderrin if he wished to escape. His door shuddered again. Bits of wood burst off its smooth surface.
What do I do? What do I do? Rezh looked wildly around and then remembered the window in the ceiling and the walkways beyond it. Rezh’s gaze followed the course of the fireplace. His first day awake here, he had assumed he could reach the window by the fireplace. It was time to test this theory.
He rolled Baby into a blanket and then tied Baby to his chest with a sheet. He stuffed Baby’s bottle, food, and clothes into the pouch. The door’s hinges loosened and a sharp, bony finger slid through a new crack in the door. It was yellow and covered in patches of dried skin.
Rezh stifled a scream and shoved the plants off the mantle. They crashed around his feet. He climbed onto the mantle. For a Kabrilor, the mantle was a little narrow, and Rezh had to press against the wall. He inched to his feet and jumped for a rafter several feet above his head. His claws gouged into it and he dangled over the room.
