by Mara Duryea
He pressed his face into Sibare’s wild hair. The snow weighing it down had melted. He smelled like the Blue Bush. He was warm and alive. The wounds he’d suffered in Bellecaro had disappeared. Sibare was tough and brave, always willing to go first, but right now, he was Zhin’s baby. The Berivor held onto him, basking in this brief moment of bliss. He had missed Sibare’s babyhood, but it hadn’t gone completely, as if it needed to catch up on the missing years.
“Dad!” Vijeren’s voice cried.
Zhin looked up. Miranel and Rilkin were speeding towards him. The Antiminar held the pallid Vijeren in his arms. They had heard the commotion of the closing gate and had come to investigate. Only now had they found the way into the small enclosure.
“What happened to Vijeren?” Zhin cried.
Gilanra quickly explained the blood transfusion she had performed between Vijeren and Sibare. “I’ll do another one.”
Zhin let out a relieved breath. “Okay.”
The three threw themselves into Zhin’s arms among the Kabrilors, Sibare, and N’Nar. Miranel climbed on his shoulder and covered his face in tiny kisses. Vijeren wrapped his arms about Zhin’s neck and rested his head against him.
It wasn’t often that Zhin was on the receiving end. He wanted to tell his family he was all right and to let him up, but he couldn’t, not after what he’d endured with Vijeren. Not now, when he still wished to embrace Sibare. He let them hold and kiss him, let their tears dampen his shirt. Even though many people feared and shunned him, he was precious to this handful. Indeed, who needed the acceptance of the world when there was such love to be had?
Seldom did he see Sibare cry. The tears ran pure and clear. Kissing his head, Zhin whispered, “It’s all right. I’m okay.” And you’re okay. Gutless awiks, you’re okay. He rested his head on Vijeren’s as he patted N’Nar’s back. No Kabrilor could hope to have such courageous sons as his Metirin ones. Nobody.
Zhin’s stomach growled, interrupting the joyous reunion. His family eyed his stomach, and he smiled. “I’m hungry.”
Gilanra laughed and wiped her eyes. “I have food in the kiderrin bags.”
“Let him up,” said Rindar. Everyone parted, and the Miricor pulled Zhin to his feet. He plucked Miranel from Zhin’s head and plopped her into Gilanra’s hands. The two beamed at one another. From that moment on, they were friends. Rindar lifted Vijeren from Zhin. “I hold you now.”
“Okay,” said Vijeren, gazing into those brilliant green eyes. He recognized them from his dad’s stories. He was filled with reverence for the Miricor, but giddy at the same time. As for Rindar, this boy could have been Zhin, only this child wasn’t like a little flame. He was a little light.
Zhin kept hold of Sibare. As the ever-growing family headed out of the little enclosure, Zhin squeezed Gilanra’s hand. The Syladin perched Miranel on her shoulder and she hooked her arm into his.
“I’m all right, Mom,” Zhin said.
“Out of all you’ve done,” said Gilanra, “this has scared me the most. Don’t you ever do that to me again.” Her voice cracked. Miranel’s tiny hands patted her head.
Zhin wrapped his arm around her. Her aura seeped into his very bones and embraced every cell. It was like a cool spring breeze, bearing hope and freedom. It was the rush of wind on a racing kiderrin and the swell of air beneath powerful wings. It dispelled the horrors of his night and turned his ordeal with Sizhirin into a distant memory. He felt like a child who’d had a bad day, but now that he’d come home, he was safe from it and didn’t think about it anymore, because it couldn’t get him.
“How did you get here?” said Zhin. “How did all of you meet?”
Gilanra reiterated the circumstances of their meeting and how they’d found Zhin. The Berivor was silent. It was nice to hear the story instead of telling it all the time. They reached the kiderrins. The Kabrilors set the Metirins down on a slab of rock. Gilanra ushered N’Nar and Rilkin to sit with them, for she was going to start healing them one at a time.
As Terros and Rindar removed the food from their packs, Zhin brought Rezh to them.
“Vijeren, Miranel,” said Zhin, “this is my dad. Dad, this is my son Vijeren and his Ash Child, Miranel. You already know Sibare and N’Nar.”
Rezh smiled at Sibare and N’Nar as he nodded.
“Rilkin’s my daddy,” said Miranel happily.
Zhin glanced at his brother, who just beamed.
The amber-eyed Berivor knelt before the two Metirins and touched their faces. It was uncanny. Vijeren was Zhin all over again. As for the little girl, she was as cute as Rilkin had been. He wanted to put her in his pocket.
The Berivor was not an Iskerkin, and yet he possessed an aura of his own. It was gentle and fierce, and warm like a comforting blanket. Who could have known the nightmares he’d endured? Perhaps it was this that earned him the right to be Zhin and Rilkin’s father, and Gilanra’s husband. Now he belonged to these Metirins, too.
“Hi, Grampa,” they both said.
Rezh smiled. “Hello.”
11
One More Story
“I know it’s getting late,” said Terros, “but I say we just get out of here. We can camp on the edge of the ruins. The haladon’s dead and the scavengers will come. That’ll alert other predators, and they’ll find out this place is open.”
They were gathered in the shade of a pillar beside the canal. It was near the place where Miranel had discovered Zhin after he’d confessed to his orilas blood.
Gilanra had just finished healing everyone and doing more blood transfusions. She dozed in a fat golden flower. Its petals lessened the muggy heat of the day. She had tied up her blue hair so she could feel the petals against her neck. Zhin and Rilkin had gotten new clothes: cream-colored leypel pants and white shirts. Vijeren, N’Nar, Miranel, and Sibare would remain in their red vozhrith robes for a while. The Sivarin armor was packed on the kiderrins. Everyone had bathed in the river, and felt pretty good.
“I say we go,” said Zhin. “I’m sick of this place.”
“I don’t want to go,” said Ikalkor. “I want to go back to Bellecaro.” And with that, he meandered off.
“Who’s that Cubon riding with, anyway?” said Terros.
“Zhin and the babies riding with me,” said Rindar quickly.
“Gilanra and I are already sharing,” said Rezh. “We’re taking Rilkin and Miranel with us.”
Terros’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “Ikalkor’s greasy butt is not touching my kiderrin. He better wash. I’m not an awik, but he smells like raw Cubon. My kiderrin won’t make it to the train station alive. He’s probably the one who gave Zhin’s kiderrin worms. Incidentally, Rilkin, where’s your kiderrin?”
“It blew up.”
Terros looked at Rindar as if it proved his point.
“We catch him and throw him in the river,” said Rindar. “Rezh, ask Gilanra what she thinks of leaving now.” Taking their hammers, the two marched towards Ikalkor as if going to battle.
Rezh nudged Gilanra awake and put the question to her.
“As long as I get to sleep, I don’t care,” she said.
Miranel tugged Gilanra’s skirt. “Gramma, can you make my hair like yours?”
The Syladin yawned and sat up. She touched Miranel’s curls. “This minamee is feral. Turn around. I’ll make your hair like mine.”
Zhin glanced at Rilkin and knew he desired to speak with Rezh and Gilanra. Standing up, he headed in a random direction. His three sons followed.
“How are your eyes, Sibare?” said Zhin.
“They feel good.” He looked up at the Berivor. “I had to find you. I’d do it again.”
Zhin rested his hand around Sibare’s shoulders. “I’m glad you did. I’ll try to be more careful so you don’t kill yourself, though.”
Sibare grasped Zhin’s belt. “I think it was because you’re half orilas that you survived in there.”
The Berivor recalled his last fight with Sizhirin. He still wasn’t sure if he
’d been right in conjuring his monster side, but… “You’re right.”
Vijeren’s hand circled the belt on his other side. Zhin glanced from one child to the other, and caught N’Nar gazing at his hands.
“I’m all right,” said Zhin. “My claws will grow back. Your gramma healed me, so it doesn’t hurt.”
Vijeren leaned his head against Zhin for answer. The Berivor pulled him close.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Zhin. “This Cubon sometimes happens. I’m okay. I’ve closed three gates before this.”
“Okay,” Vijeren whispered, but kept hold on Zhin’s belt just the same.
Rilkin observed them a moment. It was sickening to think of something being able to hurt his brother. He often forgot Zhin wasn’t indestructible. He would forget again. One day, Rilkin would regale his children and grandchildren of how their uncle, his big brother, had gloriously closed the Midnight Gate on the accursed Sizhirin.
Rezh, who had steadily watched his small son, now asked, “What is it?”
Rilkin combed the end of his tail. “Can I talk to you and Mom?”
Gilanra glanced up as she twisted a scarf into Miranel’s hair. It had been wrapped around her waist.
“Yeah,” said Rezh.
“While we out here,” said Rilkin, “I suddenly remember everything.”
The pair said nothing, but their ears pricked.
“I not know why until I know the gate closed.” Rilkin took a breath. “I lived in one big white house. Is just me and my parents. Then one day, N’Nar come in the mail. His mom sent him to Aralia and say my dad take care of him. My mom upset, and she leave, but she not take me with her.” Rilkin clutched his tail. “Medicine Makers somehow find out N’Nar is one Terlithin. They tried for to get him. My dad hide from them, but they kept coming, like they knew where he was. So one day, my dad send N’Nar back to his mother on one ship.”
Rilkin took a shuddering breath. “After N’Nar gone, the Medicine Makers come again. They catch me playing outside. They tie up my dad and torture me to make him tell where N’Nar is. He had to choose which one to save.”
“And then?” Gilanra asked softly, recalling her son’s broken arm and burned feet.
Rilkin’s mouth worked. “My dad chose N’Nar to save. The Medicine Makers take me outside and give me to Sizhirin. He could hear me screaming, but he not come in to save me like he said. He wanted my dad to reject me so that I choose Sizhirin. My dad rejected me.” He raised his eyes to Rezh’s. “And then you chose me.” He turned to Gilanra. “And you not leave, not like her. You come for me.”
Gilanra took Rilkin’s face in her hands. “Minamee…” She gathered Rilkin to her breast as Rezh wrapped his arms around them both. Rilkin rested his head on Gilanra’s shoulder as he hooked his arm around Rezh’s as far as it would go. Miranel snuggled in among them so she could catch their sunshine, too. Rilkin kissed her head. He’d survived a nightmare that could have consumed him. He shuddered at what might have been. His baby could have gone to another.
“I not have to go back, do I?” said Rilkin, remembering Rezh’s words all those years ago. He would stay with them until he remembered.
Rezh smiled. “I’m sorry, Rilkin, but you’re not allowed to anymore.”
Rilkin hugged them tighter.
“Do you remember what your name was?” said Gilanra.
“Oradin, but I like Rilkin better.”
12
Iskerkin Heart
Ikalkor’s shriek carried down the river, and everyone turned to see Rindar and Terros herding the grimy Ikalkor towards the water. They shoved him in with the butts of their hammers. Terros threw several blue leaves at him.
“I’ll never be the same again,” Ikalkor wailed, as he began scrubbing his pits.
“Good!” Terros snapped. “You better scrape off that grime!”
Vijeren hurried to witness the spectacle. “It’ll come off?”
“It better,” said Rindar.
“Cruel, cruel, cruel!” Ikalkor screamed.
“Quit defending your parasites,” called Sibare.
Ikalkor threw his head back and shook it. “Where are my parents?”
“Jail,” said Terros.
“What injustice is this?”
“I threw them in.”
“Oh!”
Gilanra had brought him new clothes, too. She now set them aside. With an utter look of disgust, she lifted Ikalkor’s greening apparel with a long stick and went in search of a place to deposit them.
“Let’s see if it kills flowers,” said Sibare.
Miranel, who had followed Gilanra, put her hands up to him. “I want to see!”
Swinging her on his back, Sibare and N’Nar jogged after Gilanra. Rilkin decided to stay and see if any fish floated to the river’s surface belly up.
As for Zhin, he strolled upriver a little, sat down, and dunked his feet in the water. He stared at the waterfall, and then his eyes traced the mountain where Vijeren had fought Karijin. He remembered how Miranel had felt a tug similar to his own, which was why he’d let her run out. It wasn’t like an orilas’s tug, so she didn’t feel it constantly. Unlike an orilas, she didn’t have the need to keep her tug a secret.
When N’Nar had finally sensed Vijeren and Karijin’s souls, Zhin’s emotions and nerves had been utterly wrecked. He still didn’t feel right, but it was better now that his parents, grandpa, and uncle were here. They lifted the bulk of his burdens off his shoulders.
“How are you, Zhin?” said Rezh, sitting beside him. “You haven’t said much about yourself.”
Zhin scratched his ear. “Just feeling like I want to sleep for a week.”
Rezh tapped his temple. “And how are you up here?”
The younger Berivor rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. Did I do right in there?”
“What do you mean?”
“I…I fought him as an orilas. I became a monster for a few minutes so I could knock him down. It…” Zhin sucked his lips in. “It felt good.”
Rezh bowed his head in thought. “I saw.”
Zhin pulled at his ear in shame and horror. He’d never intended his dad to see him like that. He thought of how he’d killed the paveenie—or murdered it, to use Sibare’s word. Could it be possible for him to completely lose it?
Rezh caught his wrist, pulled it from his ear, and lifted his son’s chin. “Zhin, look at me. You’re half orilas. If you weren’t, Sizhirin would have gotten you. You said he had a Kosalin spider in there. It tells me he’s killed Iskerkin before.” He held Zhin’s face in his hand. “He took you as a child, and it was your tug that woke you up and led you back to me.
“It was the orilas strength that enabled you to get up and escape that house. It kept you from dying in Bellecaro when others would have succumbed. It helped you fight a Nri Kryne single-handedly and live. It helped you battle the orilas on the ship after everyone else had been shredded to pieces.
“It got you through the Child City. It was there again when you knocked the Renzhie down. You disabled him enough for me, your uncle, and your grampa to pin him down. If ever a creature needed to be attacked by an orilas, it was him.
“Your curse has become your blessing because of what you chose to do with it.”
Zhin forced his mouth not to fall open. “Wherever I’ve been, I’ve always felt you there because of the tug. I felt you come. That’s why I got up. He’d knocked me down. You’re the blessing to my curse.”
Rezh pulled Zhin’s head against his own. “And you’re the blessing to mine.”
They fell silent, listening to Ikalkor’s incessant howls. He had scared all the fat birds away.
Zhin’s eyes traced the waterfall once more. “I left Vaylania to investigate a Kabrilor/Metirin problem, and now I’ve found my family. A part of them, anyway. Karijin, Sizhirin, and Azhanya are all dead. I didn’t know what I was coming to.”
Rezh was quiet in contemplation, and then he said, “None of us do. Only when we look back
, we can see the thread that leads us on.”
“I’m too tired to piece it all together.”
“Don’t try now.”
“I feel like I’ve woken up from a nightmare.” Zhin took a breath and gently kicked his feet. “This never would have been if Sizhirin hadn’t fallen.”
Rezh gazed at his son a moment. “Do you ever regret it, Zhin? Do you ever find yourself wishing Sizhirin hadn’t fallen, and that you were speaking to him now, instead of me?”
Zhin observed the water sliding over his feet. “Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, but never once do I regret it.”
“Why?”
“Because when I think of Sizhirin being here instead of you, it’s not regret. It’s dread. Since I was little, I’d sometimes think, what if you weren’t there? I could hardly stand the thought. And for the time I thought you weren’t there… I’d never endured such agony. When you came and turned Sizhirin to jelly, I was so happy I couldn’t breathe. I can’t even express it now.” Zhin held his gaze. “No, Dad, I never regret that it’s you here instead of Sizhirin. I couldn’t have it any other way. The memory I have of him is a fleeting dream.”
Rezh’s lower lip trembled, and he turned his moist eyes to the roaring waterfall. What could have been, had Sizhirin and Karijin not fallen? Would the orilas have killed him? Or was Zhin always meant to be his, whether Sizhirin fell or not? Would they have all been together in a place where the nightmares Sizhirin had inflicted would never have existed? His own mother wouldn’t have been in some unknown haunt he could never find.
Ikalkor’s wails finally silenced, and little birds twittered among the ruined walls, drinking in the nectar of the golden flowers. Some flitted so close Rezh could have touched them. A thought distilled on him like a small sunbeam, and he voiced it aloud:
“Whatever could have been, the nightmare that had taken its place is conquered.”
