by Davis Ashura
“And I only want to . . .” William’s voice trailed off.
“You want to what?”
William almost spoke the truth, but at the last instant he folded it up and put it away like a spare blanket. Jake wouldn’t understand. Or worse, maybe Jake would understand.
William wanted to see Sinskrill burn, to see every building torn down, and feel it when he threw the Servitor to his death off the Judging Line. But a guilt-ridden reluctance kept him from speaking the entire truth.
“I want to go back and free Travail and Fiona,” William said at last.
Jake sat up further in his bed. “You still stuck on that notion?”
William’s brows rose at Jake’s questioning tone. “You’re not?”
Jake shifted, and an uneasy expression flitted across his features. “I want to save them, too.” He looked down and picked at his comforter, clearly nervous. “They saved us, but I don’t want to go back to Sinskrill.” He lifted his gaze and stared William in the eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”
William took in Jake’s words, which merely reflected his own sentiments. He didn’t want to go back to Sinskrill either, but he had to. Without Travail and Fiona, he and Jake would have died. He owed them, and he couldn’t allow them to remain enslaved.
“Probably think I’m a wimp, don’t you?” Jake asked, going back to picking at his comforter.
William shook his head. “No. I understand what you’re saying.” For a moment, his earlier terrified thoughts reared back to life. Sometimes they got mixed up with the nightmare of Kohl Obsidian murdering his family, and he grimaced.
He wondered anew if he should ask Mr. Zeus to remove some of his memories. But not the ones about Sinskrill.
Jake bowed his head. “I owe Fiona and Travail, too,” he whispered.
“You shouldn’t go if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, I should,” Jake said. He raised his gaze once again. “What about Rukh and Jessira? Are they still planning on going with us?”
William nodded. “Yeah, but they have their own reasons for helping us.”
“Like what?”
William shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“And Mr. Zeus? Have you talked to him about it?” Jake asked. “About rebuilding Blue Sky Dreams? Or Serena’s part in what you want to do?”
William shook his head. “Not yet, but I will. Serena can’t leave Arylyn, but we’ll need her help navigating Sinskrill’s coast.”
“Mr. Zeus and the others managed that on their own,” Jake noted.
“They got lucky. The mahavans, and maybe the unformed are bound to be watching the coast from now on. We need her to tell us the most secluded places there, the ones least likely to be guarded.”
Jake eyed him askance, his doubt obvious. “They’ll still be watched,” he said. “You have to come up with a better way of sneaking onto the island than that.”
“I’ll figure it out,” William said, hoping his words would turn out to be true.
Serena sensed a presence looming over her and she sat up, alert and ready with her lorethasra sourced. Old habits died hard. A month since escaping Sinskrill and she retained the ingrained vigilance impressed upon her by Isha.
She searched for who might be standing before her and found a slight figure at the foot of her bed.
Selene.
Serena’s nerves quieted, and she offered up a silent prayer for patience. While she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, sleep would have to wait until she found out what Selene needed. Serena patted the mattress, offering a place for her sister to sit. “Why are you still awake?” she asked once Selene settled onto the bed.
Selene didn’t answer at first, but through long experience, Serena knew eventually she would. In this, even more than their dark skin and hair—in the Far Beyond, the two of them would have been thought to be Brazilian—they shared certain traits, such as speaking only when ready.
A stray breeze billowed the lacy curtains of the room’s single window, puffing them out so they appeared like inflated cheeks. The light of the half-moon shone on the edge of their cottage’s veranda and the nearby beach, which was golden during the day and ivory at night. The ocean waves gently washed against the shore.
Selene sat with her back to Serena and her head resting on bent knees. “I couldn’t sleep,” her sister finally answered, her voice muffled but obviously troubled.
“Bad dream?” Serena asked. She stroked Selene’s head and ran her fingers through the little girl’s dark mass of hair, an unthinkable gesture of affection on Sinskrill.
“No.”
Serena waited for her sister to explain herself, but Selene remained silent. “Then what?”
Selene sniffled and Serena stiffened, outraged by her sister’s demonstration of weakness. A harsh rebuke, one often spoken to her by Isha, leapt to her lips.
It died unspoken. They no longer resided on Sinskrill or lived beneath the hobnailed boot heels of mahavan culture. Sorrow, gladness, regret, love . . . all emotions were freely expressed on Arylyn. Expected, actually.
Serena’s sniffles faded away. “I hate it here,” her little sister finally declared, speaking in passion and anger.
“What happened?”
“Everyone makes fun of me.”
“Is it so different from your life on Sinskrill?” Serena asked, continuing to stroke her sister’s head.
“It is different,” Selene insisted. “No one on Sinskrill liked anyone. I wasn’t different. Here, we’re supposed to have family and be friends with everyone, but it’s not true. Arylyn is a lie.”
“No one can be friends with everyone.”
“Friends with someone, then. No one likes me.” Selene sniffled again.
Serena pulled Selene close, loving how good it felt to give her sister all the affection and love she’d longed to offer but couldn’t during their years on Sinskrill. “Are we not family?”
Selene snuggled against Serena. “Yes.”
“Are William and Jake not your friends? Your family, even?”
“Yes,” Selene said, sounding annoyed rather than mollified.
“Then what difference does it make if others don’t like you?”
“Because William and Jake are adults. None of the other children will play with me. They won’t even teach me the rules to their games.”
Serena hugged Selene tighter, aching for her sister’s pain. Empathy rose within her, an emotion deemed brittle and breakable on Sinskrill, a weakness that enemies could use to their advantage. Serena didn’t care. She’d rather soothe a little girl’s hurt than remain the hard, unyielding mahavan she had once been.
Then again, had she truly been hard or unyielding? Had she not all along wished to live a life of love and compassion? As much as she longed for a loving God?
“Is there anything I can do?” Serena whispered, her mouth pressed close to Selene’s ear.
Her sister shook her head. “Not you, but maybe William and Jake can.”
“What would you have them do?” Serena asked.
“I want them to set all those lying children’s pants on fire,” Selene explained. “They’re the ones everyone says should be my friends, but they’re not.” She paused and chewed her lip in apparent uncertainty. “Their parents will probably be mad, though.”
Serena laughed. “I’m sure they would be.”
“Or maybe I should ask Rukh and Jessira,” Selene mused.
Serena’s humor faded. “I told you to stay away from them.”
“But they’re nice,” Selene protested. “They talk to me.”
“About what?” Serena asked, her suspicious nature taking over.
“About you. Sinskrill. But mostly about how I like Arylyn.”
Serena grimaced. Rukh and Jessira. There was something wrong with those two. Not only the way they finished each other’s sentences, but something more integral to their natures. She didn’t trust them, or their avowed purpose of wanting to help free Travail and Fiona.<
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“I still don’t want you spending time with them,” Serena said.
“Yes, madam.”
Serena scowled at the unwelcome reminder of their relationship on Sinskrill. “Those are words from a life long past,” she reminded Selene. “You don’t have to speak to me like that anymore.”
“I do if you tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.”
Serena grimaced at Selene’s unassailable logic. “Just be careful around them.”
“I will,” Selene said.
They settled into silence, and Serena rocked Selene in her lap. “Are you still upset?” she asked after a time.
Selene shrugged. “No. I’m fine now.” Her voice held the dull affect of a drone, the tone meant to hide her true feelings.
Serena sighed. “I’ll talk to Mr. Zeus and find out what I can do.”
“Thank you,” Selene said.
“But I doubt he’ll approve of having William and Jason set a group of children’s pants on fire.”
Selene laughed. “It would be funny though, wouldn’t it?”
Serena chuckled. “Yes, it would.”
“Will you ever be friends with William and Jake?” Selene asked.
Serena kept her limbs loose, but inside she stiffened. She’d once been very good friends with William, and in another world they might have been much more.
You can still be friends with him. Even Jake, a voice whispered. Her conscience, maybe.
But that would require an apology to the two of them. To seek their forgiveness. To truly face what she’d done to them.
She didn’t have the heart for it.
Coward, the voice told her.
“Well? Will you?” Selene asked.
“Maybe someday,” Serena replied.
William woke up groggy-headed and sleepy-eyed, and he yawned mightily as he made his way down the stairs. The smell of freshly baked bread and something else cooking drew him like a magnet. He passed through the living room which, along with Mr. Zeus’ study, took up the front part of the house. The staircase leading upstairs split the two spaces. From there, he entered the dining room and kitchen, a single, open area filling the back of the house.
The last of his sleepiness dissipated when he saw and smelled the food laid out for breakfast: mangos and kiwi, an egg casserole, a plate of bacon, and a freshly baked loaf of bread. William’s mouth slipped open, and he had to wipe saliva from the corner of his lips.
Mr. Zeus, Jason, and Jake were already up, but no one had eaten yet. When home, the four of them always ate together. It was a tradition Mr. Zeus insisted upon.
Jason laughed when he saw William’s wolf-famished expression. “It’s like you’ve never seen food before,” he said. On Arylyn, Jason’s blond, California-surfer good looks mixed with Polynesian dark skin didn’t appear as remarkable as they did in the Far Beyond, the rest of the world. Although originally from Louisiana, Jason could have passed for a native born. Most here—just like on Sinskrill—had dark skin, hair, and eyes, similar to what Serena and Selene possessed.
Mr. Zeus smirked in a knowing fashion. “It’s his teenage brain,” he said. Mr. Zeus, also known as Odysseus Louis Crane III. An odd name for a sometimes baffling man. With his long, lustrous, white beard and twinkling blue eyes, Mr. Zeus bore an uncanny resemblance to Merlin or Gandalf or any wise, old wizard from myth. “All your teenage brains,” the old man added. “Help yourself.”
William didn’t need to be told twice. Neither did the other two. They all dug in. William got to the bread first and cut off a large slice. He slathered on plenty of butter. Next, he grabbed four or five strips of bacon, and scooped equal amounts of fruit and casserole onto his plate before sitting down at the kitchen table.
“Morning all,” William said after stuffing several mouthfuls of food into his mouth.
“Morning, yourself,” Jake said. He sat across from William, his all-American handsomeness equal in its own way to Jason’s more exotic good looks. “Took you long enough to wake up. Thought we’d have to start without you.”
A calling rooster outside interrupted William’s response.
“Any chance we can have rooster stew for dinner tonight?” Jake asked, his blue eyes shining with a hopeful expression.
“Woke you up, did he?” Mr. Zeus asked as he soaked a greasy skillet and a baking pan in the kitchen’s farmhouse sink. His tone didn’t contain much sympathy.
“I slept through it,” William said.
“Yet you still look like crap,” Jason noted.
“Smells like it, too,” Jake added.
“That’s your breath,” William replied.
Mr. Zeus set a skillet in the sink. “Same dream last night?”
“Pretty much,” William said.
Jake cleared his throat. “I told him to have Mr. Zeus, you know . . .” He wiggled his fingers.
“Erase bad thoughts?” Jason guessed.
Jake nodded.
“Then what’s with the finger wiggle?” Jason asked.
“It’s supposed to indicate magic.”
“It looked like you were trying to flick a booger,” Jason said.
“What? No, it didn’t,” Jake protested. “This is flicking a booger.” He pretended to reach into his nose.
“Gross!” Jason shouted.
William laughed.
Afterward, they settled down to the serious task of eating. Jake foolishly got up to get some OJ, and William and Jason scarfed down his bacon.
“Hey!” Jake protested.
“You snooze, you lose,” Jason said with a shameless grin. He emphasized his point by aiming a piece of bacon at Jake, who snatched it out of his hand.
“Or wave your food around like a dumbass.”
William laughed again, but stopped when Jake picked up his bread, licked it, and set it back down. William wordlessly passed the bread over to him and got himself another slice. He wisely took his plate with him while he did.
“You three,” Mr. Zeus shook his head in mock disbelief, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He sat down next to Jason with his own plate of food.
Jake made to reach for one of Mr. Zeus’ bacon slices.
“You’ll lose your hand if you even try,” Mr. Zeus said, not bothering to look up from his food.
Jake pulled back.
After breakfast, Mr. Zeus put the leftovers away while William cleaned the dishes and Jake and Jason dried them. It was a routine they’d fallen into since William and Jake had moved in with Mr. Zeus and Jason.
“When can I go home?” Jake asked while they worked.
Jason groaned. “Not this again.”
“Yes, this again,” Jake said, his tone waspish. “I want to see my family and let them know I’m alive.”
William empathized with how Jake felt. Had their roles been reversed, he’d have been every bit as desperate to get home.
“You know I’d let you go if the decision were mine,” Mr. Zeus said, “but it’s not. You also know what Arylyn’s Constitution states, and we can’t change it to suit our whims.”
“It’s not a whim,” William said. “In this case, the law happens to be stupid.”
“Didn’t you take the class on American Ethics?” Jason asked.
“Ethics shmethics,” William replied. “Arylyn’s Constitution doesn’t forbid Jake going home. It only says a magus has to be able to create a braid that prevents a normal from disclosing the truth about us. Mr. Zeus could do that for Jake.” He snapped his fingers. “Problem solved.”
“That’s not what the Constitution says,” Jason disagreed. “It says the magus who wants to speak to a normal about Arylyn is the one who has to be able to create the braid. It doesn’t say another magus can do the work for him.”
“I get that,” William said, “but the Constitution is wrong to require it, and we’re wrong to insist on it.”
“No, it isn’t,” Mr. Zeus disagreed. “The magus who wants to leave the island has to be able to create the braid. If
he or she can’t, it puts us all at risk.”
“But you could—”
“What if something happened to me in the Far Beyond?” Mr. Zeus asked. “What if I was injured? What would Jake do then? How would he protect Arylyn’s secrets?
William deflated. He hadn’t thought of that.
Several days later, Jake jogged alongside William up the main stairs of Cliff Spirit, all the way from the base to the top. Four hundred feet of climbing. Jake smiled when he heard Daniel and Jason wheezing as they struggled to keep up.
Jake felt nothing more than a slight burn in his thighs, and he certainly didn’t need to fall back. Instead, he ran alongside William, controlling his breathing as Travail had taught.
They eventually reached the aptly named Clifftop and slowed to a walk, taking a quick breather. Daniel and Jason stood hunched over with hands on knees while Jake stared out at his new home.
Roughly seven thousand people called Arylyn home, and most of them resided here in Lilith, the only settlement on the island. Five cliffs, one for each Element, soared from beach to sky and made up the village. Each one rose to roughly the same height, had a central stair—the Main Stairs—and contained a number of terraces. Upon them stood Lilith’s gorgeous homes and grounds. A single finger of River Namaste’s waters split each cliff and cascaded down as a set of misty, laddered waterfalls. Rainbows arched off the sea, and bridges that appeared fragile as glass, linked the various cliffs and terraces.
Jake never tired of the sight.
“Let’s pick up the pace,” William said, setting off again.
Jake kept up with him as they passed through the Village Green, a triangular promontory atop Cliff Spirit that jutted like the prow of a ship. Walkways fanned out from a centrally-placed gazebo which was surrounded by tall gardenias and flame trees. Low-lying, wrought-iron chains ran along the perimeter of the Green to prevent people from tumbling over the edge, but Jake reckoned someone drunk enough could probably still find the quicker way down.
They jogged through the flag-stoned streets of Clifftop, amidst tall, narrow buildings made of brick, stone, or both. They stood shuttered and quiet. With the sun nothing more than a rosy glow to the east, most Arylyners had yet to awaken.
