by Davis Ashura
“Yes.”
“Do you wish you’d never gone to Sinskrill?” Selene asked. “That way you’d have never left them.” Her wide eyes held something akin to fear.
“I’ll always hate Sinskrill—nothing will change that,” Jake said, “but I’ll always love that I met you.” He smiled at her. “Nothing will change that, either.” He tugged on her hand. “Come on, tiny, let’s talk about something else.”
Selene grew quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Jake asked after a moment.
“Nothing,” she replied, her voice small.
“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing,’” Jake said. “It doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’ either.” He grinned,” he said. “Is it a boy?”
“No.”
“Then what?” He grinned wider. “A girl?”
Selene smiled briefly at his inane guesses before resuming her solemn expression. “I wish you never had to go to Sinskrill, and we could have met somewhere else.”
“Why?” Jake asked, genuinely curious. Sometimes her thoughts took an odd turn and presented a different way to view a situation.
“That way you wouldn’t have to be afraid all the time,” she answered.
Jake frowned, uncertain what she meant. “What makes you think I’m afraid?” He puffed out his chest. “I escaped from Sinskrill and fought off a dozen mahavans along the way. I’m not afraid of anything.”
Selene rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s afraid,” she said. “Even William.”
Jake’s attention caught on her last observation. “You think William is braver than me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Selene said, “but he’s going back to save Fiona and Travail.”
Jake started to understand some of what she meant. “And you think I’m not because I’m afraid?”
Selene nodded.
“I’m not going because William is the better warrior,” he explained. “He’s a lot more powerful. I’m staying because we don’t want to put both of our new raha’asras at risk. It’s the only way the Village Council will let either of us go.”
“Would you go back to Sinskrill if you could?” Selene asked.
“I’d do whatever needs to be done, even if I didn’t want to.”
“Then you’re not afraid all the time?”
Jake smiled in amusement. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, tiny, but I try not to let it keep me from doing what’s right.”
“Jessira says that’s the difference between courage and cowardice,” Selene said.
They reached the edge of the Village Green, and the glory of the escarpment spread out before them. The terraces, the cascades, River Namaste reforming midway down the cliff and meandering along a red-rock canyon, and the wild Pacific Ocean.
All of it shimmered like a fantastical dream.
“You know, if we’d never met,” Jake said, “you’d have never escaped Sinskrill, and all this would never have been yours.”
Selene cocked her head as if in thought before frowning again.
Jake sighed. “What now?”
“William is coming over for dinner tonight,” Selene said. “I wish he wouldn’t stay mad at Serena. I don’t think he wants to be, but he can’t help it.”
“I’m still mad at Serena,” Jake announced.
“But she’s not in love with you.”
Jake choked. “You think Serena loves William?”
“I’ve seen how she looks at him,” Selene said. She aped a ridiculously longing expression.
Jake barked laughter. “Where are you learning this stuff?”
“Books.”
“What kind of books?” Jake asked with a confused smile.
“The library has an entire shelf of something called Harlequin novels,” Selene answered.
Jake groaned. “We’ve got to get you more age-appropriate reading material.”
William walked the leaf-canopied path leading to Serena’s cottage with a sense of trepidation.
Twilight dimmed the world and burnished Arylyn’s sky, but the beauty did nothing to quell his nerves. Had he made a mistake in accepting Serena’s invitation for dinner? His feelings toward her remained as knotted as ever, but what bothered him most was the fear of getting hurt again.
He stepped out from beneath the shade of trees and jungle and paused at the edge of her property. The sun had passed below the horizon, and the vivid pinks and purples painting the sky slowly faded. Darkness encroached as if the world slowly closed its eyes. Waves washed against the pencil-thin shore of the lagoon, and warm golden light streamed out from the windows of Serena’s cottage. A delicious aroma wafted on the breeze, mixing with the fruity aromas of her flowers.
William smiled in appreciation.
“Are you smiling because of the flowers, the food, or something else?” Serena asked from the front porch.
William hadn’t noticed her until then. She stood, shy and proud at the same time, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her sundress clung to her lean form. Or notice her toned, tanned arms and legs.
He feigned a cough, covering his mouth as he bent his head. He hoped the encroaching darkness and his fist hid his blush. “I’m smiling because of both,” he answered. “The flowers are beautiful, and the food smells great.”
“Sile Troy has been teaching me to farm,” Serena explained, “but what I know about gardening came from my mother.”
William knew she meant her birth mother, Cinnamon, the woman whose heart had remained pure amidst the soul-crushing evil of Sinskrill.
“I remember so much about her,” Serena said, softly and with a face full of grief, “but I wish I could forget some things.”
William empathized with Serena, at what she’d endured, and what Sinskrill had done to her. He wondered who she might have become if she’d been raised in a better place.
“Mr. Zeus could help you with that,” he said.
“Like he took care of your nightmares?” Serena asked.
“You know about that?” William asked in surprise.
Serena nodded. “I’m not a hermit,” she said. “I hear things.”
“You never made much of a hermit,” William said. “You don’t have the right looks for one.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
“Nothing, which is what I meant when I said you don’t look like a hermit,” William replied.
“In that case, come on in,” Serena said with a grin. “The food’s out back. Your—what do I call her? She’s not your Isha.” Serena frowned for an instant before shrugging. “Anyway, Ms. Sioned gave me some new recipes. I hope you like them.”
“Ms. Sioned is my teacher.”
“Teacher sounds better,” Serena agreed, and William followed her through the small cottage into the courtyard in the back.
A stacked-stone wall enclosed a square courtyard floored with pale-pink cobblestones and a slim, curving lawn. Various potted plants lay scattered about, and hooded blue lanterns softly illuminated the space. Unlit strands of lights ran from each corner of the courtyard to a flowering mape tree, a Polynesian chestnut. Its evergreen leaves held fragrant, white blossoms. The aroma mixed with the smell of something savory.
“Watch this.” Serena sourced her lorethasra, and the smell of mint lifted off her. She reached for Fire and drew out a slender thread, elegant and controlled. It pooled in her hands, and with a flick of her wrist she sent it whipping through the branches of the mape tree and along the lines of unlit lights. They bloomed to life and cast the courtyard in a brighter, yet more ethereal glow.
William inhaled sharply at the beauty of the place. “It’s lovely.”
“Wait until ivy covers the walls,” Serena said. “Sit down.” She gestured to a long table with a set of benches on each side. It held several platters: herb-crusted chicken, arugula with spiced walnuts and raspberry dressing, and bacon-wrapped asparagus on a bed of risotto.
William inhaled deeply again. “Smells delicious,” he said, taking a seat.
“You’re thinking of Jason.”
“You, too,” Serena says. “Ever since . . .”
She stumbled to a stop, but William knew what she didn’t want to say. Ever since Sinskrill. A tension touched off between them.
“Where’s Selene?” William asked, hoping to break the brittleness.
“At a friend’s house.”
“It’s just the two of us?”
“If you can stand it.”
“I can stand it,” he said, hoping the part of him that wanted to forgive her would finally kill the part that remained angry.
“Want something to drink?” Serena asked.
“Sure,” he said. He shifted beneath the intensity of her gaze, the intensity he thought he’d grown accustomed to.
She passed him a glass of iced water.
“How do you grow the flowers here?” he asked.
“It’s not easy,” Serena said. “I have to leach the salt out of the soil or the plants won’t grow.”
“And you really plan on becoming a farmer?” he asked.
Serena smiled at him, and an old memory came to William. He remembered her frequent smiles of hidden amusement. He hadn’t seen it in a long time, and he realized how much he missed it. But then again, Serena had changed so much. She wasn’t the same woman he’d known in Cincinnati and Sinskrill.
“I never thought that’s what I would end up doing,” Serena said. “I mean, I was raised to be a mahavan, a warrior of Sinskrill. But farming is so much more fulfilling. I get to grow things, feed people. I get to create beauty.”
“Mr. Zeus says the act of creation is the way we know God has touched us,” William said. “He says it’s the Creator’s mark, the way we reflect His glory.”
Serena tilted her head in thought, much like Selene sometimes did. “That sounds about right.”
WINTER GAMES
December 1987
* * *
Serena tightened the laces on her shoes and watched as the last few minutes of an enrune game wound down. The sun beat down on a morning that had dawned unusually humid, and a sheen of sweat beaded on her forehead. The once-lovely weather had grown hot and uncomfortable as Arylyn’s warm season took hold. According to the locals, it thankfully only lasted about a month.
The game ended when Lien scored a full goal. “Victory before dishonor!” she shouted in triumph.
Serena grinned.
Lien’s diminutive stature hid the heart of a dragon. She hated losing. It didn’t matter what the game was, enrune, euchre, or horseshoes, Lien wanted to finish first. Such a contrast to her laid-back behavior in the Far Beyond.
Then again, Arylyn had a way of changing a person.
Serena only had to think of her little sister to see it more clearly. The quiet, fearful child Serena had known on Sinskrill had transformed into a young girl who held far greater confidence. Selene could even be assertive at times.
The players from the just-finished game were still drifting off the pitch when William arrived.
Serena waved to get his attention. “Glad you decided to come.”
“You know, we’ve been here six months, and I don’t think I’ve ever stepped onto an enrune field,” he said.
“Really?” Serena hadn’t known. “You sure you’re up for this, then?” She tried to keep the doubt out of her voice. If she’d known he was such a newbie, she wouldn’t have asked him to go against such experienced players.
“I’ll be fine,” William said, sounding too sure of himself.
“It’s not only forming the braids but using them,” Serena reminded him. “And using them fast.”
“Not a problem,” William said.
Serena shrugged. They’d soon find out if his words were merely bravado.
Lien sauntered over and smirked at William. “I hope you brought your running shoes.”
He smirked right back. “You think anyone here can actually keep up with me? You can’t. We already know that.”
Lien rolled her eyes. “You’re fast and strong,” she said, “but wait until someone dumps you on your butt. Talk to me then about how fast you are.”
“He’ll be fine,” Serena said. She felt protective toward William. After all, he would be on her team, and she didn’t want him doubting himself and having them lose as a result. In the end, she was every bit as competitive as Lien.
“We’ll see,” Lien said. “You better get out there if you want to play. I’m reffing.”
William stood up and offered a hand to help Serena rise.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Let’s go kick some ass.”
William jogged to his position on defense. A whistle blew, and the game started. An opposing forward flung the woda toward William. A braid of Air and Fire accelerated the ball. It whistled toward his head. Serena shouted in alarm. The woda would strike him—
William brought up a braid of Air quicker than she could have managed. He deflected the woda to their center safety, who passed it on to Karla Logan, one of their guards. She sprinted down the sideline. A tremor tripped Karla, and she stumbled.
The woda slipped out of her control, and Samuel Dillon, an opposing halfback, grabbed the woda. The half goal stood open, and Samuel might have scored; but Serena was there. She intercepted the woda. William, who should have remained on defense, ran alongside her.
“Stay in position!” one of the forwards yelled at William. “You’re on defense.”
Chastened, William pulled back and soon lost himself in the ebb and flow of the game. He chased the woda, and occasionally tackled or tripped the players of the other team. He received blows as well. One particularly hard one smacked into his calf, and he slammed to the ground.
His leg ached, hurting all the way to the bone, and it took him a second to lever himself upright. Unfortunately, the fall left him out of position, and the other team scored an easy full goal.
“Dammit!” William smacked the turf. He hobbled back to position and did his best to disregard his throbbing calf. The blow had already started to bruise.
“You need to stay alert,” Dwight Karl, their center halfback, yelled at him. He’d yelled at William the whole game.
“Go to hell!” William shouted back. “I was alert.”
Dwight stepped toward him with a glower.
William clenched his jaw, squared his shoulders, and faced Dwight with a stomach full of fire.
Serena stepped between them. “Step back,” she said to both of them in a voice as cold as frozen steel. “We need a full goal to win. Get to your positions and stop screwing around.”
William glared a moment longer at Dwight before stalking away. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. What he did know was that there was no way in hell he would lose his first game of enrune. His team would win no matter what it took.
William gritted his teeth, the game resumed, and Jerry Kind, the opposition right forward—the same dickhead who’d clubbed his leg—stole the woda. He ran down the pitch.
William raced to cut him off.
Jerry tried the same spin move he’d used a few minutes before.
Not this time. William hammered to a stop. A bar of Air at the ankles felled Jerry in a heap. William snatched the woda out of the Air.
Players from the other team moved to intercept, and William juked past them. He spun out of a tackle, dribbling as needed.
No thread touched him. He moved too fast. The way to the goal was clear. The full goalie shuffled his feet, trying to keep William in front of him.
William picked up speed. His vision focused. There was no rule against what he was about to try. He drained the lorasra between him and the full goalie and kept on coming. From twenty-five feet out, he flung the woda. It shot toward the top right corner of the goal.
Normally, the full goalie should have easily been able to deflect the shot.
But only if he had access
to lorasra.
William’s shot went straight in.
“That’s cheating!” the goalie thundered. “You drained the lorasra.”
“There’s no rule that says I can’t,” William countered.
“Because no one can do it. Goddamn raha’asras shouldn’t be allowed to play,” the goalie fumed.
Both teams stood in the center of the pitch, arguing over whether William’s goal should count.
Lien, as the referee, decided on the validity of William’s play. “If there isn’t a rule against it, then it’s not illegal.”
The other team grumbled and glowered, but eventually accepted her decision.
“That trick won’t work twice,” the full goalie shouted.
“It only had to work once,” William shouted back.
Seconds later, the game ended with William’s side the victor.
The two teams shared the customary handshakes, although a few of the players from the opposing side still shot William dark glares. Afterward, he took a seat on one of the bleachers. His calf still ached from the rapidly worsening bruise.
Serena plopped next to him. “Let me,” she said. She put her hands on his bruised calf and sourced her lorethasra, and the scent of mint floated. She wove Spirit, Fire, Earth, and Water and sent the braid into his muscles.
He sighed in appreciation. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve got a much gentler touch than Fiona.”
“You’re welcome,” Serena said.
Her hands remained on his leg a few more seconds as she poured out her healing braid.
For reasons he didn’t understand, he reached out with his Spirit and touched hers. She didn’t sever the connection this time. Instead, she stared at him with her disconcertingly direct and intense eyes.
Once again, he sensed the bone-deep regret she felt for what she’d done to him.
After everything they’d been through, how could he remain angry with her?
“Thank you for being a friend,” he said, and for the first time since she’d betrayed him, he felt at peace in her presence.
Later in the evening, William stood on the front porch of Mr. Zeus’ house alongside Jake and Jason and breathed in the cool weather. The lights were turned low, and the overhead fans slowly swirled. Unusual for the three of them, they spoke softly. None of them wanted to break the magical moment. An afternoon storm had lingered until well past sunset and broken the oppressive humidity. A trade wind blew, cool and relaxing.
