Sky Child

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Sky Child Page 16

by Brenner, T. M.


  There is very little light for me to see by, so I have to use my feet to feel for my next step. I see Chaff's room ahead, but not much light comes out of it. At least I can see where I am heading. I realize now that there was one part of my plan that I hadn't yet figured out: how do I search Chaff's room if Chaff is in it?

  If he puts out his glowing stick, I won't be able to see well enough to search his room. If I look into his room and his glowing stick is still lit, and he sees me, then I am dead. But I would rather he catch me than have to protect myself, killing him and dooming the Crag.

  As I get closer to Chaff's room, I hear the sound of snoring. The Sky Gods have smiled on me. I move around the corner, pull back the curtain, and look into his room. He is asleep, flat on his stomach. Next to him is a pitcher that is nearly empty. I can smell the beer inside it from many steps away. I am very lucky, because I know that people who drink too much beer sleep very deeply. I should be able to look through his room without waking him.

  I step inside, and the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like rotten food. As I move closer to Chaff, I realize that it's him that smells, and not something in the room. I try hard not to throw up, but I start gagging from the odor. I have to pinch my nose and breathe through my mouth just to get air inside me.

  I look around Chaff's room. It is the largest in the Crag by far. I see the table I sat at, with the big rocks that look like chairs. Further into the room is a space where Chaff hangs his clothes. He also has a set of shelves, with many odd things on it that I have never seen before. Some of them are made out of metal, while others look like they are made from some shiny and brightly colored... stuff.

  I pick up one of the shiny objects, and I am able to bend it in my hand. It seems strong, almost like metal, but it is lightweight. I wonder what this strange thing is. It looks like a handle, with some sort of flat spoon at the end, but it wouldn't work at all as a spoon, because it has slots in it.

  I resist the urge to take it with me, and instead I keep looking. I try to look for an object that could hold things. There are only a few objects that look like they might.

  The first object I try seems like it's made out of the same stuff that some of our bowls are made out of. It's shiny, and has an odd blue creature on it with a pair of large white eyes. The creature looks like it is holding a light brown circle of food up to its mouth. The food has dark brown spots on it. I have absolutely no idea what it is. I pick the creature up off of the top of the object and look inside, but I find nothing.

  I hear a loud noise and jump, but I realize it's just a change in Chaff's snoring. It startles me so badly that it takes me a moment to catch my breath.

  The next thing I look at is a box made of metal. It has a red handle that is made from the same stuff that the flat spoon thing was made out of. On the outside of the box is an image of a man standing next to what looks like some large evil creature with a long, sideways red eye.

  I open up the box and inside is a smaller, round container. I shake it, and there doesn't seem to be anything inside. I can't easily remove the top of this container, so I twist it, trying to force it off. As I twist, it loosens. I keep twisting, and it finally comes apart. Inside, just like the metal box, it is empty.

  The last box I check is just that: a box. It is brown and made of wood, and has many small shapes on it. I try to find a lid, but it doesn't seem to have one. I shake it, but it does not open. I twist it, but still, nothing happens. Just as I am about to give up, my thumb moves a piece of wood on one of the sides.

  I try pulling on the piece, but it won't move. It only slides back and forth. I leave it pulled out, and check the box for other pieces to move. After playing with the box for a while, I find another piece that slides. I pull it all the way out too. The next piece I find is by the first piece that moved. Even with many pieces pulled out, I can't get it to open.

  I start to get frustrated and accidentally drop the box. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I turn my head to see if Chaff is awake. Thankfully, he is still asleep on his mat.

  I pick up the box, and the entire side of the box with the first moving piece slides down. I can see that the top of the box could pull out, if the side that slid down could move down even further. I try moving more of the side, but only the pair of pieces can move.

  It takes me a while to realize that maybe the pieces shouldn't be pulled out all the way. That maybe they only need to be pulled out some. So I start moving the pieces in and out, until finally the side moves down, and I can slide off the top. I look inside, but there is nothing.

  I get angry that I wasted so much time trying to open the box. I put the box back together the way I found it and set it down on the shelf. It only takes me a few more moments to realize that the paper isn't hidden on the shelves.

  I look around the room, trying to find some other place where he might be hiding such important information. That's when I look down at Chaff, sleeping on his bed mat. What better place to hide something important than underneath you?

  It makes sense. Someone would have to be a fool to try to move a sleeping person, especially one that might wake up and kill you for it. Also, with Chaff's large size, it would take many people working together to move him.

  I decide to leave because I have nowhere else I can look. I am now certain that the paper is hidden underneath him. I very carefully make my way past Chaff, pinching my nose and holding my breath as I go by. I still cannot believe how bad he smells.

  Once I leave his room, I move as quickly as I can until I am sure I can breathe the air again. I cough, realize my mistake, and cover my mouth with my hands. I can hear the sound of a protector coming down the tunnel that I am in. Thankfully, it is long and curved, but I won't be able to escape with the protector walking so quickly.

  I come to a room that has its glowing stick still burning. I look inside, and a pair of girls are asleep. They both look like they have seen the same amount of snows as me. I slip inside, and lay on the hard stone floor next to them, pretending to be asleep. The footsteps of the Crag protector stop right in front of the girls' room.

  I keep my eyes closed and my mouth open a little to breathe. Sometimes I look at Jet and Flot when they are asleep, and that is how they look. Or at least how Jet used to look when he slept. The feeling of loss from Jet's death overwhelms me. I can feel a tear running down my cheek. I have to hope that the protector doesn't see it.

  I can hear him breathing now, staring at each of the us. It sounds like he is making a noise with his mouth, like he is licking his lips. I am disgusted by the sound, but I don't really know why.

  Eventually, the protector leaves the room. I look over and see the girls, and they are still asleep. I roll over onto my stomach and push myself up and off the ground. I decide to follow the protector, but I keep him far ahead of me. I try to take my steps at the same time he takes his, so that he cannot hear me.

  It helps that the big tunnels in the Crag almost form a circle, with both ends meeting at the mouth. Sometimes the protector goes down a side-tunnel, so I have to stop and wait for him. But then he comes back into the main tunnels, and I can follow him again. It seems to take forever. I have a hard time holding in my yawns as I get more and more tired.

  Finally, I reach our room. Flot, thankfully, is still asleep, although I can tell he is having a rough time of it because of his injuries. I can only imagine how bad his nightmares must be after losing Jet. I wish there was a way I could make him feel better, if only a little.

  I take off my clothes, throw them in a pile on the ground and slip under my blanket. Even though I am tired, I have a hard time falling asleep. I can't help but feel that I have failed Jet; that it's all my fault he's dead. I know it was Chaff and his evil sons that killed him, but it was my stubborness that pushed them to it.

  I also lose sleep trying to figure out how I am going to get the paper I need, if it even still exists. I worry that once he had the knowledge, Chaff destroyed the missing
page. I know if I wanted to keep a secret, that I would do everything I could to destroy any proof of it.

  At the same time, Chaff may want to make sure that at least one of his sons runs things after his death, and you never know when you might meet your end. You can be sure that Sickle and Scythe would turn Chaff's room upside down looking for the secret of the harvest. They would probably find the information if it was hidden under Chaff's bed mat.

  I am also sure that neither Sickle nor Scythe know how to grow things. If they did, they would have killed Chaff long ago. I hold onto that thought as I finally force myself to rest.

  33

  It is late when I finally wake up. I know what is coming, and I don't want to face it. Because I know that when we bury Jet, it will mean that it's real, and he won't be coming back. I won't ever be able to talk to him again. I won't be able to wrestle with him, or teach him how to hunt, or be there to celebrate with him when he joins with someone.

  In my pain, I had forgotten about Till, the girl that Jet had liked. I can imagine, if she liked him back, that she is having a hard time dealing with his death, too.

  I check on Flot, and he is still sleeping. Thankfully, he seems to be breathing okay, and his snoring isn't as loud as it was last night. I get up out of bed and make my way to Helm's room. I see him moving around inside, so I go in.

  "Helm?" I say.

  "Yes, Sam. What is it?" asks Helm.

  "Can you please watch over Flot this morning? I have someone I need to talk to, and I want to make sure that Flot has help if he needs it. I also want to know that he is protected, so that no one else tries to harm him."

  "I will do that," says Helm.

  "Thank you."

  As I turn, Helm stops me.

  "You aren't going to talk to Chaff, are you?" asks Helm.

  "No. I'm going to try to avoid him and his sons for now."

  "That seems very wise. Maybe you will make a good leader then. Remember that it isn't just you and Flot that you're responsible for now, it is also the hunters, and in some ways the entire Crag."

  "I know," I say. "It's funny; I had told Lagan that I didn't want to lead. I have never wanted to lead, or be responsible for other people."

  "He told me. Probably part of the reason he thought you would be so good at it. That, and ever since you arrived, he believed that you were the Sky Child," says Helm.

  "I wish I was the Sky Child. Maybe I could have saved Jet."

  My eyes feel heavy, and I feel weak and tired. I leave Helm's room and make my way to the room that Till's family lives in.

  It takes me a while to get there, because it's across the other side of the Crag, on the side that Chaff and Sickle and Scythe live on. Thankfully, Till's room is down a different set of tunnels, so I don't pass near Chaff's room.

  Once I reach her room, I see fresh flowers sitting in front of the door. This is how we mark the loss of someone special. I need to pick some flowers too, but in my pain and anger I had forgotten. It seems like such an empty thing now, because flowers will never bring Jet back.

  I look inside and see Till talking to her mother, Leaf. Leaf notices my arrival, and understands immediately why I am there.

  "Till, are you up for seeing Sam right now?" asks Leaf.

  Till nods her head slowly.

  "Okay. I will let the pair of you talk. Till, if you need me, I will be outside our room," says Leaf, kissing her daughter on the forehead.

  "Thank you," says Till.

  As Leaf leaves the room, I try to give her a smile. She puts her hand on my shoulder, letting me know that she cares, and that she is sad for what I have lost. I nod, then step inside.

  "Hello Till. I'm sorry that we haven't met before," I say.

  "Is Jet really dead?" asks Till.

  The question takes me by surprise, not because of what she is asking, but because of the urgency of the question.

  "Yes Till, I'm sorry. Jet died yesterday," I say.

  Till cries, and I sit next to her, putting an arm around her.

  "I didn't know whether to believe it or not," says Till. "I overheard Sickle and Scythe talking about it in the tunnels nearby. I wasn't sure if it was true, because they are always lying. But I put out flowers just in case."

  "That was very sweet of you. How well did you know Jet?" I ask.

  "Not very. The first time I had even said more than a pair of words to him was a few nights ago, at the feast. He came up to me and started talking to me."

  "What did he say?"

  "Well, he was trying to act very brave, but I could tell that he was nervous. He had a hard time getting the words out at first. He said some very sweet things about me. It made me blush. No boy has said those kinds of things to me before."

  I smile at her. I'm proud of Jet for working up the courage to talk to her. Talking to someone you like is always difficult, but when you've only seen as many snows as they have, it is much harder.

  I realize that as she's telling me this, tears are coming down my face too.

  "I hope it is okay that I ask, but what did you say to him?"

  "I told him that I thought he was cute, and nice, and that maybe he could come out to the gardens with me some day. Maybe we could talk there, and get to know each other," says Till.

  "That sounds nice," I say, swallowing hard.

  "He also said that he thought he'd enjoy working in the harvest. That he was good at hunting, but he didn't enjoy it very much. He only did it because he wanted you to be proud of him."

  Those words cut me deeper than any spear could.

  "I had no idea that Jet didn't want to hunt, and I don't think I ever pushed him into it," I say, tears pouring from my eyes even harder.

  "No, I don't think it was like that. It was just that he was so proud of you, and he wanted to be like you. He even told me so," says Till.

  Whatever control I had over myself fails me. I cover my face with my hands and let the tears come. I can't believe that I'm letting Till see me like this, but I feel like I can trust her. She won't tell anyone how badly Jet's death is affecting me. She has lost him too, even if she barely knew him. Jet was like that, someone that people never forgot.

  It is Till's turn to put her arm around me. I can feel her head against mine as she cries out her pain. We sit there together for a while until we both calm down. I give Till a final hug then make my way out of her room. Before I get to the tunnels, she speaks.

  "Sam?"

  "Yes, Till?"

  "Thank you for coming and talking to me. It was very nice to meet you," says Till.

  "And you," I say, doing my best to give her a smile.

  As I leave her room, I see Leaf still waiting in the tunnels for us to finish.

  "Thank you, Sam, for talking with her. It was better to hear about losing Jet from you. It will help her to know that someone cared about her feelings, and that she isn't the only one missing Jet," says Leaf.

  "I understand why Jet liked her," I say.

  Leaf smiles, and I give her a tear filled smile back.

  I head down a tunnel, and turn into a dark corner so that I can dry my eyes without anyone seeing.

  34

  I'm feeling a little better, now that I've been able to talk to someone else who cared about Jet. It think it helped me to talk to Till as much as it helped her, and I will make a point of talking to her from now on. And Leaf. They both seem like very good people, which there aren't a lot of in the Crag.

  I walk down the long, shadow-filled tunnels, until I finally get back to our room. Flot is out of bed, unclothed, and he is trying to scrub the red floor of our room. Trying to get the blood out. Jet's blood. I rush to his side.

  "Flot, no, please, you don't have to do this. You shouldn't have to do this," I say.

  "Sam, it's okay. It's just blood, like any other day," he says.

  "Okay, Flot, okay. I will help you clean then," I say.

  I take off my clothes and put them on my bed, so that I don't stain them any worse than t
hey already are. I grab a brush and start cleaning the dried blood off of the stone floor. It is hard work, but together, Flot and I are able to get the blood up. We do such a good job that the stone is no longer red. It's a dark gray now.

  We both take our soap bars and dirty clothes to the loud waters and wash away the dirt and blood that clings to us. It's the first time I see all of Flot's wounds. I see the deep bruises on his stomach where Sickle and Scythe kicked him, and the redness around his neck. I can feel the anger inside me building, but I have to hold it in, for Flot's sake. I have to stay in control. I have to be like the Sky Child.

  Only, I don't want to be the Sky Child. I don't want to lead. I don't want people to know who I am. I just want to live in peace, and I want Jet back. It makes me sad to realize that Vault was right. People almost never get what they truly want, and it seems like that is especially true for me.

  I'm feeling sorry for myself. I need to think of something else, do something else to keep my mind and my heart from giving up. There is nothing I can do to bring Jet back, but I can make sure that his life wasn't meaningless.

  I will do what needs to be done, to honor him and his memory. Because Jet wouldn't want me to give up. He would want me and Flot to be happy again someday. He would want us to miss him, of course, because we loved him and he loved us. But he wouldn't want us to give up on life because we were hurting so much.

  Once I finish cleaning myself, I start to wash both of my shirts and pants. I want to make sure I have clean clothes for when we bury Jet. It takes a while, but eventually my clothes look better than I can remember.

  This time I wait for Flot to finish, but I don't have to wait long. I don't want him alone and outside of our room right now. Not after what happened. I'm still worried, even after our talk, that he might try to find and attack Sickle and Scythe on his own. If they come by to harass him, he might lose control, maybe even kill one or both of them. I can see them saying things about Jet, and Flot trying to hurt them for it.

 

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