Eternal Youth

by Julia Crane

  Callie took a deep, shuddery breath. “It just feels real now.”

  “We’re not going to give up, baby. If there’s a way out of here, we will find it.” Emma pressed her face to Callie’s head and stroked her daughter’s hair.

  “I sure hope so,” Callie murmured. Her mom’s slow rocking soothed her. “Braden…Mom, he needs us. We’re not even going to be there for him when his dad dies.”

  Gran—who had abandoned her exploration of the new apartment—wandered over and put a gentle hand on Callie’s shoulder. “I thought of him earlier, too, dear. I hate it, but there’s nothing we can do. Braden’s a strong boy. He’ll be okay.” Gran let out a breath and patted Callie’s arm. “Now, who wants some tea? I found a tin of black in the cabinet.”

  “That would be great, Mom.” Emma smiled gratefully, and with one last squeeze, released Callie’s shoulder. “I’m going to go freshen up in the bathroom.”

  Nailah took a seat across from Callie and smiled wryly. “No television.”

  “No internet!” Callie wailed, letting her head drop dramatically to the table where she banged it on the rough wood three times.

  “Drama queen,” Nailah said fondly.

  They listened to the sound of the ocean outside the open windows and door, and the shuffling of Gran in the kitchen as she lit the wood stove and banged around in the cabinets for a pan.

  “Grab me some water, will you, love?” Gran held out a pitcher.

  “There isn’t a faucet?” Callie stared dumbfounded at her grandmother.

  The woman tsked and shook her head. “Calista Bishoff, my mother grew up on a farm in the south that still doesn’t have running water. Get your butt outside and draw some from the well.”

  Nailah giggled as Callie took the pitcher from her grandmother’s hand. “You’re coming with me,” she told Nailah, sticking her tongue out.

  Callie sipped her tea, flavored with a couple of mint leaves pulled from a plant outside, and listened to Gran and Nailah chatter.

  “Were you in school in New York?” Gran asked over her coffee mug. She had her little pinky finger straight out like some prim and proper English duchess. Callie had been making fun of her for the affectation for years.

  Nailah sat her mug down and smiled. “I didn’t attend a school, but I was taking online classes.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely. Did you enjoy it?”

  “Um, not really.” Nailah laughed. “I have dyslexia.”

  The proclamation made Callie jerk, and tea spilled on the table. “You’re what?”

  “Dyslexic. You know, where I jumble the letters up in words.”

  Gran pushed away from the table and grabbed a towel from the rack, passing it to Callie. Callie wiped up her mess as she said, “Sorry, yeah, I know what dyslexia is. I just didn’t think…”

  “That such a pretty girl would be so flawed?” Nailah’s eyes were dangerous.

  “No.” Callie shook her head. “Not that at all. Quit with your conclusion jumping. I mean,” Callie said honestly, “you’re really smart. Like, crazy smart. You were spouting Bermuda Triangle babble to me on the plane and you used the word ‘colloquialism’ this morning!”

  “Dyslexia doesn’t mean one is dumb, Calista.” Gran sat back down in her seat and crossed her legs. The ankle-length cotton dress she wore beneath her white cardigan sweater made her look like a free-loving hippie. Callie loved it. Gran turned back to Nailah. “I admire you for conquering your condition, dear.”

  Nailah blushed. “Thanks, Gran.”

  Emma’s heavy footsteps on the flimsy wooden stairs foretold her appearance. She rushed across the stone floors, kicking up dust, and stopped at the edge of the table, pressing both of her palms to the top. Callie recognized the wild look in her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about how quickly we’ve all healed,” she said. “All they used was water. Do you think the water supply has healing properties?”

  “Oh, Mom, please don’t start with your crazy fountain ideas again.” Callie groaned, burying her head in her hands. “I can barely handle this alternate whatever-the-hell this is. I can’t deal with your insane fantasies.”

  “I wasn’t even going to say anything about the fountain, Calista Alana.” Emma frowned at her daughter. She paused, her eyes going unfocused over Callie’s head. “Although, now that you mention it…”

  “Not now, Mother.” Callie stood up, leaving her empty mug on the table, and wandered over to the window. Outside, a small group of schoolchildren kicked a ball in the cobblestone road. “Focus. What were you going to say?”

  “It’s occurred to us all that we each healed entirely too fast.” Emma spread her hands and shrugged. “What if the water has healing properties? Maybe because of the difference in the atmosphere?”

  “What differences?” Nailah asked. She had her chin resting in one hand as she stared with interest at Emma.

  Callie rolled her eyes. Just what she needed: her theoretical, fantastical mother gaining a sidekick in Nailah.

  Emma waved out the window. “Surely you’ve noticed how different it is here! The air is cleaner and sweeter. The sun brighter, clearer, but not as hot. We’re surrounded on all sides by water, yet it isn’t humid at all. I wonder just how far and deep these differences go.”

  “You may be on to something, love,” Gran said thoughtfully. “It is odd that your wound closed so quickly, and that Callie is bouncing around the room like a ball.”

  Having left the window, Callie was perusing the books on the bookshelf. She rolled her eyes again. “I’m thinking.”

  “About what?” Nailah asked.

  “Jobs.” Callie put back the book she held and turned to her family. “Aren’t they supposed to tell us today where we will be working? I just can’t believe we have to have jobs. Not only are we stuck here, but they’re also going to use us for slave labor.”

  Gran chuckled. “I think that’s a little dramatic, Calista. Everyone needs to pitch in to keep Aionia prosperous, just like any other city. We’ll need income to support ourselves. It might be fun. If nothing else, it will give us something to keep us occupied.”

  “I guess so,” Callie grumbled. She sank onto the mauve sofa—it was surprisingly plush and comfy—and rested her head on the arm, staring at the blank stone wall. “They better not expect me to clean up after everyone.”

  “They’ll probably let us pick where we work. Or at least place us based on what we like,” Nailah said, her voice hopeful. “I’ve always wanted to work at a flower shop.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough. Come on, Mom, let’s leave the girls alone.” Emma offered her hands to Gran and heaved the old woman to her feet. “I want to walk around a bit and check out the island. I’d love to find out how long it would take to circle it.”

  From her prone position on the couch, Callie perked up, poking her head above the top of the couch. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  At the table, Nailah grinned and stood.

  Callie swept to her feet and stalked across the floor. She pulled her sweater from the back of the kitchen chair and said, “You are not going off to explore without us.”

  They hiked away from the sun, which had passed its zenith and was beginning its descent into the horizon. The cobblestones reflected the stored heat of the day so that Callie’s toes stayed warm though the breeze was cool.

  There were sailboats on the water. Their tall sails were unfurled to the wind, though they sat still atop the ocean. Callie could just make out little figures wandering the decks; she saw one shadowy form toss what looked to be a net into the water.

  “Oh, they’re fishing!” Callie said, mostly to herself since her mother and Gran were pulling ahead.

  Nailah, lost in her own thoughts, said, “Huh? Oh, yes, I see. Neat.”

  “You were gone for a minute there,” Callie remarked. The road began to climb uphill.

  When she answered, Nailah’s voice was low and pained. “I wonder if my mother is frantic.”

&nb
sp; Callie kept her eyes on the steeply ascending ground; she wasn’t sure what to say. Especially since she was lucky enough to have her mother—and grandmother—with her. For the first time since the crash, Callie realized how close she had come to losing them.

  They walked along in companionable silence, listening to the distant chatter of Callie’s mom and Gran. Callie hugged her sweater tighter, comforted by the scratchy wool. It had been a cold, rainy day on Inishmoor when she’d seen Aran sweaters for the first time. The hotel had been tiny and full; the shop was even tinier and stuffed to the brim. Callie remembered vividly the rugged, aged face of the shopkeeper and her toothless smile. She had greeted Callie in Irish.

  Of all the places her mother had dragged her through the years, the Irish Aran Islands topped her list of most magical, and that same magical “feeling” permeated Aionia.

  The cobblestone road wound up the hill the way they had come, and leveled out into the dirt road that made one of the spokes of the Aionia wagon wheel—it was a straight shot into the center of the city and the temple. But to the left, a small, dirt path meandered away from the road and into the trees, heading in the direction of the coast. The path was loosely-packed, as if not many people passed that way.

  “Let’s go this way, ladies,” Emma called with a melodramatic hand wave as she moved into the dimness of the forest.

  “I like your mom,” Nailah said.

  “She’s okay.”

  “You shouldn’t hold grudges, Calista.” Nailah took hold of Callie’s wrist, gently tugging her to a stop before they entered the woods. “Even with whatever flaws, she’s still your mom. And we’re—for the moment—stuck here. Now is the perfect time to let those things go.”

  Callie glanced down at her feet. Her toenails were painted burgundy; she wondered how long the nail polish would last before it chipped off. She would bet there wasn’t nail polish on Aionia.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying, Cal?”

  The use of Braden’s nickname for her hit Callie hard. Tears burned her eyes. She sniffed, and then nodded. “Yes. I do. Better a mom with issues than no mom at all.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.” Her face distraught, Nailah dropped Callie’s wrist and followed Emma and Gran into the forest, her long legs carrying her quickly down the path.

  “Nailah,” Callie said, distraught as she rushed to catch up.

  The trees were thick. They hugged the path on either side, trunks curving like arms. The sun shone through in spotlights; the places in between were dark and cool. It’s like some kind of fairy land.

  “You’re part of our family now,” Callie said when she caught up to her friend’s long-legged gait. “I know it doesn’t make up for missing your own, but when you need us, we’re gonna be there. I promise.”

  Nailah slowed. There were shiny trails down both her cheeks, but she smiled anyway and flung an arm over Callie’s shoulders. “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to climb up,” Emma said firmly as they stood beneath the small cliff and stared up into the sunshine.

  After a half hour of walking, they’d come across a small clearing that had piqued Callie’s mother’s interest. The cliff blocked their way, spreading in either direction as far as they could see until it disappeared into the tree line. The craggy stone was covered in moss.

  “God,” Callie said disgustedly. She motioned for Nailah to follow her. “We’re going to keep walking this way. You can catch up when you’re done playing Spiderman.”

  “I’ll wait with your mother in case she takes a tumble.” Gran’s eyes sparkled good-naturedly; Emma could do very few things that surprised her.

  “If she falls, yell.” Callie blew a kiss, and kept walking.

  They kept the same course that had brought them to the clearing, and entered the next copse of trees. The unsteady terrain had made Callie break a sweat.

  “Have you noticed there are no animals?” Nailah said after a few moments, as they huffed up yet another small incline.

  “It’s daytime,” Callie said with a shrug. She stopped to lift a large fallen tree limb and tossed it into the trees with a huff. “And most animals won’t come anywhere near a human, much less four.”

  “It just seems so quiet.”

  The broke through into sunlight once more and found they were back on the shoreline. The ocean tumbled carelessly on the sand, hissing as the water spilled away and prepared to hit again. The grass was soft and cushiony where the path ended.

  “What’s that?” Nailah pointed away from the water. They’d traveled further away from the cliff face than Callie felt they had; but in the shadow of the rock wall, there was a small ring of stones.

  “Fallen rocks?” Callie guessed.

  “No.” Nailah shook her head. “Look at them. They’re all standing on end. That certainly isn’t natural. Come on.” She took off.

  “We’ve been climbing hills for an hour and you want to run?” Callie called after her. With a loud groan—that she hoped Nailah heard—Callie sprinted after the girl.

  When she got to the edge of the stone circle, Callie paused and leaned forward, breathing heavily as she pressed her hands to her knees. “You…are…insane,” she huffed out, squinting at Nailah.

  “You’re just out of shape,” Nailah quipped, raising an eyebrow. She put both hands on one of the standing stones—it was taller than she was.

  “Don’t get saucy with me.” Callie stood and stretched; her back popped. “I’m so not out of shape. I spent the past year climbing mountains and walking in the jungle.”

  “Whatever you say, Cal.” Nailah pressed an ear to the rock in front of her and knocked the side of a fist on the stone. “These are solid.”

  “What’d you think, they were paper-maché?”

  Nailah rolled her eyes.

  There were nine standing stones, all taller than Nailah—who was a bit taller than Callie—but none of them were the exact same shape and size. They formed a perfect circle in the emerald grass, farther from the cliff than they had seemed. In the center, a flat, horizontal altar stone sat next to a blackened circle of soot that indicated where a fire had been burned.

  “It’s been used. Recently,” Callie murmured, kneeling to run a finger through the ash. She rubbed it between her fingers. “It’s clean.”

  “Looks dirty to me.” Nailah grimaced.

  “There’s nothing mixed in. Like, no leaves or dirt. It hasn’t been rained on.”

  “If it even rains here.”

  Callie paused, staring wide-eyed up at Nailah. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Oh, it rains here.” A deep voice broke over the sound of the ocean.

  Callie jumped and fell backwards, landing squarely on her bottom. She and Nailah jerked around to face the intruder.

  It was the blond boy. The one from the meeting hall who had sat on his stool and taken notes during the first meeting.

  He’s even cuter up close, Callie thought, her heart pounding—partly from the shock of his voice when they hadn’t expected it, but partly from his nearness.

  The boy wore black cotton pants and a white t-shirt, but he even made that look sexy. His shoulders and chest were broad, and tapered into a narrow waist and hips. The lines of his face were angular and his forehead broad over his pale eyes. He had recently shoved a hand through his tangled locks of hair so that it stood up at wild angles.

  That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  He ambled forward and offered Callie a hand. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” She gripped his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “Just startled me, that’s all.”

  Nailah stepped forward, eyeing the boy warily. “How long have you been here?”

  He flushed, a sweet, pink blush that spread up his fair neck and into his cheeks. “I was behind the rock,” he said sheepishly, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the largest standing stone. “I heard you guys come running up. Thought you’d check it out and leave.”
/>   “You could have come out and introduced yourself, you know,” Callie said with a laugh. “We don’t bite.”

  “Well, I don’t know that, do I?” he said. His playful tone made Callie’s heart pitter-patter.

  Ohmigod, is he flirting?

  “I’m Callie. And this is Nailah. Do we have to tie you to the altar stone and torture your name out of you?”

  “Alaric.” He grinned and bowed slightly. “You’re new. From the recent crash.”

  Callie sobered, exchanging glances with Nailah. “Yeah.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. It’s hard at first. I promise it gets better. Easier.”

  “How long have you been here?” Nailah spoke up. Her arms were crossed over her flowy shirt and her jaw was set.

  Callie glared. What the hell is her problem? He was here first.

  “Too long,” Alaric answered, flashing a brief smile. “What are you doing so far from the city?”

  “What are you doing so far from the city?” Callie shot back.

  “I walked right into that.” He chuckled. His face went serious as he caught Callie’s eyes with his own pale blues. “It’s dangerous out here. Quicksand, wild cats. If you don’t know the land, you’re setting yourself up for trouble.”

  “Not my first rodeo, cowboy.” Callie shrugged. “We’re just checking things out. My mom and grandmother are right behind us; Mom wanted to see how long it took us to go all the way around.”

  “Not long. You’re about halfway now. Aionia is a small world.”

  It struck Callie that his wording was odd. A small world. “Like there’s not anything else to this world than this island?”

  Alaric’s jaw hardened. “There’s not.”

  “O-kaaay. We’re going to keep walking now,” Nailah cut in. She grabbed Callie’s elbow to steer her away. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Wait—you can’t go that way.” Alaric put a hand out in front of Nailah’s chest, making her stop short of running into him.

  “Why?” She let go of Callie and crossed her arms. Callie had never seen her friend so attitude-y.