The Sundered

by Ruthanne Reid

  “Nice master!” says Gorish from far above, and then he falls. He just falls, bouncing off his brethren, all the way into the water, and when he comes back out, he can't climb back up. He keeps jumping, and missing, and falling back down into the water, trying to get higher.

  The black lines are still on his back in my dream. Gorish, I'm so sorry. I never meant you to be hurt. I can't believe anyone would do this to—

  Oh. They're dying.

  There's no pattern. Sundered just stop moving in midair, going still, eyes white and empty. But the moaning doesn't stop. Even Aakesh suffers, the orange in his irises winking out and going dull like old orange peels. They're all dying.

  Gorish slips, falls, splashes into the water one last time, and doesn't resurface. They're all dead. A great floating pyramid of bodies, and only now is it quiet.

  No.

  No!

  This isn't right. Wake up. Wake up! All of you stupid Sundered, wake up! This is a dream! I order you to come back to life!

  I shout at them, my voice hollow and distant, and the Sundered perform a huge communal shudder like one enormous creature, and then they start moving again. The groaning starts up, too, but I don't care.

  Gorish? Where is Gorish?

  Aakesh floats at the top of the pyramid, watching me coolly as I look, and I find Gorish's little broken body floating and still in the water.

  He's dead. He's gone. He's not moving.

  The water suddenly doesn't matter. I grab him, yanking him out of it. He's light as I hold him to my chest. “Hey, little guy.” Mine are the only words in this place, loud over the groans, clear over the chirps and sighs. “Come on. You can do it. Come back to me.”

  I keep talking as the floating pyramid shifts above me, though everybody stays in their assigned tiers. Nobody travels vertically in this dream except for the little orange guy in my arms.

  Damn you, this is my dream. You don't stay dead here. You don't. “Come on, Gorish. Come on, I know you can hear me.” And then, a miracle: he turns his head affectionately to nuzzle my stomach.

  I wake up with a start because he did it for real.

  It's not yet dawn. The western sky is smudged with pink, and Gorish is still wrapped around my waist. His suction-cup fingertips play a little along my side, like he's giving me tiny finger-kisses. “Nice master,” he mumbles into my skin.

  Okay, little guy. Okay. nice master. Whatever. “Hi there, Gorish,” I mumble back, since he doesn't sleep and I can't wish him a good night. I only start to wonder as I fall back asleep if maybe, somehow, that wasn't my dream at all.

  Maybe it was his.

  ● ●

  ● CHAPTER 13 ●

  Tenisia

  Scavenging feels like a waste of time.

  We row past tufts and distant landfall, aiming for the rising pockets of steam that indicate salvage. Anything abandoned in this world doesn't just rust—it corrodes. It's like the water is eating it. Columns of steam lead to rusted, empty ships, mysteriously abandoned campsites, or spooky outposts too small to be considered cities.

  This fits with “the water hates you” a little too well to be ignored.

  My head is not in the game. We find a larger-than-average landfall with actual buildings on it, a town big enough to require a canal. The people who lived here had Sundered Ones once.

  So what happened to these people? Why are they gone?

  Columns of steam bigger than my boat rise hissing into the sky, and half the red-rust walls have crumbled down. Places like this litter our world, spotting it all over like flecks of blood. Its canal is broken, branches of it ruining the ground and snaking through the foundations like claws. We'll have to be careful.

  I go first because it's my job to take risks and prove I'm worthy of leading. I use my own weight to test the walkways, to make sure nothing's going to collapse just because we're moving around.

  One time, I was testing the walls of an abandoned little hovel, and it collapsed on me.

  I wasn't injured, but it was the single most frightening moment of my life. Weight, dust, creaking and cracking sounds all around—but the worst part was the water. Black water lay in wait only a few feet away, and I could have been knocked in.

  It took me twenty minutes to stop shaking after that. I wonder now if I almost knew. Knew the water wanted me. Knew it hated me. It feels right.

  I shake myself. Wake up, Harry. You've been staring at nothing for too long. “Mind checking it out, Aakesh? Make sure it's safe for my Travelers and me.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” he says, and steps lightly out of the boat.

  We all watch him walk in, dignified and straight-backed. I feel the others' eyes on me.

  “Why not send Gorish?” Demos asks. “He's worth less, so there's less loss if he's damaged.”

  I hate this question. I hate what it implies. I have no right to protect this property. “Because he's damaged already.” Aakesh disappears into a building, deftly avoiding cracks in the ground. “If we're going to sell him for anything at all, we have to give him a break now.” That sounds plausible.

  Demos doesn't believe me. “We should get enough from the other one to cover any loss regarding the low-tier.”

  “Don't tell me how to do my job.”

  He says nothing in response to that.

  Hurry up, Aakesh.

  He reappears. “The buildings on this side of the canal are safe.” He points. “However, those are not, and only Gorish and I should enter them.”

  Relieved, I climb out of my boat and assign my Travelers to various buildings.

  We work for a while, ignoring the tension. This place has real wealth: goblets and flatware, watches and clocks with rusty gears gone red, and even weapons. I can't believe the guns. Guns are so rare. I haven't even seen one in years.

  The guns will bring us enough money that I can excuse keeping Gorish for a while longer. That's what I'll do.

  I chance a look back at the place as we leave, eerie with quiet. Where these people went is unknown. What happened to them, why they decided to live here away from a city, and where their Sundered Ones went is all a mystery forever.

  Were there children here?

  Would it have mattered if there were?

  I feel like everything I do shakes my balance, like I'm back on that knife's-edge precipice, and I still don't know what lies below.

  The constellations are in the wrong positions.

  I stare above our fire, dropping right out of conversation because this doesn't make sense. The stars say we're farther north than we should be. A lot farther north.

  My hands shake as I take out my maps and sextant, checking. The constellations that should be over my head right now aren't. Instead, they're angled over my left ear, where they shouldn't be for weeks.

  I close my eyes and exhale slowly. Aakesh is doing it again.

  This is the second time Aakesh has made us travel faster, somehow. Nobody but me seems to notice. I guess that's good in the sense that they trust me to guide us wherever we're going, but this isn't right. They should notice something like this. Except for Toddy, they've all been doing this longer than I have. They ought to know better. “Aakesh,” I whisper.

  “My lord.” Aakesh's voice is soft behind me, private.

  I fold my map carefully, not looking at him. Not looking at this terrifying creature who changes our speed to suit himself. “I need to know how we're moving so fast. And I need to know why.”

  “We will arrive in the city with one more day of rowing, at the present pace,” says Aakesh. “In answer to your questions, I have not moved us, nor can I say precisely why it has occurred, and no, you have not missed the Hope.”

  I look at him. That last part, I hadn't even asked.

  He looks back, unreadable.

  “I need more than that.” I can barely hear my own voice above Kaia's shrieky laughter, but I know Aakesh can. “This makes no sense. I need more.”

  He sighs slowly. “The water, my
lord, chooses whether to speed or slow those who glide upon it.”

  The water is speeding me up? “I thought it hated us.”

  “It does, my lord. However, your goal is ... important to more than merely yourself.” He leans closer. “Every action brings you closer to your Hope. Every day that passes brings danger nearer to your door. You do not know what lies at the end of your long journey.”

  I stare at him, my eyes so wide they burn.

  I have no idea what to say in response. Anything that comes to mind seems stupid. He's talking about something so much greater than myself. Or even himself. He's talking about something more. I turn away, swallowing hard to keep my dinner down.

  “Harry?” says Demos. “We're low on carrots again.”

  I have a sneaking suspicion Gorish has been eating them. “Thanks. I'll get more at our next city-stop.”

  Aakesh leans back, watching me like what I do next will bring the end of the world.

  Maybe it will.

  It's good we're speeding toward Tenisia. I need to talk to Parnum. He'll know what to do. If he doesn't, there's no one on earth who can help me.

  My childhood city gleams like a faceted jewel on velvet-black water. Light refracts through the crystal tops of its towers onto shockingly white stone, like stars have come dancing. This is the only place in the world crystal can be mined, and they use it well.

  Tenisia has unique placement: though it's one huge landfall, it's surrounded by smaller ones, and the city's designers used those to create docking areas. A series of narrow white bridges link them together, curving gracefully into the city like lace.

  The brilliance of this design goes even further: Tenisia may be glowing white, but most of its citizens are dark. It’s a gorgeous skin-color, dark as the richest lager, and they wear bright robes of fine, soft cloth. Their children run safely in the streets—there are walls between the walkways and the canals—and the smell of food is never greasy or too heavy with spice.

  My father made a lot of mistakes in his life, but choosing to raise me here makes up for a lot of them.

  The canal walls need constant maintenance, of course, but Tenisia provides it. It's the only city I've ever known that I'd be willing to live in. When the time comes for me to raise a baby, I might do it here. Of course, I'd be setting him up for disappointment when he finally gets to see the rest of the world. But maybe by then I'll have found the Hope, and we'll never have to leave.

  “Man, that is gorgeous,” says Demos, slowing his boat beside mine.

  “Jewel on the water,” I agree.

  “Harry?” Sandra's voice is so quiet I almost didn't hear her. She shares a boat with Toddy, the two of them separated by supply bags and a couple of waterproof blankets. “Is this Tenisia?”

  I brace myself for the questions. Yes, my Sundered altered time and space to his whim. Yes, we did get here weeks early. No, I'm not selling him. “Yeah.”

  “It's beautiful,” Sandra whispers.

  I manage a smile for her.

  “That was an easy trip!” Toddy adds happily.

  None of them get it. None of them have any idea how long that should have taken, not even Demos. I'm both sickened and relieved.

  Sandra frowns a little. A warm breeze pushes her hair into her eyes. “That was really fast, wasn't it?”

  “Yeah, it was.” Suddenly, I want her to understand. I want to share this with someone. Come on, Sandra. Figure it out, ask questions, state the obvious. Something.

  She chews her lower lip, paddling to keep pace with me, and opens her mouth.

  Gorish pops up playfully between our boats, and instead of speaking, she makes a little cry, then uses her paddle to slow her boat down. They fall way back, much to Toddy’s confusion, all the way to the end of the line.

  So much for talking to her.

  “My lord.”

  I still jump when he appears in my boat. “What? Dammit, don't do that.”

  Aakesh glances toward Gorish.

  Gorish, who's still unclaimed.

  Unclaimed. And anyone trained will feel it. Dammit, Gorish.

  “There are envoys from Bek here,” Aakesh adds casually.

  “What?” I hiss.

  “Wooo! City living tonight!” Tomas howls. “We are sleeping like kings!”

  “There are men from Bek in this city,” Aakesh repeats quietly, and I stare at him.

  “So?” I breathe. “Is there testy, too?”

  Aakesh looks toward Tenisia, and I think for once I see a hint of something in his face. Apprehension? Worry? Fear? “No. They bring far worse.”

  A childish fury rises in me. This is Tenisia. We're supposed to be safe in Tenisia. There aren't supposed to be evil elements here.

  Aakesh doesn't elaborate.

  And Gorish isn't claimed.

  I am never, ever going to leave this headache behind.

  ● ●

  ● CHAPTER 14 ●

  Puppet

  Aakesh’s superior calm has vanished, replaced by caution.

  It's almost over, I tell myself. Dr. Parnum will have my answers, and then I can put all of this behind me. We paddle to the docking area, a place with real docks and loading platforms that rise out of the water. They actually lift our boats and us, making us completely safe before we even step foot on land. This is civilization, baby.

  I get my stuff secured inside the boat and rub it down quickly so it'll be dry for carrying on my back. I need to do something about Gorish. I need to do something about Bek.

  I need to see this place through Aakesh's eyes.

  I don't know why. It feels right, feels like if I can see what he does, I'll have some forewarning. Kneeling as if checking my bootlaces, I close my own eyes and try to see through Aakesh's instead.

  It's even easier this time. The world shifts, afterimages chasing anything that moves, and as I look up, I see what has him scared.

  Rising from the west side of my city is a dark tunnel, smoke-black, twisting in a slow funnel. White bird-things slice through it, sucked upward in a slow spiral, like detritus slipping down a partially clogged drain.

  What is that thing? I've never seen anything like that. Do all cities look like that? Does this have something to do with testy? Does phase two move beyond cows to demon-tunnels?

  The funnel is black, flat, like burn-off from a really bad fire. Below it, Tenisia isn't white. Not in Aakesh's eyes. It gleams, it sure does, but in this weird purple color that hurts to look at. Why would Tenisia look like that? What does it mean?

  “Nice master!” Gorish hugs me from behind and keeps me from falling flat on my face.

  His fishiness fills my nose as I gasp, dizzy. Luckily, my Travelers were too busy packing and rubbing down their boats to notice me wobbling like an idiot. Maybe I should sit down.

  “Nice master?” says Gorish again, peering at me by my knee.

  Aakesh looks at me significantly, then at Gorish and back.

  That tunnel has something to do with Bek, and Gorish is in danger. I know. What am I supposed to do? “I can't carry you both, Aakesh,” I whisper.

  He does it again, glancing at Gorish—who is now playing with my boot laces—and back.

  Is he asking nicely, or demanding?

  Aakesh crouches beside me. He touches the tips of his fingers to Gorish's round head, a gently possessive caress that makes Gorish wriggle like an ecstatic fish.

  You know something? He's just given me bargaining material. If I can use this right, for the first time, I’ll have the advantage. “We both want Gorish safe, don't we?”

  Aakesh nods. “Yes, my lord.”

  “He won't be safe if my Travelers claim him, you know, and I don't think he's willing to go away. For whatever reason, he’s following me by choice.”

  Aakesh does his half-nod in confirmation, his lips tight.

  I feel cleverer than I am, which means this is either going to work spectacularly or blow up in my face. “I’m willing to protect him by claiming him. I'm wil
ling to add him to my current leash.”

  Aakesh's fingers twitch.

  Hook, line—“But.” I lean in. “I'm not giving you up to do it. That means if you try to fight me again—give me weird visions or bad dreams, or yank against my mind, or pretend to attack me, or do anything else that strains my will in any way—I'm cutting him loose, and he's back in danger. Do you understand?” And sinker.

  I've got him. It was a cruel thing to say, but effective. His eyes narrow to orange-forge slits. “I am willing, my lord, to ... share space,” Aakesh says carefully.

  I'm completely sure he's wording this in a way to his advantage, but I don't have time to figure it out. My Travelers have already begun to hoist their lightweight boats onto their shoulders. “Then help me,” I whisper, and reach for Gorish's mind.

  It hurts.

  Sharp, deep brain-pain stabs me, aching like a muscle I've never used, and the edges of my vision go fuzzy. Seated or not, I sway.

  “Harry?” someone says.

  I try to answer, and instead I gasp and curl forward, gripping my head. I can't help it, can't stop it. Thought hurts like I'm stretching my mind so thin it's tearing holes. I have to do this. I can do this. I will do this—

  “Hey, what's going on?” someone demands.

  “Pardon me, gentlemen. Harry is preparing an advanced technique learned from his Academy,” Aakesh says somewhere far away. “He feels that once within the city's confines, Tenisia's amenities could distract him, and he does not care to risk a reversal, so he takes the time to anchor himself more deeply in our minds.” And he bows.

  He bowed. He bowed to them. Aakesh humbled himself for Gorish's sake. This is more significant than anything I've learned, but I can't think about—

  I find Gorish's mind with a jolt that sets off flashes behind my eyes.

  “Awoo!” Gorish says, whatever that means, and I don't know because my mind is so tender that touching his tiny self hurts like slamming into a doorframe with an already broken bone.

  Do it.

  Do it.