by Zen DiPietro
Izzy also tracked Meli’s movements. “After an initial period of anxiety, she relaxed. Some of her dreaminess has drifted away, giving her greater clarity. She always has a smile or a pleasant word to spare and is genuinely pleased to be a part of the group.”
“She’s not nervous about seeing Anguish?”
“Right now she’s immersed in the moment. Being around all these people is exciting for her. It’s a good thing, because if she fretted about what we’re facing, she might regress rather than progress.”
Luc made a thoughtful hmm sound. “Has she mentioned anything useful?”
“Only confirmation of what we suspected. Anguish’s abilities are formidable, and he seems to have forced her into servitude. It doesn’t seem he really had much to do with her, other than leaving her to tend the fortress. She’s spent these years as an indentured servant. The most upsetting part of her life in Apex was when she had to see the ‘twisties’ as she calls them. She hates those things. Other than that, it’s been fortress affairs and her personal entertainments. A very small world.”
“I suppose it was too much to hope she might know the key to his defeat. Something like a deadly allergy to makka nuts, perhaps. All this could come to an entirely unimpressive end with a simple sandwich.”
Izzy’s sudden laugh prompted a smile from Luc. She liked when he allowed himself a little amusement. He was actually a very attractive man when he stopped scowling. “I’m sure the great Lucien Petrush will come up with something.”
“Oh, yes.” His tone was as dry as a fine, aged wine. “After all, I’m hunting a madman with the help of a shut-in, a newly-formed army, and a recently unblanketed mana-holder. Victory is clearly mine.”
“Exactly.” She grinned. “Fight crazy with crazy.”
“Isn’t it in poor taste for a therapist to use that term?”
“Usually,” she agreed. “But I like to live on the edge.”
Izzy felt a pool of empathetic duality fill her chest and saw Luc’s expression change to match it. “What’s bothering you?” she inquired.
“I was just thinking.” He rubbed his jaw. “I can’t decide if I’m invigorated by this situation, or eager for normalcy.”
“Both, no doubt. People often war with themselves when experiencing opposing emotions, but it’s a perfectly healthy state of being.”
His attention shifted to Meli, who now chatted enthusiastically with Arc. “Let’s hope she can find a healthy state of being. She may be our key to destroying Anguish.”
The fifth day of travel passed much like the previous four. Meli appeared blissfully unaware of anything unpleasant in her future. She charmed members of the battalion as she shyly but earnestly made friends with them. Arc’s fondness for her increased by the day.
The more time she spent with others, the more she thrived. No longer a wan shell of a girl, she was bright, full of laughter, and as optimistic as a child. Arc understood why Kassimeigh cared so much about Meli’s wellbeing. He shared her concern.
Meli was on a mission to convert the battalion into a group of puzzle-workers. Having brought several of her favorite brainteasers, she pulled them out whenever possible. No one could resist her bubbly laughter and invitations to help build a tiny wooden cottage or a picture of a landscape.
That evening at the campsite, Kassimeigh and Arc sat on a blanket helping Meli complete a puzzle of a fruit basket when Arc had an idea. Reaching for his hand comm, he activated it and saw it had a signal. They expected to cross the northern border of the mid-lats the next day, but apparently they’d gotten close enough to a satellite to link up with the comm system. Arc felt an unexpected sense of relief. Just that small connection to the mid-lats felt like coming home.
“Meli, have you ever seen one of these?” He showed her the device.
“Yes, it’s the message-sending thing.”
“That’s right. It can do other things, too, now that we’re near the mid-lats. Look at this.” He tapped the screen a couple times and handed it to her.
“It’s a puzzle!” Fascinated, she poked with her fingers as he’d done, to little effect.
“Here, I’ll show you.” He demonstrated how to tap the viewscreen and shift the pieces around.
Squealing with delight, she jabbed at the puzzle vigorously, laughing now and then when a piece snapped into place. When she assembled the puzzle, it played a victory song, which made her drop the hand comm on the blanket in surprise.
“Music!” Her mouth formed a small O. Picking the device up again, she cradled it gently in her hands with undue reverence. “I can’t remember when I last heard music.”
Arc exchanged a sad glance with Kassimeigh. They kept discovering tiny, devastating realizations of how empty her life had been for the past decade and more. He scooted closer to Meli. “Here,” he offered, gently taking the hand comm from her. “Listen.”
Gentle strains of classical harp music slid from the hand comm, making Meli’s eyes widen.
“I know this one!” She swayed from side to side, then, when that wasn’t enough to release what was within her, she hopped up to her feet and moved off of the blanket. She adjusted her feet, bent her knees, and her arms floated gracefully to either side of her.
Meli waited for a new phrase to start and stepped into the music. With each step, turn, and sweep, she melded more seamlessly into the sound until there was no way to know if the music drove her or if she drove it. Years of training ingrained into her body pointed her toes and radiated energy right out through her fingertips. She spun, twisted, dropped low and soared high beneath the last flickering remnants of daylight. By the time the song was done, she’d collected quite a crowd.
Her audience applauded, and she took a practiced, demure bow. As she rose, she threw her head back and laughed. She was Meli again, but now more. The lift in her ribcage and the grace of her feet didn’t quite leave, even when she simply walked back to them and regained her seat. Now that she’d remembered she was a dancer, another piece of Meli’s sense of self had slid into place in a way that was obvious to anyone who knew her.
“I used to dance,” she confided as she gracefully sat back down on the blanket. Arc noted that the announcement brought no expressions of surprise.
“You were wonderful!” Arc enthused. He put his arm around her in a one-armed side hug. He’d only meant to play a song for her, and he’d given a piece of her life back to her. He was glad he hadn’t decided to regale her with some of his jokes instead.
“Beautiful,” Kassimeigh added. She applauded again, lightly.
Meli blushed with pleasure. “I used to dance, more than anything else. I danced everywhere I went. My dream was to join a professional dance company as soon as I was old enough.”
“Maybe when we’re done with all this,” Arc suggested, “you could study dance again.”
“I’d like that more than anything.”
Arc patted the back of her hand. “We’ll help you find a good teacher.”
“Promise?” Meli’s face was all eyes and hope.
“Promise.”
Arc found himself falling over backward when Meli threw herself at him and squeezed all the air out of him with a surprisingly robust hug.
Kassimeigh would not mind if she never rode in a cart again. Although they’d crossed the border into the northern mid-lats, the hours of jostling and inactivity had officially become a few too many. She wondered if permanent nerve damage to one’s backside was possible from excessive cart travel. From the way Arc, Izzy, and Justin squirmed in their seats, she was sure they wondered the same thing. At least Terath’s midday sun shone overhead. The skies had not cleared entirely just yet, but the further south they moved, the more conditions—and moods—improved.
Kassimeigh was heartened by the life she saw in Meli. The previous evening h
ad been another milestone for Meli, and it had been wonderful to witness. Optimism for Meli’s future bolstered her outlook on their current endeavor because it reminded her that many stories had happy endings. She’d been so focused on the tragedies of Sorrow and Umi Cabal that her perspective had angled slightly toward the negative. With Meli improving and the mid-lats sky above her, she now felt more confident that they had the means to handle the crisis of Anguish and eliminate his threat to Terath.
She opened her mouth to make a comment to Arc when she felt a sensation move through her. Confused by her inability to define it, she pressed a hand to her chest. She wanted to call it a cold pain but when she compared the words with the sensations, they did not truly fit.
“Are you okay?” Arc put his arm around her.
“Yes. I think so. I feel something . . . strange.”
She searched for Luc among the carts. Izzy rode nearby, studying her keenly. She shrugged in the reader’s direction. She had no answers to give.
Arc said a quick word to Abrom, who was driving. He steered them alongside Luc’s cart. The manahi surveyed Kassimeigh’s dismayed frown and the hand pressed to her chest.
“Don’t worry,” he called to her over the light noise of the carts, which continued to roll forward. “This area has no mana. We’ll discuss when we stop, but there’s nothing to worry about. Just relax.”
She felt a small relief, mollified to know the sensation didn’t indicate a problem. As she thought about it, a lack of mana was indeed what she felt. She’d grown accustomed to the energy she always felt around and within her. The sudden lack had been foreign and unexpected. Struck by the thought, she wondered if this was how she’d always felt back when her mana sense was blanketed. Feeling “normal” was distinctly relative, she realized. A chasm of disparity stood between those who could not hold mana and those who could.
She gave Arc a small shrug as Abrom pulled their cart away to a more comfortable distance for avoiding collision.
“It’s always some damn thing,” she remarked.
He laughed at her flippant words and instead of removing his arm, moved closer. She didn’t protest, finding that his warmth counteracted the hollowness in her chest nicely.
When the day’s travel ended a short time later, and the troops gathered into circles to share dinner, Kassimeigh found a place by Luc. She appreciated the greater variety of food on her plate. Although the battalion hadn’t entirely escaped the effects of the northern reaches, they already had grasses and hardier plants to add to their dried food stores. Over the next couple days, they would encounter an increasingly bountiful supply of offerings as they arrived in the heart of the mid-lats.
Will had decided that the battalion would continue traveling in carts. This allowed them to ravel a direct route without unpacking and repacking gear at every monorail terminal. Besides, they’d present less of a spectacle if they avoided the monorails. No need to draw attention to themselves if they could avoid it.
Kassimeigh edged closer to Luc. “So the hollow sensation I had,” she began. “Is that how I used to feel, without realizing it?”
Luc chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Fascinating, isn’t it, how the intrinsic parts of ourselves become filters through which we perceive the world around us?” He held his fork aloft and gestured with it. “There is so little that is not completely subjective, based on the vagaries of individual circumstance. I’m trying to remember how I felt as a boy, before I came into my abilities, as compared to how I feel now.”
He lowered the fork and tapped it on the side of his plate. “I really don’t think I can distinguish the two. Mana-holders come into their powers so gradually, there isn’t a finite line between the ‘then’ and the ‘now.’ Your experience is unique.”
He continued, “Probably, the absence of mana is how you did experience the world before your mana was unblanketed. It was normal for you, as it is for people who don’t have mana sense. But since your mana came to you all at once, you are painfully aware of the difference. Mana-free areas are like white noise you don’t even notice until it’s no longer there. Sudden silence screams at you.”
“So why did the area have no mana? Does that happen a lot?” She hoped not.
“No, not often. As you refine your ability to harness, you’ll find all areas have a slightly different mana strength. Most parts of Terath have some amount of mana. There’s a strong correspondence with plantlife. The mid-lats tends to have the greatest concentration, while the Sub-Apex and Apex areas of the planet tend to have the least. The hinterlands have some of the highest known concentrations. But a few apparently random spots here and there have none at all.”
“Why the difference?”
“Like other natural resources, such as water or minerals, mana is more concentrated in some areas and less in others. It’s the nature of mana. Actually, it’s a topic of research at the Institute of Mana Science right now, particularly why it corresponds to the abundance of plantlife. We’re always hoping to find more insight into the specific nature of mana.”
“Can manahi do more in an area with more abundant mana?”
“Yes, the more abundant the mana, the less effort required to harness it. If mana is scarce, it takes great harness ability and skill to pull in enough to use. In an area of low concentration like we’re in now, mana use is difficult, if not completely impossible. Joss has some of the greatest harness ability on Terath, and I don’t know if he could do anything in a spot like this. We should move past it soon after we get moving in the morning. Such places are usually fairly limited in size.”
“Joss has more harness ability than you.”
“Yes. But he does not have my amazing hairstyle.”
Kassimeigh laughed at his unexpected joke. A question poked its way into her mind and flailed about until she had to address it. “If he’s one of the great harness talents, how does my harness ability compare with his?”
Luc studied her with an expression that made her regret asking the question. Still, the question begged to be answered and she didn’t think it unreasonable to want to know.
“Joss’s great talent would fit in a corner of your talent’s pocket. However, he is also wonderfully skilled with his talent, while you’re an infant with a sledgehammer.”
She appreciated his forthrightness, but thought his analogy lacked subtlety. She knew she had a tremendous amount to learn, though, and felt no slight. “I’ve learned a great deal from Joss already, and hope to continue doing so.”
With her questions answered, she decided it was time to find some alone time for herself. She excused herself to her tent for some meditation.
Chapter 15
Two days later, spirits soared high as the battalion neared the former location of Umi Cabal. Shedding the heavy garments required of Apex and Sub-Apex had also peeled away a layer of melancholy. The switch from gray skies to the billowy blue ones that now soared above them also improved moods. Kassimeigh didn’t take those exterior conditions as personally as the others, but she did appreciate the change.
She also enjoyed seeing her friends’ spirits improve. She took advantage of a brief travel stop and watched them. As she leaned against a cart, she saw Meli bubbling with effervescence and enthusiasm at the long-forgotten wonders of the mid-lats. She chatted and laughed with as many people as she could fit in before they once again confined themselves into the carts. Izzy and Carston leaned toward each other, saying things meant only for their own ears. The sun drenched them all in warmth, allowing their cold-clenched bodies to unfurl like sails.
Floral scents wafted on the breeze, at odds with the charged atmosphere of the battalion. Three hundred combatants seethed for a showdown they had been anticipating for rather too long. They’d completed most of their journey, and Umi Cabal now seemed just steps away.
“How are you doing?” Ar
c positioned himself next to her and leaned back against the cart as she did. His manner was off-hand, but Kassimeigh knew exactly what he was asking. He’d given her the option of answering the question at face value.
She chose not to brush it off, but to allow him into her experience. “I’m working at it. Primarily, my concern is our confrontation with Anguish. Meanwhile, little thoughts occur to me from time to time. Snippets of the past. Things I hadn’t thought of in years.”
“Is it hard to go back? Do you wish you didn’t have to go to Umi Cabal?”
She exhaled, and appreciated that lack of accompanying vapor. “I don’t think I’ll know how hard it will be until we get there and I see it. The idea of going there is too academic at this point. But I know there will be nothing to see but Terath itself, since there won’t be any of the buildings or landmarks I equate in my mind with my childhood hometown. As for wishing I didn’t have to go there, there’s no point. Railing against reality only causes pain. Acceptance is the only way to find peace.”
“Very shiv-like. But how does mourning fit in with acceptance? Are they not at odds?”
“Not at all. I accept the loss of my home and its traditions and my friends and my mother. I accept that I grew up without her and she will never see the person I am, or will become. But it’s only human to note and acknowledge her absence in my life.”
