by E A Bagby
My jaw dropped. I felt slapped. Yes, the role came with high expectations. But had she just shown me a thirst for vibrancy that my toiling over stories could not offer?
“Oh, Giels. I’m sorry,” Cleo said. She must have seen defeat on my face.
My heart pounded. I swallowed. “Why’s this adventure any better than the one we can do later?”
Cleo turned away. “For the reasons I’ve said. For the reason that it’s something new that may never happen again, especially if the council is worried.”
Oh, why did I bring up the damn council? Was everything I had been working for melting away? The words “kiss me” escaped my lips. It was a reflex, a way to demand what I desired.
Cleo glanced around the room, a hint of a shocked smile on her face.
“Giels, please open this door,” my mother’s muffled voice said, now in a scolding tone. I wished the woman would just go away.
“Kiss? Your mother is right there!” Cleo said with a raspy whisper.
“She believes we’re kissing anyhow.”
“That’s ridicu—”
“Both of you,” said the voice beyond the door. “I will need to come in out of fear something is wrong.”
“See?” I said. “That’s exactly what she’s thinking.” By wrong, my mother certainly meant she thought we were being too intimate. Cleo looked unconvinced.
“If she’s already suspicious, it’s a terrible time to kiss, Giels,” Cleo whispered, her face flushed red. “You know I love you, but I promise there’s time to kiss”—she grabbed my hand that held the recorder and raised it—“after we go on the adventure.”
Cleo stood, slapped the door’s open button, and slid past my mother.
Looking at my mother, I casually dropped the recorder in my pocket. She cocked her head to the side as though noticing my disappointment.
My friends’ prank did nothing to motivate me, just as my attempt to tell Cleo what I wanted seemed to do little for her. But Cleo’s words echoed in my mind. She feared the doldrums of adulthood. She wanted the adventure Erikal offered. She wanted it so much that she had spent much of her time with him.
I ate my lunch in silence, except for when I told my mother that I wanted to go with Cleo.
“Is that what you talked about in your room? Even if the council would accommodate you,” she said, “it is too late to ask. The practice is tomorrow. The Equis is in three weeks. Put journeys out of your mind. Get what you need to get done now, and you could always do that someday.”
I felt like a tassel-goat’s ass. It was as though Erikal planned an adventure cleverly so that Cleo would go, but not me. Had Meritus purposefully scared the council to make it more difficult for me to go? My fist clenched so hard my nails dug in.
Someday, my mother had said. That was exactly what Cleo did not want—someday. I hated that everyone else thought they could decide what I did while my friend took her away tomorrow.
In the deep dark of that night, I lay in my room toying with the recorder. After my father deactivated the last of our home’s artificial lights, I remained there, trying to discern, through the darkness, the familiar texture of the concrete ceiling. Despite myself, a tear fell from my eye. All of my toils, pent up, leaked into my mind, then flooded, making me realize I had worked too hard for too many years to lose what I wanted; to, in the end, become staid and uptight like Elder Sparus, and my mother.
I dressed in a fresh set of day clothes and paced my room. Erikal may not have actually needed the recorder, nor wanted me to join them, but Cleo said something I could not let go of—that we would kiss after we return from the adventure. She would come for me.
And, despite my parents, the shamans, the Equis, my future, my heritage, and everything all of that meant to me, I knew if she did arrive, I would join her.
4
An Otherwise Normal Morning
No dreams followed me when I awakened from my deep sleep.
I lay with my eyelids shut. That restless night, after stubbornly waiting hours for Cleo to come to me, I had finally succumbed to Hypantasos, the god of slumber. But something had stirred me to consciousness.
“It’s us,” a voice from nowhere said. Could I be hearing a spirit’s voice? I had once overheard my father say that a disembodied voice means the listener could be a shaman.
“Giels.” It talked again.
I stiffened, and my eyes blinked open. Very little moonlight entered my room. The night remained black, as it was before I fell asleep.
“We’re leaving.”
My body relaxed. No spirit talked. A little more awake, I knew the voice as well as I knew my own—Cleo. She had come.
In that leadened light, my eyes adjusted a little, revealing the vaguest outlines of their figures in my room. Cleo, Erikal, Meritus, and Alana. After believing they had gone without me, my heart lifted. They were like the brightest stars my eyes stray to in the blackest sky. At that moment, I even forgot any annoyance with Erikal.
Cleo closed her fingers around my wrist and pulled, and I followed her gentle tug like a doll on a string. Alana shoved a pair of shoes against my chest. I checked my pocket to be sure I had the recorder, the object that supposedly instigated the trip. All four friends pushed me out of my room and into the main living area. Fortunately, I had slept in my day clothes.
“Stay quiet,” Cleo said. “You don’t want your parents waking.”
Alana moved her lips close to my ear. “Especially to ask questions about where we’re going. Erikal wants it secret.”
“Have you decided?” I asked.
“Shhhh,” Cleo and Alana said in unison.
The pair wrapped their arms under mine to help my still-half-asleep body through the house. Erikal and Meritus followed. The main door slid up with a hiss.
“That door’s so loud,” Cleo whispered.
The light of at least two moons, I could not see which ones, filtered through the forest canopy.
“Thought it would be brighter,” I said.
“It will be,” Erikal said from behind. “Emba is rising now, and Hola will soon. It’s only an hour to midnight.”
The girls pulled me to Erikal’s vehicle. Seeing it up close made me believe I might have been dreaming. Its articulated exoskeleton followed natural curves and ridges, like some mythical insect. But in the dark, I hardly had a moment to take in Erikal’s newest invention before he lifted me through its door—I was not small; he just had that strength.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Meritus said.
I did not answer. Instead, I pushed my tired body onto a pile of pillows on the floor.
Several tiny green lamps blinked on throughout the oblong vaulted interior. The beauty of the complex chromadium and copper paneling struck me, especially in the green light.
Like all cabs, its interior consisted of a little more than an empty, carpeted floor and a control panel up front. But Cleo and Erikal had not exaggerated about its size. Being spacious enough for us with plenty of room to spare, it had to be the largest in the Deo, and the first where the drivers could stand at the controls.
Meritus tossed me a piece of dried meat as he entered. “I helped him build it.”
Cleo entered behind him. “We all helped,” she said, taking a sampling of his snack as she passed.
“I—really only helped prepare food,” Alana said, grabbing the handholds and pulling herself onto the door’s threshold.
“And you were excellent at that,” Meritus said.
I rubbed my eyes as they talked excitedly.
Cleo moved to the large forward windows and glanced over at me with an almost embarrassed smile. Was it because we talked about kissing? She seemed genuinely pleased to see me.
Meritus and Alana slid across the carpet to sit against the sidewall opposite me and leaned against each other. Alana gazed around the interior as though she had not yet seen it. She must have walked to my home. I would expect anyone to be as surprised or amazed as I, but simple acknowledgment fille
d the girl’s eyes more than wonder.
Meritus had introduced us to Alana only recently, just weeks before I started studying for the Equis, so I hadn’t spent much time with her. She had seemed like a disquieted mystery, afraid to speak except when necessary. But she talked much more when around only us, as though she had quickly gained the comfort of a yearslong friendship.
In the faint green light, I noticed the others were wearing clothes in a patchwork of colors in curving, amorphous shapes—like twisting teardrops, meandering lines, and eggs. They must have been Cleo’s designs, as she had been getting creative with her textile patterns. Only I wore our traditional Deoan white clothes with a few rigid blue lines around the shoulders, arms, and waist.
I had been away from them for three months, and suddenly they were making recorders, giant cabs, and eccentric clothes.
“You look confused,” Meritus said. “I suppose you didn’t think we’d come get you?”
“Had a feeling,” I responded.
“Of course he did,” Alana said. Her thick, wavy hair covered much of her face, as it often did, her eyes tucked halfway behind the thicket. “Giels has shaman blood in him.”
“Ooh,” Meritus said, “predicting the future, are you?”
I smiled. “Hardly.” I did not know if Alana really believed I could predict the future, but I knew Meritus was teasing me. “I found out you needed my recorder. Risky plan leaving it with me.”
Meritus smiled and tossed a piece of dried meat in his mouth. “If you refused to join us, we’d have sweet-talked it from you.”
I dismissively waived my hand at him. “I’m surprised you pulled me from my bed. I thought you wouldn’t want me to go.” I said it before I realized how it could make me sound sorry for myself. Even though, in a way, I did.
“Why wouldn’t we want you to go?” Cleo said.
“Well, not that you didn’t want—I mean, I thought you’d be worried about me missing the rehearsal tomorrow.”
“You’re still on that?” Cleo said. She rolled her eyes. “No one cares. I assure you.”
“The shamans care.”
“Oh, they’re just pretending to care to make it all feel more serious.”
Interesting thought, but I doubted it. It was serious.
“Besides,” Erikal said, “your knowledge of lore might be handy.”
“Lore?” I said, but no one responded. Did Erikal genuinely want me there? Had I invented his dark motives?
Erikal joined Cleo at the front and their hands took the controls. They adjusted the two wings’ many facets to catch the invisible, divine magic we are taught rises from the ground. The imperceptible energy pushed on the facets, lifting the enormous cab. We rose several feet above the dew-and-moonlight-soaked garden of my family’s home. The vehicle levitated unusually high, maybe eight feet instead of the typical two or three.
Alana slid on her pillow as we rose. “Oh, the Sun!”
“How high does it go?” I asked.
Erikal stuck his hand out as if gauging our elevation. “This is about it.” The machine’s exterior Sunfire lights remained deactivated. Even so, Meritus and Alana watched through the side windows as we silently floated away from the earthen berm of my home.
“Does anyone plan to tell me where we’re going?” I asked, rubbing my eyes again.
Cleo turned. A slight smile pushed up her smooth cheeks. She held me with her bright gaze, as if to build up my anticipation. “We’re going to the cave,” she said, as sweet as syrup. Based on her casual tone, she might as well have been saying “to a friend’s house.” But I knew what she referred to—the Wind Cave.
So that’s why they need me for lore.
Our traditional stories, which I was well versed in, often talked about the Wind Cave’s magic and dangers, and the impossibility of entering. Only shamans, on rare occasions, visited its entrance for prayer and ceremony. No other Deoans had gone to take a look at the sacred opening—not recently, anyway. My tired mind did not immediately register the unusualness of our journey.
Erikal and Cleo followed the Deo Stream. After thirty minutes, I saw no more little artificial lights through the trees that marked homesteads, which seemed very fast. Homes dotted the stream to about eight miles out, and going beyond them should have taken four times as long.
As Erikal had promised, the moonlight had indeed brightened. Through the break in the forest canopy over the stream, I occasionally caught glimpses of four moons, including the two brightest, Emba and Hola. The forest, which had been deep with shadow, slowly came into view as shades of grey as the bright moons rose. I had seen nighttimes that bright, but they were indeed rare.
Never before had I gone past the farthest home. But my heavy eyelids failed me in my desire to watch the dim, foreign scene.
* * *
A thunderous clap awakened me. It had grown light outside. Grey clouds pockmarked the blue sky. Somewhere beyond sight, a thunderstorm raged.
We travelled over a large stream in a deep gorge having sides laden with moss and flora. Trees towered in the forest above.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Good morning,” Cleo said. “Deo Stream, still, but hours downstream. Much further than we’ve ever been. We’re not going west anymore. Did you know the stream turned northward?” I shook my head, even though I had heard that.
Meritus and Alana stretched and rubbed their eyes as though they had just awakened also.
“Wow,” Meritus said. “What people say is true, the stream does get bigger.”
The roaring waterway splashed and dropped with white water, but the cab only bobbed slightly above it all.
Down the gorge’s sides, water fell like hairy tails, or poured like showers.
“Waterfalls!” I shouted and pointed. The Deo was almost entirely flat, and I had never before seen a waterfall.
“You’ve already missed some big ones,” Cleo said.
I had slept for hours. Now fully awake, the realization clicked how far my friends planned to travel. “Cleo, Erikal, the Equis is in two weeks. I need to have at least a week and a half to perfect the story. I’m sure they’ll have me perform, even if—” Even if I’ve messed up my chances.
“That’s why we’re hurrying,” Erikal said. Wholly focused on driving, he did not turn around to look at me.
“I can’t go the entire way. It’s a week just to get to the cave.”
“I think Erikal’s trying to prove something—like it’s a challenge,” Meritus said. “Why else try to get back in three days?”
“What is a foregone conclusion cannot be a challenge,” Erikal said.
I had not known Erikal to exaggerate—but neither had he ever made the journey. How could he be so confident? “Three days? There and back? That’s impossible.” I looked to Meritus for agreement.
He shrugged one shoulder.
Despite Erikal’s talent for designing on the computer, no cab has come close to the speed he was suggesting. The most recent generation of shamans has declined to go on the pilgrimage because of the journey’s difficulty. A paranoia creeped in that Erikal did have ulterior motives, that he wanted to sabotage me. But why would he do that? He’s one of my best friends and said he wants me here. Then again, if he had designs on Cleo, perhaps he’s gained an advantage whether I came or not.
The sky soon shifted to grey, and whirling plumes of dark, angry clouds accosted mountain peaks above the gorge. Tohillocen, the shadow goddess of rain, caves, and inner thought, suddenly poured with a fury.
Thunder from Etargoren, the great generator and god of power, rolled across the land and vibrated the vehicle’s floor.
“The esteemed elders are deciding your fate, huh?” Meritus said, and tossed me a slice of cured meat. I hit it with my palm, and it ricocheted back. He tried to catch it with his mouth but missed.
“If it’s all fate, I wouldn’t worry about getting back,” I said.
Meritus turned to the drivers. “See, Erikal? Told you he
wouldn’t go if you gave away the destination.”
Cleo spun around, genuinely surprised. “You knew?”
Meritus threw his arms behind his head. “Figured it out days ago.”
I scoffed. “You’re right, I wouldn’t go that far based on a prank message.”
“Oh! It’s not a prank after all,” Cleo said. “Erikal’s here. Ask him.”
“It’s not a prank,” Erikal said.
Rainwater cascaded down the cab’s windows, blurring our view, which only happened in the heaviest of downpours thanks to the water-shedding properties of windshield glass. Raging stream water lapped through the vehicle’s side vents, wetting the floor. Erikal activated the bright exterior Sunfire lamps, but the added light did little. From the blurred view, it looked like the stream funneled through cliffs, giving us nowhere to stop.
“Water’s coming in. Why are you so low?” I said.
“Can’t fly any higher,” Cleo said. “It’s the ground we levitate above, not the water. The stream’s so deep.” Water pounded through the vents as waves hit us. Erikal pressed his face close to a windshield pane. “We might get a little soaked.”
I probably should have been focused on the danger, but I could not drop the subject. “Why in the world between the earth and sky would we go to the cave?”
“It could be a human spirit in the recorder,” Alana said, just loud enough to hear above the storm.
The torrent swelled the Deo Stream and its tributaries. The cab continued to bob up and down, struggling to hover above the rapids. Water splashed in, still, inundating the carpet, so I stood. I didn’t know what Erikal was up to, but I started to have the feeling Cleo’s hunch from the day before had been right. The council would not allow another trip after this.
“The Journey to Salihandron,” Alana said, staring at me.
Chills ran along my arms. Salihandron, the death escort, the messenger, the spirit-vehicle. Most gods merely influenced the mortal World from afar, but Salihandron visited it regularly. He, she, or it, had no corporeal form, only illusions. The Journey to Salihandron was a story few wished to know. I did, of course. Apparently, Alana knew it too. I quoted from it aloud:
