by Tyler Vance
Sheikoh observed none of that here.
Sure, the people around him were a little quieter than usual. There was less pushing and everyone moved a little more orderly, but there was no fear in the people around him. There was caution, certainly. Carts and rented Swifthooves kept a careful distance around them, but people didn’t spill into alleyways like they would when Redline passed by.
Had Ghost been telling him the truth?
Sheikoh jostled through the waves of faces until he was close enough to examine one of the men. He glanced at the tattoo of the snake winding around the grizzled man’s neck, and then his stomach went leaden. The man’s eyes were yellow, stained with Four. Emili’s ruined face streaked across the back of his eyes, a glimpse of a nightmare. Yellow eyes flashed into memories of Emili’s dying face.
Sheikoh clenched his fists in his pockets, gripping handfuls of black denim. His chest bunched up in a tight ball. Fire flashed behind his eyes. This was the point that dissipated any sliver of redemption. Legacy had never been anything more than a gang of dealers and scum. They’d taken Emili from him and Dorothi, tricked her and then strung her along to die in his arms. Her last words were an apology for their crimes. Sheikoh could never forgive them.
Emili’s death, her rasping chokes and withered frame, spilled into Sheikoh’s mind. He could see the clumps of hair that’d fallen onto her pillow-
Sheikoh shook his head. Emili hadn’t spent her life as a zombie. He needed to remember Emili as she’d lived. Not in the state of living death that Four had exiled her to. He forced and his thoughts on Emili’s bright, crooked smile and memories of happier times. The time they’d laid awake through all hours of the night, talking and comforting one another. Laughing at a joke one moment and then soothing the other’s tears the next.
Sheikoh’s body kept pace with the pushing sea of traffic, but his eyes were uncharacteristically out of focus. He thought over everything that was happening; Dekla’s arrogance, Indigo’s rescue, the Arch Centaurai’s threats, Ghost’s revelation and the Celestial’s offer. Everything was happening so fast, and now he was perched at the precipice of two murders.
With this amulet, Sheikoh could no doubt complete the Arch Centaurai’s task and kill Dream.
Alternatively, he follow Dream’s plan and kill the other Celestial.
Sanatous.
Someone he knew nothing about.
Of course, there was always the “conventionally right” method. Sheikoh could take Dorothi and run for the hills in fear of taking action. He could shatter both of their lives and earn two, incredibly powerful adversaries, all to avoid taking a life. Force Dorothi to pay for all of his mistakes.
Sheikoh snorted to himself. That wasn’t even an option.
And neither was working for the Arch Centaurai really. Sheikoh didn’t trust the dude as far as he could throw him.
Which meant he was murdering the Celestial, Sanatous.
Rationalizations on the nature of death coursed through his thoughts, and conjecture pointed an accusing finger at Sanatous. Sheikoh had killed before, and he’d always known he would do so again, but something about it felt ice cold.
The familiar sense of detachment rose in him.
Emotion fell silent. Yet Sheikoh still felt cold.
What would Emili say?
Sheikoh walked along the sidewalk, lost in thought. He didn’t realize where his feet were carrying him until he was already there. Just in front of him was the dark, wooden gate protecting Sheikoh’s quiet place, his personal, public garden that the public had no interest in. For a moment, Sheikoh thought about visiting Dorothi beneath the trapdoor. But, if he was being honest with himself, he knew he needed to be alone.
As much as he loved Dorothi, he played the part of a parent. Something about their dynamic just made it the only kind of relationship they could have. Sheikoh just couldn’t make their thing feel brother-sister, it never felt natural. His mentality was too protective, too, ‘always put Dorothi first.’ He didn’t mind it that way, but there wasn’t any room for self-doubt.
Few days went by without him wishing that he had someone to guide him. Someone who understood the impossible maze of right and wrong that twisted through his world. Sheikoh stood at the edge of the world, along and afraid. Growing up had never been his strong suit.
Sheikoh walked into the garden and leaned up against the ivy-cloaked wall and let his body slide to the ground, bringing a few, fluttering leaves down along with him. He closed his eyes, and Emili’s smile flashed into his thoughts. The all important question flickered through his mind again; what would Emili have said?
But then, Sheikoh remembered. He asked himself something better.
What had she actually said?
Chapter 11
Vacation
The enhanced animal was blindingly fast - as fast as it’d been born to be. Faster even than his overdrive. Sheikoh held Emili’s waist tight, as the surrounding country dissolved into a green blur. He buried his face in her stained, yellow shirt and waited for it to end.
Emili had told him; “The Swifthooves runs at about 55 mph carrying all of us and our bags so we’ll probably make it to the cabin… in two hours?”
He’d nodded confidently back.
Sheikoh was currently exploring the depths confidence can sink in two hours.
It hadn’t sounded overly long. But crammed in the harness of a cheap springsaddle with two other bodies, Sheikoh learned firsthand how much riding could hurt.
Even for someone with metal legs.
Sheikoh glanced down at Dorothi, sitting on his lap. The poor girl was crammed between himself and Emili, trapped in the middle of a saddle meant for one. Her eyes were tracked with tears, and her mouth was opened in a wail that was stolen by the wind.
Sheikoh leaned down and rested his forehead on the girl in front of him in a small gesture of comfort. There wasn’t much else he could do. Sheikoh just kept his eyes closed and wrapped Dorothi in his arms. Whenever he felt her elbow, he tried to loosen his grip. But at the speed they were going, if he loosened them too much, he and Dorothi were as good as dead.
Sheikoh clenched his jaw.
The man they’d rented the Swifthooves from had told them they were fine three to a Swifthooves. He’d refused to give them more than a single helmet for the ride they’d paid to rent. The shiny, black helmet currently covered Emili’s face. Its plastic visor was the only thing that let her see where they were going.
Sheikoh’s left eye had been as good as blind, and even his right eye could barely keep up with the landscape blurring around them. He felt Dorothi breathe in beneath him, and he shifted a little, trying to give her some air.
“Are we there yet…” Sheikoh mumbled miserably.
His words were snatched by the howling wind before they’d had a chance to reach his ears.
The two hours the three children rode felt like a year of jolting bumps and aching muscles. Sheikoh was half-convinced it would never end. But finally, they made it to the edge of the Schizma Canopy. Emili kept at a gallop all the way to the edge of Alimiat Wray’s ramshackle hut. Then, at the dark’s edge of the murky woods, she finally slowed the animal to a trot.
Sheikoh looked up, relieved.
They rode the rolling gait, surveying the house at the edge of sprawling nature. The cabin was built of dirty, mismatched wood. Its single room was hanging with cobwebs and long pale-green moss, and the door was warped so the line between it and the hinges widened as the eye followed downwards. Plastic-sheathed windows stared from the dark walls.
Around the house, sparse pockets of gnarled trees grew, lonely looking compared to the massive forest just a ways back. The cabin leaned away from the woods. A seemingly endless crowd of trees looked on behind, silent and ominous. Like the building was trying to outrun an angry mob of trees.
“We made it,” Emili stated in tone of forced lightness.
“Yay. When do we leave?” Sheikoh responded.
Emili rapp
ed Sheikoh’s left arm with a knuckle, knocking it dead, and then she wrapped Dorothi in her arms and slid off the Swifthooves back. Sheikoh followed suit, swearing quietly. He stopped grumbling however, when Dorothi trained her red, reproachful gaze on him. Guilt surged in his chest; as uncomfortable as his time in the saddle had been, Dorothi’s had been worse.
Sheikoh resolved to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to be the one to ruin anyone’s first trip out of Interium. He shot a black look over at Emili. She stuck her tongue out at him in response.
They lead the Swifthooves to the building. Sheikoh swung the bags over his mechanized shoulder in a fluid motion, and the still-saddled Swifthooves trotted away to munch on a clump of coarse, yellow grass. Emili twisted the knob with an anxious expression, and Sheikoh imagined how horrible it would most likely be inside.
But their worries were groundless.
“Wow, this isn’t bad,” Sheikoh lilted with surprise. Emili flashed him a superior grin that seemed to say; ‘what did I tell you?’ He only smiled back; he knew Emili was just as surprised as he was.
The single room sprawled with desks and benches overflowing with mechanical tools, digits, half-finished arms, empty chemistry sets and tangled snakes of synaptic wire. The wallpaper was dingy and off-white, and the boards creaked ominously underfoot, but it was better than a vacation of mold and spider-webs.
Sliding his hand over the yellowing wallpaper, Sheikoh carried their bags to an empty corner of the room. He tossed the bags at the foot of a comfortable-looking, blue mattress. There was even a TV, but he couldn’t get it to turn on.
Emili held Dorothi on her shoulders where she stood in the doorway.
“Dibs on the bed,” Sheikoh called.
“Too bad, Sheek, me and Dorothi called it on the way here,” Emili said. Her sky-blue eyes were wide and innocent. “Right, Dodo Bird?”
“Right!” Dorothi agreed with a happy yawn.
“Not fair! You know you didn’t say anything on the ride here,” Sheikoh grumbled.
“We didn’t have to,” Emili explained, dead-panned. “We’ve got a Celestial link. Me and Dorothi can read each other’s minds.”
Dorothi put two small fingers on her temples.
“Right now Emi’s thinking that you need to take a bath Sheek!” Dorothi giggled. “You smell!”
Emili gasped in surprise.
“She’s right!” she exclaimed. “On both counts!”
Emili and Dorothi fell over one another, laughing their faces off. Sheikoh wanted to pretend to be mad, but he couldn’t help a tiny smile.
“Made it just for you!” Sheikoh giggled.
He ran at them and tackled the two girls to the ground, stuffing Emili’s face into his left armpit. The two girls squealed beneath him. Then Emili shoved him off; even though Sheikoh’s prosthetics were stronger than the average limb, they couldn’t compete with a longer arm’s torque.
For a while, the three of them laid there, laughing softly. They gazed at the rafters crisscrossing the ceiling and talked about little nothings that had them giggling all over again. They were having more fun than any of them had had for a long time. Sheikoh, for his part, was filled with a hysterical sort of exhaustion. Emili was so right, he admitted to himself. Taking a vacation had been a good idea.
Not long later, Emili asked Dorothi something and was met with the sound of quiet breathing. She twisted around and discovered Dorothi sound asleep, with a thumb hanging out of her mouth and her head lolling to the side. Emili got up, pressing a finger to her lips, and lifted her into bed. Then Sheikoh and Emili walked outside in silent agreement. They didn’t want to disturb Dorothi; she was obviously exhausted.
“She’s such a sweet thing,” Emili had half-whispered as they walked through the trees.
Sheikoh glanced over at her, unsure if she’d been addressing him or talking to herself. Emili caught his glance and tousled his hair.
“You’re sweet too. Even though you spend your half time as Silence.”
Emili’s gentle voice hardened around his street name.
“I know stealing isn’t sweet, but it’s the least I can do for us all,” Sheikoh muttered, abashed and looking to the side.
Emili pulled him into a one-arm hug.
“I know Sheek, I know. I just wish you’d repay me and Dad-
Emili hesitated.
“-Me and Alimiat-“
She shook herself tiredly.
“I wish you’d pay us back by living a normal life.”
“Yeah, I wish you were normal too,” Sheikoh responded, with mock concern
Emili giggled and pushed him into a stumble.
“You know what I mean,” she insisted.
“How do you know what I know, Emi?”
“Well, make sure you got the important thing down,” Emili smiled. “You’re one of the Wrays. For as long as you want to be.”
The words touched him deeper than Emili’d intended.
Sheikoh felt his eyes water, and strange, warm emotions whirled around inside his chest. He bit back a choke, determined not to let his tears fall. His eyes didn’t listen to him though; stinging tears sat at the edge of his vision and threatened to jump the cliff.
No.
Not here, not in front of Emili.
Hardened criminals like Silence don’t cry.
Sheikoh looked away and tried to think about something else. His thoughts landed on the Namars, who’d stood to the side and let Chain torture him. That made his eyes sting even more.
He owed Emili everything he was. She’d saved his life, as he lay dying and taken him in when he’d had nowhere else to go. She’d provided for him along with her sister and father, kept him from starving on the street. And she’d given him love at a time when he’d been completely alone. The Wrays had saved him in so many ways; Emili and Dorothi had quickly become Sheikoh’s moral compasses.
Everything had seemed so simple and picturesque, until the patterns were torn before his eyes, ripped into seams of hatred and despair. Sheikoh’s soul was scarred as his body, sliced open with veins of darkness. Now Emili and Dorothi were the two constants he had left.
Sheikoh was glad when Emili pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you so much Emili,” he whispered into her ear.
He let a single tear spill down his cheek. It tickled a line of his face, as though trying to cheer him up.
“There’s nothing to think me for. I would’ve done it for anyone,” Emili whispered back, assuming he was referring to her life-saving surgery on him.
Sheikoh didn’t bother correcting her.
They walked through the trees in companionable silence. They wandered until the old cabin was out of sight. Surrounded by bushes and trees, it was a sea of green. Furry animals he’d never seen before darted from secret holes and skimmed the edge of shadow. Sheikoh’s eyes followed them every direction.
Emili cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“But there was a reason we took a vacation out of Interium,” she told him in a different tone of voice.
Sheikoh felt her eyes on him. Curious, he met her pale, concerned gaze.
“You know that I’ve been hearing rumors about Silence,” Emili went on carefully. “The assassin Silence.”
“Sheikoh?” Emili looked at him seriously. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
Sheikoh’s chest lurched with shock. He bit his lip, and his eyes fell to the ground.
“We have enough money to survive!” Emili exclaimed, angry now he’d confirmed what she’d heard. “You don’t need to hire yourself out-“
“I’m not hiring myself out as an anything!” Sheikoh retorted, hurt sparkling in his eyes.
“Then what the hell are you doing?” Emili demanded. “Why is Silence a tagged killer?”
Emili’s severe voice echoed in the dense greenery. Emili’s eyes narrowed a little bit. She looked at him with a cold expression he’d never seen her wear before. Like she didn’t know who he was.
&n
bsp; Suddenly, Daneil’s face stuttered over Emili’s.
Hard lines of anger matched up perfectly.
No.
Sheikoh’s chest exploded with pain. Memory burned Daneil’s words into his chest, and rejection coursed through his veins.
Not again.
Ghosts of the words that’d torn him apart had him in their icy grip once again.
Sheikoh opened his mouth a fraction, but he couldn’t make a sound. His heart raced, and he began to hyperventilate.
Why couldn’t he do anything right?
He tried so hard.
“Sheikoh?” Emili prompted.
Sheikoh’s throat closed up and strangled his words.
Why had Emili even saved him? She should’ve let him die. He’d rather die than feel her hatred. Living wasn’t worth so much pain.
Sheikoh got it; he was subhuman.
He wasn’t worth loving.
He wasn’t worth anything.
“It was… I… Chain… I killed… her,” Sheikoh finally managed.
He closed his eyes and retreated deep into the core of his self. There, he suddenly found that he could say the words from the outside, as though they didn’t apply to him.
“The night you saved me,” he murmured. “I went over to the Lake and Arrow, that one bar, and I found her. Chain. I snuck behind her, and I just… stabbed…”
Emili nodded slowly.
Seconds stretched, as Sheikoh waited for reply.
Emili’s hand whipped across his face, and pain burrowed into his skin. The air resounded with a smack. Teardrops were torn from Sheikoh’s eyes. He stumbled backwards.
Despair weighed him; he tripped over a foot. Wind rushed through his hair, and he bounced; it hadn’t hurt as much as he’d expected, his impact had been softened by a bush.
Sticks prickling his back, Sheikoh closed his eyes, and he prayed he might disappear. There was nothing left for him. Everyone he’d ever loved had tossed him to the side.
