Ahdan

by Nikki Clarke

  Shay looks like she wants to jump across the boat, but before I have a chance to calm her, we hit a rock and jolt to the side. We gasp in unison and turn to the waters ahead of us. Large rocks jut out of the river, which breaks against their surfaces with crashing waves.

  “Is it supposed to be like this?” I ask as we near the first set of rocks.

  “I don't know.” Amina sounds concerned. “The boat will probably steer us fine. I mean, it’s Lyqa, right?”

  I shrug, and we turn to look at Ze'lah seeking clarification. She blinks and looks between us. “Do I appear as if I know technology, Lyqa or otherwise? I would assume the same as Amina, but I have never participated in this activity before.”

  Great. We’re getting closer. The boat undulates as we rush along the current, and everyone seems to instinctively sink lower and grab the rails.

  Just at the moment we would hit the first rock, the raft turns sharply, and we list to the side. All six of us suck in a breath as we even out and bob easily along.

  My heart is racing. It wasn't as bad as I expected, but I look ahead to the next dip in the river, and my anxiety kicks up. The already narrow river is dissected by a maze of rocks lining the stream. With no way to manually steer, we have to hope that the boat can make the necessary turns fast enough without making contact.

  It takes the first shift at just the last second, and I nearly tumble, but my tight grip on the handle keeps me from falling all the way over. Still, my body collides heavily with Amina, who grunts in pain and dominoes into Ebony.

  “I’m sorry.” I barely have the words out before we’re all thrown to the other side as the boat shifts again. It’s evading the rocks just fine, but it’s doing it too fast and with too much force for us to keep up with the sudden changes in movement. The only one who seems to be able to keep a steady hold is Ze'lah, and that’s until Shay loses her grip and falls to the back of the boat, catapulting into her. Ze'lah tries to hold her ground, but so much water has spilled over into the raft that she slips, and almost in slow motion, goes over the side, taking Shay with her.

  “Shit, Shay!” Tee reaches out, but they’re already overboard. Right before Shay went over, she yelled something, but it was quickly swallowed by the roar of the river. I stand as much as I can and try to look back to where they went in, but we make another turn, and a rock blocks my view of where they fell.

  “Shay!” Amina’s voice is terrified as she screams her sister’s name. She stands up, ignoring the rock of the boat and frantically scans the area behind us. I'm just about to tell her to sit down when Tee's eyes widen in panic, and she flinches down, causing me to turn to see where she’s looking. Before I can spin around, the raft reacts and shifts again. I fly to the side, my feet flipping up. I hear the combined screams of Tee, Ebony, and Amina before the current pulls my legs down and my head goes under water.

  AH'DAN

  In the quiet of the camp, a distant shout sounds out.

  “Sol!”

  The single word is cut off sharply, and I and my brothers halt on the activity bench. My paint brush suspends in the air as I train my hearing.

  “Was that Shay?” Kwarq’s brow furrows, and he turns his head like he is also straining to hear.

  "Did she sound upset?" Bati also looks disturbed.

  To our right, the door to Sol and LaShay's cabin opens, and Sol emerges, hopping down the flight of stairs, and taking off toward the wood. He runs fast, breaking the tree line and charging through the forest. A moment later, Kyr also appears from his cabin and proceeds with equal urgency after him.

  They startle some of my kin who stand around the camp, and I and my brothers watch in question as they fly past us. Instinctively I stand, ready to see if we can be of assistance when my heart thumps. It is a twisting pain that makes me grab at my chest. Kwarq and Bati also gasp a moment later, and our gazes meet as we realize what is wrong. Our lehti are in danger.

  Kwarq drops the piece of wood in his hands and takes off, heading toward the place where Sol and Kyr disappeared. Bati races after him, and I launch myself over the table and run at the back. We move fast. The tension in my chest winds tighter, spurring me on, pulling me toward Ze'lah. The instinctual part of me, the part of me connected to her on a biological level, urges onward, giving me the strength I need to push myself further and faster.

  “No. Please, no.”

  Kwarq’s whispered prayer floats back on the air that rushes by. Finally, we clear the trees and emerge on the banks of the river. Kwarq veers to the left, launching himself from the surrounding rocks and diving into the water. Bati continues forward, and a moment later he too dives into the riotous waves. My chest cramps again, pulling me to the right. I turn, spotting Ze'lah among the waves, fighting to swim against the current. She was never a very good swimmer. Her water vest is keeping her afloat, but she bobs beneath the waves, taking in water.

  I go to her, my heart thumping, that ache like a spear in my chest. Just when I would jump from the bank, I spy a dark mass of curls in the corner of my eye, and my middle jerks. The urgency of the leht interrupts as something pulls against it. It feels like the moment when you jump from one galaxy to another. It is jarring and as powerful as the force of gravity, and I know right away that it is Niya. I hone in on where she works to stay above the rolling waves and jump from the bank, landing in an empty space between her and Ze’lah. I turn between them, the leht pulling me one way and my connection to Niya pulling me another.

  Others have arrived, and all around are the sounds of people shouting.

  My First heart cramps, and I spin to my left, locking eyes with Ze’lah. When she sees me, relief floods her exhausted face, and I push in her direction, my First heart beating madly, driving me toward my lehti, triggering my instinct to save her.

  “Help, please.”

  I am nearly there when Niya’s desperate call reaches my ears over the swoosh of the river. I falter, pausing in the water again to look back. My vision is clouded with the leht, but I focus and she becomes clear.

  Her face is strained. She bobs further away, unable to fight the current, and her body goes limp as she slips beneath the water.

  Everything goes quiet. The only sound is that of my heart, thumping thumping, and a feeling like my very souls is being ripped from my body overtakes me. At my back, Ze’lah pulls against my First heart, and I know I should go to her. There are too many implications if I do not, but as I watch Niya get further away, I know that there would be no pain greater than never seeing her face again. I push off, moving through the water toward her quickly retreating form.

  Someone help Ze’lah, I send out in my mind, hoping one of the Somii receives it. It is all I can do because I cannot turn back now.

  I swim fast, faster than I ever have. My shoulders burn, my legs burn, my chest feels as if it will split open the further I get away from Ze’lah, but I can only see Niya.

  I reach her at a rise in the river, pulling her up against me. I clutch around her chest, pumping forcefully against her sternum, and she coughs, spitting up water and clutching at my arms. Relief washes over me as I make my way to the bank. I pull us up onto the soft mud of the shore, my chest heaving, and fall back, pulling Niya against me. I listen to her breaths, the steady beat of her heart, and I thank the Universe that she is okay.

  Beside me, E’lii collapses onto his knees with Ze’lah in his arms. She turns to her side, expelling the water from her lungs. And when her eyes meet mine, there is only a moment of confusion before it shifts to something else, a reluctant acceptance perhaps. I shake my head, my throat closing with emotion.

  “I am sorry,” I say to her. “I could not leave her. I love her. I could not—”

  Ze’lah’s head jerks in understanding, and she turns into E’lii.

  “Za’an, please take my lehti to the healers. She does not look well.”

  E’lii lifts her and heads in the direction of the camp, and at once the chaos of the moment erupts around me.

&
nbsp; I sit up, looking across the bank, searching for the others. A few paces away, Bati lowers is mouth to Tiani's, giving her his air. I watch in stunned silence, afraid to even breathe myself, until Tee coughs, sending a geyser of water from her mouth. Bati pulls her up against him with an anguished cry and holds her to his chest. She presses close to him, shaking.

  Up the bank, Kwarq carries a sobbing Amina from the water. Like Ze'lah, she is also wearing a vest. Two pairs of silver legs break my line of sight, and I look up to see Sol and Kyr walking past, each carrying their wives, who both appear, thankfully, unharmed. I release a sigh of relief. Everyone is okay.

  A moment after he passes, Sol stops and turns with Shay in his arms.

  “I-is Niya okay?” She’s shaking, and her terrified face drips with water.

  “I have her,” I reply simply, and Shay’s eyes soften.

  “Good.”

  I stand, bringing Niya with me. I haul her high up on my body, pressing her to my chest, and lay my cheek on her soaked hair.

  "Don’t let me go," she whispers, and I nod.

  “I have you, saeh’ti,” I murmur as I push through the wood, dodging trees and jumping over felled logs. "I have you."

  “Look at me, you are never going near water again.” Bati hugs Tiani as we all sit in the wellness cabin where several healers move about the cots checking the others.

  “Babe, I’m fine.”

  “You were not breathing!” Bati’s voice rises, and he covers his face. Tiani climbs onto his lap and wraps her arms around him.

  “Bati, I’m fine. You saved me—again. I’m fine. No more water. Ever. I promise.”

  He looks up at her with reddened eyes.

  “What would I have said to our children?” His face pales like he’s going to be sick, and Tiani squeezes him tight, wrapping her arms around his head, and pulling him to her chest.

  “Sweetie, please. I’m okay. You feel that? Do you feel my heart? I’m okay.”

  Bati rises, taking Tiani with him, and leaves the cabin without another word.

  I understand his distress. The healers took Niya and Ze'lah away as soon as we entered. The only reassurance I have of their condition is that my heart still beats—although, the ache is also there, and it has not ceased since the river—and across the room, Niya is being checked by a healer. I was reluctant to leave her, but because she had been in the water the longest, her temperature needed to be raised, and I was forced to watch her from afar.

  The healer runs a scanner over her and a moment later gives her a shot from a healing pen. I watch, waiting until he has left, before pushing off of the wall to go to her. I cannot wait any longer.

  As I approach, she looks up and my spirit soars at the love that shines in her eyes. I sit on the cot, careful not to jostle her, and take her hand, bringing it to my lips.

  “Saeh’ti—”

  “You came to me.”

  I shake my head as I recall the fear of that moment. “I could not lose you. You are mine. I could not lose you.”

  I lower my head, and she smooths her free hand over my hair.

  “You chose me, Ah’dan.”

  I look up to find her watching me with hope and longing. “I will always choose you. Always.”

  Her mouth curves into a gentle smile, and her leans forward to press a kiss to my lips.

  “I love you,” she whispers between our mouths.

  “And I love you.”

  “Sa’qi, your lehti has awakened. She has requested to see you.”

  I jump away from Niya and turn to the healer, hesitant to go to Ze'lah, but Niya saves me from having to choose by pushing lightly at my arm.

  “Go on, babe. Make sure she’s okay. I’ll be here.”

  I take the reassurance of her words and follow the healer to the private room in the back of the cabin.

  ***

  “I am glad you are well, Ze'lah.”

  She frowns from her place on the cot as I enter the small private room where she was being cared for.

  “Do you no longer address me properly? Do our hearts not beat together?”

  I swallow. The ache is back, and I see her flinch.

  “You are my lehti,” I concede.

  She smiles, but it is tinged with sadness, and pats the place beside her on the bed. Tentatively, I move forward and lower myself. When she holds her hand out to me, I take it, and the connection between us vibrates through our palms.

  “I am glad that you are well,” I say again.

  “It is a good thing E’lii was there to save me as it seems my lehti was unable to do so.”

  She does not say this unkindly, but still I feel shame.

  “You would have allowed me to die?” She seems more surprised than anything when she asks this.

  I shake my head. “Never. I knew there were others to save you, and you had a vest, but I could not have lived had Niya perished.”

  She smiles and squeezes my hand. "You could not have lived had I perished."

  "I would have taken that risk," I admit. "I hope you understand why."

  She sighs, suddenly appearing tired. Her skin has not returned to its previous luster, and she lays heavily against the bed.

  “I understand that despite my best efforts, you have found a love more true than ours. I am happy for you, but it only makes what I need to say more difficult. It may have been best if I had not been saved. Accidents are always easier.”

  “How do you mean?” I do not like the turn her tone has taken. It feels--ominous.

  “I have been living on Qiton,” she says, changing the subject, and I do not attempt to hide my surprise.

  “So close?”

  She has always felt far away, quadrants and quadrants away.

  She nods.

  “I was never very fond of the planet, but they have very advanced medical facilities there.”

  This is true. Qitoni science is very unique in that it is based on aquatic nature, which has some of the most complex and fascinating organisms in the galaxies. I am ready to dismiss her comment as simple statement of fact until I realize her scent has turned nervous. My First heart skitters with her anxiety.

  “Were you there for medical treatment?”

  She looks away to fidget with the coverlet draped over her lower body. “I was.”

  Fear, pungent and overwhelming, crowds out the nervousness I am receiving from her. “Are you unwell?”

  She looks up, her eyes shining at the rims with tears. “I did not mislead you when I said I did not come to disrupt your happiness. I had hoped that I could end things the way they should be, with us together, but it seems the best I can do now is warn you.”

  My First heart thumps wildly, each pulse sending an aching stab through my chest. “Warn me of what, lehti?”

  She holds my gaze, her expression set, and I know right away that nothing she says will be good. “That I am dying.”

  The room seems to close in as I stare at her in stunned silence.

  “How do you mean? What is wrong?”

  “Apparently, my heart is corrupted,” she offers with a weak laugh. “It has turned on itself, consuming the muscle from the inside out. I found out shortly after I left you and had hoped that there would be some way to fix it, but it has only gotten worse.”

  The pains, those aching stabs that even now burn through my chest. I rub a hand absently over my First heart, and she smiles sadly.

  “I thought perhaps you may have felt it, but I hoped not too much. I have spent much of my time in resting periods. The pain can be unbearable.”

  And this is why she felt so far away. If the pain was too great, her body would slow, trying its best to heal. She would feel distant in the depths of sleep.

  "I do not understand. Your heart has felt strong.” Except when it has not. Except when it was a stabbing pain through my chest. Still, I will not believe it, even as the evidence of what she has told me is clear when I examine her appearance. She looks more frail than I remember. The
exuberance she had when she first arrived is gone, and in its place is a weakening that can only mean one thing.

  “My efforts were not wasted on Qiton. They offered some comfort. They assisted my heart for a time as they searched a cure to my ailment. It allowed me a chance to come find you.”

  I do not know what to say. Just beyond the reality of what she has told me of her condition are the implications of what it means. Death is a part of this existence; it is something that Lyqa do not fight or fear. But as my lehti, Ze’lah’s impending death means something else.

  “This is why you came here?”

  “I could feel you were happy, and I remembered how it was with us at one time. I wanted that again, one last time before the end, but it was selfish. I was selfish, but I am glad that I sought you out. Knowing that you have found someone, I would not have you caught off guard.”

  And yet I am. I stand, stepping back from the cot, needing space to make sense of what she says, needing space to convince myself that this is not real, but I know it is. I can feel it now.

  “There are things you can do,” I urge, rushing back to her side. “Your heart can be replaced.”

  “Can yours?” The simple question is posed softly, putting a halt to my argument. “Your heart beats for my heart. I could accept this treatment, but that would still leave you to your fate. I do not fear death, and even if you believe otherwise, I have always loved you, so I would not save myself and leave you to perish. I am sorry we are bound in this way. I am sorry that it must be this way for you.”

  She covers my hand again, and when I look at her, there is nothing but acceptance in her gaze. She has made up her mind, but she is still my lehti, and there is no part of me that wishes to see her die. Even at the river, when I chose Niya, it was with the knowledge that she may not be saved. I had been willing to accept that reality because there was no way I could not choose Niya. In this instance, if I had no choice, I would accept what Ze'lah has decided, but that is not the case.