by Claire Luana
It was easy for Kemala to say. She wasn’t torn between two worlds. Two destinies.
“Follow your truth, Rika. Everything you need is within you, if you only have the courage to look within.”
“When I look within…it’s a mess,” Rika finally admitted, her emotions breaking over her like a tide.
“That is what it is to be human,” Kemala said with a smile, softening the severity of her beauty. Perhaps Kemala wasn’t as scary as Rika had thought.
“I thought we were gods?” Rika asked. “Doesn’t that make things any easier?”
“Unfortunately, no. It only means you have a hundred lifetimes of baggage to work through.”
Rika let out a hollow laugh.
“But,” Kemala said, her dark eyes glittering, “it also means you have a divine family to help you through it.”
Rika was as loose and relaxed as a willow tree when she bid Kemala goodbye at the junction of the Gathering Hall and the tunnel to her room. The goddess’s unexpected kindness had given her much to think on. Perhaps suppressing her feelings weren’t the best way to handle them. She collapsed onto her bed as she reached her cave, flipping off her sandals. Her body was bone-tired, but her mind still raced. It had been good having someone to talk to. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed that over the last few days. Kemala’s comment swam to the surface of her mind. “Everything you need is within you.” Well, not everything. Though she sometimes felt she had several personalities, she couldn’t talk to herself. A thought flashed through her mind, and she sat up, the wound at her side throbbing slightly. She pressed a hand to it. It was healing remarkably well, considering how close she had come to death.
Rika willed open her third eye and took in the luminescence of tiny filaments connected to her. It was like every cell of her being was connected to a star. Was Liliam right? Could she ever truly know them all? For now, she put that thought aside. There was only one she wanted to get to know. Cygna.
She called to the night sparrow, recognizing the thread the color of smoky quartz that tethered them together. She willed it to come to her as silent and stealthy as a shadow. As the seconds ticked by, Rika began to wonder if she had done something wrong. But then, as she went to tug on his thread again, it soared into the room, alighting on the end of the bed. Its brilliance was muted and dark and dimmed even further as it folded its wings. It almost looked like a regular sparrow, but for the shimmering sparkles about it.
“Hello, Cygna.”
“Mistress.” It flourished its wings in a little bow. Rika couldn’t help but smile. It was no seishen, but it was her own personal bit of magic.
“Cygna, what do you know of the other constellations?”
“Much. We have been brethren for eons.”
“Perfect,” Rika said, lying down on the hard bed. “I want to know everything.”
FINALLY, THEY WERE leaving. The tunnel out of the caverns was long and winding. But with every step—every breath, the weight of the mountain lifted from Rika’s shoulders. When she felt the first tickle of fresh air against her face, she could have wept for joy. Soon she would be free to gaze upon the sky, to behold her newfound celestial allies. Cygna had spoken to her long into the night, telling her of the constellations guarding Nua’s night sky. The little night sparrow rode on Rika’s shoulder, its muted shimmer matching the strange new light in Rika’s irises. It didn’t seem inclined to leave her to return to the sky. And she was just fine with that. It was a strange comfort—its soft feathers nestling against her neck. At her hip hung her father’s sword, heavy and solid. Another comfort.
The currents of fresh air joined with a wet mist that stuck to Rika’s face and neck. “What is that?” she asked.
“The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall,” Cayono explained, his bulk hunched over in the tunnel. “You were delirious when we brought you in. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”
Soon, she was making her way down a precarious, slippery path that was hardly deserving of the name. It was little more than a few abutments of rock sticking out of the mountainside to the left of the torrent of the waterfall.
Vikal navigated the path in front of her, offering his hand to help her across a particularly wide step. She took it begrudgingly, stepping across to find herself pressed next to him on the ledge. His features looked achingly beautiful silhouetted in the moonlight. His warmth and eucalyptus scent washed over her, quieting the voice in her mind that said she should pull her hand away, tear her eyes from his.
“Anytime,” Ajij said from behind them. She looked over her shoulder with a start. The muscular man was clinging to the side of the mountain like a goat, his toes balanced on a thin ledge of stone.
“Sorry,” Vikal said, and Rika slipped past him, letting Vikal help Ajij across. Her skin felt flushed even against the humid night air, and when Kemala looked at her with a knowing gaze, she blushed fiercely.
They picked their way down to the forest floor, where the flow from the waterfall turned the ash of the forest into slick mud. In the distance, the lush green jungle silhouetted the sky, and the clicking of bats and the cries of birds filled the air. Before them, in the direction of their destination, lay only the destruction of ruined trees and underbrush.
Rika’s breath caught as she opened her third eye and finally beheld the full wonder of what she was connected to. A million points of light tied to her with silver tethers. Constellations sat heavy in the sky, almost moving, writhing, waiting for her to wake them and bring them to life. “Look at them all, Cygna,” she breathed.
Next to her Bahti’s threads shone red, Ajij’s blue, and Kemala’s black, tying her to the individuals in their party. Vikal’s green threads strung towards the jungle in the distance, but many more were broken, severed and trailing, bearing witness to the part of the island that had been lost.
Rika slammed her vision shut as sorrow overcame her, rushing like a wave. “The forest,” she gasped, looking at him. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes. And no,” he said, his gaze set on the devastation before them. “It is a phantom pain. I feel what has been lost, though I know it is no longer there.”
“It can grow back, right?”
“Yes. But I fear it will never be the same.” Vikal hurried down the hillside, and she understood that this was as much as he could say. Could admit to himself.
She fell into line behind Ajij—Cayono and the human soldiers bringing up the rear. Her thoughts turned to Yoshai, to Kitina. Were the fields of blue grass burned, people driven from their homes? Had the walls fallen, the people sucked into ash or enslaved, destined to kill their families while their trapped minds screamed at them to stop? Out here in the open, she almost imagined she could reach far enough to see, to pull at threads that led all the way to Kitina. But when she tried, she felt herself stretched too thin, too far from herself. Who knew how far the soul-eater’s astrolabe had brought them when delivering them to Nua. “I wish I could see,” she whispered to herself. “If I could just ask the black tortoise that guards the north star…or the clever fox. He must see it all. I wish I knew what was going on,”
“I know the clever fox,” Cygna chirped at her side. “It considers itself a trickster. Even if it sees, it might not speak the truth.”
Rika’s heart leaped. “You know the clever fox? The constellation. You know where to find it?”
“It lives far along the star-paths. A long flight from here. But the goddess of bright light and I have been on many journeys, some to the end of the cosmos.”
Rika let out a delighted laugh. Vikal turned back to look at her with a questioning eye, but she ignored him. Was it truly that simple? Had the solution been sitting on her shoulder all this time? “Cygna, can you visit the fox? And the land it watches over? The soul-eaters are attacking my home. It’s a city called Yoshai. Can you travel there and find out what’s happening?”
“Certainly. If this is what you wish.”
Rika seized Cygna from her should
er and kissed its feathered head. “It is what I wish more than anything. Fly as swift as an eagle. My mother is the queen. Queen Kailani. Find out if…she still lives. If she still fights. And bring news back to me as fast as you can.”
Cygna shook itself, its feathers fluffing up until she held a fat little puff-ball in her hands. “This sparrow is swifter than the eagle. But yes. I will go.” And it took to the air, its shimmering light disappearing into the night sky, one more pinprick of light against the black, bearing her hopes with it.
They walked for hours under the light of the full moon, navigating their way down towards the sea. They eventually found their way onto a road, which made the travel significantly easier. It had the unwelcome side effect of taking them past abandoned homes, burnt-out shells that had once been thatched roofs, empty woven cages that had once held chickens. They passed a fire-ravaged temple—its once-proud three tiers leaning precariously, a breath away from collapse.
“Meru Karkita,” Ajij said, pausing to stare, glassy-eyed at what was left of the building. “This was once our most glorious temple.”
Little piles of ash littered the courtyard in front of the temple, scraps of clothing intermixed with the gray powder. Rika looked away, her stomach churning, the memory of gray cracks running through her father’s skin filling her mind.
“We saved as many as we could.”
“Why do they take some…?” Rika asked.
“And eat the others? We can only speculate. Those they think will be useful to the war effort, fighters or those with special knowledge…they keep. The rest…” Ajij trailed off.
Gods. What monsters.
“Will we stop soon?” Rika asked, hastily changing the subject. Her feet ached from walking in flat sandals and she felt weak from hunger.
“An hour or so. We will camp by the beach, lay low and try to avoid the attention of the leeches.”
Rika nodded, rallying her strength. Every step brought her one step closer to Kitina.
Rika woke to a flutter of soft feathers against her cheek. They had made camp by the beach about midnight, and Rika had dropped gratefully into a heavy slumber. She squinted, shielding her eyes from the brightness that hopped before her on the ground. “Cygna?”
“I did as you asked. I found the clever fox.”
Cygna’s words banished all traces of sleep. Rika shot up, pushing strands of hair from her face. “Tell me.”
“It showed me this Yoshai you spoke of. The soul-eaters lay siege to the city. They surround it like flies on a carcass. Much of the city is overrun.”
Rika’s hand flew to her mouth. It was no less than she had expected, but still, to hear how bad things were… “What of my family? Queen Kailani?”
“I could not tell one person from another. But there is a walled structure that has not been taken.”
“The palace?”
“Perhaps. There are many soul-eaters and thralls surrounding it. It is vulnerable.”
Rika could see it in her mind’s eye—the sandstone walls of the palace swarming with black-clad thralls with the glowing green eyes of the soul-eaters. If her mother were still alive, she must be despairing. And what of the people in the rest of the city? Rika shut her eyes, willing the images to leave her. They were too horrible to contemplate. “What of the constellations? The fox? The black tortoise? Can they not help?”
“The stars do not concern themselves with the rise and fall of men. Unless they have a goddess to demand it of them.”
A goddess. Her. She needed to be in Yoshai, not here. She didn’t know how to command constellations a world away. It already might be too late. She couldn’t wait any longer. Rika looked around, resolve growing in her. The sounds of measured breathing and soft snores marked the rest of the party, who were stretched out on the ground, arms thrown over eyes to shield them against the morning light. Vikal and Bahti sat by a fire, talking in low tones, spinning some sort of small creature on a spit.
She stood and made her way over to the fire and settled into a cross-legged position. She wanted to shout at them, to flail her arms about the plight of Kitina, but she tried to remain calm.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Vikal asked.
“I asked Cygna to travel to Kitina to see what has become of my family. Our city.”
“It can do that?” Vikal interrupted.
“It can. And it did. The soul-eaters have breached the walls of Yoshai. The remaining survivors are barricaded inside the palace. My family’s probably in there. They can’t hold on much longer.”
Vikal paled, his thick eyebrows furrowing. Bahti avoided her gaze, writing words she didn’t recognize in the soft sand with a stick.
“I am very sorry to hear that,” Vikal said.
Rika bit her lip, trying to quell her panic. “I need to leave now. We need to find a ship with an astrolabe. They can’t hold on much longer! What if the soul-eaters break through? I’ll get there too late.”
“You swore you would help us,” Bahti growled, looking up. His red eyes glowed bright as the fire.
“That was before I knew helping you would result in the deaths of everyone I know!”
Vikal held up his hands to calm her, shooting a look at Bahti. “We do not know that. And you cannot return without your totem. You forget, I have been to your land, and I was near powerless without my staff. Your Nuan powers will not be strong enough to make a difference without your totem.”
“Then let’s go. Now. I can’t wait any longer.”
“We are not going to go off half-cocked just because your mother is in trouble,” Bahti said, and Rika lunged at him, fingers curling into claws. She was done. Done with his abuse, done with playing the meek girl.
Vikal caught her around the waist, heaving her back towards his side of the fire.
“Scary,” Bahti said, and Rika lunged again, trying to slip through Vikal’s grip.
“Bahti, enough,” Vikal snapped. “Imagine how you would feel if Kemala and Tamar were about to be killed by those things. Have a little empathy. And Rika, calm down. We have a better chance at slipping in under cover of darkness. You know we are not powerful enough to go up against the leeches and their guards man to man. We need the element of surprise. It will not help your family if you get yourself killed.”
“Argh,” she cried, collapsing back onto the ground. “Let me go,” she said, and Vikal released her, holding his hands up as if she had burned him.
“Fine,” she said. “But the second I get my totem and end the soul-eaters here, we’re gone. Promise?”
“I promise,” Vikal said. “Now, I need you two to make peace. We are going into battle together; I need you on the same side.”
“I’ve never been the problem.” Rika crossed her arms. “I didn’t ask for this, you know.”
“Hush.” Kemala appeared, hands in the air.
Vikal stood, suddenly alert. “What are you looking for?”
“Two of Cayono’s soldiers are missing,” Kemala said. “They were here when I went to sleep, but now they are gone.”
“Have they gone to scout? Forage?” Vikal asked.
Cayono joined them around the fire, shaking his head. “I gave orders for nobody to venture off alone.”
“Kemala, see if you can find them.”
Kemala stilled, peering into the skeletal graveyard of trees. Was it Rika’s imagination, or was that a branch snapping? She narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the mass of blackened limbs.
“Someone is coming,” Vikal whispered.
Kemala hissed. “Thralls in the woods. Everyone to me. I will try to confuse them.”
In an instant, the party gathered around Kemala. Cayono’s men had scrambled to their feet at Cayono’s urgent call and now stood looking into the forest through sleep-bleary eyes. A line of ten black-clad men emerged from the edge of the trees. From behind them, like a creature from a nightmare, stepped a soul-eater.
Rika’s lip curled at the sight of the black chitinous armor and deep shadowy p
it where the creature’s face should have been. She hadn’t seen a soul-eater since the ill-fated battle her first day on Nua. The sight of it set her blood singing with thoughts of vengeance. Finally. No more waiting. She could do something.
The line of soldiers faltered, seeming to balk at coming any closer. Perhaps Kemala was filling their mind with horrors that even the bravest man dare not face. The soul-eater hissed in its low tones, screeching at them, no doubt to move forward. Vikal winced, seeming to steel himself against the sound. He slowly unsheathed his two swords, tightening his grip around their hilts.
“Anytime, bright light,” Bahti grunted, his hammer at the ready above his shoulder.
Rika opened her third eye. The threads were harder to see during the daytime, the rays of the sun turning them translucent. But she could feel them and their sure strength, and she tugged at one now, inviting the star to join her, to lend her its light.
It came to her, barreling towards them like a comet. Rika lifted her hand, trying to direct its path, steady it, guide it towards its target. The leech didn’t see what was coming until it was too late. The pearlescent starlight barreled into its chest, tossing it off its feet like a leaf in the wind. The light burrowed into the creature’s chest through the seams of its armors, sending it into convulsions. Its screams of agony were mirrored by the soldiers, who grasped their heads and fell to their knees, crying out against the pain of the cleansing magic.
Finish it! Rika thought with a bloodthirsty impulse, and the light flashed, breaking the soul-eater into a hundred pieces. Rika held up her hand to the glare. In the after-glow of the explosion, she saw that three of the soldiers’ eyes still grew green. “Those three! Subdue them!”
The men turned and ran into the forest, compelled by some master other than the soul-eater she had just killed. Cayono and the human soldiers dashed after them, returning quickly with the howling men—still thrashing in the power of the leeches’ thrall. Rika strode forward, power of the star filling her with its nearness.
