“How long?”
“Long enough to know what fire feels like when it smiles.”
Jay had a feeling in his mind, as if the voice were pulling away, fading. “Wait,” Jay said. “What do you mean by that?”
No answer came.
Jay stared at the old man, who stood behind the simmering pots yet somehow seemed miles and years away. No answers came from the brown-and-black eyes.
His full belly felt strangely heavy as Jay left The Mystery Chickpea. The long day’s chases suddenly weighed on him as he walked slowly back toward the Everest Base Camp.
I’d better rest up, he thought. Jade said it was going to be a long, long night. “And I don’t care what some weird voice in my mind says,” Jay told the city. “I don’t have to choose Jade or the road. Dammit, I choose both.”
JAY SLID IN CLOSER, his foot knocking the table where they sat. They giggled then went back to kissing. His hand lightly squeezed Jade’s inner thigh through her dress, stoking a heat inside her that would make the Indian sun seem cool as winter.
Jade kissed him more deeply, and he opened his mouth to hers.
His breath caught as she slowly traced her fingers up and down his thigh through the thin fabric of his pants. The wooden bench creaked in the empty pub.
Does my bed creak? Jade thought. I guess we’ll find out. She smiled as they kissed. It’s going to be a good night, she thought. A long, loud, hot, good night.
A heat blazed from the top of her head to between her thighs. Jay’s hand brushed slowly up her right side, just grazing her breast as he wrapped his arms around her back.
For a moment they stopped kissing, and she stared into his eyes. “Your eyes are as jade as my name,” she said.
“Fitting, isn’t it?”
“I can think of something else that’ll be fitting,” she replied, moving her hand and smiling when his eyes got wide.
It was nearly enough to keep the rest of the thoughts away.
But not enough.
She kissed him again.
Her long, tense night in the pub had been filled with more low, scared talk about a new disappearance. The Mystery Chickpea had returned that morning, but people kept saying that later in the day, after serving a customer, something in the nearby alley had gotten the old man’s attention, as if beckoning him.
Some said the moment he left, the pots stopped simmering and the steam disappeared.
The cart remained, but the old man never come back.
As if that wasn’t enough, no matter how much she tried to ignore it The Management’s note burned at her. The words looped in her mind: “Love is not the traveler’s path…”
Jade kissed him harder. “Jay,” she whispered then nibbled at his ear, making him gasp. “Let’s go to my room.”
She leaned away, staring hard and bright into his face. What will he look like in the morning? Jade thought. What will it be like to wake up next to someone?
Jay’s eyes shone back at her. I still have time, she thought.
“Jade,” he started to say, his hand stroking her face. “Jade…”
His eyes widened. All the color fell out of his face.
“Jay?”
“Oh... no...”
He clenched his mouth shut. Jay jumped onto his feet, looked left, looked right. Panic rose in his face. He scrambled past Jade, knocking her against the hard wooden back of the bench. Coughing, she tried to get her breath back.
Jay sprinted toward a door that was not the door to the hostel rooms.
The toilet.
Moments after he ran through the door, the sounds reached her ears. Wet splatterings, grunts, whimpers, and heavings. Jade sucked in air and made herself stand up. She breathed fast. Desire fell out of her like beer from a spilled pint. “What’s going on?” she said, walking toward the door.
The understanding stopped her. He went to the bloody damn feckin Mystery Chickpea, she thought. He ate loads of that slopple. And tonight—our first night—he gets food poisoning.
Lovely.
She smoothed her hands over her thighs, which now felt like nothing more than muscle wrapped in skin.
After a few minutes, Jay staggered out of the toilet, his face gray. He stood in the doorway and would not look her in the eye. Behind him, the reek of diarrhea and vomit seemed to bring all the city’s open sewers together into the pub.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” she said. “For ignoring all of us? For eating at the worst place in the city?”
“It was really good,” he said. “And it was there and I was hungry. I guess that wasn’t a good idea after all.”
Anger started to burn in her. “Is that all you’re sorry for?”
“Of course not,” he said. “Tonight… Tonight was going to be amazing. Except that I ruined it.”
Jade shook her head. “All we can do now is get you better.” What am I going to do with him? she thought. He looks so weak. Is he going to be okay in the dorm?
Jay trudged toward the door to the stairs. “I’ve been here before, you know. Sick. This already seems like it’ll be the worst I’ve ever had. But still, it’s not the first time I’ve eaten the wrong thing. I’ll head to my bed. I’ll manage.”
He opened the door and stopped, then turned and looked her in the eye as he leaned against the doorframe. “I’d love to kiss you,” Jay said. “I’d love so many things to be different right now. Including that my mouth is so gross that the last thing in the world I want to do is get it near the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He shook his head. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Good night, Jade.”
He started to walk out the door.
“Wait.”
Jade walked over to him, turning off the pub lights and locking the door behind her. “You don’t have to be alone. You look horrible, but I’ve smelled worse. It’s not the night we had in mind, but I’ll look after you. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”
“I can’t say I’ll be any fun,” Jay replied. “After a night with me, your room is going to reek like the bodies burning on the banks of the Ganges.”
“If it’s any motivation, I sleep naked.”
Jay smiled, though it seemed to take half the energy from him. “Jade,” he said, “my wonderful Jade. I want to say yes. But it’s for the best. Go to bed. Sleep. Forgive me, if you can. Maybe peek in on me in the morning—make sure I’m not drowning in a pool of my own bad decisions.”
He squeezed her hand and trudged up the stairs. He didn’t look back.
When he was out of sight, Jade stared at the floor. Tears burned her eyes.
She went to her room but she hardly slept. Thoughts of duty and love battled in her mind and heart.
In the morning, the sun came up the same as it always did. She stood at the window, listening to the city, listening to the Everest Base Camp, listening, above all, to the traveler on the third floor. Between bouts of staggering to the toilet, Jay had slept as well as he could. Throughout the night, his dorm mates thought of nothing but getting out early to flee the stench in the room, though a couple of people were making sure to check on him.
Once she was ready, Jade stopped by his room and let herself in. Some people had already left; others still slept and wouldn’t know she was there. She kneeled by his bed. “Jay?” she said.
No response. He lay on his right side, his left arm stretched down over his legs, which were straight as sticks, the left leg lying on the right. His head rested on his other arm.
“Jay?”
She lay her hand on his cheek, his breath warm on her palm. At least he’s sleeping now, she thought. Though I wish I could’ve gotten to look in his eyes again. Or do I? If he didn’t want to be with me last night, what does he think now?
Jade leaned forward to kiss his forehead, but as her lips neared his skin, she stopped. I don’t want to wake him, she told herself. He needs to rest.
She set a flask of cooled, sweetened, uninfluenced tea by his bed, alo
ng with a small bowl of cooled plain rice. Without looking back at him, she left the room.
In the pub, she cleared away the last remains of their drinks, of the beginning of what was supposed to be…
“Oh stop,” she told herself. “Just stop. The night didn’t turn out the way you expected, but the day still brings the duty you have.”
With a deep breath, she dove back into her tasks, preparing the pub while making herself a small breakfast. Her thoughts of Jay, her feelings for Jay, she tucked into a far-back part of her mind. It wasn’t time for those right now. There was much more to do than dwell on love and disappointment. She turned her thoughts instead to the disappearance, to the shadow of fear that had fallen over the city.
I’ve been too distracted, she thought. Not helpful enough. Not diligent enough. Time to change that.
A knock sounded on the front door. Jade started pulling a pint of GPS. The beer settled as she opened the door with a smile, but as Rucksack and Kailash came in, their faces were tight and hard.
“What’s going on?” Jade asked.
“Jay should be here too,” Kailash said.
Jade shook her head. “Good morning to you too. Jay’s not going anywhere. Got food poisoning from The Mystery Chickpea.”
“So that’s why he didn’t meet me this morning. We were worried,” Rucksack said.
“Do gods get food poisoning?” Jade asked, a rough edge to her voice.
“Probably not,” Rucksack replied. “But he isn’t a god yet. For now, he’s still a man. Well, mostly a man.”
“Mostly?”
“Later,” Kailash said. “We need to be in the city.”
“It’s the disappearances, isn’t it?” Jade asked. “Is it true that the old man from The Mystery Chickpea is gone?”
Rucksack nodded. “His cart was still there this morning. He never took it away, the way he normally does. No one’s seen him since Jay ate there.”
“I take it the police have no leads?”
Rucksack’s shrug said that any attention the police were paying was misdirected. Kailash looked away from the two of them, her eyes distant and hard.
Jade handed Rucksack his pint. “You’d best drink quickly then.”
“Nothing makes a hard day easier like a quick drop,” he replied.
“Did Jay say anything about The Mystery Chickpea?” Kailash asked.
“No,” Jade replied. “He wouldn’t really talk about it, except to say that it was amazing. Before…” Her thoughts flashed back to the kissing, the way he touched her. “Before he got sick.”
“A pity. Perhaps I should speak with him before we go.”
Defensiveness rushed through Jade. “He’s resting. He needs to be left alone.”
Kailash shook her head. “The things happening here are too important for us to be delicate with Jay because of a stomachache.”
“No,” Jade replied, taking a step forward so she was close to Kailash, staring her in the eye and blocking her from entering the hostel.
“You have no idea how easy it would be for me to go past you,” Kailash said, glaring sharply.
“Maybe out in the wide world, where you’re older than all the city put together,” Jade replied. “But not here. I’m the Jade of Agamuskara, and this is my pub. My rules.”
“Really?” Kailash replied. “And here I thought you were just an employee taking orders.”
“Mum,” Rucksack said. “Jade. Enough.”
“Are you taking her side?” both women demanded.
“No,” Rucksack said. “And yes. You’re both right, and you’re both focused on the wrong thing. We’re leaving Jay be. And Jade’s right. Her pub, her rules. Even you or I couldn’t budge that door open if she or The Management didn’t want us to.”
“Interesting,” Kailash replied. In a blur, she walked past Jade and went over to the door. She grabbed the doorknob but the metal didn’t turn. The door didn’t so much as rattle in the frame, but stayed as still as a mountain.
“No one comes in here without my leave,” Jade said quietly. “And certainly no one interferes with my guests.”
An angry fire in her eyes, Kailash came back over. “Do you know why people are so afraid of The Mystery Chickpea’s food?”
“Because after one bowl you may need to remodel your bathroom?” Jade replied.
A small smirk pierced Kailash’s cheeks then was gone. “I told you what happened the day the Smiling Fire came, the day the first dia ubh changed us.”
“Yes,” Jade said. “You became… Well, whatever you are.”
“The man who runs The Mystery Chickpea was one of us.”
“Mum?”
“I’m sorry I hadn’t told you yet, son,” Kailash replied. “Another story for another time.”
Rucksack drank his pint, a sullen silence on his face.
Like mother like son, Jade thought.
“He had been wounded by the Smiling Fire,” Kailash continued, “but not killed. His body healed, but his name had been burned away from his memory, from our knowledge, from all existence. Along with the loss of his name, he lost his voice. For thousands of years, he has never spoken again, and he has never known who he is. Not even the dia ubh could return that to him. But to compensate, he gained sight—sight beyond seeing, sight that is far, long, and true. Over time, he learned to express his wisdom through cooking. There is… There was… no finer cook in all the world. The warnings you hear about The Mystery Chickpea, the lies that even Guru Deep spreads—”
“What does he spread other than lies?” Rucksack said, finishing his pint.
Kailash ignored him. “It’s not food poisoning they fear. That’s just an excuse, a rationalization people use to scare themselves away. What they fear is the unavoidable truth gained from eating that food, and what it means for one’s life.”
“That’s why you want to talk to Jay,” Jade said. “You want to know what he learned.”
Rucksack shrugged. “Maybe he’s already learning it. Maybe it’s just being… expressed… in a different way.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Kailash said. “I’ll leave him be. For now.”
“Do you know why the old man was gone?” Jade asked.
“I fear it was because of me,” Kailash replied, “but I can’t know for certain. It’s as if he were hiding something from me. But I don’t know what. Or if that’s the case. I don’t know where he went or why he came back. Maybe we’ll find answers if we go to his cart.” She walked to the pub’s front door, glaring at Jade. “May I open this door, Jade Agamuskara Bluegold?”
“Here, allow me,” Jade said. She opened the door, all the while returning Kailash’s glare.
Standing in the doorway were two men with everywhere faces, wearing tan pants and white button-down shirts. A strange darkness lurked beneath the fabric of their shirts, but that had to be the trick of light and shadow. There was no mistaking the fear wide in their eyes, their trembling hands hanging in the air and apparently about to knock.
Jade and Kailash broke off their stare.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jade said.
“Mim!” Rucksack said, nodding to the man on the left. “Pim!” He set his empty glass on the bar. “Well, call the gods a bunch o’ bloody bastards. To what do we owe this honor?”
Jade studied the men’s faces. The jovial mischief she’d seen before was gone, replaced by a timid paleness. “What’s happened?” she asked.
“The alley. The Mystery Chickpea. The black temple.”
“We know,” Rucksack said. “Maybe you should stick to pranks. You’re rather bad at news.”
Mim shook his head. “We know what’s causing the disappearances. We know what happened to the old man.”
“What happened? How do you know?” Kailash replied.
“Please come with us. We’ll show you.”
“Come with you?” Jade said. “You stole Jay’s passport. You blew up one of my taps. You’ve been leading Jay and Rucksack on a wi
ld goose chase around the city. Who do you think you are that we should trust you?”
“We know who we are, Jade Agamuskara Bluegold,” Pim said. “Do you know who you are anymore?”
She said nothing.
“It must be so difficult to be both on the scales as well as the scale itself,” Mim said with gentleness. “I almost don’t envy the dilemma you try not to face.”
“Almost?” What the hell do you know? Jade thought.
Mim nodded. “Even if the consequences seem frightening, love is an option for you. Sometimes I wish that was an internal struggle that could threaten to tear me apart.”
Jade stepped between the men, into the bright morning sun. Its heat was a pleasant touch after all the harsh words from everyone in the pub. “You still haven’t answered me,” she said.
Kailash and Rucksack stepped outside and pulled the door closed. Mim and Pim turned to face each other. “We must?” Mim said.
“We must,” Pim replied. “If you don’t trust us after this, we understand. We’ll leave. We won’t interfere anymore.”
Mim shrugged. “Might as well, really. There won’t be anything to interfere with.”
The men turned so they stood side to side. They unbuttoned their shirts down to just above their bellies and pulled the fabric aside. Standing together, side by side, it was as if together their burns formed a single image of a smile. Ragged red, pink, and black flesh started at an opposite point on each man’s chest, arcing down like a scythe blade from a mere dot of red to a black wasteland, three inches at its widest.
“He’s returned,” Mim said.
“We suspected,” Kailash replied, her voice low and soft, as if to conceal a tremble. “But we weren’t certain yet.”
The blackened flesh shone like obsidian in the bright sun. Jade’s stomach turned and she looked away. “We’ll go with you,” she said, breathing deeply and forcing her breakfast back down.
All the way to the alley, no one spoke. The Mystery Chickpea still sat empty, quiet, devoid of even the slightest bit of steam. “It looks so ordinary,” Jade said, touching the cart’s splintered wood and peeled paint. But there was nothing beyond the wood. No voice. No feeling. No memory.
Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) Page 22
