Thirteen (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 13)

by J. Naomi Ay

"I'm totally lost," Zem agreed. "And, I'm also full of water."

  "Great," I mumbled. "We forgot to bring his pills."

  “Did you hear that from Kie?” Ber asked. “My brother?”

  "How would Kie know?" Taner inquired.

  "I don't know, but he was acting kind of weird.” Ber proceeded to explain that since the operation, Kie had shown signs of demonic possession. “His eyes were flashing orange and sometimes, he spoke in an odd deep voice.”

  "Well, that could be said about a lot of people," I replied. "Look at Petya. Can you believe he used to be my best friend?"

  “Is it true?” Rent asked.

  "Yes, ever since we were little kids."

  "No, that's not what I meant. Is it true our father is alive?"

  “Yes, he is alive,” Arsan announced.

  Now, we all turned to stare at him.

  "Where is he?" Petya demanded. “I must know!”

  "I don't know," Arsan said, and looked at me.

  I shrugged. “Twenty-Love. Petya, it’s your serve.”

  “Shut up, Shika. Yes, you do know,” Petya declared, pounding his fist on my mother’s countertop. “My Lord Rosso commands that I bring him here.”

  “Oh, so you’re not in charge,” I said. "Your Lord Rosso is."

  “Yes, I am, Shika!” Petya shouted, racing over to me.

  “But, only to the extent that Rosso lets you be,” Rent added.

  "You're just a puppet,” I taunted. “And, Rosso is pulling your strings."

  “That’s not true!” Petya stomped his foot just like he did when we were little kids. He spun around and pointed at Arsan. "You need to find him, and bring him here. I don't care how you do it, but you have only until midnight tonight. Until then, every hour, I'll shoot one of you."

  "Ah!" A collective gasp went up.

  "Come on, Petya," I snapped. "You don't really need to do this."

  "I do, Shika," he replied. "You've heard my orders, now hop to it. Go on, Loran. Take your wife out of here."

  "Daddy?" Sara called, as Loran pulled her hand. “Daddy, do something.”

  "Come on, Princess. You and I are going to play some games."

  "Daddy?" Sara shrieked.

  I nodded slightly. "Just do it, Sara. I suspect you'll be safer with Loran than with us."

  "Good thinking, Shika," Petya proclaimed as soon as the door had shut behind them. "Now, to prove my sincerity, I'm going to shoot that little green kid. He's the youngest, and the one with the least value."

  "That's ridiculous!" I screamed, and swung my fist.

  It connected with Petya's chin, and sent him sprawling on the floor. It also bloodied a few of my knuckles, but it was completely worth it.

  "Shoot the green kid now!" Petya ordered, clambering back to his feet. "Next hour, it'll be Shika, and then, Rent."

  "No Petya," Taner insisted, as Rory and Carolie began to wail. "Shoot me instead. I am the oldest, and have lived a full life."

  "That's very noble of you, Taner." Petya rubbed his chin, and strolled across the room. "But, frankly, I don't give a damn. Little green kids get on my nerves. What are you waiting for, Kell? Blast the boy. He’s an easy target."

  "Kell?" Rent cried. "Is that you behind that ridiculous hood?"

  "Yep." The Rossorian guard revealed his fat, round face.

  "Why aren't you working on that budget project I gave you?"

  "I was laid off when my department was outsourced."

  "I was laid off too, Rent," the second guard announced.

  Although she didn't lift up her hood, from her voice, we could tell she was a girl.

  "Trudy?" Rent gasped, hurrying across the room to look closely at her garb.

  He peered at the fabric, which was probably covering face. It might have been hiding the back of her head. For all we knew, she could have been upside down.

  "Yes, Rent. I was penniless, so I had to marry Kell. Now Our Lord Rosso takes care of both of us, and we serve the Leader."

  "Well, that sucks," Rent mumbled, shaking his head. "I was going to call you when this was over. I was hoping you'd want to get together again."

  "Really?" Trudy cried. "Are you serious? Oh Rent!"

  "Trudy," Kell snapped. "Knock it off."

  "Knock all of this off!" Petya screamed. "Kill the green kid now!"

  "Right, boss," Kell replied, and before I could react, he shot little Rory in the chest.

  Rory went flying across the room, spewing his little green blood all over my parents’ polished floors.

  Chaos ensued after that. I was determined to rip Petya's head off his neck, and while I was at it, permanently remove Kell's too.

  Some more shots were fired. In fact, one narrowly missed my ear, while another smashed the glass in my parents' picture windows. At some point in the skirmish, both Rent and I managed to land a few punches, enough to send Petya and his minions running.

  The door was locked behind them. I caught my breath, and turned back to deal with Rory. If I somehow managed to live through this, I was going to have to explain to my wife how her little green baby had died.

  “Ah, Rory,” I gasped, racing over to my little green step-boy.

  However, Arsan was already kneeling by his side, his hands on the child’s chest. They were both shrouded in a cloud of hazy, silver light, which seemed to swirl around them like a bank of fog. Then, it dissipated, and Rory coughed, pulling himself upright.

  "What happened?” he asked. “Why is everyone looking at me?"

  "Rory!" Carolie wept, leaping at her brother and gathering him in her arms, she rubbed her knuckles on the top of his fuzzy head.

  "Geez Carolie. Knock it off. You're getting me wet."

  "Arsan," I called to the boy, who was still kneeling on the floor.

  He was drenched in sweat, and all color had drained from his face. Holding out my hand, I offered to help him up. He shook his head, and waited until his breathing steadied. Then, he rose to his feet.

  “I need to go,” he said.

  "Can you do anything else?" I asked. "Maybe earthquakes or tornadoes?"

  "No," he replied. "My position is a little more defined."

  "What does that mean?" Rent said.

  Arsan didn’t respond. Instead, he headed over to the broken windows, his feet crunching on the fallen shards of glass. "I shall find him. I shall bring him here as quickly as I can."

  “Who?” Rent asked.

  "Try to keep it within an hour," I suggested.

  The boy nodded, and climbed through the hole in the glass. A moment later, he had disappeared into the snow-laden sky.

  "I am afraid he takes after your father more so than you, Shika," Taner announced, now standing at my side.

  "That could be a good, or a bad thing," Rent muttered.

  "Long term, it's probably really bad," I decided. "But, short term, it's definitely good. Let's just hope he gets back in time to save my ass, so I can save Sara before the do is done."

  Chapter 18

  Eva

  The Emperor laid in Reggie’s bed for several days. Outside a blizzard raged and inside, his fever burned while Reggie and I took turns sitting by his side. We wiped his skin with cold sponges when he grew hot, and piled him with blankets when he grew cold.

  I ran outside to gather buckets of snow, or an icicle to lay across his skin. Instantly, it melted, sometimes steaming from his body heat, leaving a puddle in the middle of his chest, which would start him shivering.

  He was too weak to cough now. Each breath he took was shallow, and rattled with phlegm. Sometimes he flayed about, mumbling something in a language that neither of us had ever heard.

  Other times he lay so still, he might have been dead. Then, Reggie and I would hold our breaths while we watched and listened.

  “Is he speaking Karupta?” I asked Reggie during a particularly wild episode, when the Emperor thrashed so violently, neither of us could stay by his side.

  We stood in the doorway, hiding from objects as th
ey raced around the room. Shoes, pillows, a bowl, or a cup might suddenly levitate off the ground, and smack into the window or the wall.

  “Nay. I spent a fair bit of time in Karupatani waitin’ on ‘im, and I dun’t recall it ever soundin’ like that. ‘old on there, mate! Ye keep fightin’ yer demons, and ye’ll win in the end. I know it. Ye always do.”

  The chair by the bed started rocking to and fro, and then, as we watched, it began to fly towards the window. Reggie and I raced after it, grabbing it by the legs, and pulling it back, but not before it smashed into the windows, shattering the glass.

  Unfortunately, outside the snow drifts were now nearly as high as the building’s front door, and our only heat source was the fireplace in the living room hearth. The room was quickly turning frigid. We had no choice but to move the Emperor back to the couch, risking Jetro’s attention when next he came.

  “Aye, there ye be,” Reggie said, when the Emperor was settled once again.

  He mumbled something. A hand lifted and waved in the air.

  Reggie and I looked around trying to spot whichever item was going to go flying next. When nothing moved, Reggie decided it was time for more herbal tincture tea.

  “Sit with ‘im, lass,” he said, “Whilst I go prepare a new brew.”

  Taking the bowl and the cloth, I took Reggie’s place by the Emperor’s side and dabbed at the sweat on his brow, his neck, and his chest. I studied the Karupta marking on his arm, which ran the length from shoulder to nearly his wrist, and the other tattoos, and ceremonial decorations of what had been his realm.

  “Poor man.” I sighed, and as I gazed at him, my heart broke.

  He was a beautiful man, and always a good one, I thought. Certainly, during his time, Rehnor had been much happier than it was now. I wished I could do something to ease his pain. I wished I could help him to recover, to heal, and be who he was again.

  Selfishly, I wished he could see me, and know how much I cared, but he was somewhere far away with someone else.

  He mumbled something then, and my foolish heart leapt in my chest.

  “Yes Sir?” I leaned close, my ear to his lips. His hand came up and touched my cheek, searing it, indelibly leaving a mark upon my skin.

  "Milaka Mikani," he murmured, stroking my face, running his fingers through my hair. "Naya ka kiro-teka Milaka."

  Then, his hand was on the back of my neck and his mouth was on mine. I lost all reason, all sense of time and space. I kissed him as hard as he pressed me, and my hands became lost in his thick black curls, as that burning sensation in my heart coursed down my spine. My blood pounded in my ears as he pulled me tight against his chest, his strong arms locking me against him, refusing to let go.

  "What the feckin' 'ell is going on 'ere?" Reggie screamed, returning at just that moment. He grabbed my arms and pulled me from the couch. "Eva, what are ye doing, lass?"

  "He wants me," I cried. "He wants me."

  "'e's ill. 'e dun't know what 'e's doin'. Leave 'im be, girl! Dun't tempt 'im now."

  "I didn't," I swore. "He wanted me."

  I held out my hand, reaching for the Emperor, begging him to pull me back. He stretched out his as if to grasp mine.

  "See Reggie. Look! Let me go to him. Please!"

  "Milaka Makani," the Emperor whispered, his head tossing from side to side.

  "Is not ye 'e's asking fer, lass. Can't ye see that? 'e's callin' fer ‘er."

  "No!" I insisted, but I was wrong. I wasn't Milaka Makani. I was only Eva, no one and nothing.

  "Tis alright, lass." Reggie held me as I started to cry, my tears seeping into the worn fabric of his shirt. "'e dun't know where 'e is or what's goin' on, and 'e dun't know where she is, and tha's the problem most of all."

  Of course, Reggie was right. He wanted her, not me.

  The Emperor started convulsing right then, so Reggie let go of me and ran to take care of him.

  "Naya ka kiro-teka!" The Emperor rasped.

  "She's not here, Senya." Reggie tried to pin him down. They struggled for a few moments, fighting each other until the Emperor became too weak, and collapsed into Reggie's arms just as I had done. "There ye be, mate."

  I couldn't tell if the Emperor was sobbing or just trembling in another episode of feverish spasms. In either case, it took a few moments until the shuddering stopped, and he calmed enough for Reggie to lay him back on the pillow. Reggie tugged the blankets up to his chin, and tucked them tightly around him.

  "Naya ka..."

  "I know, mate. It'll all be fine. Ye need to rest a bit more, then we'll figure it all out."

  "Cassie."

  "Tha's right, mate. We'll find yer lassie, Kate, and we'll go fetch 'er 'ome just like ye and me did before."

  The snow didn't let up for at least another week. In Reggie's long memory, it was the worst blizzard ever to hit Mishnah. No one could leave the building, and no one could come in.

  We were wrapped in a frigid cocoon with little to burn and even less to eat. But, we were the lucky ones. Outside on the streets, those without homes died, frozen right where they lay. And, those that survived died of starvation.

  As the temperature in Reggie's apartment dipped to below zero, we were forced to start burning his fine furniture. Everything from my flat had already been reduced to ash.

  "'Tis fine with me," Reggie insisted, breaking off the leg of a chair and tossing it in the hearth. "I dun't need any of this anymore. 'Tis just a relic of the past. We're all goin' to be startin' o'er agin, and it wun't be the first time I've dun tha'."

  “What about ye, Senya?”

  The Emperor was quiet. He lay on the couch, his bad leg propped up, the other dangling on the floor. The supply of Reggie’s herbs had long since been exhausted. We didn't know if they had helped, or if he had recovered on his own.

  The feverish spasms and periods of disorientation had subsided. His breathing was still shallow, and wet, but not since the first day, had I seen any blood.

  Mostly, he slept, rarely waking. He never spoke, nor reached for me. He never acknowledged Reggie or where we were. Were it not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he might have been mistaken for dead.

  “What would you like for dinner, mate? Shall I ring up the Palace kitchens and request they bring you something fresh?” Reggie spoke to the man as if he would answer. “Once the snow melts, ye’ll be able to get out yerself. Back to huntin’ from yer favorite beasties, me mate, just like in the good old days. Won't that be lovely, Senya? I'll drive ye to Karupatani in the springtime. Tha' fresh mountain air will do ye good.”

  Reggie turned to me, and pointed at the keys hanging from a hook by the door.

  “Go on upstairs and see if ye can find somethin’ fer us to eat, lass, and then fetch a fresh bucket of snow.”

  I dragged myself away from the warmth of the fire, donned another sweater and a coat, and then taking the master key, I slowly plodded my way upstairs to raid the empty flats.

  No one had come home since the snow storm first started. Of all Reggie’s nine tenants, only I remained. Two had died in their beds, frozen stiff corpses turned ice blue, left there for days until I opened their doors in search of food and wood.

  They still lay there. Reggie and I had no place to put them, and it was better they haunt their own homes than come and invade ours.

  As for my flat on the third floor, I had abandoned it as well. There was nothing left there to eat, drink, or burn. Icicles were hanging off the ceiling and the windows were cracked from the cold. Yet, sometimes, I would go sit in there, just to be alone, and think.

  It was strange, this life I now lived, which had turned into a daily quest for survival. Every day, I sought only to live until the next. Food and shelter were all I desired, while I tended the man who only yesterday had billions bowing at his feet.

  Finding a few cans of beans and tomatoes in the cupboards of the abandoned apartments on the second floor, I was returning to Reggie’s flat when I stopped in the stairwell to gaze out
side at the mountains of snow. I listened to the silence of the city that had frozen and died while we still lived, buried deep inside. Except it wasn’t silent. Somewhere outside, I heard voices, and the scrapings of shovels tunneling in our direction.

  Leaving the cans on the landing, I rushed down to greet whomever had come. Maybe, just maybe, someone was here to help us out.

  They emerged from the snow in wet, dark blue cloaks that covered them nearly from head to toe. With their hands, they dug their way up the steps, and at the door, someone fumbled with the frozen lock.

  “Eva?” It was Jetro. “Let us in!”

  I had a sick feeling in my stomach. My intuition told me to ignore them, to leave the lock unturned, and go back to the safety of Reggie’s hearth.

  I couldn’t let them freeze. It would be inhumane. It would be cruel. So, I jostled the stiff knob, shaking it until the bolts shifted and unlocked. Then, I stood back while Jetro and several Rossorians hurried inside.

  “Where is he?” Jetro demanded, grabbing my neck with his frozen glove.

  “Who?” I gasped, trying to push myself away.

  “The Karut you brought home.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jetro.” I tried to laugh. “Please. Just let me go.”

  “You were seen with a Karut several weeks ago before the snow locked everyone inside. Byl said he saw you and Reggie helping a man up these stairs.”

  “He left right after that,” I declared.

  “No, he didn’t,” another Rossorian replied. He pushed his hood back and I recognized Byl, my neighbor from the apartment across the hall.

  “You too?” I gasped. “Has everyone gone insane?”

  Jetro struck me across the cheek, and I fell back against the wall.

  “Don’t blasphemy Our Lord Rosso. You’ll be one of us, soon enough. Now, where’s the Karut? In Reggie’s flat? Is that why you’ve been spending so much time in there?”

  “No!” I cried. “Please, Jetro, leave Reggie alone. He’s an old man, and he’s done no harm.”

  “He served the Emperor his entire life. We’ll take them both out and make examples of them.”

  The Rossorians scrambled down the hall, leaving me to nurse my cheek.