by R. E. Carr
“I do not think I know how to be nicer,” he muttered.
He looked at the steps and listened to her gasping for breath. With a sad attempt at a smile, he said, “I do not think you are going to make it all the way to the top right now. Follow me.”
He veered off at the first archway they encountered. Jenn breathed a sigh of relief at the level footing. A few Beast Tribe servants darted out of their way. “I am considered bad luck,” Kei noted as he led on.
“Because of your curse?” Jenn asked.
He seemed lost in thought again. He looked over at the still-ashen Serif-fan. “I guess right now you are considered bad luck too. Future brides are avoided.”
“Why?”
“Our tribe is always at war, and many men do not live to see their brides. It is an old superstition, but avoiding the ‘waiting ones’ is supposed to ward against misfortune.”
“I’m going to marry you,” she said, steadying her hand on the wall. “I’m going to marry a half leopard—”
“I am not half leopard,” he snapped. “I am half Tribe and half Machidonian. The snow leopard is my totem animal.”
“Do you actually turn into a leopard?” Jenn asked in disbelief.
“No, I can wear his skin for a time. In fact, I was going to go on a Holy Hunt to appease my totem.”
“I don’t—”
“I was going to give up this cursed skin, but it does not matter now.”
“Why?” Jenn asked.
She stopped to stare openly at a circle of young men gathering in a room and lighting up what looked like a bong. Kei trudged ahead. After one whiff of the noxious smoke, Jenn scrambled to catch up. The cat-man narrowed his eyes at her.
“Only those of pure spirit and untouched flesh can venture on a Holy Hunt,” he said. His pointed teeth barely peeked out from his lips. Jenn sank against the wall. Kei continued. “One must be alone to complete such a quest. Once I join with you, I become defiled.”
Jenn turned deathly pale again. “Defiled?”
Kei rolled his eyes. “You do know what happens when people are joined, do you not?”
“I—I don’t want to think—” She stammered, as she tried to sink farther into the mossy wall.
Kei leaned toward her, resting his claws only inches from her hair. Jenn closed her eyes and recoiled from his breath against her cheek. “You do not want to think about that?” Kei hissed in her ear, his tongue barely touching her skin. Jenn shuddered.
“If it makes you feel any better, I am dreading it as well,” he spat.
Jenn froze, biting her lip. “P-please,” she stammered.
Kei jerked back. He waved his hand at a leather door. “Right this way is my room. You can rest there if you like.”
She gulped. Kei rolled his eyes again. “It is nothing like that. You can rest there without being stared at. Is that not what you want?”
Jenn nodded weakly. Kei pulled the door back for her.
A single pad of buffalo pelts rested in the center of the floor. Bright rays of late-morning sun drifted in from the window and warmed the well-worn fur.
Although the furnishings of the room were plain, the walls were sheer art. Every surface revealed a different painting, from a geometric pattern on the ceiling to elegant sketches of fish on the floor. Jenn eyed a set of paints and brushes tucked away behind a box of clothes.
“Did you paint all of these?” Jenn asked.
“Most of them. The buffalo was painted by my old teacher, Sorakare.”
Jenn took a closer look at the running bison. Its fur rippled with wonderful brushstrokes of brown and red. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“There will never be another like it,” Kei said bitterly.
“Why?”
“My master, Sorakare, was the sacrifice that brought you into this world.”
“What? What sacrifice?”
“For the Serif-fan to enter into this world, the high shaman must give his life to the Summoning. Sorakare fulfilled his lifelong purpose.”
“Oh my God,” she said dropping to her knees. “Someone died?”
“What is done is done.”
Kei curled up on his sun-drenched pelt. Jenn stared at him, waiting for the snarl or the cruel comment. Instead, he stared out the window with a slightly sad expression.
“All I have to do is open some seals,” she muttered. “And then I wake up from this nightmare.”
“I can hear you,” he said rolling his catlike ear toward her. “My totem gives me certain gifts.”
“You have to be the most . . . frustrating man I’ve ever met, Kei,” she spat.
Kei burst out laughing. “I am glad to be good at something. Annoying a Serif-fan is a rare privilege.”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I do not know what to tell you, Serif-fan. I am supposed to stay by your side at all times when you are not in the temple.”
“Well, I’m sorry—”
“I cannot even hunt! All day long I get to hear how lucky I am, all the while being encouraged to commit ritual suicide so that my brother Saikain can take my place,” Kei growled.
“What do you want me to say?” Jenn asked.
“Why not say nothing for a change?” he asked as he walked back to the door.
“I thought you were supposed to stay by my side,” Jenn snapped.
“Do you want to go to the privy with me?”
“You probably use a litter box,” Jenn muttered, laughing pathetically again.
“Stop mumbling. I know you are talking about me,” Kei called as he left.
She gave him about ten seconds before running out the door. She kept going up and up, streaking past more and more startled Beast Tribe servants. Just as she made it up a side branch, she ran smack into another rushing body. She felt her feet slip, but before she could stumble back, a hand grabbed her. Jenn swooned when she saw a pair of luminous, gold eyes.
“My Serif-fan!” he cried. “Are you all right? I hope I did not hurt you.”
Jenn breathed a sigh of relief. “No, it’s all right. I wasn’t really looking where I was going.” She turned bright red as she saw that not only was Saikain holding her close, but he was also shirtless and rather sweaty.
“My Serif-fan—”
She blushed. “Call me Jenn.”
“How could I? You are—”
She looked at him with pleading red eyes. “Please call me Jenn, Lord Saikain.”
“Only if you call me simply Saikain,” he said with a broad smile. “I was just about to head around to the gardens. Do you want to join me?”
She flinched at the word join. “That sounds nice. I was—I was kind of looking for a break from your brother.”
“Kei is not known for his warm personality. He has been worse since his teacher, Sorakare—”
“I heard what happened. It’s horrible.”
Saikain took her hand. “If my death would have brought you into this world, I would have happily given it. Your coming is the breath of hope our people have so desperately needed.”
“Wow,” she muttered.
She let him lead her back up the main staircase. She heard some chatter as they passed. Jenn cringed as she noticed she was still clutching Saikain’s fingers, yet she didn’t let go.
“I don’t feel like a breath of anything. As I keep trying to tell people, I’m—” she said, stopping for a second.
“We cannot change our destinies, Serif-fan. All of us, no matter how great we think we are, all started out small. Only by finding our Path and walking it can we become greater men . . . or women.”
“You’re easy to talk to,” Jenn said. She broke into giggles. “So, can you tell me more about this city, and the weird animals, and maybe even about this whole Serif-fan legend? I want to hear absolutely everything—from you.”
“So there’s this box and it shows you pictures of other people and places,” Jenn sighed as
she leaned against Saikain’s side. Both of them stared up at the glittering sky.
The awed Beast Tribe man scratched his head. “Your world sounds so beautiful. I mean, you say there are entire cities made of stone and glass and metal? Even the desert cities are not so fine. I want to see this Boston.”
“It’s been a week, I think—”
“Eight days, two hours, forty-three minutes and twenty-two seconds since arrival.”
“Thank you, CALA. Now shut up.”
“It’s been, like, eight days. I’m homesick. I keep thinking about my mom and Sara and—”
“You will see them again, will you not? Once you complete the quest, the Great Spirit will send you home,” Saikain said softly. His golden eyes kept scanning his surroundings even as he rested in the grass. A full complement of house guards patrolled the garden vigilantly.
“You know what the worst thing is, Saikain?”
“Tell me, Ji-ann. Please, tell me anything.”
“When I first got here, all I wanted to do was go home, but right now, I kind of want to stay too. It’s not so bad, especially with the cranky cat-boy avoiding me.”
“You are the Serif-fan. It is your destiny—”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” Jenn sighed, picking at the ground. “Then again, I never really believed in anything. Back home I was a nobody. Here? Here, I’m a legend.”
“You try to convince me, but I saw you rise from the Holy Spring. You are the Serif-fan and the savior of our tribe,” Saikain said softly.
“There is this nagging voice in the back of my head. I’m scared. Until I met you, Saikain, I didn’t have anyone to really talk to,” Jenn continued. “How can you be Kei’s brother?”
“We live separate lives,” Saikain sighed as he plucked a tuft of moss. “I will become the next Warlord. Kei is a bastard. Our father cares for him deeply, I am sure of it, but . . . But it was always assumed the Kei would follow a more ascetic path. We never thought—”
“I never thought—”
“What is done is done,” Saikain sighed.
“Now you two sound alike. Pluck a duck, Kaschaka will have a fit if she finds out I’m up here with you.”
“Kaschaka has lived her entire life locked in a temple. She knows nothing of the world we live in. The Scrolls of Nanut are her whole life.”
“She doesn’t like you, does she?” Jenn asked.
“She liked me well enough a few seasons ago. Her granddaughter, Nitani, is my chosen bride. Only the will of a Serif-fan could prevent that union.” He stared at her, making her shift a bit.
“Oh.”
“You know, tomorrow I have to tour the outlying provinces, but I will be back by dawn of the day after. Would you like to spend that day with me? I could show you the Jar-Elk stables . . . maybe show you how to ride.”
“Awesome,” Jenn sighed.
“Your use of the language is so strange sometimes.”
“How about I just say yes, then?”
“I like yes as an answer,” he said as he picked a blade of grass out of her hair. “You are so very different than what I thought the Serif-fan would be.”
“I’m a pretty big disappointment, huh?”
“Not at all. Anything but.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t live up to your expectations,” she said softly.
In the moons’ light, Saikain glowed. All around them, a myriad of fantastic, parasitic plants formed a garden in the central bows of the Palace Tree.
A shadow cut across their spectacular view. Saikain reached for his dagger but stopped after sniffing the air.
“Oh, it is you,” Saikain snarled.
“I hope I did not interrupt, Saikain,” Kei snarled in return.
“We were talking. Since you have no interest in being near our Serif-fan, I decided I should help her become familiar with this world.”
“Are you certain it is the world you want her to be familiar with?” Kei’s glowing blue eyes seemed icier than usual. Jenn bolted up and stood between them.
“Kei, you have no reason to be jealous!” she cried.
“Then why are you anxious?”
“Don’t be like this. It’s not like we had any choice about our engagement—”
“Whether or not we had a choice is immaterial, Serif-fan. I will not have my brother—”
“Do not dare accuse me, Kei!” Saikain’s feline snarl easily matched his brother’s. “You are as tradition bound as those crones in the temple. Can you not see the truth? She does not—”
“Do not say another word!” Kei warned. “No matter what you may think, there are still some traditions we must follow.”
“You just want to have something that I cannot have,” Saikain growled. “But that which is rightfully yours does not want you!”
Jenn stared at the bristling, posturing men. Her hands clenched into fists.
“Shut up! I’m standing right here.”
Kei’s face hardened. He bowed stiffly to the pair. “I am truly sorry for disturbing you, Lord Saikain. Please forgive me, Ji-ann, my Serif-fan.”
Kei stormed away before anyone could say another word. He broke into a run and leaped into a branch so quickly that even the trained Beast Tribe guardsmen only saw a blur. His destination was an isolated branch in the upper canopy. Few, if any, could reach the perch in human form, but he climbed up the well-worn bark with the greatest of ease.
He dropped his legs over a limb barely as thick as his waist, his feet dangling high over the night fog. He held the familiar bark against his chest.
Only there, far from prying eyes, did he reach into his pouch. He rolled his most prized treasure between his fingers.
It was a silver locket, lovingly polished. The writing carved into it differed from the scratchy writing of the Beast Tribe. As he set the locket in his right hand, the script began to glow. He popped open the clasp. Inside, a tiny projector illuminated a ghostly image of another gray figure.
He stared at reflective blue-black eyes. The woman smiled sadly from her flickering portrait. Kei snapped the locket shut as he heard scuttling footsteps on the branch.
“It is only me,” Kei heard.
“Only you would be crazy enough to join me out here, Spider,” Kei mused.
“I could feel the tremors in my web, Kei. You are far from the Path now.”
Without his creepy ceremonial robes, Sotaka appeared like any other young member of the Beast Tribe. He wore a fur vest and laced pants. He kept his hair long, in shaman’s braids, but wore no headdress to advertise his station.
“I am lost, Sotaka,” Kei sighed. “That damned Serif-fan—”
Sotaka’s laughter cut through the night. “I thought it was her! Your brother has not been subtle, has he?”
Kei bared his fangs. “If you were any other man, Sotaka—”
“I am eternally grateful that I am not any other man. Come on, Kei. Talk to me.”
“I never dreamed this would happen. We perform the Summoning every season and nothing! Why does she have to appear the one night—?” He buried his head in his arms. “It should have been Saikain, not me.”
“You are presuming to know the will of God, Kei. That arrogance will not get you very far down the Path.”
Kei roared. He roared until his voice cracked.
“Not another lecture, please! I was supposed to give up this life and wander the forests until I appeased the Great Leopard,” he croaked. “No one wants me to be the Sora-khar, not even the Serif-fan herself. She saw the reflection of my eyes as she awakened. It was not the Great Spirit guiding her—it was just my damned Machidonian face!”
Sotaka waited for his friend to calm down. “Tell me something, Kei. When you see a vision in the Holy Spring, do you ever see exactly what you are supposed to do?” Sotaka waited for his seething friend to answer. “Well? Do you, or are you guided by something in this world?”
“Saikain is the one with the strength to protect her, Sotaka,” Kei whispered, lo
oking away.
“Your brother has an entire tribe to think about, Kei. You only have one life to dedicate yourself to. Did you ever think about that?”
“Sotaka, she is terrified of me.”
“She has so much to learn. Kei, you must teach her—”
Kei shook his head. “No. How can my Path be intertwined with a woman’s who cannot stand the sight of me?”
Sotaka pulled off a shark-tooth necklace and wrapped it around Kei’s scarred neck. “My grandfather gave me these when I went through my first change. I was so sure, so very sure, that the Great Shark would rise and choose me, but only a tiny spider walked my way. This necklace reminds me that I am not the Path I chose, just the traveler.”
The shaman left his friend perched on his limb. Winds tangled Kei’s hacked-off hair. The young Sora-khar sighed and looked down at the necklace. “What a road,” he sighed.
“It is an honor that you would walk with me, Serif-fan,” Winowa said as they strolled along the foraging paths near the temple.
“Well, I saw you talking to Mikah, and thought ‘what the hell’? Thanks for letting me help out,” Jenn said quickly.
Winowa paused to pluck choice stems off a reddish shrub. Her basket was already filled to the brim with medicinal herbs. They continued along their way, followed by a full complement of spearmen. Winowa pointed out a row of red flowers. “Never eat those in the wild,” she warned. “Their petals must be smoked and dried before they are edible.”
“I’ll, uh, remember that,” Jenn said. They walked a bit more. “So, do you always do this? You know, gather herbs and stuff?”
“Most of the time, I serve Lord Kei,” she said softly.
“You serve him?”
Winowa pulled a mushroom and popped it in a bag. “We’ve known each other since we were children. My father promised me to him when I was only fourteen seasons old.”
“Oh,” Jenn said.
“Don’t worry. After Lord Kei was cursed, we were forbidden to marry.”
“Oh,” Jenn said again.
Jenn caught sight of the hunters’ compound. A dozen sweat-soaked warriors lunged at a row of straw dummies. The girls stopped short when they saw a glistening, gray back among the crowd. He scrambled up a tree and leaped into the air, snagging a bird-shaped figurine off a branch before landing on the ground.
