Fallen Halos

by Erin Hayes

  That’s not entirely true. There are a few customers that flit between shops, but the shopkeepers themselves mostly sit toward the fronts of their establishments, not moving unless there is interest in their wares. Or if there’s a thief, which is unlikely, given that they have their more expensive products close at hand.

  They’re all conserving energy. Smart.

  Unlike you.

  “Yeah, well, I have stuff to do,” I mutter, rubbing my temple.

  I spot a map seller at one cart, and he watches me warily as I sort through his maps. I smile crazily at him, giving him the impression that I’m harmless.

  Or at least harmless to anyone but myself.

  Mostly, these maps are old, torn and faded pieces of paper from the world before, of places I’ve never heard of or been to. Huge cities and densely packed streets show a time when people could build and build, creating large cities without worrying about the curse.

  “Where’s this ‘New York City’ place?” I ask the map seller, holding up one particular map. It looks unlike anywhere I’ve ever seen, and it’s surrounded by seas and water. I can’t even imagine.

  “Gone,” he says with a sniff. “Discounted if you’d like.”

  Yeah, that won’t do me any good, although I’d love to take some energy and study the cartography. I just can’t even imagine something like that in all the places I’ve ever been.

  “Do you have one of the Door to Hell?”

  The map seller raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “The Door?”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes, the Door. I have a death wish, and I really want to find the best place for demonlings to kill me.”

  His lips press together at my somewhat-joke, and he gets to his feet. He ambles over to a trunk and pulls out a rolled piece of parchment paper. It looks newer than the others and less professional as it’s been all hand drawn, but as I smooth it out over other maps, I can recognize a few landmarks including a few Door Stops that I’ve had the misfortune of spending a terrifying night at.

  It’s definitely the Door to Hell, although it’s crudely drawn, like some miner sat down to remember all the places he’d been. Still, it’s better than anything I could draw, especially with a sense of scale, and I can add to it with anything I can remember.

  It will work.

  I roll it back up. “I’ll take this.” I wave it.

  The map seller curls his lip. “Just take it. Damn thing’s cursed anyway.”

  I give him another wide grin. “Well, thank you kindly, then.”

  I put it away in my satchel as I move through the bazaar. One thing marked off my list, easier than I expected.

  I could get used to that.

  The kids of the bazaar don’t seem to mind expending energy. I see a boy and a girl chase each other between the stalls, without a care in the world. They’ll pass out later into Hibernation, probably the best way for their parents to keep an eye on them, so long as they don’t get hurt before then. I cast a furtive glance, trying to locate where their parents are. No one moves to chide the children from hiding underneath tables or squealing at the tops of their lungs.

  Are we that afraid that we’re no longer playing with our children? I don’t remember it being that way with my own daughter. I always made an effort to play with her.

  I turn back to them as they rush by me, pure joy on their face. Brother and sister, probably. That same muscle in my chest twists as I watch the girl. She’s a little younger than Beste would have been. If Beste had survived…

  My eyes catch on something glinting at a booth.

  There’s a telescope!

  For once, I thank my mind for being insistent and overtaking my actions. I loose a breath at the sight of the glass piece of a telescope gleaming in the sun. It’s at an old parts shop with loads of scrap metal pieces covering the table.

  Hopefully it’s still intact. I’m not sure why Nakir thought it important to have a telescope—after all, the Door to Hell is a wasteland with not much to see—but he insisted that it was important.

  So here I am, expending energy, walking up to the cart. The shopkeeper blinks up at me, almost surprised to see that I chose him. Maybe it’s my own mannerisms that are making him uneasy.

  You make everyone uneasy.

  I ignore the sly comment. “How much for the telescope?” I ask, nodding to the piece.

  The shopkeeper, a large, rotund man with chubby cheeks—testament to a sedate lifestyle—slides his eyes over to the telescope. “Ten thousand Manat.”

  “Ten thousand!” I spit the words out in disbelief. Not just more than a horse, but more than the price of a legendary Akhal-Teke horse. Ten thousand is more than I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. I don’t have that kind of money.

  The shopkeeper only gives a disgruntled nod.

  “But why?” Suddenly, I’m wondering if it is as important as Nakir seems to think it is.

  “It’s a working telescope,” the shopkeeper says with a froglike frown. “Not gonna see much of those in the world today.”

  “But…but…”

  You could steal it. There’s no way this man would be able to keep up with you. And no one would help him.

  That’s true. And a stark reminder of the world I live in. I grit my teeth, actually considering it. I’m not a thief, but it’s for a good cause. I see the shopkeeper’s eyes narrow as he watches me, as if daring me to take it and see what happens. Maybe he has a pistol somewhere.

  Maybe you can take the risk.

  “Ten thousand Manat isn’t too bad for that.” Both the shopkeeper and I twist our heads to look at Jennet smiling as she holds out a wad of cash. “We’ll take it.”

  In the daylight, in this dead bazaar, Jennet is a lily in the desert, foreign, beautiful, and completely out of place. She has a wrap around her head, covering up her dark hair. But her eyes. There’s no hiding her supernatural eyes.

  She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she focuses solely on the shopkeeper. Suspicious, he takes the money from her and, to my surprise, expends the energy to count it, licking his fingers for contact with the paper.

  “It’s all there,” I say, offended.

  Jennet and the man don’t acknowledge my comment. She has a strange, placating smile on her face, while he completely ignores her and finishes counting.

  “Yes, it is,” he mutters finally.

  He meets my eyes and gives a gruff nod toward the telescope. Not even going to wrap it for me. It’s times like this that make me realize how much more hospitality we shared back at the Lodge. That was all Maysa’s doing. She wanted our Lodge to be an oasis in the desolation in our world.

  But Maysa isn’t here.

  I feel the lump in my throat bob up and down as I swallow dryly at the thought. My wife isn’t here. I’m left in a world that is without her gentle grace.

  But Jennet is still alive. As I grab the telescope, her arm slips through the crook in mine, and she quickly steers me away from the cart.

  “Come on,” she whispers roughly in my ear, and I can feel her breath tickle my skin.

  Don’t need to ask you twice.

  I let her drive me away from the smirking man, and as soon as we’re out of earshot, she sighs in relief. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to hold up the illusion,” she says with an amazed laugh.

  “Illusion?”

  She nods. “That wasn’t real money I gave him.” I blink at her in surprise, and she gives another snort. “Nothing too big, just a small spell to make it look like some paper was all the money he asked for.”

  Clever girl.

  I try to glance back at the shopkeeper, but she puts a hand up to my jaw, forcing me to look down into those blue eyes. The gesture is close, intimate. Completely unexpected, and her eyes widen, as if surprised herself.

  Then she recovers. “Don’t look back at him,” she says softly, averting her eyes. “Don’t draw his suspicion.”

  Yeah, Rahym.

  Right. Makes perfect sense. I d
on’t want to see if he’s noticed. That could only make it worse. “Did you learn that from the witches?” I ask, deftly changing the subject.

  She slinks closer to me, twining her fingers with mine as we keep walking through the bazaar. Again, I swallow thickly, trying to think about anything other than her body up against mine. Jennet is still here, my mind tells me. Jennet is still around.

  Like a ghost resurrected from my past.

  “Yes,” she says, and it takes me a moment to remember what question she’s answering. “I’ve learned a few things from my tribe. Nothing too big…especially with the curse. But little parlor tricks to make things easier.” She snickers. “Such as having an unlimited amount of cash.” She nods to Fatma as we pass her buying bottles of vodka from a stall. The young witch smirks at us as she hands over some crisp bills.

  “So all this money…?” I ask dumbly.

  Jennet nods. “Being in a rebel group isn’t exactly the most lucrative career.”

  So that explains how Nakir is going to be able to buy some horses or how any of us are going to be able to buy supplies. I doubt we’d be welcome in Derweze ever again after this.

  You’re assuming that you’ll live after going through the Door.

  True. Very true. This will probably be the last time I ever see this city. And I feel strangely fine with that.

  It’s not like anyone at the bazaar is going to miss you.

  I snort out loud to myself, and Jennet peers up at me, curious. “And your ability to extend energy?” I ask, changing the topic. “Who taught you that?”

  She regards me for a moment, her eyebrows raised in question. “That was all my own learning. And I haven’t been able to teach it to anyone else. It just…happened one day.”

  “So there’re no other witches who can do what you do?”

  She shakes her head. “Fatma’s specialty is sensing demonlings. Kerem can heal with his touch. And Sena can shield us from fire. But me?” She grins almost wickedly. “I’m the only one who can transfer energy.”

  No wonder Nakir thought he had a gold mine with her. If she was the first of her kind, then Jennet may be the only chance he has of making it. It’s absurd, though, this whole thing. There’s not much that a few hours of energy can do. Nakir would have to be able to fly to get to the Watchtower safely.

  He’s going to get her killed.

  I clench my jaw and divert my attention away from her to the brother and sister duo as they pass by us. Jennet watches them, smiling softly as her eyes follow the two children. “You don’t see kids much these days,” she murmurs absently.

  A shiver makes it way down my spine. “Too hard to raise them,” I say through too-dry lips. “You can’t chase after them as much as you want. They need you when you can’t help them. And as babies, they’ll expend themselves crying in the middle of the night. You can’t get out of bed to feed them. And when you think you’ve gotten a handle on it, they’re taken from you, because you’re too powerless to protect them.”

  Jennet doesn’t say anything for a long moment as she watches them, a mixture of emotions crossing her face. “I’m so sorry.”

  I don’t meet her eyes. “Beste would have been a little older than the girl. She was bright. Smart.”

  “She must have been a character.”

  The memory of my daughter pulls up the corner of my lips. “Just like her mother. And she had Maysa under her thumb.”

  “Must have not been fair to you.”

  “They’d always gang up against me. Two against one.” I let out a short laugh, putting my hands on my hips with a slight shake of my head. “I’d give anything to have them back.”

  “Yes. I bet.” She nods to the children still running around the bazaar, seemingly nowhere near slowing down. They shriek excitedly, completely unaware of the dangers surrounding them.

  “They’re why I’m doing this,” she says softly, watching them.

  “Children?”

  “Yes.” At my blank stare, she gives me a small smile. “Back in the old days, children were considered to be a sign of hope for the future. And if there aren’t many children in the world, then there’s no hope.”

  “Can you blame us?” I ask with a scoff.

  She shrugs noncommittally. “I just want there to be a world where you don’t have to worry about where you lay your head at night. Where you don’t fall into a coma every day.”

  “And you think you’ll be able to help?” I know I’ve asked the same question of her before, but her unfailing faith in the mission is…refreshing. I’ve given up, much like everyone else here, and this is my last hail Mary before I know I’ll join Maysa and Beste in Paradise—why not throw it all away?

  But Jennet truly believes.

  “Hey.” We both turn our heads to see one of the other Halos standing in the middle of the aisle, a man around my age that I haven’t really gotten to talk to yet. Actually, I haven’t really gotten to know any of the Halos. Introductions take energy, and while I could care less about my own amount of energy at any given time, I know that the others are more careful with how they spend their allotment. That kind of conservation doesn’t leave much room for pleasantries.

  And judging by the frown on this guy, I can tell he’s not feeling pleasant at all. But Jennet smiles and gives him a slight wave.

  “Hey, Murat,” she hails him, and I can see as his gaze shifts from me to her. Protectively. Like he doesn’t like me being this close to her. She doesn’t address it, though, and instead says, “Did you find enough yurts?”

  He dips his chin in affirmation. “Expensive, but I managed. Only three, though.”

  “That will have to do. Everything’s expensive these days. We just paid ten thousand Manat for a telescope.”

  His dark eyes land on me again and narrow, taking me in. “Why the hell would you spend that much on a telescope?” His voice is threatening. Accusing. And I can’t figure out where the hell this hostility is coming from.

  He sees you as competition for Jennet.

  The thought brings a surprised smile to my face, and I beam over at him, which catches him off guard. Establish myself as the unstable, crazy person, and there won’t be any trouble from him in the future.

  I make a mental note to meet all the Halos now. The new number one on my list. As for anything else beyond that…well, life is so unexpected now, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. If I get to it.

  “They got it because I asked them to,” Nakir says, materializing from the shadows like he does when he wants to appear mysterious. It does the trick, though, and Murat shies away from him. The fallen angel seems like he’s in good spirits, though, and he gives us a wide grin. “So you got the telescope, Rahym?”

  I pat the bag holding it. “Yeah. Did you find any horses?”

  His smile widens. “Oh, I found something better than that. Far better.”

  Chapter 11

  “Are those…” My words fumble over themselves as I look at the animals before me, the metallic sheen of their short hair gleaming in the sunlight. “Are those Akhal-Teke horses?”

  Nakir crosses his arms, a proud smirk on his face. “Yep.”

  That bastard had managed to find one of the rarest horse breeds in the world. And not just one or two, either. Ten of them. Enough for every member of Halos to have their own ride. Ten of one of the rarest breeds of horses in the world. And I’m staring at them right now in shock. Both Nury and Kerem are loading them with supplies.

  Ten Akhal-Teke horses. If I found out that the curse had been lifted overnight, I wouldn’t be more surprised.

  “I figured we’d need their endurance and their speed,” Nakir says, walking up and giving a big grey stallion a pat on its nose. “They’ll still fall prey to the Hibernation after four hours, but hopefully we’ll go farther in that time than with other breeds.”

  “How the…?”

  Jennet clears her throat, and I remember that she can conjure up counterfeit money. And that it’s probabl
y not a good idea to talk about it out in the open. I should have been able to remember that, but the horses in front of me are a distraction unlike any other.

  Need to get your head screwed on right.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter.

  The sheer variation in the coloring of the animals reminds me just how beautiful my country’s national horse. There are two chestnuts, a grey, a light palomino, a golden, and two dark bays, a cream-colored mare, and a spotted one.

  One of the dark bay horses gives me a derisive sniff as I pass by it. “And you really think we’ll be fine with them?”

  “I’ll take point, and then we’ll keep the witches in the middle with the rest of the humans guarding them,” Nakir tells me, keeping up with my pace as I stalk around the horses.

  “Nice to know that we’re expendable.”

  Well, what do you really have to offer?

  I can offer grief, madness, and a weird sense of humor. That makes me lovable, right?

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Rahym,” Nakir says. “But I can tell you that the only way we’ll be able to survive our trek into the Door is if none of the witches die. We need their powers to see us through.”

  I watch as Jennet helps Sena, the older witch, with a huge portion of food. “And Jennet?”

  “She’ll ride near me.” At the harsh set of my jaw, he adds softly, “She’s the most crucial component of our team. Without her, I don’t know if we’ll be able to make it.”

  It makes sense, even though I don’t want to admit it. Nakir is the strongest fighter, by far. And with his abilities as an angel, Jennet couldn’t be in safer hands. Except for the fact that I don’t trust Nakir. Not after our last attempt to break the curse.

  “If she dies,” I mutter to him, “I’ll kill you.”

  Nakir follows my gaze, a sad smile on his lips as he watches her interact with the rest of the members of Halos. She’s taken a leadership position, delegating tasks and helping where it was needed. She’d always been like that, seeing what needed to be done. Maysa may have always put the needs of others before her, but Jennet instinctively knows what’s right for the entire group.