IGMS Issue 39

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IGMS Issue 39 Page 4

by IGMS


  "Get her back?" Saesa asked, puzzled. Rin was dead. Nothing could change that. It was a wonder Tallis hadn't died herself on the journey here.

  "The boats take the dead to the land of the gods." Tallis folded her arms, looking embarrassed. Saesa doubted she believed what she was saying. "Sometimes the gods bargain, right?"

  Saesa knew of many gods through her visitor's memories, but she had never met one. Certainly not one who walked and talked and bargained like a living person. When she gathered memories, they returned to the heart of the world and became part of all things.

  "She didn't deserve to die," Tallis continued, oblivious to Saesa's silence. "Surely there is a god who can be made to understand that . . . or at least one who wants something."

  "There are no gods like that here." It was repulsive to imagine those poor souls trapped somewhere, removed of purpose and waiting to fade away unless some higher power granted them a second chance. Saesa felt ill. She treated her visitors better than that.

  "But . . ."

  "No." Saesa's hand cut a sharp denial in the air. Language was coming easier with practice. "I eat them and learn their lives. When night comes, I let them go back to the world's heart to be made anew. They cannot live again." She walked away, repelled by what Tallis suggested.

  "Wait!" Tallis ran after her, her voice raised in desperation. "You take their thoughts?" She paused until Saesa nodded. "Can you give hers to me?"

  "To you?" This idea was worse than the first. Even if Saesa could do it, it would be an abomination. Two people's lives would tear a single body apart. "No. And if you continue to interfere, she will fade away completely." Saesa moved forward again, leaving Tallis standing in the sand. A line of boats stretched out before her. There was work to do and she had wasted too much time already.

  "There has to be something you can do." Tallis's voice sounded small and desperate.

  "I can help you leave," Saesa said after a long silence.

  "How?" Life leapt back into Tallis's voice like a fire splashed with oil.

  "I will make the sail."

  "Won't it just turn into sand?" Tallis's grey eyes were sharp.

  "It will not, if it is my hand that weaves it." She hoped. She had never tried anything like it before. "But I have a price."

  "What price?" Tallis folded her arms.

  "I will have to steal from the dead to do this. For every piece of cloth, I will take a piece of Rin." It hurt her to think of taking what should have been discarded, but nothing else came to mind. Tallis could not live on the island with her forever, nor would Rin's memories wait indefinitely.

  "No." The denial was immediate.

  "Then you will die here," Saesa said firmly. "And Rin will be a whisper on the tide."

  "Why are you doing this?" The anger in Tallis's voice was a whip-snap.

  "If you take her away, that is all she will be." Saesa gestured to the corpse, her own anger making her stomach tight. "I do not want her to disappear. The world needs what she has learned in her life. You will not let her go, so I must bargain."

  Tallis was silent for a long time. The waves left dark crescents on the sand, pulling the never-ending pilgrimage of boats closer to shore.

  "All right." Tallis's voice broke. "Take her. Save what you can."

  "Get up, girl."

  Something tickled Rin's nose. She snorted, batting it away. Sunlight streamed through the open tent flap, bright even though she squeezed her eyes shut. The annoying tickling returned. She cracked her eyes open.

  Tallis leaned over her, grinning. She tugged gently at Rin's braid, tickling the tip of her nose with the end of it again.

  "Tallis," Rin grumbled.

  "Get up. We're going to the fair." Tallis grabbed her around the waist and hefted her, bedroll and all, over her shoulder and out into the open air.

  Rin howled and giggled, squirming as Tallis spun them around in circles before setting her on her feet. She staggered dizzily, stumbling into Tallis. The older woman steadied her, smiling down as she gave her a rough, one-armed hug.

  "The fair?" Rin had seen the fair yesterday and wondered . . . but it wasn't the sort of thing they did.

  "Yep." Tallis grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the road. "Just the two of us."

  Rin felt like her face was going to split. She couldn't stop smiling.

  Tallis stripped the man's corpse with ruthless efficiency. When she had bundled up every bit of useful fabric, she climbed back down to the sand. Saesa touched her now-naked visitor's face in gentle apology, silently promising to return when she could give him the attention he deserved.

  She went with Tallis from vessel to vessel until the sun was low in the sky. The bundle of cloth was heavy as Saesa's feet took her back to her nest. She ached for the long line of boats left occupied on the cooling sand, but she hadn't the heart to attend to them now. She would do it tomorrow, once the sail was started and her grief at the necessary desecration had settled.

  Tallis scarcely acknowledged Saesa's presence, staring out to sea as though it was her soul Saesa had taken. Over the weeks that Saesa had been splitting her time between her other visitors and weaving the sail, Tallis had grown weak. It hurt Saesa to see the taut determination in the woman's face slackening and her eyes growing vacant.

  "You will die here." Saesa breathed the words softly, half-afraid to make them real.

  "It doesn't matter."

  Tallis's voice startled her. She hadn't expected an answer.

  "Would that be such a terrible thing?" the woman continued. "To stay here with her?"

  "When I am done, she will not be here at all." Saesa didn't believe Tallis really wanted to die. "It is a stupid idea. Your death would be a waste."

  Tallis's face went hard. She pushed herself to her feet and stalked off down the beach.

  "I'm old enough." Rin fought the urge to fold her arms across her chest. It would look too childish. She wanted Tallis to see she could be mature enough to handle a weapon.

  "No." Tallis didn't look up, her hand moving in smooth circles as she ran a whetstone along the gleaming edge of her sword.

  "Just a dagger. I don't want a sword or anything." She clenched her hands, then forced herself to relax them. "You could show me how to use it." She was proud of herself for suggesting it. If she could convince Tallis she was ready to learn . . .

  "No," Tallis repeated, her eyes flicking up to Rin's face and then down again. "I don't have time to waste on teaching you and neither does anyone else. You're too small, too young, too inexperienced."

  "How am I supposed to defend myself?" Rin shot back. "You're gone all the time and I'm by myself. What if someone comes?" She wasn't really afraid of being alone. She was quick and quiet. Even Tallis had trouble finding her when she didn't want to be found, but Tallis wasn't going to give in just because she wanted to properly join the mercenary group. Better to try to sell her mother on an exaggeration of the truth.

  Tallis's pale eyes bored into her. Rin glared back.

  "Fine." Tallis pulled a worn dagger out of her pack and tossed it to her.

  Rin fumbled and caught it. It was heavy in her hand. The leather-wrapped hilt was cool. She clutched it more tightly, scarcely able to believe it had been that easy.

  "Learn how to use it." Tallis was already getting to her feet. "Don't bother me about this again."

  Rin was certain she could talk Garen into teaching her. If not, well, she had watched all of them practice often enough. It couldn't be that difficult to copy them. "Thank you, Mother."

  Her thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt as she caught sight of Tallis's expression. "Sorry, Tallis," she muttered, face flushing. City children had mothers - soft, round women with voices that were full of feeling, women who wore dresses instead of armor and baked bread instead of swinging a sword for whoever paid the most. Tallis wasn't a mother. Tallis was their leader.

  Saesa turned the dagger over in her hands. In Rin's eyes, it had seemed bright and hopeful. The weapon she saw
in front of her was small and dull. The leather was dark with blood.

  "I gave that to her." Tallis stood behind her.

  "Yes," Saesa answered. She held the dagger out.

  Tallis took it. "Can you tell me what you see?"

  "You know most of it." The sail was nearly half done and they had fallen into a pattern. Tallis would walk the island while Saesa did her duty to the dead, returning only when she was certain she wouldn't have to see the dani at her task.

  "I don't know what she felt." There was a fine tremor in Tallis's voice. Her strong hands held the dagger lightly, fingertips caressing its sunlit length with the delicacy of a soap bubble.

  "I will try." Anything to push back the terrible deadness in Tallis's eyes. Saesa couldn't stand to see that look on a living woman's face.

  Tallis tucked the dagger away, catching Saesa's sharp-clawed hands and squeezing them hard. Her face was a tumble of wanting and fear.

  Laughing wildly as she ran through a field that smelled of honey and damp hay, her arms flung wide. Huddling in a cave in winter, stomach so empty it was past complaining. Tallis herself, covered in blood and returning triumphantly to camp like a mythic heroine. A warm fire at a rare roadside inn. Garen in the boat they had cobbled together from driftwood, lying too still.

  The memories ran together as the sail grew. Saesa's fingers fumbled the task at first, struggling to find the knack of it in the memories that flowed through her mind. It was green brocade and snowy linen, lilac silk and rough brown homespun, patched together at night while Tallis slept. The warrior-woman no longer wandered the island, but sat with her back to Saesa, listening with her entire being as the dani let the memories she saw turn into words.

  Learning to mend armor. Dodging kicks from merchants as she explored a shoddy, colorful market. Hiding in the dark, wondering who wouldn't come home this time. Cutting her hands as she tried to hold the dagger just so.

  "This is the last." Saesa ran her hands over the long, braided twist of fair hair - all that remained of Rin's body.

  Tallis nodded and sank down onto the sand. She had calmed through the long days of exploring her daughter's memories. "I'm ready."

  Saesa lifted the braid to her lips slowly. When this was done, Tallis would leave and Saesa would be alone again. The unbound end of the braid tickled her nose. She had to finish. It wouldn't be right to leave the job undone. She tucked the hair into her mouth, chewing the salt-tangled tresses and letting her mind go. The taste of fire burst hot and greedy against her tongue.

  "Get under that log." Tallis pushed Rin down into the hollow and kicked up the leaves to hide her. "Stay until I come for you. If I'm not back by midday, take the road south to that village we passed through. Don't look for me and don't speak to anyone until you reach town. Understand?"

  "No," Rin hissed. She didn't want to hide.

  Her head snapped back as Tallis's hand connected with her cheek. Face burning, she sank back into the rotting leaves. Fury bubbled up in her chest.

  "Stay here. Don't make me tell you again." Tallis's voice was sharp with disapproval. Rin watched her long legs carry her away through the trees and out of sight. Rin clutched her dagger, fighting tears as she settled in to wait. It wasn't fair.

  The sky lightened. Every rustle made Rin sit up, only to sink back down again when it proved to be a squirrel or wind rustling the leaves. She closed her eyes, aching and exhausted. Next time she would find some way to prove she could help.

  They burst into the clearing, swords a furious blur. There was blood on Tallis's face and she was favoring her right leg. Rin wiggled forward, trying to get a better look at the fight.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Tallis was slowing down, her movements desperate and abrupt. Her opponent spun towards her, whipping his sword around in a complicated dance. Their blades met and locked. For a moment, it was stalemate, then Tallis fell. Rin covered her mouth with her hands, biting her cheek to stop from making noise. She crawled out from under the log. She had to help.

  The man stood over her mother. Tallis's labored breathing sent up harsh plumes in the chill, early-morning air. He kicked Tallis's sword away, sending it spinning into the undergrowth. She glared up at him with furious, smoldering eyes, never looking at Rin's hiding place.

  Rin crept towards them, moving silently like Garen had taught her. The hand that held the dagger was sweaty and her legs shook. She held her breath, looking for a weak point. The man wasn't wearing heavy armor, which was good. Her dagger wouldn't have been much use if he had been. She wasn't even sure it would puncture his thick leather vest.

  She was nearly too close already. There had to be a way. Squashing down the sick squirming in her stomach, she lunged in low. Her dagger slashed through the back of his knee. He shouted, going down almost on top of her. She jerked back, wrenching the dagger free. This time she aimed for the unprotected juncture between his neck and shoulder. The dagger slid in.

  Hot blood spurted over her hands and face. She stumbled and sat down hard. He fell back and lay still. Rin's chest was heaving. The blood in her eyes stung and she wiped at them. When her vision was clear, she saw Tallis. Her mother stared at her with wide, shocked eyes.

  Rin smiled. She got up and wiped the dagger on her leggings. Tallis would have to admit she was good enough now. She stepped over the body.

  Tallis's expression changed. The dawning pride in her face turned to horror. Rin stopped. The leaves behind her rustled. She turned. The man was on his feet, blood bathing his left side. She had missed the killing blow. He took one decisive step. She stared up at him. His expression was as cold and blank as the one Tallis usually wore.

  Behind her, a woman screamed.

  Rin looked down. Her hand was wrapped around the burning cold steel that protruded from her chest.

  He pulled back and the wound burst into throbbing, agonizing life.

  She was on the ground. How had that happened?

  Tallis had her dagger. She was kneeling on the man's chest, drawing it across his throat with the fury of a goddess.

  Tallis was cradling her in her lap, sobbing. That couldn't be right. Tallis didn't cry and Tallis didn't hug her.

  "Mother?" Her voice broke.

  "It's okay, Rin. I'm here," Tallis gasped, stroking her blood-matted hair with shaking, desperate fingers. "I'm going to fix this. I'm going to fix this."

  Rin smiled, even though it hurt and nothing seemed to work right. She felt distant and warm. Her eyes drifted closed. If Tallis said it would be fine, then it would be. She would sleep and when she woke up, they would be together.

  Tallis leaned forward, her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook. Saesa wrapped her slender arms around her. Rin was gone - and soon Tallis would be too. The woman turned into her embrace, burying her face in Saesa's dark hair.

  "It was my fault." The words were muffled. "I should have run the other way. Or let him kill me. Or thought to check that he was dead. I should have left her with some nice innkeeper the day she was born." She shook her head. "So many things."

  Saesa shrugged. "Perhaps." What did fault have to do with it? "But all mortals die."

  "She shouldn't have." Tallis pulled back, rubbing her eyes. A trace of the anger she had brought with her had returned. "What do I do now?"

  Saesa sighed. Until Tallis, she had only seen mortal lives from afar. They were much more complicated up close. "You know she loved you and wanted you to live. You know you loved her and wanted the same. Go live."

  Tallis snorted, the ghost of a smile flitting across her face. "Everything's simple with you."

  "I am not mortal. Eternity is much longer to straighten things out." Saesa smiled, showing her pointed teeth.

  A crooked smile dawned on Tallis's face. Saesa felt her heart lift. With that expression, Tallis looked very much like Rin.

  Saesa carried the heavy folds of the finished sail down to Rin's boat. Tallis was waiting, her face calm and her eyes far away. The boat was floating in the shallows, rocking ge
ntly in the waves.

  They rigged the sail in silence. When the last rope was tied off, the multi-hued patchwork rippled in the strengthening evening breeze, snapping and crackling as it filled.

  "I'll be back when it's my time." Tallis spoke without taking her eyes off of the horizon.

  "Yes." Saesa nodded. "And I will be here waiting."

  Memory of Magic

  by Jacob A. Boyd

  Artwork by M. Wayne Miller

  * * *

  This is how I imagined it.

  Coppers Rest would band together and dig Daddy free before the year's first snowfall. Standing with one foot still in the mine, Daddy would squint at the sun and smile. A breeze would ruffle the wispy, auburn beard which would've grown down to his chest, while a broad-winged hawk kited overhead, its body a russet blaze against the limitless blue. Sprays of violet asters would line the path down to camp. The mine would reward Daddy for his suffering, his endurance, his example. Wearing a formal top hat, the mayor would shake Daddy's hand. They'd hold the pose and wait for the reporters' sulfur bulbs to flash. The story would chitter out across the transcontinental wire.

  But there was no use pretending.

  As I lay in bed reading the last book Daddy had bought me, the world was the wind howling down from the pass, colder each day. It was the walls of the shack creaking. It was the squeal and crumble of mine carts unloading and making up for lost time. A lantern flame and too little oil.

  It was, and couldn't un-be.

  Madame Blye agreed. While she rarely made house calls, she said she had made an exception for me. She ran a house for working girls, but she hadn't come on business, rather something more important. School teacher Strobel told her I hadn't returned to class since the cave-in. His best girl, thirteen years old, I should've been someone to look up to. Where was I instead, burying my head in a book? Yes, I had a right to my sorrow, but it wasn't sustaining. I should've faced facts sooner. The exploratory tunnel was closed. Daddy was gone.

 

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