The Boy who Lit up the Sky (The Two Moons of Rehnor)

by J. Naomi Ay

  "It is none of your business, Sister," Moon snapped at me. "Go fetch the brat."

  Senya was in the closet, and so I had to first convince Flower to release him. I ran back and forth to Flower and Moon before the door was opened and then Senya crawled out. He was sweaty and covered in dust for the closet was never cleaned. I feared the fine gentleman would be distressed to see him in such a condition, so I quickly took him and bathed him. I dressed him in the clothes of a two year old, little pants and a shirt for he was certainly big enough and I was certain the gentleman did not wish to see him dressed only in our one year old sheath. I brushed Senya's hair which was thick and wavy and shiny black like all Karuts. Then I took his hand, and we walked to the foyer where the fine gentleman sat waiting on a bench. He stood as we approached and looked down at the boy appraisingly. Then he squatted down on his haunches and held out his hand.

  "Hello Senya," he said.

  Senya clutched my hand tightly but opened his eyes and gazed with his silver light upon the man. The gentleman raised his eyebrows and glanced briefly at me before turning his eyes back upon the boy.

  "Are you a good boy, lad?"

  "Not at all," Sister Moon cackled. "He is a challenge to all of us."

  Senya hid behind my skirt. He didn’t like Sister Moon.

  "Come now, Meri," Sister Moon scolded. "Make him stand before our lord sir."

  I pushed Senya out from behind me and held him by the shoulders. The man touched the boy's cheek and ran his hand across the soft shiny hair. Then he nodded and rose. "Thank you." He turned to leave, but Senya had let go of me and instead held his arms up for the man. "Ah, my son," the man said and picking up Senya, he hugged him tightly. There were tears in his eyes. "I can't take you with me now. You have to stay here."

  "Are you his father?" I asked. Could it be his mother was the Karut?

  "I must go," the gentleman replied, handing Senya back to me. The boy perched on my hip and held his hand up in a little wave. The gentleman didn’t respond to my question.

  As winter approached again, Senya was moved to the two year old room even though he had been with us slightly longer than a year and was probably only a few months older than one. He could toilet, dress, and feed himself with a spoon, so he did not need to sit in a chair or be tended to all day. My time was spent primarily with the infants and the ones, and so I did not see him often. He still spent an inordinate amount of time in the closet. He never complained when going in but rather seemed to prefer not to come out. He did not speak except to call me by name. Sister Moon feared he was of small brain and would never speak or learn a productive trade. He was beautiful though and everyone who gazed upon him agreed. This was unfortunate for him. As soon as he was old enough, he would be put to work in a trade where his beauty and silence were the only requirements.

  As for me, the Father traded my favors with his friends in exchange for money or possessions. During the food shortage of the winter, I was traded for two loaves of bread. He said of me that I was ugly, but was good with my hands and mouth and therefore, worth more than a few pennies. The money from the gentleman's summer purse was spent on more beautiful women, wines and chocolates and of course, a newer speeder.

  The fine gentleman came every summer, and each time brought another purse. He stayed not more than a few moments, asking Senya of his health and whether or not he had been good. Senya did not speak and not since that first year did he wish to be held or hugged. He gazed warily with his brilliant eyes and nodded in response to the gentleman's questions.

  Our adoption day took place in the spring. We bathed and dressed our children in clothes kept just for this day. Then we lined them up in their rooms, which were scrubbed clean and couples looking for a child came through. All the girls were adopted on this day and some of the boys. Senya was sent to the closet. Year after year, I looked for him in each room and only when it was over, and all the new families had gone home did I find him. The Father didn’t want him adopted, Sister Moon told me. That would mean the end of his rich purses.

  When Senya was with us six years, he was taken to the school room. He did not speak for the sister there and so it was decided that indeed he was of small brain and could not learn. I was fearful now. There was only one place he would go and already I saw the Father smiling and asking of him. The Father flush in new robes purchased with the coins from gentleman's latest purse called me to him one evening and bid me bring Senya. It was winter again, and there was snow on the ground, and the windows were covered in ice that seeped through and left puddles on the floors of the nursery. I fetched Senya and holding his hand, walked with him through the back corridors to the Father's study. I had been here many times, and at this hour I knew it would come to no good. I considered running away. I could steal a coat and some shoes for Senya for still he wore nothing on his poor ugly feet. We could run out into the snow and find shelter for the night and in the morning run far enough away from this place that we might come upon somewhere else to begin a new life. Perhaps I could take him all the way across the continent and from there take a boat to Karupatani and bring him to those people who surely would recognize him as one of their own. I did nothing though. I led him toward the back rooms because I was weak of heart and soul. My own body ached from the chill in the air which seeped into the marrow of my bones. I had no strength to run. I was weak and complied.

  "There he is," the Father said, opening the door of his great office. A fire burned in his hearth and instantly warmed my bones. There was brandy in cups upon a tray, and other foods, but I knew they were not for me. The Father gazed fondly at the boy as we entered and reached out to touch his beautiful black hair. Senya shirked away. The Father laughed.

  "Let me teach you something, child," he said taking Senya's hand from my own and pulling him to the sofa. "You are too stupid to learn books. You are so dumb you cannot even speak. You are obviously of Karut blood and lower than a dog, and this is why your family pays me handsomely to hide their shame. You are beautiful, and because of that you may live, but there is naught you can do in this life save one thing. Meri and I will teach you how to do this and I will reward you. Isn't that right, Meri?"

  "Yes milord," I replied even though my heart was trembling. Senya turned his silver gaze upon me and his brow furrowed.

  "Come now," the Father said, pulling tightly to Senya's hand. "See what I have here." He opened his robes to reveal his great and ugly manhood and placed Senya's little hand upon it. "Meri, teach the boy what he must do." Senya tried to pull away, but the Father held him fast. "You have one of these too, little Senya." The Father reached for the boy's crotch. "Yours is still small, but if I stroke it the same as you stroke me, we can make it stand tall too."

  Senya shook his head frantically and pushed himself away.

  "Meri!" The Father ordered. "Make him obey, or I shall beat him."

  "No!" I cried. "Please Senya. Do as the Father says." I had been beaten by the Father's belt, and the pain lasted for days. This would all be over in a few moments as the Father was aged and had not the stamina of a younger man. I grasped Senya and pushed him close into the Father's embrace. The Father shoved his hand into the boy's pants, and Senya shrieked like an animal.

  "Ah, there it is, and a very nice one too," the Father said. "Come Meri; show him what you can do with mine." I knelt before him and took him in my mouth. "See child, this is what you must learn to do. You will be very popular if you can pleasure as well as Meri. Good Sister Meri."

  Senya screeched again and lashed out with his hands. He scratched the Father's face leaving long, deep tracks that seeped with blood. The Father roared. He slapped the boy hard sending him flying across the room. He hit me too though I was only doing my best to pleasure him. I fell down against the floor. Senya scrambled to his feet, and though he was quick, the Father trapped him and pushed him down.

  "So you don't like it that way, Karut?" The Father hissed, ripping the trousers off the child. "Maybe you'll like it bet
ter this way. Are you pretty like a girl?"

  "No," I screamed. "No milord, please don't do that." I threw myself upon the Father's back and pounded at him, but he shoved me away as I was weak and inconsequential. Senya cried and made horrible screeching noises, but I was powerless to help him. I closed my eyes and covered my ears, so I was not witness to this. I called to the Saint, and his Blessed Being shone upon me and compelled me to open my eyes again. My eyes searched the room as if they no longer belonged to me for I could not control where they looked. They seized upon the hearth, the fire burning brightly and the poker which stood immediately to the side. I believed I could grab the poker. I could take it and hit the Father across his back. I could hit his head. I clambered to my feet, but I faltered because I was weak and the Father had fed me and kept me warm and safe all these years. I was ashamed of myself for my weakness. I fell again to my knees, and I wept and prayed to the Saint for strength. As I wept, I saw the poker moving of its own accord, releasing itself from its holder and flying across the room. I saw it dive at the Father, pierce him and I heard him scream in agony as it became lodged in his body. His body collapsed, and blood poured from him. Senya scrambled out from beneath the Father. The silver light shone from his eyes as bright as the fire and for a moment, the face I had cherished since first I held him was unknown to me. For a moment, I saw the devil himself reflected therein and then it was gone, and I saw only my Senya. His was bleeding.

  "Go in the washroom there!" I said and pointed to the door. I knelt down beside the Father. His eyes were open and wept as he dribbled blood from between his lips.

  "Help me Meri," he pleaded. He could not move. He was impaled upon the fireplace poker which flew across the room as the bottles flew from the warmer years ago when Senya was an infant. I realized now I had no choice. We had to run out into the snow and as far away as possible. I scrambled to the Father's closets, and looked for a cloak to wrap Senya, and something for me, as well. When the boy emerged again from the washroom, I had found pins to hold his trousers together, a heavy fur lined cloak with a hood that hid his face and large fur lined boots that would not be destroyed by his claw like toenails. For myself, I had taken several blankets from the bed and three gold coins that lay upon the table there. I helped Senya with his boots and cloak and then taking his hand, I led him to the door at the rear of the chamber, though the Father with a weak and gasping breath cried for our help

  "What are you doing?" I said when the boy loosened his grip from my hand. He hurried back toward the Father, his eyes ablaze with the wicked silver light.

  "Help me child," the Father wept.

  Senya stood above the Father illuminating him with the light from his eyes. He held out his small fist and then opening his hand, he dropped something. The Father's body erupted in flames.

  "Senya!" I screamed as the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed the room. The boy turned back to me and ran to my side. A moment later we were outside in the bitter cold, stepping upon drifts of snow that turned the night as light as day. There were no busses that ran in these hours so all we could do was walk, my own boots soaking through in short order and Senya tripping awkwardly in the garments far too large for his small body. We walked none the less and when the morning came, the snow still fell, but we were so far away that I felt safe enough to sit upon the steps of a building for a few moments to catch my breath.

  "Do you think they will come after us?" I asked the boy.

  "No," the boy responded and I was surprised as this was the first word that he had spoken. A man came up the steps just then and looked upon us with disdain. He spat in the snow.

  "Are ye here to rent the room?" He said.

  I was struck dumb. I looked helplessly at the man.

  "Aye," Senya replied.

  "Well come on then," the man said and together we followed him into the building. We went up three floors, and he opened a door to a small flat with a kitchen, a toilet and a sitting room. There was an old couch with tears and stuffing coming from it, a chair and small table in the kitchen, and a bathtub that was filthy and would need a good scrubbing.

  "Have ye got some coins?" The man asked, and I held out my hand with the three coins. "Three months ye get fer these," he said. "Then I'll expect ‘nother at the start of each month. Dun't be late, or I'll toss the both of ye out on the street."

  "Thank you sir," I said. He looked at Senya for a moment and spat on my floor.

  "Fucked a Karut, did ye? Spose that's all that would want a lass as ugly as ye." He shut the door behind him.

  "We've got a flat," I gasped and collapsed on the sofa. "We're free, Senya!" The boy walked the length of the small room holding out his hand.

  "It's warm in here!" I cried joyously. Senya disappeared into the kitchen. "But we have nothing to eat and I have no more money." Senya returned and headed for the door.

  "Where are you going?" I jumped up and smothered him in my arms. "Don't leave me."

  "I'll get ye some food," he said in the Mishnese of the street. I was shocked because he spoke and at the song of his voice. He pulled away from me and left me alone standing there. I watched him go from the window of my flat. His eyes were hard and narrow, thin slits of sliver light. His face was set with a frown, and I thought myself a cruel woman to send this poor child out into the street in search of food because I was too stupid to hold onto my coin. I knew what I must do now to retrieve a coin and make more. It was what I was good at or so I had been told. I marched down the stair and to the flat where the name on the door said 'Manager'. I knocked, and the man opened it to see me standing there.

  "What do ye want," he sneered as if he knew full and well.

  “I need a coin to buy food,” I said.

  "Yer an ugly Karut lover," he replied but his door cracked open a few inches more.

  "You won't be disappointed," I said. "If you are, you don't have to give me the coin." He smiled, and his teeth were yellow, and several were missing.

  "Alright then," he agreed. "Deals a deal."

  When Senya returned with his pockets full of coins, I had already set out fresh bread and soup. There was milk for him to drink, but I had not enough money for butter and eggs. He sat and drank the soup, and I asked where his coins came from.

  "You didn't get them the same way I did?" I asked fearfully. He shook his head and then showed me with his finger how he could make the coins lift from the table and dance and fly.

  "You're magical Senya," I said. "The Saint has blessed you."

  He shook his head again, and his eyes flickered.

  "Tis a curse." He left me to go sleep in the bathtub wrapped in the Father's fur cloak.

  I was pleased because I was warm and my belly was full and for the first time in my life, I had a home that was all my own and a child who was nearly my own to love and care for. But I was fearful too. Senya spoke and though his words were sparse it was clear he was not of small brain but one who has seen and heard far more than his years. He lived with me for perhaps two years more sleeping in the bathtub wrapped in the fur cloak during the winter and on a blanket in the summer. He disappeared during the day or whenever I had a Chester to service, and then he returned at odd hours during the night, sometimes with scratches and bruises, sometimes with blood on his hands. Over time, his absences grew longer and longer until perhaps once a week or less, he returned to sleep in the bathtub. By the time the guardsman came looking for him, he did not stay with me at all. I saw him rarely, and that was only when I baked, and he would come looking for sweet treats or buns.

  2

  Taner

  I was the one who found the boy. I walked the streets of Old Mishnah for two weeks asking everyone I passed if they knew of a Karut kid. I ate a lot of donuts, drank a lot of coffee, smoked a lot of cigs and sat on a lot of stoops. Old Mishnah stunk in those days. A perpetual brownish grey haze hung over our heads and trapped in the stench of the inner city. You couldn't find a tree and the only blades of grass that grew were the straggly we
eds that poked up through the cracks in the pavement. The gutters were the worst though. All manner of foul matter swam in the gutters, and the stench stayed in your nostrils for days.

  I was in the internal investigations unit of the Palace Guards. The entire three years of my career had consisted of investigating petty thefts among Palace employees. It was boring but good money and included room and board in the Palace which meant a decent flat and plenty of food. I was relatively happy. Then, one day, totally out of the blue, Captain Loman called me into his office and told me I needed to go down to Old Mishnah.

  "Old Mishnah?" I repeated.

  "Yeah," he said and gave me a pass to get issued a laser. "Old Mishnah."

  "And my assignment there?" I asked, wondering if I needed a blade, as well.

  "You're looking for a missing kid."

  "A missing kid?"

  "Yes, a missing kid," Loman reiterated.

  "In Old Mishnah?"

  "Is that not what I just said?" Loman snapped. "Are you not understanding me, Lt. Taner?"

  "Sorry, sir. I understand. Who is the kid?" I wondered if I was being punished for something. My last review went well. My immediate supervisor seemed to like me. I shifted in my seat and wished I could have a smoke but figured it would be a bad idea to light up in the boss's office. This was only the second time I'd been in this office. The first time was even less pleasant as I was getting reprimanded for daring to accuse Lord Phylyp of swiping a missing gold figurine that had been on display in the Palace's public museum. I didn't realize at the time that Lord Phylyp, being Prince Akan's significant other, was allowed to swipe whatever he wanted. That bit of indiscretion on my part resulted in getting docked a month's worth of pay packets and 200 hours of forced overtime.

  Captain Loman rooted around in his desk for a candy bar and finding one, ripped it open and stuffed it into his mouth. His big jaws moved up and down as chewed it and gazed out the window. I looked around the office and waited. Loman's office was enormous. He had a massive shiny wood desk, leather chairs and a huge vid suspended from the ceiling. The Captain was a big guy and he needed big things around him. His window opened out to the sea which today was calm and almost as clear blue as the sky.