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

by J. Naomi Ay

  It started to rain. Actually it started to pour, and within a matter of minutes I was completely soaked. I had less than 24 hours to find this boy and bring him in, and I was exhausted, my speeder was parked several miles away, and I was chilled to the bone in wet clothes. I sat down on a bench in a bus shelter intending to rest for a minute while the downpour continued, but I must have fallen asleep. I don't know how long I was out but when I awoke it was pitch black, and a fat, stinking, teenage street kid was sitting on my chest while two others were going through my pockets.

  I tried to yell, but the kid clamped his hand down on my throat and nearly choked me. Flipping over as best as I could, I managed to shove the fat kid off of me and reach for my gun, which at the moment was digging a hole in my butt. I scrambled like a crab backward until I hit the wall of the shelter and then drew my gun on the kids. Much to my surprise, all three of those dudes pulled guns on me.

  "Hey, you don't have to shoot me," I said, waving my gun in the air. "I'll give you my wallet." I reached back into my pocket again and pulled it out. "Here, here." I offered, tossing it on the pavement at the fat kid's feet. "It's all yours."

  The fat kid said something about how he was going to slit my throat and put a bullet in my head just for the fun of it while the others were flipping through my wallet pulling out the rest of my tenners. I was thinking that I was done for and what a lousy way to end my less than illustrious career and life, out on some wild goose chase for Loman for no apparent reason.

  "Fuck, it's the dog!" One of the kids yelled and two of them tore out of the bus shelter leaving a bunch of my tenners and my wallet behind. In the meantime, that huge mangy black mutt bolted in and grabbing the fat kid by the arm, he snarled as if he was ready and willing to rip it right off. The fat kid started screaming his lungs out, dropping his gun and doing everything he could to pull the dog off of him. I hustled to my feet and aimed my gun just in time to see Senya wrap his arm around the fat kid's neck. The dog backed off, growled at me and then lifted his leg on my wallet and money.

  Senya was nearly as tall as the older kid but less than half his weight, yet the fat kid went limp in his arms. Something glinted in the dim light of the shelter, and I realized Senya had a blade. "Where's me coins, Smirt?" Senya hissed.

  "I ain't got it Karut," the fat kid replied. "I tol you las week, I ain't got it. I'll get it next week. I promise."

  "You said tha las week," Senya said, and Smirt began to tremble as a bead of blood trickled down from his neck. "What'd I tell you las week, Smirt?"

  "I dun know."

  "Yes, you do. Remember Smirt? I said, you will die this week."

  "I know Senya but..." Smirt knees were shaking and began to buckle.

  "Senya!" I yelled, surprised as my own voice echoed across the bus shelter. "Don't kill him." The silver light turned on my face and in the reflection I could see that already Smirt had a long bleeding gash between his ear and throat.

  "Don't kill him," I ordered and waved my gun. "Let the kid go." Senya narrowed his eyes at me but thankfully, backed away from Smirt.

  "Thanks, Coppah," Smirt cried and bolted away with my wallet.

  Now it was just the two of us and the dog who was watching me warily while chewing on something in the corner of the shelter. The rain was beating on the roof, and my heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at Senya and realized who he was. Like a lightning bolt, it hit me.

  "Holy Blessed Saint!" I whistled through my teeth. "You're supposed to be dead!" Senya turned and started to leave, but I raced after and caught his arm. "No," I yelled. "No, you can't go. You have to come with me."

  "Fuck ye, Coppah," he hissed, and before I could react, he knocked me on my knees, his arm went around my neck, and the blade was at my throat. "Ye git the fuck away from 'ere," he whispered in my ear. "Or I be slicing yer neck, eh?"

  "I can't, Senya," I pleaded. "I've got take you in. You've got to come with me. You don't realize..."

  "I ain't goin' nowhere," he said and the blade pricked my neck.

  "Please kid. You don't understand. It's not what you think!"

  Suddenly the shelter lit up as speeders surrounded us. Senya released his hold on my neck, and I scrambled to my feet, reaching for him again as he disappeared into the darkness, the dog chasing after him.

  "Taner?" Loman called over to me.

  "He went that way," I screamed, trying to keep an eye on the boy through the darkness and pouring rain. "Give me your torch," I yelled since mine was long gone. Loman tossed it to me, and I ran as far as my legs would carry me and then I walked waving my torch back and forth illuminating every dark corner of every dank alley.

  It was four in the morning according to my watch, and the sun was rising. It stopped raining hours ago, but I was soaked to the bone. A speeder pulled up in front of me, and the door opened.

  "Tell me someone else found him," I said as I collapsed next to Loman.

  Loman shook his head. "We found another street kid, a big guy, with your wallet."

  "Yeah? Did he know where Senya went?"

  "He wasn't talking. He was dead. Hit by a bus a few hours ago."

  "Ah, shit." I closed my exhausted eyes.

  "We've got to get this boy, Taner," Loman said. "The King...it's the kid's birthday today. The king wants him here for his birthday."

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. "You guys left him on the street for twelve years, and now you're going to throw him a birthday party?"

  "It wasn't supposed to be like that, Taner," Loman snapped rubbing his temples. "The House Father, the Sister, they all complicated things and then they disappeared on us. My ass, hell, my head is on the line, Taner. The King doesn't know about him being on the streets. He thinks..."

  "He thinks what?"

  "He thinks the kid was being raised by a nice Mishnese family in the suburbs somewhere. He thinks the kid has Lydia's grey eyes and sweet disposition and will be perfectly pleased to come home today. He doesn't know about any of this." Loman waved his hand. "I was hoping you'd get the kid in a week ago so I could work with him, at least talk to him, explain to him what happened and maybe teach him some manners or something."

  I look over at Loman. He looked ill, kind of like a heart attack waiting to happen. "The King's not really going to fire you over this?" I asked.

  "He was my responsibility. I was supposed to keep tabs on him. I was supposed to keep him safe. I'm dead, Taner."

  "I don't know," I mumbled. "I've got a sick feeling about this kid. Maybe we shouldn't get him. Maybe we should let him go and tell the king he died or something."

  Loman didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling of the speeder.

  "I mean," I continued. "This kid nearly killed me tonight. He had a knife at my throat. The dead kid with my wallet, Senya told him he was going to die. Maybe the bus hit him after Senya pushed him under it. We can't let someone like that...You know what I mean, Boss? He could be a danger to everyone. He's probably on the street drugs and who knows what diseases and stuff he's picked up from whatever he does out here. He's not a normal twelve year old from the suburbs. Maybe we should just walk away now while we can."

  "It's not our decision, Taner," Loman replied.

  "But the king doesn't know what this kid is like," I argued. "What kind of twelve year old is capable of murdering two people in one night?"

  "The kind of twelve year old who killed a House Father with a poker and then set the body on fire when he was six," Loman snapped. "This kid is no saint, Taner, and you're right, he's probably very dangerous, but we have no choice. I have a kid his age too and if I don't bring this one in, my kid isn't going to have a father any longer."

  I stared out the dark window for a while. If this kid was bad, our whole future could be ruined. Everybody, the whole planet, could be destroyed.

  "What if he is really evil, Loman?" I asked quietly. "What if he really is the Infidel reborn? What if instead of stopping the wars, he's going to start bigger ones?" />
  "He's not. I know he's not."

  "How do you know?"

  "I just know. I just know," Loman whispered.

  "And if you're wrong?"

  "Let's just find him, bring him in, do what we can with him and if he's bad, if I'm wrong, I'll kill him myself."

  "Okay," I agreed. "Alright."

  "So let's find him," Loman nodded as we stared outside at the sunrise.

  "Right," I said and we continued to sit.

  "There's no way in hell we're going to find him," Loman sighed.

  "Unless he wants to be found," I added.

  "Should have put a fucking tracking chip in him," Loman mumbled as his cell rang. It was his wife.

  "Uh huh. Uh huh.” Loman started the speeder, and we tore off into the morning sky.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "To my house," Loman smiled. "He decided he wanted to be found."

  3

  Rucia

  It was four in the morning. It had been raining all night, and Loman had been gone for most of it. I hadn’t slept. As much as I detested his snoring, I needed the noise to help me sleep. It drowned out all the other sounds and lulled me. Loman was never gone at night. Being Captain of the Palace Guards, his days of walking beats and patrolling were long over. He had the top position and reported directly to the Lord Chamberlain and sometimes even spoke with the king himself. I enjoyed Loman's position. It paid exceptionally well, and we got invited periodically to events and parties at the Palace. Though I had never met the King and Queen or even Prince Akan, I had mingled with their cousins and the lesser nobility. I liked to tell all the salesgirls about that when I went shopping for new dresses to wear to a Palace party.

  My sisters were jealous of me too. When I first met Loman he was very handsome. He was tall and big and his hair back then was very blonde. He was so fair skinned that people often thought he was a Lightie from the Northern Continent. I thought he was too at first, and I wouldn't talk to him, but then a girlfriend heard through someone else that he was high up in the guard ranks and worth considering. I let him take me out after that, and I liked him well enough. He seemed to like me too, well enough, but I could tell that someone else was on his mind. When he kissed me, and later when he loved me, he seemed far away as if he wasn't really loving me but someone else. I never asked who, but I figured it out. She was dead by then, and we had our own son, so it didn’t matter any way.

  I heard Berkie's footsteps outside my bedroom door and then heading down the stairs.

  “Berkie?” I called as I jumped from my bed and grabbed my robe. What could possess that child at this time of night to go downstairs? By the time I caught up with him, hurrying down and nearly slipping on the stairs myself, Berkie had opened the front door and gone out into the yard.

  “What in the name of the Saint are you doing?” I called after him. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the grass and walkway were soaked and puddled with rain. “Berkie, get in here,” I snapped as I followed him outside. There in the grass sat a big black dog most likely making a mess of it.

  “He needs to come in,” Berkie said.

  “No way,” I replied. “There is no way that monster is coming in this house. Where in the heavens did he come from?”

  “Old Mishnah,” Berkie said. “He needs a bath and a brush to his hair and some food too. He says he's hungry.”

  “The dog told you that? Berkie, you're nearly twelve now. You're too old for that kind of foolishness. Now come back in.”

  “Not the dog, Mama,” Berkie cried as I yanked on his arm. “Senya.”

  “Senya?” I gasped. “Where?”

  Berkie pointed at the large maple tree overhanging the street. In the dim light of dawn, I could see the outline of a boy perched on a limb high up.

  “I'm going to call your father,” I cried running back into the house.

  A short time later, Loman arrived with several of his men. Their speeders lit up our quiet street, and I could see the nasty old woman directly across from us lifting up her curtains to watch.

  “Berkie what are you doing out here?” Loman demanded as Berkie was sitting on the front stoop in his pajamas, his basketball slippers sopping wet. At least it was summer and warm outside.

  “Waiting for Senya to come out of the tree,” Berkie replied.

  “Senya!” Loman stormed down the walk. “Is he still outside?”

  “Yes, Papa,” Berkie said. “Mama doesn't want him to come in. He's sitting up in the big tree right there.”

  “I never said anything about him coming in!” I protested. “I haven't said a word. Berkie how can you say this?”

  “Senya?” A young detective called from the bottom of the tree.

  “What did you say to him, Rucia?” Loman hissed at me while watching the detective try to cajole the boy down.

  “Nothing, I swear.”

  Loman didn’t believe me. “Go inside and run a bath and when that's ready, get to the kitchen and make the child something to eat,” he ordered.

  In my fourteen years of marriage to Loman, there had been many trying times, and this most certainly was one of them. What did he think bringing that little Karut creature back to this house? The boy was filthy dirty, and stunk like he had been living in a cesspool. Besides that, he was evil. We all knew it then. I knew it now. He killed beautiful Princess Lydia. I stormed upstairs, ran the bathtub full of near boiling water and then went into the kitchen and began throwing eggs onto the counter. One of them rolled off and splattered on the floor.

  “Blessed Saint,” I nearly screamed and bent down to clean it up. “Why our house? Why did he have to bring that horrid creature here?”

  “Because,” Loman said, shocking me out of my wits as he came up behind me. “No one at the Palace can see this boy until I clean him up.” Loman sighed heavily and settled his bulk at the kitchen table. “Can you just be hospitable for a few hours? Let Berkan meet him. Perhaps they will become friends.”

  “And exactly why would I want my son to become friends with him?” I squared my shoulders and nearly brained my husband with the frying pan as I took it out of the cupboard. Secretly, I was relieved that the boy would not stay but a few hours. “You know damn well what's going to happen to him as it should.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to him,” Loman declared.

  “Loman, have you been drinking at this hour?” I nearly laughed. “That boy shouldn't be alive. He should never have been allowed to grow as old as he is. He’s a freak! An abomination!”

  “Rucia,” he snapped. “That is enough.”

  “If he lives, the rest of us are doomed!” I slammed the pan down on the stove and proceeded to break eggs into it. “He'll be the death of this planet unless someone kills him first.”

  “Shut up, Rucia!” Loman shouted, his deep voice echoing across my small kitchen. “He is here now upstairs in our bathtub!”

  “No, he's not, Papa,” Berkie said quietly from the kitchen door. “He's right here.”

  Loman and I turned to find Berkie and the boy standing in the doorway, wearing a much too short terry cloth bathrobe and a pair of Berkie's old pajamas.

  The boy gazed at me with the strangest silver eyes, and my brain became fuzzy as if I were about to drift off to sleep. So help me, I dropped the entire pan of eggs upon the floor.

  “Rucia!” Loman scolded and jostled me out of my slumber.

  “Blessed Saint!” I cried, seeing what I had done. “Goodness me!” I knelt down and cleaned up the mess I had made.

  “I'll help you, Mama,” my little angel Berkie said and knelt down beside me.

  “Make some more eggs,” Loman ordered but at this point I was fit to be tied. I had not slept all night, my kitchen was a mess, the Karut devil was watching me with his wicked eyes and Loman was sitting there as if he were king.

  “No,” I sobbed. “No, I will not. Take him away. If you don't, I will leave. So help me Loman, do not bring that creature to this house again
or you will never see me again in this lifetime.” I stormed right past all of them and up the stairs into my room where I soundly slammed the door. I was at the moment perfectly willing to give up Loman's pay packet and all the beautiful gowns and Palace parties it would buy me.

  4

  Taner

  “No, you don't.” I grabbed Senya by the shoulders as he tried to move past me and out the door. After Loman’s wife’s little tantrum, he decided it was time for him to leave, as well.

  “Fuck off, Coppah,” he snarled, twisting away from me and breaking into a run. He bolted out the front of the house straight into the gun sights of Loman's guards. He pulled up short on the steps giving Loman just enough time to grasp him from behind and wrestle him to the ground.

  “You are coming with us now, lad,” Loman said and even this slippery little Karut could not get out from under Loman's three hundred pounds. “Cuff him,” Loman ordered so I did both wrists and ankles and then Loman picked him up like a sack of potatoes, tossed the boy over his broad shoulders and carried him off to the limousine which arrived while we were inside.

  “Come on Taner, Berkie,” Loman called, throwing the boy in the back seat. “We've got work to do." Berkie, still in pajamas, and I climbed into the limo, as well. It was the first time I had been in one and this one, bearing the King’s Royal Crest on the doors was especially grand. Berkie and I sat in the rear facing seats, I immediately across from Senya who was huddled in the corner, his hands locked behind his back and his eyes boring holes in my face.

  “Senya's not happy,” Berkie said, playing with the automatic window and when that got boring, the drink dispenser in the mini bar. “Can I have soda?”

  “It's five in the morning, Berkie,” Loman snapped. “Of course not!”