The UnFolding Collection Three

by S. K. Randolph

  A shudder jolted her shoulders. “He thought I was still unconscious. He thought he could—” Another shudder. “I grabbed his knife. I wanted to kill him but…” She grew silent and then continued. “Instead, I made a quick exit through the window.”

  Rayn heard her swallow and choke back a sob.

  “I have never killed another Human. I couldn’t do it, Rayn.” She shuddered. “We aren’t in the safe haven anymore. I hope you’re ready to kill.” Soundless sobs shook her.

  Anger rose in Rayn’s throat, anger so all-encompassing she thought she would strangle. Her world blurred. A rush of rage stunned her. Grappling to regain her composure, she put an arm around her friend. I will make them pay…for my mother, for Rasiana, and for our people. Clutching the handle of her weapon, she glared into the darkening face of her fury.

  When Rasiana’s sobs ceased and she fell into an exhausted sleep, Rayn tethered to her tukoolo. Aquila showed her two broticos flying away and the junkyard quiet but for the occasional rat scurrying from one heap to the other.

  She rested her head against the rough boards of the wagon and analyzed what had just happened. Never had she experienced that depth of anger. Too exhausted to think, she dozed.

  Cold night air whispering through the cracks and crannies of the junkheap roused her. A smothered sound close by left her wide awake and alert. Animal or Human? Aquila hadn’t warned her. Where are you? A tingle of SorTechory racing up her neck answered the question.

  “Rasi.”

  The urgent whisper woke her friend. “Wh…”

  Subdued voices penetrated the night silence. “I’m telling you she’s in this yard.”

  “We’ve looked everywhere. If she were here, we’d o’ found ’er.” The words dripped with sarcasm. “You really know how to work that box?”

  A muffled thud vibrated the wagon. A body hit the ground. “Ya, I know how to work it.”

  The careful tread of one pair of feet moved away. SorTechory’s tingling energy intensified. Rayn blanked her mind.

  A moan, the scrape of movement against the wagon bed, and a muttered curse reverberated through the confined space. The sound of feet shuffling against littered ground came to an abrupt end. An uneasy hush settled over the junkyard. Moments later the tingling stopped.

  A wha, wha, wha of wings passed overhead. Rayn clutched Rasiana’s arm. A whak whistled. Aquila’s presence filled Rayn’s mind. She relaxed.

  “We’re safe. Time to go.”

  Rasiana moved. “I’ll make sure we’re clear. Only come out if Aquila confirms I’m alright.” She didn’t wait for a reply but crawled into the junk-constructed tunnel.

  Rayn edged nearer the opening. Increasing anxiety made her fidget. Aquila’s all clear sent her creeping into the monotoned hues of early morning.

  From the circle of Kuparak’s arm, Rasiana gave her a wan smile. “We are safe.”

  Rayn rose from all fours. “Are they all dead?” The question lacked any emotion.

  Her hard tone raised Kuparak’s brows. He released Rasiana. “If you truly wish to train as an Animilero, Rayn, you must learn the value of all life. We only kill when there is no other way.”

  His words as gentle as the hand resting on her shoulder brought a rush of heat to her face.

  He moved away. “We must go. The flight across the Dirredaca Seâ will be a long one.”

  Toa flew into view. Kuparak shifted and shot domeward. Rasiana changed to a whak and joined Oha on the rusted cab.

  Rayn stared after the smoky galee. “I’m glad they’re dead.” Shaking herself, she frowned. Where did that come from?

  Aquila’s tether tingled in her mind. Sighing, she shifted and soared upward. Two whaks followed in her wake.

  36

  Jaradee’s Legacy

  Part 3 - Conflict

  F rom a great height, Rayn absorbed the immensity of the open sea; from skimming above the rolling surface, its tremendous power. Galee, whak, and sea birds soared together. Gigantic fish launched from the water, sailed through air, and splashed back into their home amidst spray and mist and sparkling water droplets.

  The sun painting clouds, horizon, and water vivid shades of teal, fuchsia, and middle-night blue ushered them to a landing on a small, tree-covered island at the center of an archipelago.

  Rasiana’s feet touched down, and her knees gave way. Kuparak’s hand on her elbow helped her to stabilize. Rayn landed next to them, conquered her touch of dizziness, and absorbed her humanness. She savored the smell of the sea, the touch of a breeze in her hair, and the sound of waves on the shore. The sight of the surrounding islands silhouetted against the brilliance of the setting sun left her breathless.

  “I have never seen anything quite this stunning. The water, the dome, the colors—” She smiled up at Kuparak.

  Sadness tinged his irises sooty gold. “El Stroma is a planet of much diversity and beauty. I hope Lusktar Rados and his lust for power do not destroy it.”

  Leading them beneath low-hung, leaf-laden branches, he stopped beside a spring trickling over a weather-worn outcropping of beige, moss-covered rock into a shallow pool. “Drink up, and then we sleep. In the morning, we’ll forage for food.”

  Thirst quenched and tired beyond measure, Rayn sat against a tree and stared up at the stars sprinkling the night dome. “How far did we travel today, Kup?”

  “We’re about halfway to our destination.”

  “You gonna tell us where we’re going?”

  White teeth gleamed in the fading light. “To the Isle of Osullini.”

  Rasiana flicked a bug off her pants. “I’ve heard it said Osullini is a desolate place…flat and barren as a sandbar. Why there?”

  “I believe you will find it far from barren, but we shall see.” He rolled onto his side. “Rest. Tomorrow will be another long turning.”

  The sun had not yet shed its welcoming light on the archipelago when Kuparak shook Rayn awake. She groaned, sat up, and glared at the first hint of morning hues accenting the distant horizon line. “Hard ground doesn’t make for restful sleep.” Stiff legs made her grumble. “Feel like an old lady.”

  He laughed. “Stop complaining. It’s going be a beautiful day.”

  She shot him a dirty look and knelt by the spring. Muttering under her breath, she washed her face, swished the dryness from her mouth, and moved aside to let Rasiana do the same.

  Kuparak offered her a handful of small, hard buds. “Eat these and then we’ll see if we can find some shellfish on the beach.”

  Popping a bud in her mouth, she sank to the ground and bit down. Sour puckered her mouth even as sweetness washed over her tongue. “What are these? They taste great.”

  “The natives of Thornland call them bay buds. They’re from a tree found bordering the beaches of northern El QuilTran. It grows well in sandy soil and handles the heavy winds and seas of winter.” He finished his handful. “Time to move.”

  Rayn and Rasiana trailed after him to the water’s edge. A gentle wave broke and receded. He dug his fingers into the sand. When he pulled them free, he held up a thumb-sized shellfish. “This is a beach cockle. It’s edible raw and has lots of nutrients. Watch for bubbles on the sand when the water flows out. Dig directly under the bubble. Gather enough for breakfast and meet me over by those rocks.”

  Rayn found the first one. Rasiana found two in quick succession. The hunt became a game. They giggled and laughed; chased each other along the beach; and when they couldn’t hold another cockle, they joined Kuparak on rocks worn smooth by water and time and added the wealth of their gathering to his pile.

  “Now what?” Rayn held up a cockle.

  Amusement smoothed the wrinkles between his brows. Selecting one, he inserted the tip of a knife between the ridged, pale gray shells, pried them apart, and tipped the contents into his mouth.

  “I can do that.” Rayn pulled out her dagger and popped the shell open. She grimaced. “Are you sure we can eat this?”

  Kuparak shrugged. “
Eat it or go hungry.” He tipped another into his mouth, licked his lips, and offered Rasiana the knife.

  She ate her first one and grinned.

  “Alright. I’ll give it a try.” Rayn tipped up the shell. The cockle sliding onto her tongue made her gag.

  Rasiana slapped her on the back. “Bite it and swallow.”

  “Oh!” A second one and then a third followed. She grinned. “I love ’em, Kup.”

  More merriment accompanied the meal. When they had eaten the last cockle, Rayn smiled at the shells littering the sand. “I had no idea raw shellfish tasted so good.”

  Kuparak’s smile matched hers. “Glad you like them. Get a drink and take care of your personal needs. We leave in one quarter time-circle.”

  The girls headed for the trees, went their separate ways, and met up at the spring. Aquila and Oha perched close by. When Kuparak had rinsed his breakfast down with cool water, he reminded them to stay in close proximity to each other and to him. Shaping his smoky galee, he soared up to meet his tukoolo. Rayn and Rasiana shifted and shot domeward. The long flight to Osullini had begun.

  Wing stroke by wing stroke, galee and whak covered the long miles. The monotony of blue water meeting the blue dome had begun to wear on Rayn’s nerves. Her excitement of yesterday’s discoveries faded into the unchanging rhythm of flight, the bright clarity of the turning, and the need for sleep. The sun, the only sign of progress, chased them across the dome, caught them at middle-turning, and outpaced them as it descended to the horizon. Once again, the dome glowed with the atmospheric optics of the turning’s demise.

  “Descending soon. Stay alert.” Kuparak’s message jerked her attention into focus.

  Far ahead, a phatomesque island stretched its featureless length over the sun-tinted sea. Heady from relief, Rayn flew with renewed vigor. Each wing stroke took on new meaning, carried her closer, enlivened her with the knowledge their destination loomed in range.

  K uparak gave Rayn and Rasiana the order to remain in flight and alighted on the glowing, lapis blue sand. Rayn squelched a desire to rebel, to shed her raptor form, to feel her feet on solid ground. I have to trust him. He knows what we face. I do not. She repeated the words over and over until calm prevailed. Soaring in yet another circle in the fast dimming light, she studied the size and shape of the Isle of Osullini. Three bays, one on the northwestern side and two on the southeastern coast provided safe harbors for sea going vessels, though she saw none. The island itself did not invite interest. It appeared to be nothing but lapis blue sand streaked with gold.

  Aquila flew to her side and hovered. “Land.”

  Banking to bring herself in line with Kuparak’s position, she swooped lower. Talons extended, she prepared her mind for the shift to Human. The atmosphere shimmered around her. Sand and sea vanished. Her boot-shod feet touched down on a carpeted floor in a room flickering with candlelight. Fighting the shock of her unforeseen surroundings and her shift to Human, she struggled to slow her racing heart and to prepare herself for battle.

  “Take your time, Rayn Jaradee Palmira. No one will harm you here.” The feminine voice held no threat.

  Rayn turned to find open interest in the light blue, hazel-speckled eyes regarding her. The ageless face framed by a riot of graying curls seemed vaguely familiar; the slight smile tantalizing. Prepared for the unexpected, Rayn kept her face and mind blank. “Who are you? Where am I?”

  “I am your paternal grandmameen, Keelyn Nashota Viho Palmira. You are on the Isle of Osullini.”

  “I saw the island from the dome—blue sand, golden beaches, and nothing else.” She kept her voice soft and steady, even as her emotions scrambled around the word grandmameen.

  The woman smiled. “We see what we expect to see, Rayn. Those of us who live here simply reflect the expectation back.” She moved to a bench seat beneath a tall, divided window. “Please join me.”

  Caution held Rayn still. “Where are my companions and my tukoolo?”

  Keelyn unlatched the window, pushed it wide, and stepped to one side. Aquila swooped into the room and alighted on the back of a chair. The galee lowered its head, beak to chest, then whistled a long, soft note.

  The woman touched her heart. “I honor you, Aquila. Thank you for taking care of the offspring of my son.”

  Rayn crossed to her tukoolo and ran a hand over its back. “You little traitor.”

  Aquila made a purring sound and resettled his wings. Rayn scratched its chest and sat down on the window seat.

  “Is my father alive?”

  Keelyn joined her. “He is not.” She sighed. “Like so many of our relations, he was mortally wounded in a battle. When asked by the Vasrosi to donate sperm, he agreed in the hopes that his death would not be in vain. He would be happy and proud to know you, Rayn. You are not only Jaradee’s legacy but his legacy and ours. We are grateful to Kuparak for bringing you to Osullini.”

  “We?”

  Her grandmameen looked beyond her and smiled.

  Rayn swiveled and came to her feet.

  A broad-shouldered man of medium height and indiscernible age walked into the room and moved a chair closer. Skin tanned by the sun gleamed in the warm glow of candles and oil lamps placed around the room. Lowering onto the chair, he tilted his head to regard her. “Please sit.” Burnished copper eyes gleamed. His generous mouth curved into a smile. “You have a look of your grandmameen. Jacy would be pleased.”

  “Jacy?” She perched on the edge of the bench.

  He rubbed his close-cut beard. “Dohata Jacy Palmira. Your father. He preferred to be called Jacy.” He lowered his hand to his knee. “Kup says you’ve asked to train as an Animilero. Why?”

  Forcing her rising animosity to subside, she said, “I assume you are my granddah?”

  “Arden Dohata Palmira, companion of Keelyn and father of Jacy. I am indeed your granddah.” His exaggerated calm flustered her more. “I require an answer to my question, Rayn. Keelyn and I will give you some time to think about it.”

  Her grandparents left the room. Rayn rubbed trembling fingers through her hair and swore under her breath. Maybe Kup’s right. I have inherited Daar’s bad temper. She made an agitated circle of the room. Its decor, unassuming yet elegant, gave her the feeling of understated opulence. Gold and burgundy formed a background for splashes of cream and rose. Pausing at the window, she peered at the garden. To one side, the first light of the rising moon illuminated an apple orchard planted in straight, even rows. In the opposite direction, a roiling mist obscured whatever lay beyond.

  Rayn sank onto the bench and rested her arms on the window sill. Why do I want to be an Animilero? More to the point, why does Arden make me so angry? An image of her granddah formed in her mind…the close-cropped gray hair and beard, the strange coppery cast of his eyes… She bit her lip. If I want to study with him and Keelyn, I’d better get control of my anger.

  A wink of light caught her eye. A quartz crystal glistened on a table at the end of the bench. Sliding nearer, she picked it up. Prismatic rainbows shot in all directions, danced on the creamy walls, and vanished when she lowered it. Rotating it slowly, she counted six sides and a single, centered termination. Awinta would call this a generator crystal.

  Fatigue, held at bay by the adrenaline rush of arriving in an unanticipated place and meeting her grandparents, raised its sleepy head. The crystal pulsed in her hand. Warmth spread through her body. She yawned and stretched out on the bench. Holding the crystal next to her heart, she peered at the cool, blue moon hovering outside the window. “Why do I want to be an Animilero?”

  37

  Jaradee’s Legacy

  Part 3 - Conflict

  T he smell of smoke and decay woke Rayn to gray mist swirling in serpentine loops over a muted landscape. The screech of scavengers fighting, the only discernible noise, sounded dissident and unreal. She sought the edge of the window seat, found rough ground instead, and lunged to her feet, mist cycloning around her. A quick wave of her hand dispersed it in
to hazy, drifting wisps.

  Vomit rumbled up her esophagus and spewed from her mouth. Dry heaves bent her double. Gasping and coughing, she straightened and wiped her mouth. The stench of death flared her nostrils. A bloodbath of bodies, Human and animal, lay scattered over the ground.

  Sidestepping around decaying carcasses, she made her way past a well to the smoking foundation of what had once been a home. Scorched stones, ember-edged boards, and blackened steps marked a family’s grave. A child’s broken toy lay on the ground, entangled with a sooty pink ribbon. She bent to pick them up. Her fingers met nothing but air.

  Mist boiled into dense smoke, concealed the carnage, and stung her eyes and throat. A gradual thinning exposed specter-like forms that wafted in the dissipating haze and solidified. Burnt structures lined two sides of a rubble-strewn street.

  Reticent to see more but unable to stop herself, she walked past a blistered post bearing a charred apothecary’s sign, a dry goods store where burnt bolts of fabric still smoldered, a market with blackened baskets spilling carbonized food into the street.

  A young boy, his head wrapped in a tattered, filthy bandage peered around the corner of a collapsed building. His searching gaze hesitated where she stood. Squinting, he shrugged, skulked back the way he had come, and reappeared supporting an older man, whose battered appearance told a clear tale. A woman, a small child strapped to her chest, pulled the man’s uninjured arm over her shoulder and supported him around the back. The rumble of an approaching vehicle prompted a panicked retreat into smoke and haze and what remained of the village.

  Rayn jogged across the road and dodged into the shadows. She scowled. They can’t see you, silly. Why are you afraid?