Violet

by Rae Thomas

  “Leave me, Violet.”

  “Saul, we won’t leave you here.”

  “Even if I make it, I won’t be saved. That much is clear. At this point, I’m only slowing you down.”

  I know that he is correct; for Saul to continue on this trek puts us all in danger. But when I was in danger Saul was there, and I will defend him with my life.

  “I may not be able to save you, Saul, but I’ll make sure you see paradise.”

  Saul looks relieved. Though he knew it would be best for us to leave him, I’m sure he hoped I would refuse. No one wants to sit alone in the desert waiting to die. I fashion an arm sling out of the pants from my prison garb, and we’re on our way.

  Our progress is slow. Saul stumbles often. Sometimes he falls. I allow Saul and Foster to move ahead of us a little, and I ask David if he thinks that bringing Saul was the wrong choice. While I do not regret making the decision for us, I fear that David may be resentful of our slow progress. After all, I risked his life in addition to Foster’s without even consulting him.

  David looks into my eyes, and I know that he is telling the truth when he says, “Violet, you’re not the only one that Saul saved.” Immediately my mind returns me to that first night on Earth. Saul and Foster dragging David’s limp body to safety. “I was sun-sick and in and out of consciousness, but I heard them talking. Foster said that I’d get us killed. He pleaded with Saul to leave me behind. Saul said no. He wouldn’t even hear of it.”

  I look up at Foster and I know that David sees the anger in my eyes because he says, “Violet, you can’t blame him for putting his own life before a stranger’s.” I know that he’s right. Foster was only trying to survive. My anger is misplaced. The person that I am truly angry with is myself. I had seen Foster on the transport. I had wanted him on my team. In the end it was Saul, the person that I was afraid of, who saved both of our lives. I’m beginning to think that I’m not a very good judge of character.

  I shake my head, ashamed of myself. “Come on, David, let’s catch up to them.”

  The walk seems endless, especially because of our impeded progress, but I am resolute. I will not leave Saul. I may be trapped on this planet until the day I die, but I will not leave Saul. David and I walk hand-in-hand. I know that he feels the same way.

  Our progress has been very slow, but we must have underestimated our proximity; as daybreak arrives, we see Amara in the distance. Elated, we take a few moments to celebrate. Energy is high and we want to run or at least jog the rest of the way, but Saul’s condition is ever-worsening. He can hardly walk, much less run. Finally, around midmorning, we stand at the border of Amara. It’s just as I dreamed it. Tall trees bloom up and outward, spreading branches like open arms. Vines are hanging, thick greenery abounds. Flowers bloom in colors that I’ve never seen. We enter slowly, quietly, almost reverently. The vegetation is easier to pass through than we anticipated. Amara seems to invite us in. We progress further into the jungle. Soon, we cannot see the desert on the other side of the curtain of green. We reach a clearing and we decide to stop to eat and drink for a while. Truly, we just want to allow Saul a moment to rest without embarrassment. His sickness continues to progress. The blackness that began in his bite now reaches his shoulder.

  I approach Saul to help him into a seated position; I can see how weak he is, and I don’t want him to fall. I put my hand under his good arm, and suddenly he jerks away, using his elbow to shove me to the ground. “Get off of me!”

  I can’t understand why he is so upset; we have helped him walk all night long. Why is he acting this way now? Still on my back, I use my elbows to scoot away from him. “Saul, I’m sorry, I was only trying to help you!”

  David and Foster stand watching, too shocked to move.

  “Help me? You were trying to help me? You can’t even help yourself! Or am I forgetting something? No, that’s right! I pulled Alexander off of you! I did what you couldn’t!”

  David jumps forward to help me to my feet, but Foster remains frozen in disbelief.

  “Oh, now David’s going to be your savior? I seem to remember dragging his unconscious body through the desert! Which reminds me! Where was your little boyfriend when Alexander dragged you from your bed? Where was he when Alexander tore the clothes from your body? Nowhere!”

  Saul’s face has purpled with his rage. His eyes remain yellow from the infection of his bite. He is screaming so that spit flies from his mouth and a white foam has begun to form around the edges of his lips. As he screams, a stream of blood begins to flow from his left nostril.

  Now, he turns on Foster and pulls his knife from his pocket. David and I draw ours, too, but we hesitate. Saul does not move toward Foster and there are two body lengths between them. Saul continues to scream, “And you! Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at me! Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing my pack, just waiting for me to die so you could take it! I know you wanted to leave me for dead!”

  Foster shakes his head vehemently. “No, Saul, no! It’s not true, I wouldn’t leave you!”

  “Oh really?” Saul shakes with anger. “I find that hard to believe considering the fact that you tried to convince me to leave him!” Saul points a finger at David.

  Foster continues to shake his head. “No, Saul. That was different! I didn’t even know him. I just wanted to be sure that both of us survived.” He turns to David and says, “I’m sorry, David.”

  David shakes his head. He understands.

  In the moment that it takes for Foster to turn to face David and me, Saul lunges at him with the knife. Before any of us can react, a wooden arrow flies from the tree branches above us and strikes Saul, stopping him mid-leap. We all look down. The arrow struck Saul in the eye. He lies dead at our feet.

  Foster falls to his knees and puts his head in his hands. I rush forward toward Saul. I don’t know what I think I’ll accomplish; he is obviously dead. Suddenly, a heavily accented voice calls out, “Don’t touch him!”

  A very tall and very muscular man drops down from the tree branches. A moment later, a woman joins him. They both have dark skin and wear clothes made of brightly colored fabrics. I am surprised when I see that it is the woman who holds the bow. Her hair is very long and wildly curly. She steps forward. “His blood is poison.”

  Foster has regained his composure, though he still kneels on the ground. He asks, “Why did you do it? He wouldn’t have hurt me. We could have stopped him without killing him.”

  She shakes her head sadly. “We have seen those bites before, on those who come from the desert. We have found no plant that can cure the sickness. He would have killed you all before his madness was spent, and his death would have been slow and painful. He would have known that he had murdered his friends, but he would not understand why… In the end, he would have welcomed death, but not because of acceptance. Because of shame.” She bows her head and her voice gets quiet. “As I said, we have seen it before.”

  Now the woman raises her head and looks at us authoritatively. “I am Ramla. You must come with us now. You cannot stay without sanction of The Elders.”

  Fifteen

  As we follow Ramla through the jungle, I find myself thinking about my mother. She had somehow assimilated into the culture here, but she had entire rotations in which to do it; we have only one day to gain the trust of these Elders and to find my father’s Cube shard. Can it be done?

  We do not walk for long before we reach a grassy clearing. This must be the main village. Surveying the area, I see small circular houses made of some type of clay-like material with roofs made of thick layers of dried grass. People work outside washing clothes or cooking, but most of them stop to look at us as we pass. Some of them seem neutral to our arrival, but some of them seem angry. I don’t really comprehend why, though, because it seems that the tribe often accepts travelers who wish to settle here; many of the residents appear to be from different races and backgrounds. People must come from far and wide in the hopes of settling in Amar
a.

  We reach what I believe is the center of the village. There is a large circular open area. On the outer edges of this area are benches carved from wood and cushioned with grasses. This must be where meetings are held. The center of the circle holds a fire pit, on which a large animal of some kind is being roasted. We walk around the fire pit, and I breathe in the aromas of the cooking meat. I can see David and Foster eyeing it as we pass; we have not had fresh food in days.

  Finally, we stop at a building that sits at the base of the circle. Presumably, we have reached The Elders. Ramla pushes aside a curtain made of wooden beads and shells that click together as she moves through them. She holds a hand up to us, telling us to wait. We can see movement on the other side of the curtain, and I hear Ramla speaking. “They have come,” she says, and then continues to speak in a language that I do not understand. They have come? Ramla returns to the doorway where we wait, draws the curtain aside and says, “You may enter.”

  David leads the way through the beaded curtain, and Foster brings up the rear. When we enter the structure, I realize that it is comprised of one large circular room. The walls of the room are decorated with bright murals and symbols that I do not recognize. Among them, there is one that I do know: the interlocking diamonds, the symbol of The Third Stone.

  There is little furniture in this room, but there are shelves filled with pots, bowls, and jars. Most of them are the color of clay, but some of them are glass. On the far end of the room, five individuals are seated. These must be The Elders. There are three women and two men. The women wear flowing fabric tied around their necks. The men wear wrapped skirts like the man who accompanied Ramla in the jungle, but these men also have another swath of fabric draped from their shoulder diagonally across their chests and attached at their hips. All of The Elders wear black, but some of them have their arms and faces adorned with symbols painted in white. The women wear their hair pulled up onto the top of their heads. All of their hair is beginning to grey, but they do not seem to be extremely old. None of them are very far past middle age.

  Ramla gestures to three cushions that have been placed about two body lengths from The Elders. We are to sit here. Ramla kneels on a cushion halfway between us and them. One of the females is the first to speak. Her speech is halting, as if she is searching for the words. “We know only a little of your language. It is difficult for us to understand. We prefer to speak in our native tongue. Ramla will help us.”

  We nod. Ramla is to be our interpreter.

  One of the men begins to speak in the language that we heard earlier.

  Ramla turns to us. “Ramla told us that two would come. You are three. Who is the third?”

  Foster begins to speak, then falters, clears his throat and begins again. “I am. My name is Foster.”

  Ramla relays this to The Elders, who respond through her. “You did not begin your journey with the other two. You do not come with the same purpose.”

  Foster shakes his head. “No. We only traveled together.”

  Ramla responds, “You may stay in Amara, if you wish, but you must live by our laws. You must do your part to support the people.”

  “Yes. Please. I have nowhere else to go.”

  Ramla nods. “You may go, then. Adam will teach you about our ways and help you find your place among the people.” Ramla gestures toward her male companion, who has been standing near the door.

  Foster gets up and follows him out. Ramla waits a moment until she is sure that both Foster and Adam are gone. Then she looks to The Elders, who continue our conversation. Ramla speaks again. “You are the two that I saw. We know that you come seeking something of ours. The Elders fear that you will bring danger.”

  I nod my head. I was afraid this might happen. “Yes, there is something that we seek, but we are not bringing danger. We wish only to protect—both your people and ours.”

  Ramla relays this message to The Elders. She does not have to tell us what they say; I can see it in their faces. They do not believe us; our presence is a threat.

  “They want you to go. Now. They say that they cannot allow you to stay if you will put our people in danger. They will not risk the people’s lives. We are peaceful. We have existed for many years without conflict. But we will react aggressively if we must.”

  David shakes his head emphatically. “No, we have not brought danger, but danger will come because they seek what we seek. If they find it, then your people will be in danger. Everyone will be.”

  Ramla nods. “Yes, this is what I have seen. But The Elders do not listen. They do not understand. They believe you are the danger.”

  David and I look at each other. We’ve come all this way, and may leave empty-handed. David whispers, “We have to find a way to show them that we’re telling the truth. We have to find a way to make them believe us. If they don’t trust us, it doesn’t matter how long we stay; we’ll never find it without their help.” I know that he’s right. Amara spans many miles. Looking for the Cube shard blind could take years. We might search forever and never find it.

  Suddenly I am struck by a thought. Slowly, I pull my father’s watch from the waistband of my pants. I press the button and the door swings open. What was it that they had called her? “Adanech,” I say.

  I pass the watch to Ramla, and she looks up at me, startled. Her eyes fill with tears. “What do you know of Adanech?”

  I look back at her. She had known my mother more than I had. She had loved her, I can see it in her face. I respond, “When I knew her, her name was Tara. She was my mother.”

  Ramla continues to look at me. Her eyes can no longer hold her tears and they begin to overflow, streaming down her cheeks. The Elders do not need her to interpret this. They pass the watch to one another, and then look at me sharply. They know the word mother.

  I speak directly to The Elders. “They are coming. They will take what you have. We must find it first. It is part of an artifact, a piece of broken stone. Please.”

  Ramla looks at me as she relays my message to The Elders; her face is shadowed. She seems uncertain.

  The Elders begin speaking amongst themselves quickly. They seem to conflict. Ramla watches them for a few moments and then turns back to us. “The Elders do not agree. Adanech was part of our tribe; though you will be respected as her daughter, they still believe that you bring your people’s fight to our land.”

  I hang my head in defeat. David holds my hand. Ramla continues, “You must leave the village. I will take you somewhere safe.”

  We get up to go. There is nothing else for us to do; we have already failed. When The Vox learns that a piece of The Cube is here, they will stop at nothing to get it. All of these people may be massacred.

  Ramla leads us out of The Elders’ room and back into the sunlight. She does not speak. We follow her past the line of houses and leave the village. We have now reached a grassy plain. We pass over two hills, and Ramla looks back at her village. Then, slowly, she looks at us. “My people know that I am a seer. They want me to tell them what I see, but they do not listen. I know what you seek. The Great Tree gives life to all of Amara.” Ramla gestures to a gigantic tree with wide branches at the other end of the meadow. I know that we are not looking for a tree, but we don’t have any other option, and maybe there will be some kind of clue about where the shard is hidden. Silently, the three of us walk toward The Great Tree.

  When we arrive, I am struck by its size. I could see that the tree was large, but standing next to it is overwhelming. The trunk is so wide that if all three of us spread our arms around it, our fingertips would not touch. The roots are large and gnarled; to reach the trunk, one must climb the roots. The branches are full of lush green leaves that do not fall, even as a strong wind blows. This tree is certainly full of life, and it has certainly been here for a very long time, but this is not what we are looking for. I circle the tree in the hopes of finding some hint about the shard’s location, but I do not find good fortune. There is nothing.


  Ramla speaks. “What you seek is not The Great Tree itself, but what gave The Great Tree life.” I look at her. Does she know about The Cube? “Adanech taught me many things. She trusted my vision. She taught me to speak as you do. She told me that someday her people would come.”

  She begins to walk around the tree. Suddenly, Ramla is gone. I walk around the tree to see if she is standing behind it, but I don’t see her. We are on an open plain, so if she had run I would still be able to see her. I look around, unsure. David sees me and tears his attention away from the trunk of the tree. Now he realizes that we seem to be alone. He looks at me questioningly and says, “Where did—” but he is interrupted by Ramla’s voice.

  “I am here.”

  I spin in a circle trying to locate the voice, but still I do not see her. I hear her laugh. “Here.”

  I feel something thump on the ground near my feet and jump, startled to see a human hand. Ramla peeks her head out from below one of the gnarled roots. “Come,” she says, and her head disappears again. I look at David for reassurance, but find his expression tentative. I shrug. Then, I sit down and slide into the hollow, legs first.

  The opening itself is small, but I find that after I’ve passed through it, the space beneath is much larger. I slide down an incline made of dirt and stone and find myself standing next to Ramla in a hollow almost the size of the kitchen at my father’s house in Eligo, though the ceiling is only an arm’s length above our heads. A moment later, David squeezes through the opening and slides down to stand beside me.

  The hollow is dark, but my eyes adjust and I am able to see more detail of the room around me. The Great Tree is supported by an underground rock formation as well as thick roots grown deeply into the solid dirt walls. As I look up, I can see some of the smaller roots dangling down. I can touch the bottom of the tree’s root formation. As I move my hand along the roots in the center of the tree, a faint bluish glow begins to emanate from within them. I turn sharply to look at Ramla.