The Glass Mountains

by Cynthia Kadohata

  So Tarkahna and I decided we must leave.

  We dreamed of traveling out of the hotlands with anyone who might be leaving in the next couple of cycles, a thief or a saint, whoever was departing soonest. With the war, passage probably would be more difficult, and there was only one direction we could go in: to the east, toward Soom Kali, the Land of Knives. That was where Maruk had gone, and where I would now go. Within Soom Kali’s border lay a narrow strip of land much like Bakshami, dry and forlorn. Because this strip of land was sparsely populated, I thought it would be easy for me to walk through there and into Mallarr on the other side, and then on to Artroro. From there I would pay someone to fly me to Forma, where I would find my parents, assuming what the elder had told me was correct. Seeing all these people who’d come to the hotlands from all over the planet, and knowing they possessed the courage to make the trek here and leave again, I knew I could find the courage as well.

  Our departure came more quickly than we’d expected. We’d figured that with the war only a few people would be venturing forth. But living in the hotlands was like being trapped in a fire for many of the restless patrons of the elders, and fourteen sunrises after we’d decided to leave, a large group of people who desired Bakshami guides said they would leave with us. It didn’t matter that we’d never traveled in the section they planned to walk through. They just wanted a real Bakshami.

  Lokahn arranged for us to receive the promised jewels, though the sum turned out to be substantially less than promised. Apparently, no one ever took the elders up on this promise, so no one knew the truth. The truth was, there were far fewer jewels than the legends made one believe. Jobei, when he learned I would leave, mercilessly shunned me. So did Leisha, not because she was angry, but because she perceived that she and Jobei were a team now.

  Tarkahna and I would be traveling with a queen, though not the one whose heart had been broken. On the night we planned to leave, we slept outside together, since both of our families shunned us. Both families held me responsible for leading Tarkahna astray. But she had been glad to depart. Like me, she saw no future for herself in the hotlands.

  We sat up, too excited to sleep, and laughed over the practical jokes we would play, like collapsing the queen’s tent and training her dogs to obey only us. Like all Bakshami, Tarkahna and I had the idea, even knowing better, that there were two places in the world: Bakshami and outside Bakshami. Until we left Bakshami’s borders, everything would be the same. In the silence while we tried to fall asleep, however, we each retreated into our private fears.

  Not being able to sleep, we walked with our dogs to where Ansmeea now worked. The paths weren’t as crowded as they’d been the other night, but there were still a large number of people around. Many of them were the hard-core salooners, as they were called, and displayed weapons around their waists for all to see, and brought servants to carry the jewels with which they gambled in the saloons. Outside the saloon a small crowd had gathered around three frisky dogs, two males and one female, and someone was taking bets on which of the males would copulate with the female first.

  “Look at the Bakshami’s dog!” someone exclaimed, pointing at Artie.

  “I’ll bet you any amount that dog can beat out the other two.”

  “He doesn’t gamble,” I said. I planned to breed Artie as soon as I settled down. But this wasn’t the place.

  Inside the saloon where Ansmeea worked she was flirting with the person who’d called me hayseed my first day in the village.

  “Ansmeea,” I called.

  She reluctantly came over. “What are you doing out at this hour?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I’m leaving the hotlands tomorrow.”

  “I heard you were talking about it. Where are you going?”

  “Soom Kali to find Maruk. Then I’m going to find my parents. After that I’m going to breed with an Artroran muscleman and bear many strong children.”

  She gazed at the person she’d flirted with. “You’ll die before you get that far. Why not just breed with a fat man with lots of money? Aren’t you tired of walking?”

  “I’m tired of the sun. I want to go somewhere it rains. What do I need money for?”

  She stared at her dainty feet, shod in shiny black shoes such as I’d never seen. “These were a gift from him.”

  “That’s a man? Are you going to breed with him?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think I should?”

  “No, I don’t like him.”

  “I know, neither do I. And he doesn’t like me, either. I guess we’re just bored.”

  “Why don’t you come?”

  “It’s rumored that once Forma takes over for good, there’s going to be all manner of modernization going on here. People will be able to fly to the Glass Mountains instead of walking. So why leave when the world will soon come to me?” Ansmeea stretched and yawned. “I don’t mind being here when the Formans take over. I’d like to see this village modernized. Then I can have a hundred pairs of shoes like this.”

  “You don’t have a hundred feet.”

  She spoke in a sort of snarl. “You never understood anything but your own ways. I have to go.” She walked off to join her friend.

  Outside, the same crowd as before was trying to entice Artie to have a go at the female dog. “Hey,” one of them said when he saw me. “What do you want for your dog?”

  “He’s not for sale.” We walked off, with the crowd calling us names as we left. But we didn’t care. We were leaving!

  The next morning Jobei and Leisha were still asleep when I looked in on them. They looked so comfortable I thought about how nice it would be to lie down and miss my appointment with my traveling companions. Instead I kissed my brother and sister lightly on the lips and left a special present, one dried flower apiece laid down near their pillows, Jobei’s flower red and Leisha’s yellow. I’d found them in a garbage pail, but they were exquisite. I’d heard rumors of a garden of the elders, but I’d never seen it. I knew even if Jobei and Leisha were angry with me they would save their flowers until I returned.

  Artie gladly let me attach him to my sled full of supplies. He needed much space to roam, and the village had grown crowded. He trotted ahead, pausing every so often to make sure I still followed. The rising sun, shining pink through the mountains, painted the dust clouds above and the sand below, so that everything around me blushed faintly with promise.

  I waited out where the village met the mountains on the east side of town. The sleeping village appeared lovely lit by morning light, but for me the mystery and potential of the world lay elsewhere. I saw Tarkahn already awake and ready for a day of building—he and his wife had chosen a site for their new dwelling. They’d marked off an area about the size of their old one. I felt briefly wistful about the life Tarkahn and his wife would lead here, and about how different it was bound to be from mine. A few drunks wandered here and there, as well as a few people who were dressed up and carrying packages—no doubt full of jewels—on their way to appointments with the elders. The profusion of jewels in the hotlands made one wonder how they could hold their worth. But a lot of people took them quite seriously. Even I, not used to bartering with jewels, found myself eager for more and for both the protection and the danger I assumed they offered. Knowing my backpack and a package on Artie’s sled contained jewels made me feel alert, watchful for whatever spirits, fools, opportunities, and flukes such jewels might attract.

  I wondered exactly how many Bakshami had sought refuge in the hotlands. Out of twenty million Bakshami, not many had made it here. I hoped more had reached lakes and founded new settlements. We couldn’t be sure what was going on in the various sections of Bakshami. In the old days what went on in one section was pretty much what went on in every section.

  I did not think my country backward, but of course it was undeveloped in certain ways. But we possessed a highly developed sense of ritual and honor. Even for a Forman, some places and people must have been sacred and honored. Pe
rhaps our people had that in common.

  I remembered how my mother, ever practical, had told me that parents must always think of their children who are alive. My people, backward and impractical to the rest of the world, had always seemed—and still did seem—sensible to me. But our world had turned insensible. How could I think only of those of my compatriots who still lived when so many had died?

  Our traveling companions still hadn’t arrived as the sun began to turn yellow and its effects harsher. If they didn’t show up I wondered whether we would have the courage to leave by ourselves.

  Where were our companions? If they took much longer we’d lose all the coolest morning air. But finally I saw them, about fifty strong, a queen and her entourage. I was surprised to see that the queen’s servants pulled her in a carriage, and that only three dogs, two of them ornamental, accompanied the group. I saw that, unfortunately, this lady wasn’t open like the queen with the veils, the most graceful and tragic figure in the hotlands. Our queen had hidden herself in her carriage. We sat on a rock and watched the entourage. When they approached, a big pompous man in an ill-fitting robe hurried up to me. “Are you Mariska? Well, what are you waiting for?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, we were waiting for you.” My words and attitude were polite, but he found my honesty impudent. I felt irritated that they hadn’t prepared better for the trip. Their weapons wouldn’t help when they grew tired of pulling the queen.

  “You’re sassy,” said another. “But it’s too late now. You’ll come around. Let’s go. We’re late.” He handed me a package. “You carry this, and be careful with it. It contains the queen’s towels.” To Tarkahna he gave a package he said contained ornaments for the queen’s tents.

  We set off between the mountains. Luckily, dust filled the sky directly overhead, blocking the sun somewhat as it rose. Nobody talked to me as we walked. In fact, the others seemed to make a point of walking apart from me. Many of the queen’s entourage bulged with muscles, and one man pulled a load as heavy as Artie’s. But none of them moved as well as Artie and me, and by midday my dog and I had pulled ahead. Tarkahna chose to stick closer to the others. It was hard to believe that if I walked out there in the hot sun, every day, I would eventually walk through Soom Kali and Mallarr and into Artroro, where I would lie basking in the sun instead of pulling my hood tight to protect myself from its rays. I felt well rested and well prepared for this journey.

  Slightly after midday I heard calls, and when I turned around the man who’d first spoken to me earlier waved and yelled my name. I didn’t want to walk all that way back, but decided it best to cooperate for the first few days, so I returned to him.

  “You’re a servant guide, not a servant scout. From now on you are to walk to our side, fifty measures to our left.”

  A servant! “My father was a mayor,” I said. He rested his hand on a weapon at his side, and several others smiled at each other. “I demand to talk to the queen,” I said, and everyone laughed heartily.

  “Even I have never seen the queen. Get on with you. Fifty measures to our side.” He and his cohorts took a threatening step forward, and Artie growled. To walk fifty measures would have meant going up a hill, but I cooperated. Tarkahna, who I could see had already become their pet, walked in their group.

  “Come on, Artie,” I said. We moved to the side and walked there for a few minutes, until someone called for a lunch break. Then I sat way to the side, sharing some dried meat with Artie while the others dined on fruit and breads.

  This went on for days. I sat, slept, and walked far to the side, and assented when asked to do small ridiculous chores like braiding the favorite dog’s hair and picking up skeletons if I saw them so as not to upset the invisible queen.

  Having always grown up with my family bustling around me, it was a revelation to discover how easily I fit into the role of loner. And I didn’t complain when we spent twice as much time getting through the mountains as my people had on the way in. Even on the plains, the folly of the queen’s entourage managed to slow us down. Each night while they spent an hour pitching spacious tents for the queen and her top aides, Artie and I sat alone eating, facing east toward our futures and only occasionally glancing to our sides to see the others struggling in the wind with their unwieldy tents. And they wondered why I possessed so much more energy than they. They thought me an animal because I never seemed to get tired. No doubt they also thought me a fool for playing the rhythms every night on small drums I’d gotten in the hotlands.

  And yet even a loner likes something to feel disengaged from. So, much as I hated to admit it, the reason I occasionally glanced to my side was not to see what simpletons they were but to make sure they still walked beside me, and that I wasn’t alone out there in the sweeping plains that could engulf me in an instant, eventually leaving in my place a small skeleton that would someday degenerate into sand.

  Part Four

  1

  Though I never once saw the queen, every day as I walked I dreamt of escaping her and facing the trek by myself. Tarkahna was no longer speaking to me, so infatuated was she with the queen’s pantywaists.

  The more energy the queen’s deputies saw I had, the more they gave me to carry, until finally I was their equal in fatigue each night. But the next day they would give me still more to carry. I already hauled the queen’s towels, her perfumes, her hairpieces, and her best jackets. I carried them without complaint. When the entourage needed advice, I gave it. When no one asked for advice, I didn’t speak. Even though I was a loner, I was too scared to go off completely by myself.

  As we neared the boundary between Soom Kali and Bakshami—the landscape on one side of the border looking exactly the same as on the other—we saw the first people we’d seen since our departure. They stood outside a sand-colored stone building on which huge animals had been carved. There were several other buildings, these shaped like animals, as well as a building under construction. I’d never seen any Soom Kali before. Everything about them, from their clothes to their hair to their demeanor, seemed to be a manifestation of their strength. Their hair was as heavy as ropes and tied behind their heads, or cut short to show the shapes of their perfect heads. Rather than wear the loose flowing robes of my people, they wore matching trousers and shirts, with metallic insignias all around the collars. Their stretchy, uncomplicated outfits were designed for traveling with speed and power, just as Bakshami garb was meant for traveling with ease and grace. And the Soom Kali were tall and held themselves straight. The shortest one was as tall as my father, an unusually tall man. It wasn’t just strength they exuded, but vigor. There was one woman whose face almost glowed with her power. Even knowing what barbarians they were said to be, I couldn’t help but look upon them admiringly. Their strength had built an imposing outpost in the desert in one of the hottest areas of the planet. Forma, too, built outposts at its desert borders, but that sector used its servant class to do all the hardest work. The Soom Kali were famous for doing for themselves, and taking pride in what they did. They allowed almost no one to pass through their borders except people going to and from the hotlands. Anyone who joined their sector had to go through a lengthy period of integration, during which they were taught to be warriors.

  A dog-faced man, with a long nose and furry face, seemed to be in immediate charge, but he also seemed to be trying to impress an enormous woman with her own entourage. He came forward and spoke with one of the queen’s deputies, who then motioned us all together while the Soom Kali man walked away. From what I could overhear, the Soom Kali language was similar to Artroran—an irony since the two sectors had fought many bitter wars.

  “That gentleman would like to talk to you one by one. It’s just a formality, as our warrants are in order,” said the queen’s deputy. “Here are a couple of rules I learned from passing this way before. Never talk louder than your questioner. The Soom Kali don’t like that. And keep in mind, among these barbarians the penalty for a foreigner telling a lie may be death if
the one to whom you lie is in a foul mood.”

  The dog-faced man questioned the servants one by one. When I neared the front of the line I could hear the type of inquiries he made. What is your name? Do you have currency or jewels with you? What are your allegiances? But I couldn’t hear the answers. The interviews passed quickly. The man asked some of the servants only one or two questions. When he got to Tarkahna, though, he asked so many questions I thought my turn would never come.

  When my turn finally arrived, he asked me to take off my hood. He scrutinized me. “It’s rare to see a Bakshami servant.”

  “Yes, sir, though I’m not a servant, except a servant of expediency.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Mariska Ba Mirada.”

  “Do you have any money with you?”

  I stupidly hesitated, but said, “No.” It seemed astonishing to me that after a life of never having or using money I now found myself willing to risk death for my jewels. I feared he might take them. I felt dizzy and hot.

  “What are your allegiances?”

  “To my dog and my family.”

  “What else?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I said what else. Please listen carefully as I’m growing bored.”

  “Well, of course I have an allegiance to Bakshami, though much of my sector has been destroyed by Forma.”

  “What makes you think I’m interested in your life story? What did you say were your allegiances?”

  “My dog and my family, and Bakshami, of course.”

  “Where is your family?”

  “I have a brother and sister in the hotlands, and parents in despair in Forma. I have a brother I adore living I know not where.”