The Bridge Beyond Her World (The Boy and the Beast Book 2)

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The Bridge Beyond Her World (The Boy and the Beast Book 2) Page 20

by Brandon Barr


  As long as you have signed contracts with your farmers, you can mete out justice however you deem fit.

  The signed letter, and the basket of heads we sent to Karience may drive her to do more foolishness. Let us watch and wait.

  Your affectionate sister,

  -Queen Taia

  (letter to her brother, Baron Rhaudius)

  CHAPTER 28

  WINTER

  Laughter spilled through the recreation room. The entire scene felt surreal with all the Guardians there—even Karience and Nephitus. The entire group sat on a long cushioned sofa curved into a semi-circle. Zoecara had tried to entice everyone into sharing a story about their first kiss and their…first time. Winter had had no idea what that last phrase meant until the VOKK slowly brought the innuendo into her mind. Winter became immediately uncomfortable as she came to understand the crude request.

  Hark’s first kiss story had confused Winter. It quickly became clear that the traditions of the farmers were very different than other worlds’ cultures. First Kiss on the farmland was part of the nuptials proceeding being mated. But clearly, that tradition did not exist elsewhere, for Hark’s first kiss was a literal first kiss with no promise of being bound to the other. He didn’t give many details, only that he was ten, and that the girl had surprised him with the kiss—which he promptly wiped from his lips.

  Winter had smirked, thinking back to the time she was five or six, and was pretending she was in nuptials with a boy from plot two. He was by himself, looking for bugs or something when she’d told him to stand up. The moment he did, she kissed him quickly on the lips. She never did get his name, but he’d wrinkled his nose and glared at her as if she’d poked him with a sewing needle. Not so dissimilar from Hark’s first kiss.

  Zoecara had prodded Hark to tell his first time story, but he had rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll pass.”

  “You go, Daeymara!” said Zoecara with enthusiasm. “Yours is hilarious!”

  Daeymara held a very serious look. “Not tonight.”

  “What?” exclaimed Zoecara. “Why not? You’ve told worse stories before.”

  Winter noticed Daeymara’s eyes flash briefly in her direction—just to her left, at Aven.

  “I’ll pass this time,” she said, sweeping her hair behind her ear.

  Zoecara jumped in and told her story next. She was from an upworld, and unlike the farm people who had families, on Zoecara’s world, one simply mated at will with anyone, and with no expectation to stay together longer than the night. She said she couldn’t remember her first kiss, but her first time story was uncomfortably detailed. She had no qualms saying exactly what her lover’s mouth was doing, and which part of her his hands were touching. Winter wanted to shrink from the room. Fortunately, the lurid descriptions ended when her lover got angry at a barking dog outside the window of the abandoned building they were in. He’d tried to throw a half empty bottle of ale at the animal, but being intoxicated, his throw went high, and shards of glass had rained down over Zoecara’s bosom, along with half a pint of ale. Winter couldn’t understand why Zoecara would ever share such an experience out loud. It was so filthy and cheap.

  When Zoecara finished, Winter found herself off balance as she tried to understand the culture of an upworld. On the farm, Zoecara would have belonged in the Baron’s harem.

  “Now come on,” said Zoecara, baring her teeth. “I dare someone to try and top that!”

  Winter furrowed her eyebrows. If Zoecara really suspected her and Aven of being Shadowmen, then she was very good at not showing it. So spirited, as if she held no concern.

  Winter recalled Zoecara’s words about Pike when she and Aven first arrived. She had promised not to forget who Pike really was. His history. Had that been an act?

  Suddenly, Zoecara’s eyes were on her and Winter looked away. She felt her face burning and hoped the dim lights hid the flush of red on her cheeks.

  The laughter had died down. Hark’s mate entered the rec room holding their youngest child. The woman came up behind him, caressed the side of his face then whispered something in his ear.

  Hark nodded. “The Dolphin Moon is four days away. Akexi is wondering what wine to buy for this year’s swim.”

  “The sape wine from Kyrnae’s vineyards,” said Rueik. “The princess may be opposed to our presence, but her winepress makes a fine glass of chardonnay!”

  Karience stood. “I’m retiring for the evening. Thank you, all, for your stories and entertainment tonight.” She walked a few paces, then turned to face everyone. “As to the Dolphin Moon festivity, the only thing I request is the presence of soldiers this year.”

  “Are you going?” asked Nephitus.

  “Not after losing three Emissaries,” said Karience. “I think after what has happened so far this year, we should be more cautious. I think it prudent that not all of us are in the same place unless it is within the confines of this building or the portal overlook, inside the protected zone.”

  Nephitus came beside Karience. “I’d advise the same. A contingent of soldiers should be present.”

  Karience nodded to Hark. “See that the guards are informed.”

  “I will, Empyrean.”

  “As for tonight, I have duties. I bid you goodnight.”

  Karience and Nephitus left the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence.

  Winter was surprised to hear her brother speak first. “Do Missionaries always have so much free time?” asked Aven. “The Warden and the Empyrean always seem busy, but…what kind of schedule do you have?”

  “We do have a lot of time on our hands,” said Hark. “That’s because we’re in training for twenty months here on Loam, and our training has mostly ended—except for Arentiss, she’s the newest. Been here ten months, but she’s so damn smart, she’s nearly completed the training phase.”

  Winter noticed Arentiss’s expressionless face give way to a small glint of pride.

  “The Guardians have this tradition,” said Rueik. “They allow their Missionaries several months of freedom before they are sent on their mission. A good tradition, if I may say so.”

  “What is the Dolphin Moon?” asked Winter.

  Zoecara spoke first. “It is the night when the moon’s orbit comes closest to Loam. The Missionaries go down to the beach at midnight, when the moon is directly overhead. It’s become tradition here at the enclave. We swim with the dolphin pods that gather beyond the breakers. It’s quite thrilling to see their bodies in the moonlight. There are thousands of them that gather here at these beaches.”

  “If you are lucky,” said Daeymara, “you may even get to ride one of the creatures.”

  “What does a dolphin look like?” asked Winter.

  “You don’t know?” said Hark.

  Winter looked at Aven, who shrugged and shook his head.

  “Do you know, Pike?” asked Zoecara.

  A toothy grin spread across his face. “I’m hoping its some kind of…friendly fish?”

  The Missionaries looked about ready to explode with laughter. All but one.

  “A dolphin breathes air, and is a mammal, having lungs and no gills,” said Arentiss, breaking her silence. “They do look a lot like fish, but they are large. Almost twice the size of Hark.”

  “Leave it to you, Arentiss,” said Rueik. “We could have told them it was a furry octopus or something.”

  “We shouldn’t tease them too much,” said Arentiss. “They could probably embarrass all of us over our lack of farming knowledge.”

  “I heard a rumor,” said Zoecara, “that one of our Emissaries bought a farm.”

  Zoecara’s head turned toward Winter and her brother. A curious smile edged her lips.

  “The rumor is true,” said Aven.

  Winter could hear the pride in his voice.

  “Where we come from,” continued Aven, “owning your own farm is the greatest achievement one could attain, beyond raising a family. Our farm on Baron Rhaudius’s land was not ours. We were little m
ore than slaves, and none of us had any chance of escaping our fates. But tomorrow evening, I will receive a certificate of ownership. I will have my own farm.”

  “I can only imagine how it must feel, buying your own land,” said Hark.

  “Where is your new farm?” asked Rueik.

  “North of here,” said Aven, “about an hour’s walk. Where the rolling hills start to form below the mountains.”

  “The Green Dune Territory,” said Arentiss. “It is an aesthetically pleasant property.”

  “Beautiful, you mean,” said Rueik, and winked at Arentiss.

  “We will all have to visit you, Aven,” said Daeymara. “On my homeworld, it would be customary for your friends to throw you a party.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” said Zoecara.

  Winter was about to send Aven a finger message, but he spoke first.

  “If anyone wants to join me tomorrow evening, you’re welcome to come. And you can behold the certificate for yourself!”

  Winter squeezed his hand. Her brother’s voice had never sounded so full of joy and confidence. It reminded her of their father. How he spoke when he purchased a new tool from the blacksmith. But this was far grander!

  “Let’s all go tomorrow,” said Hark. “We can pack food from the kitchen.”

  “Yes,” said Rueik. “I’ll get a few bottles of wine and a pie from the bakery. Who is coming?”

  Winter stuffed down her annoyance as every person chimed in that they wanted to go. It appeared everyone would be joining them. She had pictured tomorrow evening much differently. Just her and Aven.

  As long as Aven was happy, though, she could allow for company. She gave one last look at Zoecara and found the girl’s dusty brown eyes waiting for her. Winter held her gaze.

  Zoecara smiled sweetly.

  Winter didn’t know what else to do but return the smile, then look away. Was Rueik being irrational? Was he overreacting somehow? Or was Zoecara hiding her suspicions behind an incredibly composed mask?

  _____

  PIKE

  Pike followed behind Aven, Winter, and Arentiss. His palms were sweating. He’d been waiting for the right opportunity to get Aven alone, to talk with him, but there were always others around, and the last thing he wanted to do was come across as awkward.

  He pictured cutting into a conversation and saying, “Hey, Aven,” with a prepubescent squeal. “Can we talk?”

  No, that would not do.

  He waited, walking close behind them, as if trying to be part of their group.

  Winter suddenly turned her head toward him. “Why are you following us? Your room’s back that way,” she said, gesturing with her eyes.

  “I was hoping to talk to Aven,” said Pike, and was relieved to find no awkward notes in his words.

  “Sure,” said Aven. “Let’s talk. Goodnight, girls.”

  Winter’s eyes narrowed, and she stared at her brother.

  “Goodnight,” Aven said again.

  Winter held a concerned look, then turned abruptly and went with Arentiss down the hall. What was that about? wondered Pike.

  “So what’s going on?” asked Aven.

  Pike was relieved to find no trace of disdain in Aven’s voice.

  “I just wanted to apologize,” began Pike. “For making that joke back at your hovel. It sounded funny in my head, but once I said it, I saw the look in your eyes, and knew I should have kept it in.”

  Aven’s jaw tightened, then he shook his head. “It’s alright. I should have responded better. I’ve been on edge lately. All of this,” he looked up at the ceiling, “I feel out of place here and it’s affecting my mood.”

  “I feel out of place, as well,” said Pike, “and that’s another reason I wanted to talk. We’ve grown up together—I mean, way back, we were friends as kids, and I feel, in a way, like our being here together is…I guess I’m trying to say, I feel like I need a friend here. Like you said, you feel out of place, too. But you and Winter have each other and I’m just feeling alone, I guess.”

  Pike felt something wet roll down his cheek. Great! Crying like a newborn in front him.

  “I understand,” said Aven. There was a reticence in his tone, but he smiled. “I remember us as kids. With Red and Riverstone, and Toes. Remember Toes?”

  “Of course I remember Toes,” said Pike excitedly, his memories coming alive. “Always at the top of a tree, and we would shout up at him that he should have been named Squirrel.”

  Aven nodded, but his expression had grown serious again. He stuck out his hand, and Pike reached out and took it. The look in Aven’s eyes was like a storm. Pike suddenly realized there was more to Aven’s past than he knew, and that Aven must be going through something difficult, something beyond what he himself was dealing with.

  “Those are good stories and good times,” said Aven. “We’ll have to make time to share them more often. Perhaps we can rekindle that old friendship.”

  “I’d like that very much,” said Pike as Aven let go of his hand. “You might even help me remember some things I’ve forgotten. Things not long ago. I haven’t told this to anyone but…my head hasn’t felt right. I can’t remember things. Not unless they were from my childhood. A lot of my recent memories are fuzzy, up until I came here, to the Guardians.”

  “Sometimes the past is better forgotten,” said Aven.

  “But not Harvest…not my mother. Father…I really miss…I mean, I…”

  Pike gripped his hair in his hands. It was happening now. That dull feeling of…

  “I’m sorry,” said Pike. “What was I just saying?”

  Aven’s mouth opened, but held silent.

  “We were just talking about Toes,” said Pike, “and the other kids, but I started to say something else. At least, I think so.”

  “About the future,” said Aven. “Forgetting the past. Looking forward to the future.”

  Pike nodded. “The future. Yes, that’s right.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” said Aven.

  “Alright,” said Pike. “Goodnight. And thank you. Thank you for understanding.”

  ______

  ZOECARA

  The midnight hour was fast approaching

  Zoecara had to hurry, but couldn’t run, lest she break into a sweat even on this cool summer night. There were two important rendezvous she had to make tonight, both unplanned.

  The enclave’s little trip to Aven’s farm was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. The sooner the she rid Loam of the Guardians, the better. More specifically, the sooner she got rid of Rueik, the better. He had become dangerous. If he voiced his concerns to Karience, there was no telling what might happen, for the Empyrean had grown deeply suspicious ever since the murders.

  But murdering the Emissaries was a risk her master had wanted her to take. Her master, Raith, had other Shadowmen in place within the Guardian order on other worlds, including Bridge, but he was being cautious. He had warned her there were other Beasts trying to infiltrate the Guardians. Naturally there would be, but her master had such a strong foothold, she doubted any rivals would last long undetected.

  The stone alleyway leading to Dheeg Sar’s ice shop was lit by moonlight, the huge rolling door glinting brightly.

  Zoecara pounded loudly on the frosty metal plates kept cold by the ice inside. “Dheeg Sar, open up!”

  She disliked having to trust these mercenaries. Their greed was easy enough to manipulate, but no matter what, she had to rely on them coming through on their part of the bargain.

  She pounded again and waited. Finally a clank sounded, and the metal door slid open on a crude track. The opening was large enough for the massive ice blocks gathered from the mountains and the horse teams who hauled them, but Dheeg Sar opened it only a crack.

  “You have a corpse to freeze?” came the voice from within.

  “It’s Zoecara.”

  The door opened a hair more, enough for her to slip inside where only darkness met her.

 
“What if I told you I could get you six or seven VOKKs,” she said into the cold blackness.

  “Speak on,” came Dheeg Sar’s voice very near her.

  “Could your ship come tomorrow night?”

  “It’s hiding on the far side of the moon. They could arrive tomorrow if I signal them now.”

  “Do you have a tracker I could wear?”

  “Yes,” said the voice, moving closer, becoming a dark grey shadow touched faintly by the glow emanating from the slit in the door. Dheeg Sar’s face was like a ghost.

  She glanced outside, her thoughts turning to her next game piece to move.

  “Signal the ship and give me the tracker. Tomorrow evening, at nightfall, I’ll have the Guardians with me. They’ll all be yours.”

  ______

  AVEN

  Aven couldn’t sleep. He had to talk to Pike.

  He dressed quickly and left the room. He’d lain in bed for an hour, partially consumed with the exciting promise of tomorrow. The farm would be his, and his friends were coming to celebrate. But Rueik’s warnings about Zoecara disturbed him. Rueik’s fear that Pike’s mind had been tampered with by Zoecara—it seemed irrational. What might she try to do to them if she truly thought him and his sister were Shadowmen? What was Rueik hinting at but wouldn’t say?

  The lighted hallway made Aven’s own fears seem irrational. In his bed, with the lights off, things had seemed more distressing and urgent. Aven stopped and leaned against the wall. Pike’s room was around the corner.

  What would he say? Pike was likely asleep. Aven would have to explain himself. He’d have to tell Pike something to justify waking him in the middle of the night.

  Aven stared at the wall opposite him.

  How easily suspicion became fear, and fear, paranoia.

  What was he doing?

  The faint swoosh of a door opening and closing sounded from around the bend in the hallway. The sound startled him. What if someone came around the corner? He couldn’t be just leaning there against the wall in the middle of the night.

  Aven instantly sprang off the wall and began to walk back toward his room. He checked over his shoulder, expecting to see Pike, or someone else, but the hallway was empty.

 

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