by A. R. Cook
She looked up at him in surprise. The past few days, Katawa had barely spoken to her, and now she was taken aback by his willingness to speak first. “What sage?”
“The one who made you Hijn.”
Her heart cringed. “I’d rather not,” she replied. Her ears twitched twice.
“It was the Moon Dragoness, was it not?”
She was paralyzed by this remark. It took her a while to regain motion. “How did you…?”
Katawa tapped the spot between his eyebrows. “You have the mark of the moon.”
Desert Rain covered her moonstone with her hand. “Oh, yeah,” she said, feeling lame.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. I know about the markings from Hij-Urawran. As a child, I took it upon myself to gain knowledge, particularly about the Ancient Magic of the Salamandrian Sages. My brother didn’t like me learning about the ways of our enemies. That was probably one reason why he didn’t feel too horrible about trying to destroy me.”
Desert Rain waded out of the water, and sat down next to Katawa. “Your own brother tried to kill you? Why?”
“The whole Court of Darkscale played a role. The hunters captured me, and the rest of the court tortured me and threw my body into the pyre.”
This all hit Desert Rain like a steel-plated knuckle. She recalled what she had seen in Katawa’s memories, all the hideous faces screaming, the blood and the pyre.
Katawa exhaled in a sigh. “They believed nothing can come back from the pyre. But Fate decided to look somewhat kindly on me…although once I awoke, I wished I were dead.”
“How did you survive that?”
“Like I said, Fate.”
“Why did they do such a horrible thing to you? To one of their own?”
Katawa shifted sand through his fingers. The sand morphed into purple ooze. “Because of my gift.”
Deesert Rain observed the purple puddle Katawa had made. “The distortion thing?”
“Yes. None of the others were born with it. They looked at it as a deformity on my part. The Darkscale do not tolerate deformities. They would have killed me at birth had they known from the start. But I took time to develop my gift in secret.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Did you not wish to know?”
Desert Rain paused, and nodded. “I’m sorry for all that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but still…all that pain and torture, because you were…”
“Different.”
Desert Rain tugged at one of her ears. Maybe it was dumb to trust him, but they were alike in so many ways.
“Tell me about this Sage of yours,” Katawa requested a second time.
Desert Rain thought for a moment, and then decided that it was fair to tell since he had told her something personal. “I met her when I was about nine. My family was a group of traveling artists, and every year we would come to Ulomin for the Banishing Festival. One year I got in an argument with my parents and ran off into the desert. I can’t even remember what I was so mad about anymore. I guess I ran farther than I expected, because eventually I found these ruins in the middle of nowhere. I was going to sit down in the shade of one of the pillars, but I fell through a hole in the sand and landed in a chamber below. Once the dust settled, I saw an old woman. She asked me to get her a drink of water from the nearby well, so I went and brought her back a full bucket of water. I let her drink first before I took a drink. I guess that was her way of finding out if I was a good person.
“I stayed there talking with her for hours. She was very witty, and very wise. She told me wonderful stories, and taught me things about the world I don’t think anyone else could possibly know. It occurred to me that she must have been alone in that chamber for quite some time, and what she knew about the outside world stretched back to even before the Great Manifestation. From then on, anytime my family traveled to Ulomin, I would find time to sneak away at night to go visit her. When I was old enough to take short trips on my own, I would borrow one of the family wagons’ horses and go to see her as often as I could. I started calling her Grandma Luna. I never told anyone else about her.”
“When did you find out Granny Luna was a Sage?” Katawa inquired.
“Her full name was Bellaluna of the Blueshine. She told me her name when she showed me
her true form. That was before she…” Desert Rain stared off into space. “That was the last test. She wanted to know if I would still love and respect her the way I always did, even after I knew the truth. She was so beautiful in true form. She had such vibrant green eyes…”
“Like your left one?” Katawa asked.
“Yes…” Desert Rain touched the corner of her green eye. “One of the many traits I inherited from her.”
“You also inherited the temple, I see.”
Desert Rain sighed. “I feel like it’s right to live there. If her spirit is truly inside me, then she would like to stay at the home she always knew. The tunnels and smaller rooms are my work, but the front room was where we used to spend time.”
“To think, you were probably the first person to fall down that hole in centuries, given the state of the ruins. You were in the right place at the right time.”
“What do you mean?”
Katawa leaned back. “Well, if someone else had fallen in, you wouldn’t have met Granny Luna and you wouldn’t be Hijn right now, would you?”
“No, I suppose not.” Desert Rain gently rubbed the moonstone on her forehead. “Not like that would have been such a tragedy. Someone else might actually know what to do
with Bellaluna’s gift.”
Katawa had come to learn that there was not much to say when it came to Desert Rain regretting what she was. “It’s been some time since she passed away, I gather. And here you’ve
been for decades, and will be for centuries. I would find that kind of prolonged life dreadfully boring.”
“I thought the Wretched lived for a long time as well.”
“That depends. A special Darkscale might be able to live for centuries if he could get someone like an elf to give away his soul.”
Desert Rain was quiet for a moment. There had always been rumors about the Wretched being soul-drinkers, but she had thought them as old wives’ tales. “Wretched can steal souls?”
“Not steal. Accept. That is, if one wishes to give their essence away. It has to be willingly. But I don’t see why immortality is such a desire for mortals. It would be so one could further educate his own soul, so it seems pointless for me, not having one.”
“That’s silly. If you didn’t have a soul, you wouldn’t be alive right now.”
“Many people can live without souls, Desert Rain. They have no passions or dreams. You’d be surprised by how many live without souls.”
“You have no passions, then? Or dreams?”
Katawa smiled. “Perhaps I can live them out through someone else.”
He motioned his hand towards hers, but she was the one to place her hand on top of his.
A dry storm captured the Golden Dragon Desert that night. Savage winds blew the sands up into a screen of grainy smoke, creating whirls and small cyclones. Lightening blazed in the heavens, and thunder cracked the stillness. Every creature that lived in the desert took refuge from the sting of the flying sands. Desert Rain covered the main entrance of her home with a heavy tarp of wool, and immediately gathered her things to sleep in the lower burrows.
Katawa was watching the storm through one of the sun holes in the hallway. He saw Desert Rain shuffle by with a blanket and a lantern. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t sleep up here during a storm. Too noisy.”
“Come and watch it with me for a while. It’s fascinating.” When she shook her head and turned to go, he took her by the arm. “Watch it with me.”
“Katawa, I don’t like—”
He began to draw her along with him. “There’s beauty in it. An artist such as you s
houldn’t miss out on it.”
Desert Rain allowed him to pull her along a ways, although her body leaned back. When they began to ascend to the front stairs, thunder shredded the air. The lightning that flashed through her sun holes reminded her of evil eyes blinking. She tried to wrench her arm back. “No, no! Katawa, let go of me!”
Katawa continued to pull her along, his grip unyielding. She struggled wildly, to no avail. He dragged her upwards, drew back the tarp and sat down on the top step, pulling Desert Rain down to sit on his lap. He held her tightly as she squirmed and demanded to be released.
“Desert Rain, look.”
She stopped struggling, mainly because she had worn herself out, and cautiously looked up. The sands were draped in a silver sheen, the sky shrouded in a murky violet, and the lightning that pulsated across the clouds was the purest white she had ever seen. The thunder roared mightily, and she buried her face in Katawa’s shoulder. Her ears shivered, and Katawa stroked them soothingly.
“It’s all right. It’s merely noise.” He loosened his hold when he felt that she would not run away. Eventually she looked up again, taking in the spins and shapes of the storm. As the thunder rolled, she imagined the booming beat of brass drums, and discovered the music within it. The lightning formed amazing shadows over the dunes in the distance, stirring the colors. The beating of her heart slowed, as intrigue replaced terror. She relaxed her rigid body.
“It’s strange,” she sighed. “I’ve never seen the desert this way. It’s so…beautiful.”
“It’s different.” Katawa lightly brushed her hair with his fingers. “It’s only different.”
CHAPTER TEN
Truth Breaks Loose
“Tell me more about Bellaluna.”
Desert Rain looked up from her dinner of desert quail. She had started eating certain meats a while after the night of the dry storm, and had taken a liking to it. In fact, she was starting to try all new sorts of food that Katawa brought home. Meat unfortunately filled her up quickly, and it shortened the time of actually enjoying the food.
“There isn’t much more to tell,” Desert Rain replied.
“I’m interested in what it was she passed down to you. In all the time I’ve been here, I haven’t once seen you use a bit of magic. Shouldn’t Granny Luna have given you some?”
“I don’t use it.”
“Didn’t she have any useful spells?”
“She was capable of great things. I’m not.”
Katawa swirled a finger around in his goblet of mead. “Pity. One shouldn’t let such power go to waste.”
“I don’t want that kind of responsibility. And I really don’t want to talk about…” Desert Rain slid her plate away and rested her forehead in her hand.
The Distortionist went over to her, placing a comforting hand on her head. “You put too much pressure on yourself.”
“I figure, why do I need magic? I can get along fine without it. I mean, I didn’t need magic to help you get better, right?”
“Yes. Such a tender heart.” Katawa went about clearing the table.
“It’s funny. I don’t think I would have ever talked about Bellaluna with anyone else,” Desert Rain admitted.
“Why?”
“You know…I’ve always thought that I’d keep these things secret. But it’s actually nice to talk to someone about these things. I feel comfortable talking to you. It’s odd. I mean, it’s been ages since I’ve been with a—” She cut herself off.
Katawa made a small grin. “With a man? Yes, I could tell. But I find it hard to believe that there hasn’t ever been anyone. Not even little romantic flings?”
“I would be lying to say there weren’t. But it has been a long, long, long time.” She pulled nervously on her fingers. “And I never felt right about it. I am never really alone…in this body. She’s in here with me. I subject her to my urges, my feelings. It’s not fair to her…”
Katawa gave her a pointed look. “She should be fair to you. It’s your life, not hers. Do you think she really wants to keep you from feeling what you want to feel?”
“No, of course not. But I…I’m not always quite sure what I’m feeling myself.” Desert Rain stared down at her hands. “Something can feel right, even wonderful, but that doesn’t make it so.”
Katawa placed his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to look at him. “Desert Rain, I know how you see me. I know what I am. Your heart may not work the same as mine. There are so many things I wish to share with you, to teach you. But I won’t make you learn anything you do not wish to know. I can’t make you. I would never wish to ruin you.” He took her hand and held it, a sad smile on his face. He then got up and walked out of the room.
Desert Rain walked to her bedroom to take some time to think. So many thoughts rang in her head that she could not think straight. She glanced over at her bedside table, and saw the deep violet rose that Katawa had given her. The fragrance that had disconcerted her now seemed soothing—she supposed that she had finally gotten used to it. She picked it up and twirled the rose in her fingers, and thought for the briefest second that she heard a faint sound, a faint word in an unknown voice. She did not understand it, but it tugged at her mind. It beckoned her, and Desert Rain found herself rising to her feet, walking down the hall and going down towards Katawa’s room.
Katawa sat on his bed, shrouded in the shadows of his room, the dim glow from his bedside candle offering nearly no light or warmth. He watched as Desert Rain entered, as if he had been waiting for her. She sat down on his bed cushions next to him. Desert Rain stared down at the rose that was still in her hand. She opened her mouth to speak, and found a total lack of words. Panic emerged in her as the gap of silence lengthened, and as Katawa continued to stare at her.
“I…I…” She cleared her throat, and took a deep breath. “I was thinking. In my room. About what you said.” The next thing she knew, tears were streaming down her face.
“Dez, why are you crying?” Katawa wiped her tears away with a soft touch.
“I don’t know,” Desert Rain rubbed her eyes angrily. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Katawa held her close, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Calm down, calm down. It’s all right.” He placed his hand on her back and filled her with that soothing warmth. “Do you trust me, Desert Rain?”
She was quiet for a moment. She nodded.
He caressed her hair. He placed his hand on hers, the one holding the rose. “And you
would give your love, your self, to me willingly?”
His hand closed tightly around hers, pressing the palm of her hand into the stem of the rose. She could feel the tiny thorns nip at her skin. Then she heard that strange voice again, the one she could not understand or even be sure really existed. The rose fragrance became more potent suddenly, nearly overwhelming. Somehow—perhaps it was a mistake of the eye
in the faint candlelight—the edges of the petals appeared to glow a dim crimson red. Desert Rain was mesmerized by it for a mere moment, but that was all it took for her reply to escape her
lips, unbeknownst to her: “Yes.”
There was a quick sharp pain in the palm of her hand. Desert Rain dropped the rose, and looked down to see the bite from the thorns in her hand. Tiny red beads of blood formed on her skin. She was not quite sure how it had happened; she must have unconsciously squeezed the stem too tightly. Katawa took her pricked hand, gently wiped the blood away with his thumb, and kissed it. Desert Rain gazed into his eyes, which seemed to glow a passionate shade of gold. She forgot about the pain in her hand. She gave him a timid kiss, which deepened the longer he held her.
It had been so long since she had felt this way, she was overpowered by the sudden sensation of joy in her heart, and did not even notice the gradual draining of her energy until she was delightfully dreaming in his arms.
***
Desert Rain awoke the next morning in a state of bliss she had never known. It was dark, but she cou
ld tell from the touch of cushions beneath her that she was back in her own bedroom. She reached an arm out, and found the no one was there with her.
She arose and made her way to the hall. The light that streaked in through the sun holes was bright, indicating it was late morning by now. She checked each room, finding them empty. Jubis greeted her joyfully, which he had not done in a while; he had been absent since Katawa had taken on his current form. Desert Rain entered the kitchen, well aware she would not find him there, but instead leaned on the table. She thought about how she had known this was inevitably going to happen, that he would leave—they always left, they had to. Yet her long fingers coiled in tightly as a new emotion began to prick the back of her neck. It was strange that she had lived for such a long time, and yet anger had rarely, if ever, infiltrated her being, seeped into her blood. She normally got very quiet or cried rather than lose her temper, but now the thread of ferocity sewed itself into her lip, curling it upwards, and she suddenly found herself picking up one of the obsidian plates and chucking it across the room with a furious screech, smashing it against the wall.
She stared wide-eyed at the jagged bits on the floor. Jubis folded back his ears and whimpered softly. She slowly approached the sharp mess, flicking a toe at a black shard. She half-believed that she had not rendered the plate in this condition, that some sort of negative persona had seized her. But she had destroyed something, and oddly enough, it relaxed her a bit.
“Feel better?”
Desert Rain turned sharply towards the kitchen doorway. Katawa wore a white traveling jacket with pale blue designs, and a rabbit-skin pouch hung from his waist by a cord. From the looks of it, the pouch was fairly full. He leaned on the frame of the doorway, smirking at Desert Rain.
Desert Rain’s eyes brightened. She pulled her frizzy hair away from her face. “You made me a bit…worried.”
