Two Moons of Sera

by Tyler, Pavarti K.

  “You can’t see?” Tor’s voice came from far away, like an echo inside a jar.

  “No. Where are you? Why are you back here?”

  The ethereal glow from the previous night cut through the darkness. It was dim and farther away than I expected, but its radiant light shone with clarity. Small and impossible, it grew larger as Tor approached me. His face glowed, bathed in the light that flickered in the hand he held before him. The air warmed as he neared and brought his magic with him.

  “How do you do that?”

  “How do you breathe underwater?”

  I shrugged. “Because my mother could.”

  “I don’t know who my mother is. Maybe that’s why I can do this.”

  I reached out to touch the orb. It was beautiful and shone with the brilliance of a small sun. The closer I came, the hotter the air grew until it was too much and I pulled away.

  My voice cracked a little when I spoke. “It doesn’t burn you.”

  “No. But it burns everything else.”

  I looked up to catch a wave of something dark flash across his face. It vanished again just as quickly, and he returned to his normal, stoic self.

  “Where are we going?” I asked when he walked farther down the tunnel. The fire he carried gave off enough light for me to see where I was stepping. I avoided walking into the emptiness, but the interior space was vast and I couldn’t see the ceiling or the cave walls.

  “This part of the mountain is full of caverns. I’ve been exploring them for years since I can see fine in the dark.”

  “Mother once told me Sualwets could see better than Erdlanders, but I guess not.”

  “No. I’ve escaped from Erdlanders in the dark before.”

  “I thought you were an Erdlander.”

  “Huh.”

  We walked in silence. Tor’s fire revealed the cavern splitting into more tunnels and passageways. I tried to remember which way we went, but without Tor’s light I would never find my way back. The farther we walked, the colder it became.

  At the sound of water dripping in the distance, I asked, “Are we under the mountain?”

  “A little farther and we’ll be on the far side. The hunting is better, and there’s a large lake we can fish.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “No one visits this forest. I’ve been going this way a long time. We’re far from the city, and none of the villagers use this area to hunt. I guess they’re afraid of what animals might live up here.”

  “You’ve met them?” The words tumbled from my mouth as curiosity got the best of me.

  “I lived with them. For a while.”

  The darkness around us swelled, and my breath caught. “You lived with Erdlanders? When? Why are you out here?” I stopped walking, shocked by his revelation. “What are you? What happened?”

  Blackness crept closer as Tor stood with his back to me, blocking the warm fire he held so casually in his hands.

  His voice was low when he spoke. “They said I was little when they found me. Barely walking. They lived out in a village past the city, farther north. They already had two children, so taking in another was easy. I don’t remember anything before them.” He paused. The light in his hand had dimmed, his attention focused on thoughts of the past. “I called them Mother and Father, and when the census came, they claimed me as their own. I lived with them until—I’d always been different. I was taller than my brother by the time I was four, even though he was three years older than me. I learned Erdlander when I was little, but I knew other words, too—words I don’t remember anymore.”

  “Sualwet?”

  “No. Your words make no sense to me. It was something else. But they didn’t like it, so I stopped, and now I’ve forgotten.”

  His shoulders slumped and he gazed down into the fire in his hands.

  “Why don’t you live with them now?” I urged.

  “I couldn’t always control it.”

  He didn’t need to say what it was. The glow in his hands surged, and I jumped back, startled by the flare. “Tor.”

  “It’s all right. I can control it now.”

  “What happened?” I implored, frightened.

  “They all died, Sera. They died and I ran.”

  9

  We walked in silence through the darkness until the air dried out and a dim light infiltrated the distance. Scabs covered my feet from where the thongs rubbed against them. They were still bruised and blistered from the night before, but the sandals Tor gave me made it bearable. Tired, confused, and emotionally drained, I only wanted to stop walking. I would have been happy with whatever food he had at the cave. Going back now would take more time than continuing on, so I kept my mouth shut and followed.

  Tor remained quiet since our conversation, and he refused to answer my questions. His family was dead because of the same fire that lit our path. I should have been afraid—maybe I would have, had I been born an Erdlander. Maybe he would’ve terrified me if I didn’t have webbed feet or silver eyes or skin that could absorb oxygen through osmosis. Maybe if anything about me made sense, I’d be afraid of the impossible. As it was, I was just glad for the company.

  So he was an orphan. No family, no history, no people. Where could he have come from? His origin confused and mystified me more than mine. I didn’t belong anywhere, but at least I knew what I was.

  Tor snuffed out the fire in his hand when the opening of the cave came into view. “Let me look outside.”

  I pulled back against the cave wall and watched him creep outside. Leaning forward, I saw him scan the trees and listen to the wind. Silence radiated from within the cave, blocking out any sound of birds or animals.

  Tor nodded and motioned me forward.

  The sun blinded me, scattering spots across my vision as I adjusted to the light. Rainbows distorted my sight, blending trees and sky together. Once I could focus again, I found tall trees reaching to the heavens. They were stark and bare near the earth, but far above, their branches burst with green and tan leaves.

  “This way.” Tor strode ahead, setting a difficult pace. That was probably his intention, because this way I couldn’t ask more questions. He didn’t need to worry, though. I trusted him. His gruff manner sometimes overshadowed the amusing and kind person beneath, but I was used to looking under layers for the truth. My mother had buried herself beneath so many layers that it was easy to get lost, but I never doubted she loved me.

  The edge of an open field offered a nice place to rest. Tor dropped his bag and pulled out a net. He threw a rope over a low branch, tied it to the net, and spread it out in the shaded grass. Inside the net, he placed a round metal object with teeth and a piece of dried seaweed.

  “What is it?”

  “A trap. I can usually get a rabbit or sometimes a fox.”

  “I can tell that. I do know how to hunt. No, I meant, what’s the round thing?”

  I stepped toward the trap, and Tor’s arm shot out across my path. His hand caught me by the shoulder and pulled me toward him. I stumbled but caught myself before falling.

  We stood inches apart. Two full heads above me, he looked down, his wide blue eyes and angular face only a breath away.

  “Why’d you grab me?” I demanded, pushing against his chest.

  Tor stepped back, one side of his mouth quirked upward in amusement. “If you touch it, it will break your hand—or foot. I didn’t think you’d like that.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I didn’t grab you.”

  “Sorry, I just... I don’t like to be touched.”

  “Even when your foot is about to be broken?”

  “Extreme situations aside.” I turned back to the trap, studying it from a distance. “So what is it?”

  “Don’t know. I stole it from some Erdlander hunters after I watched them use it a few times. The animal comes close to get the seaweed, and then the trap activates. This part wraps around the animal’s neck like a collar, pins it in place. Then the trap’s teeth keep tigh
tening until the animal dies.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “But effective.”

  Across the field, something moved and emitted a sound just on the edge of my hearing.

  I held up a finger to Tor before stepping over to another tree. Still hidden by the shade, I closed my eyes and listened. The air wasn’t that much different from the water. Particles filled every space; they were just lighter and disconnected. If I focused...

  “Jau... meh... a nou....”

  Opening my eyes, I nodded toward the direction of the sound. “There’s someone else here,” I whispered when Tor joined me.

  “I don’t hear anything.” He squinted into the far trees.

  “Maybe I can hear better than you, like you can see better than me. Trust me. There’s someone there.”

  “Okay.” Tor went to the trap, disabled the metal mechanism, and gathered everything up.

  My eyes shut again, and I reached out, trying to sense whoever hid in the forest. Filtering through the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, I explored other, fainter noises: grass blades rubbing together as the wind passed through the field, the claws of a small animal scraping against bark as it climbed a tree. The distant voice trembled. It was low and raspy, like someone perpetually out of breath. The breathing caught my attention first—the deep exhale followed by a shallow inhale.

  “I hear someone. He’s—I think it’s a he—he’s telling whoever he’s with to slow down.”

  My thoughts traveled across the field, lost in the vibrations of sound. I saw where the person stood—not his features, but the space where the sound originated and the forms around it. I then pulled away and returned my attention to my immediate surroundings.

  Tor’s bright eyes followed my every movement, and standing so close, I spied strands of green running through his blue irises, which made them shimmer in the sun.

  “What did you hear?” he whispered when my gaze refocused on him.

  “He’s out of breath, but I can’t hear whoever he’s with.”

  He nodded and shrugged the bag over his shoulder, and we hurried back to the cave mouth. Tor was stealthy. He moved through the forest like an animal—easy and confident. I, however, was used to running on the open shore, sand beneath my feet, not the hard landscape of the mountains, so I had to took care not to step on anything that would snap or crack

  Tor stopped and held his hand out, blocking the way. “What do you hear now?” he asked, gesturing toward the cave.

  I reached out again, the process coming easier this time. I was beginning to notice the similarities between the molecules of the air and the denser water of the sea.

  “Lock... Lock, where are you?” a woman called, but she wasn’t yelling. Her voice was strained, like she was trying to both be heard and not.

  My ears explored the area, spreading my senses, circling in slow, lazy motions, and found the familiar thrum of Elgon’s growl.

  “It’s Elgon,” I said. “He’s trapped someone by the cave.”

  I ran toward the voice, ignoring Tor’s warning.

  10

  “Elgon!” I burst through the tree line and screamed as the animal crouched and prepared to pounce. “Don’t!”

  He whipped his attention toward me, a snarl distorting his features into something monstrous. Hair stuck out at sharp and menacing angles.

  “Elgon, you know me,” I soothed in Erdlander, taking a step toward him. “Calm down.”

  “Sera!” Tor entered the clearing by the cave and skidded to a halt. Elgon’s body quivered when he saw Tor, his eyes jumping from me, to Tor, to his captive.

  Whoever she was, she appeared about my age and height, but her muscles were far more defined than mine. Light-colored hair gathered behind her head, and her short-sleeved shirt and long pants were littered with pockets.

  Tor sank to one knee and held out a hand. “Huh.”

  “What the jikmae?” the cornered woman said.

  Another growl vibrated through Elgon, but he didn’t attack her. Instead, his body tensed and he glanced from me to Tor before lowering his head. Sharp eyes trained on the woman until he eased down next to Tor and snorted.

  “Lace!” a wheezing man called from the woods behind us. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. Her eyes were dilated and her hands shook.

  “It’s all right now. He won’t attack.” Tor placed a hand on Elgon’s head before standing, and the animal’s fur flattened.

  “How do you know that?” Her voice trembled when she spoke, giving her the sound of someone much older.

  “He’s our friend,” I said.

  “You can’t be friends with a mountain hound,” she snapped.

  “Lace?”

  A heavyset man strode into the clearing. His clothes were similar to the woman’s, but his hair was dark.

  “Lace, are you okay?” he wheezed, his breath ragged.

  The woman pointed behind him to Tor, Elgon, and me.

  He jumped back, joining the woman against the cliff wall.

  We all waited for someone else to speak first. Elgon grunted and lay down, bored with our dramas.

  “Are you all right?” I asked the woman—Lace.

  “I’m... I don’t know.” She backed away from me and I stopped moving.

  “Did you get scratched or anything?”

  “No.”

  “Then calm down. You aren’t in any danger.”

  Tor shifted, relaxing his stance. The woman straightened and studied me before turning her scrutiny on Tor. While she studied us, the man with her sat down, breathing hard.

  “Are you injured?” I asked, hoping he was just out of breath so they could go away. Then Tor and I could find somewhere else to hunt. The excitement of the moment was dying down, and the gravity of having met two Erdlanders closed in on me.

  “Ignore him,” the woman said, still staring at Tor. “It’s his own fault he doesn’t take his medicine or do his exercises.”

  Despite his strange appearance, he didn’t seem threatening. His breathing was shallow and his color faded, like someone had turned off the pigment and allowed him to drift away. I crouched. His stout features lacked definition, blending from one to the next.

  “I’m Serafay,” I said.

  With gray-blue eyes, he looked up and offered a weak smile. “Hi, I’m Lock. That’s Lace.” He sucked in a deep breath. “She’s right you know—it’s my own fault. I know I should take the meds. I just hate the taste.”

  “I’m just worried about you,” I said.

  “Don’t. It’ll pass and the shuttle will be here soon.”

  “You called them?” Lace asked, returning to her companion. “Good. They’re going to want to know there are mountain hounds in this area.”

  “No,” Tor said. The darkness of worry shadowed his face. When he strode across the opening toward the cliff wall, Elgon followed, never more than a pace behind. “No one needs to know he’s here. You are safe. We’ll go.”

  “What? Are you insane?” Lace demanded. “We have to report everything we find, including you two.”

  Everything stopped and the oxygen seeped out of the sky into space, leaving me breathless. She studied our clothes, looking from Tor’s bare feet to my flimsy dress. I was covered in mud and grime. Another second and we would be sucked into the void above, our lives and everything we knew would be shattered.

  Elgon must have sensed the tension, because he growled and Tor’s face tightened under Lace’s examination.

  “They’re just on an extended mission, Lace. Look at them. They must be a Matched Pair from that Iaera survival expedition last year,” Lock said.

  “That’s right,” I agreed, quickly moving in front of Tor to block him from their view. “We’ve been learning how to survive out here.”

  “Where are the others?” Lace demanded.

  “We... we got separated. Haven’t seen them in a long time.”

  “You two have been out here all year?�
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  “Yes,” Tor responded from behind me. The warmth of his body reached out, protecting me. I knew he wanted to run, but we couldn’t: they’d report finding us either way. If we ran now, they’d know was something wrong and tell everyone about it.

  “All right.” Lace glared at Tor. “The shuttle will be here when?”

  “Any minute now,” Lock said.

  “Good. You’ll come back to the camp with us.”

  “No.” Tor’s voice was thick, the word seeping out like venom.

  Lace glared and squared her shoulders. She looked dangerous standing like that.. What would happen if they forced us to go, or if we escaped and they hunted us down? I looked like an Erdlander, but I couldn’t risk casting any doubt on my parentage.

  “Tor,” I said, feigning playfulness, “we’ve been out here a long time. We’ve gotten used to being alone, but we need to go back to the camp. We have to check in. All right?”

  I placed a hand on Tor’s arm as I spoke. My fingers tingled from the contact. Was the electric feeling his skin sent through me normal for everyone? Or was it him?

  At the touch, he twitched and scanned my eyes. “Elgon” he said.

  “Will stay here.” I kept my hand on his arm, hoping the contact would soothe the pain he likely felt at leaving his friend behind. “The camp won’t be safe for him.”

  Tor nodded and stepped away, bowing his head. Elgon rose and pushed against his leg until Tor scratched the animal’s head.

  “I don’t get how you control him,” Lock said, his breath finally evening out.

  “I don’t,” Tor said.

  “Tor and Elgon just understand each other. They have a connection, I guess. Elgon won’t hurt you. He’s just protecting us.”

  A disruption above shattered the peaceful sky. Its reverberation was deafening. My mind screamed, warning me a whine like that wasn’t safe: I had to run, had to escape. Lace and Lock seemed undisturbed by the sound, so to keep from being a curiosity, I tried to swallow my fear and mimic their casual behavior as best I could.