Into the Other (Alitura Realm Book 1)

by J. K. Holt

  Ashe’s eyes flashed. “Oh, aye, there is-”

  “Best to let Dray tell it, though,” Fish cut in. “You know how he loves to do the impression of me.”

  Emmie had begun giggling. “Yes, you, floundering in the water.” She began to make a gurgling noise and flail her arms above her head. The others began to laugh- even Rosalie allowed the concession of a small smile. Fish leaned back, flinging a casual arm around Rosie as if to invite her back in to the conversation without wounding her pride. After a moment, she seemed to relent, her eyes softening as she looked back at her friends. They all had a comfortable familiarity with one another that made Tess jealous- the ease that only comes with years of camaraderie and shared experiences.

  “Now, that’s not fair, Emmie,” Fish interjected. “You weren’t there. I looked much more regal than that.”

  “Really, Fish, how regal can one possibly look when drowning?” Rosalie rolled her eyes at him. “Besides, Dray doesn’t make you look any more heroic than Emmie when he tells it.”

  “Dray?” Tess said. “Is he another friend of yours?”

  “Oh aye, my best chum,” Fish replied. “Not that I play favorites, mind you. Though if anyone has claim to him, it’d be Ashe. He’s his brother.”

  Ashe shook his head. “No one lays claim to Dray, you know that. He belongs to himself, these days more than ever.” There was a sadness to his voice that seemed out of character. Ashe cleared his throat, though it did little to clear the air. Emmie laid a delicate hand on his arm for a moment before pulling away at the sound of Rosalie’s voice.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. He’s busy is all.”

  “So… he won’t be coming tonight?” Tess said.

  “Not likely, that.” Ashe had worked to brighten his mood, turning and waving to someone in the crowd. “You’ll just have to be contented with our lively company. And though I am apparently forbidden to tell Fish’s origin story, I have many more entertaining tales, have faith in that.”

  A young man hurtled towards them, depositing several steins of beer on the table before pushing in next to Tess, not unkindly. She recognized him from the first time she was here with Gowan- he’d delivered their dinner that night.

  “Rots, we’re full tonight. First time I’ve sat in hours.” He turned towards Tess, nodding. “Hullo.”

  Ashe, remembering his role of cheermaster, jumped in. “Tess, this is Russ. Russ, Tess.”

  “Welcome.” Russ leaned closer, rubbing arms against Tess flirtatiously. “What have they told you about me, then? Only the good parts are true.”

  Rosalie snorted loudly. “Clear off, man. You know mum won’t be glad to see you chumming over here when tables are full and staff short.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, by all means, feel free to get off yer arse and help me. You’ll get blisters on that fat bottom if you spend much more time sitting on it.” Russ retorted.

  There was a clear sound of movement beneath the table followed by a loud thud and a yowl of pain from Russ. “Witch,” he hissed at Rosie as he rose and began to limp away. “See you around then, Tess.”

  Rosie watched him go with a strange mixture of annoyance and begrudging love. Looking now, Tess could see the easy resemblance- the eyes, shape of the nose, and of course that same red hair. Still, she asked- “Brother?”

  “Worse- twin,” Rosalie replied.

  “Have you got any siblings then, Tess?” Ashe leaned forward, grabbing a glass before shoving the rest across to the other table members. Tess sipped hers before replying.

  “No, I haven’t. It was always just me and my mom, until she passed away.”

  “It’s just my mum and I as well,” Emmie said. “I wanted a sibling growing up, but now that I see the headache it causes, I might be a bit grateful to have avoided it.” She flashed a sympathetic smile Rosalie’s way, which was acknowledged with an affirmative noise.

  The conversation soon turned to other topics and Tess was content to listen. After an hour, when the din died down, Russ rejoined the table. Once in a while, Tess would be invited in by a question or two, and she made a couple of clever comments that earned appreciative laughs, but she largely stayed an observer, noting the casual dynamics that ran throughout the group.

  Fish was clearly the entertainer, goodnaturedly enjoying the laughter brought at his expense, while Emmie played peacekeeper and the role of little sister to them all. Russ flirted with Tess numerous times, but she had the feeling that it was more for show than anything else, likely because he saw how much it annoyed his sister. For her part, Rosalie was bossy and cynical, but much of it seemed like an act for Tess. And Ashe seemed to be the glue, holding the group together. Tess couldn’t help but wonder how his brother, Dray, fit in to all of this. From the way Ashe had spoken of him, she guessed him to be the older sibling. Rosalie, Russ, and Edric all appeared to be a year or two older than Tess, while she guessed that Emmie was the youngest- sixteen, maybe.

  It was late by the time the group disbanded, the fire dwindled down to embers, and only the heartiest customers still at the bar. Russ and Rosalie both grumbled and departed sluggishly towards the back after an accusatory glance from their mother, roped into cleanup. The others parted ways outside, with Fish heading towards the market and Emmie and Ashe towards a nearby north-bound alley.

  “Until tomorrow, then, Tess?” Emmie called.

  “Yes, see you then!” Ashe called over his shoulder, brooking no chance for a counterargument.

  A warmth rose in Tess’s belly, and she felt a bit silly for being so affected by their inclusion of her. Nevertheless, she relished it. It had been such a long time, she’d almost forgotten the feeling.

  Chapter Six

  In the predawn hours some weeks later, Tess woke to kneading paws and a motorboat purr emanating from a source directly against her ear. Tinker, settled quite contentedly upon her head, was severely put off by her attempts at relocation. Several hisses and stinging scratches later, Tess was quite awake and knew any attempts to return to slumber would be in vain. A quick glance at the meager light in the room suggested early morning, and she decided upon a walk before the shop opened.

  The weather was unseasonably mild, the wind without bite as she walked towards the pier. It was market day, and Tess had half a mind to sit beneath Peggy and watch the town wake up. Sunrise was not far off, and through many windows she spotted lanterns and movement, indications of a town slowly, if begrudgingly, coming to life.

  A low rumble on the cobblestones a street or two over put in mind a person pushing a cart; Tess took a chance and jogged up a narrow cut-through between the buildings until she found the source. She was right; it was Ashe grumbling mildly to himself as he shoved the bakery stall down the alley. She slunk up behind him and grabbed his arm, whispering a boo, mindful of disrupting the quiet of the street. Ashe had no such compunction. He half shouted in surprise before regaining before grinning at the sight of her. “Shame on you, Tess, startling a man like that. Now make yourself useful and help me get this beastly thing down to the market, while I think about forgiving you.”

  They each took a side, the extra effort at balancing making it only slightly easier to maneuver. Grunting, Tess said, “Do you always do this yourself?”

  Ashe yelped as a wheel ran over his toes. “Rot, that hurt. No, Emmie or Dray’s usually here with me. But Emmie’s waiting on the last batch of buns and Dray got waylaid yet again,” he muttered. “So I’m on my own. Or was, before you of course.”

  Several evenings at the Spilling Inn later and Tess had still yet to meet the elusive brother- in some ways, Dray was beginning to take on an almost mystical quality.

  They were nearly there now. Several yards in front of them, a man stumbled into view from a nearby alley, seemingly drunk. Something about him struck Tess as unusual, but they were nearly upon him, his form leaning heavily against the brick, before it came to Tess.

  He had no aura.

  She stopped suddenly, confounded by the realization,
and stared. Ashe, unaware, continued, nearly tripping as the lack of counterbalance caused the cart to jolt forward. “Cripes, Tess!”

  He came to stand beside her. “What in the world are you doing?”

  Tess balked at an explanation. Ashe noticed the man and uttered a friendly, “Oi, Tom,” though he continued to stare at Tess, a bewildered expression on his face. “Tess?”

  How could she explain?

  “I… I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I just…”

  Ashe cocked his head at her, then turned to look more closely at the man. He stepped forward a fraction. “Tom? Alright then? Can I help you home?” He stood, motionless for several seconds before snapping his fingers in front of Tom’s face. Tom, for his part, seemed not to hear Ashe at all, his face a slack object of study. Ashe stared for a moment more before swearing softly and closing the gap between himself and the man.

  “No, no, no, no, Tom,” he whispered furtively. Then, more insistently, “Tom, man. Tom!” Again, he snapped his fingers, then lightly slapped the man across the face. Tom maintained his relaxed study of the distance, staring at some fixed point past Ashe, through Ashe.

  Something’s wrong with him. Really wrong, Tess realized. An image of a zombie flickered through her head, quickly replaced by a lobotomy victim. The glossy, unfocused eyes, the sluggish demeanor. The lights are on, but no one’s home.

  Ashe continued his attempts to rouse Tom while Tess cast about for some way to be useful. She spotted Emmie, a heavy basket under each arm, trundling closer to them and, with no better sense of direction available, moved to help.

  “What’s wrong?” Emmie said to Tess and she slipped a basket from her arm to Tess’s.

  “I don’t know. The man, uh…Tom? He isn’t responding. Ashe is trying to get through to him.”

  Clarity, followed quickly by fear, alit Emmie’s face. She dropped her remaining basket and ran to Ashe’s side. “Oh my world, Ashe, it’s Tom Engles. Ashe, wasn’t he just-”

  Ashe cut her off with a hiss and a harsh glance. Emmie glanced back at Tess, conflicted, before nodding to Ashe. “You just found him like this?”

  “Yeah. Or I should say Tess did. I didn’t even notice, ashamed to say. Too busy with the damned cart.”

  Tess realized she was being given a chance to provide an excuse for her strange reaction, and seized it. “He just looked odd. Maybe the way he was walking? He came out from the alley just there- that’s when I noticed him.” Tess pointed.

  Ashe looked up, following Tess’s line of sight. Emmie read his look and interrupted. “No, Ashe, don’t- it’s too dangerous.”

  “Is Dray returned yet?” Ashe asked.

  “Yes, just before I left. Go fetch him first and then-”

  “No, I’ll go now. You and Tess, get Tom back to the shop. Tell Dray where I’ve gone. He’ll follow.”

  Emmie attempted to protest but Ashe squeezed her arm once and then took off at a jog down the nearby alley. Irate, Emmie uttered a cry of frustration before throwing her hands in the air. “No, of course not, Ashe! Why on earth would you listen to me? What on earth could I know, you stupid, stupid….” the muttering continued but the fight had left Emmie. In its place, a cold determination set her jaw and she looked to Tess.

  “Let’s take him then. Can ye get his arm?”

  Tess stepped forward. “Yes.”

  They left the baskets and cart in the street, urging Tom back towards the bakery by half dragging, half carrying him, each propping up their half of the nearly comatose character. Tom abided them well enough, shuffling along, his expression unchanged.

  “What’s going on, Emmie? What’s wrong with him?”

  Emmie’s fair hair had come loose, falling in glossy waves over her face. She blew it from her eyes and threw Tess an apologetic glance. “It’s difficult to explain, Tess. Best get him back to the shop, and out of the street, for now. I’m sure explanations will follow.”

  Would they? Tess wasn’t so certain. But prodding Emmie further didn’t seem the right choice. Not now at least.

  Several minutes later, the man’s weight had begun to take its toll. “How much further?” Tess huffed.

  “Nearly there now. See the glass front up ahead? It’s the bakery.”

  A lovely shop front with a large picture window came into view, stenciled white calligraphy identifying it as the Reed Bakery. Tess realized now that she’d passed it many times before, only ever at night, when the white letters would have been less visible, unlit by either sunlight or lanterns from within.

  Tess transferred Tom’s weight more evenly towards Emmie so she could grasp the door with her other hand. Before she could grab the handle, the door swung outward, and she stepped back only just in time to avoid being smacked directly in the face. “Eesh!” she responded instinctively, irritation at the whole endeavor threatening to boil over towards the newfound object of her displeasure.

  The man who came through the door, however, gave her barely a moment’s notice, instead pushing past and pulling Tom’s arm over his own shoulders to guide him into the shop. “What happened to him?” he demanded as they pulled him inside.

  Tess was left standing struck in his wake. Emmie began to follow, holding open the door and turning back. “C’mon Tess,” she urged. After a beat, Tess obliged.

  Inside, the shop was a picture of quaint charm, gleaming glass display cases housing a variety of breads and pastries as the humid smell of yeast and sugar hung in the air. Despite their current situation, Tess’s mouth watered, and she swallowed hard and followed them through a door that led to the back of the shop. Several more doors appeared, and it was through one of these that they now entered. A pantry, from the look of it, with shelves stocked full of bags and tubs of ingredients. There was a large open space in the middle in which Emmie and the other man now stood on either side of Tom. Emmie was quickly recapping the ordeal for their new companion as he took in Tom’s appearance. He went through similar motions as Ashe, calling Tom’s name and shaking him, before setting his jaw and smacking Tom, hard, across the face.

  At this, Tess’s irritation bubbled over. “Oh, enough already! Clearly, slapping him isn’t working. Ashe tried the same. Just lay the poor man down and let him rest for a moment.”

  At this, the young man looked up and took her in for the first time, and Tess took the opportunity to do the same.

  So, here was the elusive Dray. His coloring, build, and stature mirrored that of his brother; even his dark hair was the same, though he kept his cut short, giving curls no opportunity to sprout. His eyes, squinted now, were a non-descript grey, and his face cut a more severe profile, with more hard lines than soft edges. He looked both slightly older than Ashe and ancient at the same time. The only truly pleasant thing about his face were his full lips, though they were currently curled into a sneer as he stared at her. Tess didn’t usually go for judging a person by first impressions, but at the moment she had a strong inclination to choose Ashe as her favorite sibling.

  He glanced down as Tom began to shudder rapidly, his muscles spasming as he quickly slipped from Dray’s grasp and fell, convulsing, onto the floor. Dray dropped to his side- “Rot! Emmie, get a spoon, he’ll swallow his own tongue.”

  Tess dropped down next to Dray. “No, don’t put a spoon in his mouth, and certainly not your finger. He’s just as likely to bite it off and choke on it. Trust me, I took an EMT cour-” she bit her tongue quickly at the mistake. “I’ve had some training. Here, I’ll show you.”

  She pushed her way closer, giving Dray a strong jab with her elbow when he initially refused to move from Tom’s side. He budged only slightly, but Tess set her jaw and looked at him. “Fine, help then. We need to move him to his side.”

  She grasped Tom under his shoulder and turned to face Dray. “Now you do the same.” She allowed him one moment of defiance before repeating, more forcefully. “Do it or more, so Emmie can help instead. Your choice.”

  He shook his head only once before joining h
er, pushing Tom until he lay on his side, still shuddering. Tess skootched forward, lifting Tom’s head so it could rest in her lap as she steadied his shoulder with her other hand. She spoke to him in quiet tones as the spasms continued, pulling back his hair from his face. His eyes, still unfocused, alit from within with pain and confusion, and Tess felt her heart break ever so slightly for this man she didn’t know. She tuned out the rest of her surroundings, attempting only to give comfort, to remain with him while the worst of the seizure passed.

  In time, she felt him slow, his body pulling less violently against her own, and she continued her encouragement, slowly now as she watched his eyes close and his body finally begin to relax. Reluctant to move with his head positioned as it was, she remained sitting, cradling him, and became aware of a cup of tea being offered by a hand in her periphery. It was Emmie, crouched beside her; Dray had disappeared in the interim.

  Emmie saw the question in her eyes and answered- “He’s gone after Ashe. I expect they’ll both be back soon enough, once they realize the culprits are long gone. I hope so, at least.”

  Tess noticed her fatigue in the same moment that it began to settle upon her shoulders. She took a steadying breath. “Tell me what’s going on, Emmie. What don’t I know? Who are Ashe and Dray hoping to find? And what happened to Tom?”

  Emmie grimaced. “I wish I could explain it, I do.” She glanced around the room as if looking for the answer. “But it’s not just something I can share. Not without the rest of them agreeing to it. I’ll fight for you on this- I think you should know. But we can, I can’t, just tell you without them. Please understand.”

  Her arm settled calmly around Tess’s back, and the weight felt a bit lifted. Tess believed Emmie, and she understood in a way, even if it was incredibly frustrating.

  Thinking back to the incident, Tess remembered market day. “Oh, Emmie, what about the cart? And we left those baskets just lying there in the-”

  “Not to worry. I found Tulla soon after we arrived, back in the kitchen. She’s gone after it.”