Into the Other (Alitura Realm Book 1)

by J. K. Holt

  “Tulla?”

  “Ashe and Dray’s mum.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She’d rarely been mentioned in the time Tess had come to know the others, a family member lingering in the periphery of their lives.

  They sat for a while in the quiet as Tess’s legs began to lose feeling, cross-legged as they were beneath Tom’s head. Still, she persisted, loath to move him when peace was finally upon his sleeping face. In this light, he looked so dim, bland, and she realized how adjusted she’d become to the auras of those all around her. Someone like her now looked dull, sickly, without that external halo of light. He had a symmetrical face with a pointed nose, and long lashes that gave him an almost feminine quality. He was likely no more than thirty.

  The door to the front shop closed and footsteps trod upon the wooden floor. Emmie eyed the door hopefully, and dutifully attempted to contain her disappointment when Fish slipped into the small area. Hat in hands, he stared down sadly at Tom. “So- is it true then? I mean, of course it must be, I heard it from Dray. But still, you know, I guess I’d hoped…” he trailed off.

  “He’s not seizing anymore. He could be alright.” Tess said softly.

  “No, Tess, he won’t be.” Emmie uncoiled her legs and stood beside Fish. “It’s true, I saw him. He’s been blurred, no question.”

  Tess bit back the question before it left her mouth, so sure was she that it wouldn’t be answered.

  A moment later, the door at the front opened once more and two lumbering pairs of footsteps thumped through the shop. Emmie heaved a sigh and opened the door, catching Ashe in the gut with her fist as he stepped into sight. He doubled over. “Boils and rot, Emmie!”

  Emmie pushed past him and left the room. Ashe watched her go before standing to full height again, rubbing his abdomen thoughtfully. “She’s just sore I ran off without talking it through with her.”

  Dray appeared beside him. “She’s right- it was stupid to go chasing off after them alone.”

  Side by side, Dray was a hair shorter than Ashe, his form thicker with muscle, as though someone had stripped all unnecessary bits away and left only the harsher essentials. Ashe nodded to Dray, deferential in his demeanor- there was no question who was dominant in this relationship.

  Ashe sighed. “Seemed a good idea at the time. I’ll go make nice with her soon- she’ll have to forgive me. Oh, manners! Tess, have you met my brother Dray?”

  A flicker of embarrassment played across Dray’s features. Tess gave him a measured look. “More or less. We didn’t exactly exchange names,” she said.

  “Not really the best timing, given the circumstances. But I’ll introduce myself now. I’m Draker- Dray, as Ashe said.”

  Tess felt a childish desire to ignore him but pushed past it. “Tess.”

  “Right,” Dray said. “Well, you can get up now, and we’ll all go somewhere more comfortable.”

  “I can’t just leave him.” Tess said.

  “A kind thought, but it won’t make a bit of difference. He’s not feeling anything anymore, certainly not the comfort of another’s touch.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know that, not for sure,” Tess retorted.

  Something dangerous played across Dray’s features, and he made ready to respond, but Ashe cast out an arm in front of him. “I’ll get a pillow for him, then. Alright then, Tess?”

  Tess glanced between them, deliberating. Dray rolled his eyes before backing out of the room, apparently done attempting to play nice with the new girl. Tess was feeling a similar level of animosity. She had half a mind to sit on the floor longer just to prove a point, but had the nagging belief that there was no one to prove it to. In addition, the hard floor was beginning to take its toll. Not only had parts of her legs begun to fall asleep and tingle painfully, but her back was aching from the lack of support. She couldn’t keep it up much longer.

  She acquiesced with a quick nod to Ashe, and he fetched a soft sack of burlap. Tom didn’t respond to the changing of the guard, his expression remaining unchanged. Tess whispered a wish of good luck to him before rising, with Ashe’s help, to her feet.

  The others had gathered in the adjacent back storage room, this one containing floor to ceiling shelves with drawers, all shut. All were silent but for Emmie, who was humming to herself as she dashed a quick braid into her unraveled hair. She was sitting on a bench in the middle of the room, while Dray haunted the nearby corner and Fish paced. Tess joined Emmie on the seat.

  Dray cleared his throat. “I’ve sent Rosie for Laurel.”

  “Tom’s wife,” Emmie stage-whispered to Tess. Then, louder, “Is that the smartest decision, though? Will she really have the capacity to manage this? She always seemed a simple thing to me.”

  “What else can we do?” Dray responded, his voice brittle. “Do you think she might just assume he wandered off and not go looking for him? Would you, if you were her?”

  “Course not, mate,” Fish said, halting his pacing to stand behind the girls. “But you know what she means. If Laurel isn’t up for this, what then? Is that a fate we’re willing to put to Tom?”

  Dray threw his hands in the air. “Again, what would you have me do? I know of no other way. Anyways, his fate’s already been decided now, you all know that.”

  “What about…” Emmie began. “Well, you don’t think Giles Mosely might help?”

  Ashe, who had taken the spot in the opposite corner of his brother, so that they resembled two statues on guard duty, shook his head. “I considered, we considered, but no. He barely allowed it before, and he’s no need for another extra hand. And we don’t even know if Tom could come back enough to become responsive.”

  Tess rubbed her neck, absently, as she watched them bicker. Fish stopped his pacing behind her and casually grasped her shoulder, shooing her own hand away as he began to kneed her aching muscle. Startled as she was by the gesture, Tess leaned into the pressure, grateful.

  Emmie spoke. “What of the Lampies? Did you find any trace of them?”

  “No,” Ashe said. “Fool’s errand, running after them, but I had to try. You do see that, don’t you, Em?”

  Emmie shook her head mildly at him before turning away, apparently preferring to stew a while longer. She unraveled the braid she’d finished and started again. Tess saw it for the busy work it was but did not comment.

  After a pause, Ashe said, a little less certain now, “Well, it’s done now. We couldn’t find them, and again we’ve lost the opportunity.”

  “Scuttled back under the rock they crawled out from. Or back to their ship, anyways,” Dray muttered.

  Tess, having been lost in the conversation since the start, felt now was as good a time as any to jump in. “So, is anyone going to tell me what I’m missing here? What’s going on with Tom, for starters? And who are the lampies? Just to start us off, mind you.”

  Dray seemed to have forgotten that Tess was in the room- he narrowed his eyes, his glance passing from Tess to Fish, who quickly dropped his hand from her shoulder and began to pace again. Tess couldn’t help but feel a bit abandoned by the act.

  “She can’t help us if she doesn’t know.” Emmie said mildly.

  “She can’t betray us, either,” Dray replied.

  “Sure she could. Or, at the very least, she could make things a bit harder. But she hasn’t,” Emmie said. “That speaks for her.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” Tess muttered.

  “And so you are,” Dray said. “Tell me, Tess, as this is our first meeting; where are you from, exactly?”

  “Why does that matter?” Tess asked, annoyed.

  “Because I don’t know you, that’s why. You appear out of nowhere, somehow exactly in the right location at the right time, within… what, weeks?- of meeting the others, and this is all somehow a coincidence? And now you’re pulling the innocent act- trouble is, I’m just not sure I believe it.”

  Tess felt slapped. “Maybe you don’t, but I know Ashe, and Emmie, and the others. Or at least, I’m
starting to. And they’re beginning to know me. I don’t expect you to trust me, but maybe trust them.”

  Dray cocked his head. “I do. Rosie doesn’t seem convinced of you yet, either.”

  Tess snorted. “Rosie’s insecure. She wouldn’t trust anything new that pulled attention away from her.”

  Fish sniggered. “There’s truth to that.”

  “Oh?” Dray took in the rest of his group with his glare. “And what about the last stray of Gowan’s that you all befriended? Or have you all casually forgotten what happened that time?” Dray stepped closer to Tess, pointing an accusatory finger. “She could be worse.”

  Uncertain of his reference, Tess pushed on. “And what exactly would convince you that I’m on your side? In case you didn’t notice, I helped you today.”

  “Have you? You brought trouble directly to our doorstep.”

  “Now, that’s not fair,” Ashe interjected. “I told Tess and Emmie to bring him back here.”

  “That’s another matter,” Dray responded. “For now, I’m just considering one problem at a time.”

  Ashe shook his head, but slumped back, temporarily cowed.

  “I’m sorry, are you referring to me as the problem right now?” Tess said.

  Dray returned his attention and impenetrable glare to her. “For lack of a better word.”

  Tess was incredulous. Against her will, angry tears began to form, and she fought them back. She glanced around, searching for an ally. Fish and Ashe had begun to slowly meld their bodies into the background, and Emmie looked flustered and unhappy, but her mouth seemed clamped shut. It seemed they were willing to go no further to aid her.

  How quickly people could abandon you. She could literally see them closing ranks, and she felt the fool, thinking that over these past few weeks, they’d become closer, that they’d begun to let her into their group, to accept her. Those delusions felt suddenly dashed, all with the addition of a crisis and the older brother.

  It was at this moment that Rosie burst into the room. Her cheeks were aflame with color, and she looked as though she’d been running, none the happier for it but possibly somewhat giddy with the role she’d been tasked to play. Ignorant of the tepid social climate, she nearly fell over her words. “Alright, Laurel’s coming. She’s probably only a few moments behind me but I rushed here to give you some warning. I’ve not told her the details, but by her face I think she might have guessed what’s happened. She went all white, as a sheet, it was horrible. I offered to wait for her, don’t think I left her, I’m not completely uncaring, but she just said no and she’d be along right away. So, where is he?”

  “Next door,” Ashe indicated with a sideways nod of his head.

  “How is he, then?”

  “As you’d expect,” Dray said. “We’ll need to talk her through it.”

  “Right,” Rosie said, making to leave the room but pausing when no one followed. “What’s the wait, then?”

  Dray cleared his throat and glanced in Tess’s direction.

  Tess was livid, but inclined to play it cool. She waited just a beat more to be certain no one was planning on coming to her defense before saying, “Well, that’s my cue.” She stood as gracefully as she could and left the room, forcing her way around Rosie, who still stood in the doorway. She was beginning to feel the hurt building and wanted to be well clear of them before it bubbled over.

  She was almost free, two steps from the door really, when Ashe caught up to her, with Emmie just behind. “Wait, Tess.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “Please.” He caught her arm. She whirled around and pushed him, hard, with her other arm, causing him to lose his balance and take a step backwards. He had the audacity to look hurt.

  “Don’t touch me,” she snarled.

  “Tess-” Emmie started.

  “Oh! You’ve both found your voices again, how lovely. Amazing how they were nowhere to be found when your brother was reaming me a new one.”

  If they didn’t recognize the unfamiliar turn of phrase, neither showed it. “I’m sorry,” Ashe said, abashed. “But there’s a history here, and there are things that we can’t just trust to anyone, not without knowing for sure.”

  “Really? So that’s it then? It’s got nothing to do with your brother having your balls firmly in his pocket?” she said loudly.

  Ashe shifted position and she noticed behind him that the others had piled out of the room and were now watching the display. She shook her head at them before turning back to Ashe.

  “You sought me out, remember? That whole ‘it’s good to have friends’ rot you sold to me.” She laughed, a brittle sound. “And I bought it! I should’ve known better, but I bought it. I’m not sure what I needed to do to make you trust me, or like me.” She could tell she was on the verge of sounding pathetic.

  “But pulling me in to your little group, only to treat me like this… it’s low, is what it is. And I don’t deserve it. To use me when you need me, and then push me aside afterwards.” This time she narrowed her eyes past them, in Dray’s direction, swallowing hard. He held her glance for only a moment before breaking the eye contact and looking away.

  Emmie made one last attempt, in a quiet voice, as one might coo to a beaten and abandoned dog. “We weren’t lying to you, Tess, honest-”

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses. And honestly, I don’t want to see any of you again either. Not unless you decide I’m worthy of your trust. Because I’m not going to bend over backwards for people who toss me aside whenever they feel like it. I’m not expendable.”

  The old mantra slipped out quite on its own, well-worn from the past year. Every time a foster family didn’t work out, she’d turned back to it, repeating it to herself, in a way clinging to the ghost of her mother. Her mother, who had told her she wasn’t expendable the moment Tess had turned up on her doorstep at the age of seven, who had repeated it with conviction every time Tess was treated as less by others, grasping Tess firmly until she was prepared to say the words herself. I am not expendable. Like a cloak of protection, before she really even grasped what the words meant. She threw it back on now, when she needed it, and felt that small bit of her mother wrap around her, and her pain was both comforted by her mother’s presence and compounded by her grief.

  She looked once more towards Dray. “I’ve decided I don’t want to know you, how’s that? No need to be tainted by association. Enjoy your secret little club- I’m no longer interested in membership.”

  She turned and left, allowing the tears to escape as the shop door closed behind her. Quickly the way became blurred, and she stumbled to the side of the road, attempting to slow her breathing as it became ragged and raw. Just get back to the Muddy Gull, Tess. It isn’t far. Control it, don’t let it control you. She turned and began walking again.

  She could hear someone open the door behind her and begin to follow, and she picked up her pace, wholly uninterested in any current peacemaking effort. The steps loped closer, the steady and heavy rhythm of them calling Ashe to mind, and her hands began to turn into fists and she prayed he wouldn’t touch her, so she wouldn’t have to push him away, so he wouldn’t have to see her like this, but the footfalls stopped just short of her.

  “Laurel,” the man behind her said, the voice deep and concerned, and she was surprised to note that it was Dray’s. She looked up and saw a woman approaching, her pace faltering as she drew nearer now. She was plainly dressed, her face young and scared. She was shaking. Dray passed Tess and moved to Laurel’s side to grasp an elbow.

  “He’s inside now, Laurel. Let me help you.” His gentle cajoling did not encourage her, and she stopped firmly in her tracks, shaking more with every passing moment. Tess wanted to continue walking, but to pass by someone so in pain without hesitation wasn’t in her character. She took a step back instead, attempting to stay out of their way.

  The fragile woman spoke. “Tell me- tell me Tom’s just had too much to drink, Dray. That’s why I’m h
ere, isn’t it? Did he fall, hit his head? He’s never been good with holding his drink, and he was out all night. Is that it, then?”

  “Come on, Laurel, come inside. We’ll talk then.” Dray again tugged her, but she resisted.

  “Tell me! Please. I can’t- I can’t take this.” Her voice had reached a shrill pitch, and passersby from further down the alley had begun to turn back, curious as to the commotion.

  Dray looked fully unprepared for managing the woman on his own, and Tess could tell that he’d soon lose his patience and pick her up to drag her into the relative privacy of the shop. To protect the woman, she stepped forward quickly, putting aside her current anger at Dray.

  She took the woman by the other arm. “There now, let’s go this way, shall we?” She pulled gently and the woman relented. She’d begun to retreat into herself, and she whimpered along the way, but Tess and Dray were able to guide her back to the door of the shop. Once the door was open and they began to enter, Tess slowly slipped her hand from the woman’s arm and left. Dray spared her a passing glance before the door shut between them and he turned back towards the interior. Tess had seen that the others had already begun to see Laurel to a seat in the front. She suddenly had no interest in whatever came next. It was clear that it would only lead to pain.

  Her instincts were confirmed as the wails and screams reverberated through the glass, finding Tess before she turned the corner towards the Muddy Gull. The sounds stayed with her, an echo of horror, throughout the rest of the day, reverberating through her head whenever all else around her had quieted.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Tess nursed her wounded pride over the course of the next few days. Gowan, more receptive to the emotions of those around him than he might originally let on, gave her a wide berth. She spoke with him courteously during meals and did whatever he asked of her, but stayed to herself whenever possible, choosing to stock shelves and hide towards the back rather than stay in plain sight, in case Ashe or Emmie came looking for her. She wanted the opportunity to hide, but didn’t end up needing it- no one came.

  Tinker stayed close to her and reacted as any cat might; by not caring in the least. He pushed in on her lap when all she wanted was space, clawing her in her sleep and demanding attention when it was what he craved. During other moments of solitude, when petting a soft animal might have provided some relief, he was nowhere to be found, or quickly eluded her advances for cuddling. In this way, he reminded her that she was not the center of the universe. It was a necessary lesson.