The Twisted Vine

by Alyce Caswell

  Several gods nodded mutely.

  Finara’s expression grew stony. ‘Kuja, stop this right now. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. To protect you.’

  ‘We outnumber Fayay,’ Kuja said, moving his eyes along the line of gods, ‘and you saw what just one of us can do to him. If you think ignoring what you want will make the desire for it go away, then you are all fools.’

  ‘What does he know — he’s just a boy,’ Isabis, the goddess of savannah, said snidely. ‘The youngest of us.’

  Kuja levelled a finger at her. ‘I’m young, sure, but unlike you I haven’t forgotten who my mother was. We’re half mortal. We can know love — Father even made sure that Sandsa experienced it so he would get better at caring for his people!’ Kuja drew a breath. ‘Sandsa would still have his wife if she hadn’t left him. That wasn’t the Ine’s doing. It was Callista’s.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean we’re all allowed to jump out that airlock — and barging on in here with righteous fury won’t help you against Father,’ Finara warned. ‘He doesn’t want any of us messing with his grand design.’

  Kuja slapped his thigh and Fayay dropped to the floor behind him, cursing. ‘Did you see what I did to our brother? I can do that to any of you. So get out of my way.’

  The gods parted to let him through. Fayay’s heavy strides gave chase, but Kuja didn’t bother to turn around. He knew his brothers and sisters would halt the water god with their own powers. Some of them called out encouragement, but most were silently watching, no doubt waiting to see if Kuja would be punished — or if they could benefit from his bravery.

  Kuja heard the intake of breath when a ring of blazing white light swept from his crown to his feet. The colourless powers that bore him away belonged to the being who had created the universe, the being who had then created the sub-level gods so that all the galaxy’s people, human or otherwise, could be cared for as they spread across a starry sea.

  Kuja could not discern the limits of the room he found himself in; there were no walls, only a white horizon that spread out in every direction. He was alone at first, but then furniture arrived, clashing with the bare surrounds. Battered and brown, the chairs would have been considered prized Old Earth antiquities by the mortals. It was hard to know if they had been transported from that time or if they had been created in situ.

  Kuja sank into one of the chairs and willed tiny roots to grow over his hands like wrinkles. He drew strength from his plants as they came to him, but they were silent, as though afraid to tempt the ire of the one who had given them life before they’d ever had the Rforine to watch over them.

  A fire roared into being several paces away. Old blackened bricks rose to encase it. Kuja sat up straight, his chest constricting painfully when he saw what the flames were shedding their uneven light on.

  The Ine’s white hair and tidy beard did little to soften the frightful intensity of his blue eyes or the angular lines of his skeletal form. He lounged in the other chair as though he had been there for hours, nursing a mug of liquid that steamed and carried a floral scent. Tea, something the Ine’s late wife had enjoyed. And it was also Fei’s preferred drink.

  Kuja swallowed. The tirade he’d been forming in his mind faded.

  ‘Um, hi,’ he said, then winced. This was no mortal to be swayed by friendly pleasantries. ‘Father. I…I do not know how to say this, but surely you’ve seen my thoughts…’

  The Ine set his mug down on vines that rose from the floor at his feet; the green cords curled around the item, keeping it clear of the ground. This display of Kuja’s own powers was a deliberate reminder that the Ine could be bested by no one. He had no weaknesses.

  Except his lack of compassion, Kuja thought, uncaring if his father heard it.

  ‘Compassion is one of the gifts I gave to the mortals,’ the Ine said in response to this. ‘While it is not an attribute of mine I do possess an understanding of it, though I know you would disagree.’

  Kuja gripped the arms of his chair. ‘Do I need you fight you?’

  ‘Why would we need to fight, my son?’ the Ine asked, his voice grave.

  ‘Because you’ll have a plan for me that I won’t like!’ Kuja cried. ‘And if I defy you, if I threaten your grand design, you’ll stand by and let Fayay go after Fei — the way you let him go after Sandsa and Callista!’

  The muscles in Kuja’s legs screamed for him to leap up and defend himself, but he remained where he was, trying to calm his erratic breathing. He could admit that he was terrified at the prospect of dying. Did he and his siblings have the same options that the mortals did after death? Would he be given the choice between resting eternally or returning to make something better of himself in the next life?

  Kuja wasn’t so sure his father would allow him that second attempt.

  ‘You do not need to risk your life,’ the Ine said and waved a hand. His mug of tea slowly descended into the floor where it vanished, along with the vines he had created. ‘I wish you and your brothers and sisters had come to me instead of letting your doubts affect your duties.’

  ‘How are we supposed to come to you?’ Kuja demanded. ‘How? We saw what you did to Sandsa when he wanted to follow his heart! And worse, you made a lesson out of it — no wonder Callista ran! I can’t blame her for wanting to take her son away from this mess. You know what? Stark you. Stark you for letting it get so far between me and Fei if all you were going to do was take her from me. I won’t let you — I won’t!’

  He jumped out of the chair and kicked the furniture back a pace. His powers rose within him, conjuring soil that spun around his feet, birthing miniature versions of every plant he could control. Kuja felt the nearness of death with such clarity, such certainty, that he wondered why he’d ever been afraid of it.

  ‘Kuja, sit down,’ his father instructed.

  ‘No!’

  ‘You are not some mortal child — you are seventy-five years old.’ The Ine gestured at Kuja’s chair. No vines twisted there, no water dampened the cushions, no sand filled the dips in the fabric — the furniture remained innocuous and free of threat. ‘Sit and I will tell you why you will not be fighting me.’

  ‘Because I’m doomed if I do, right?’ Kuja snarled.

  ‘Do not assume that you know anything about my grand design,’ the Ine said mildly. ‘It is too complex for you.’

  Kuja eyed his father, still wary. ‘I won’t be the last to challenge you and your grand design. The others will do it, sooner or later.’

  The Ine’s laugh was soft, as though riding a breeze. ‘You are so much wiser than them, Kuja. They forget that they, just like my mortal children, are afflicted with fears and doubts and the guilt from decisions that cannot be unmade.’

  ‘Am I about to make a mistake?’ Kuja asked, lowering himself into his seat.

  ‘Are you?’ his father countered.

  Kuja made a face. ‘Just tell me what I’m not allowed to do so I know which points to argue with you.’

  The Ine raised his symmetrical eyebrows; a gentle rebuke. ‘Cease making assumptions. What do you know for certain?’

  ‘Alright,’ Kuja said. ‘I love Feiscina Neron and I want to be with her and our son for eternity. I can’t deny that because you’ll see it in my head anyway.’

  ‘And you believe that this desire is at odds with my plans for you.’

  ‘It’s not like you had any trouble punishing Sandsa for straying from the plans you had for him,’ Kuja muttered.

  The Ine released a heavy sigh. The effect it had on him was startling — it gave his face lines, shadows, even crow’s feet. He suddenly had the appearance of a man who had long been wearied by the galaxy instead of the immortal being who had created it. ‘In your pursuit of love, you have never once abandoned your duties or ignored your people. Sandsa, however, did. That was why I did not stop Fayay from forcing your oldest brother to return to the pantheon.’

  Kuja gnawed on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It couldn
’t mean what he thought it meant. He couldn’t be that lucky.

  ‘It is not luck, Kuja,’ the Ine told him.

  ‘Not luck,’ Kuja repeated. ‘I suppose it’s not luck that I found Fei and she’s so perfect for me. It’s not luck that she can read my thoughts the way I can hers. Me meeting her…was deliberate.’

  The Ine bowed his head just slightly.

  Kuja’s laugh was wrenched from him like a piercing that was too new, too fresh. ‘So she’s been in your plan for me all along.’

  ‘She inspired Bagara to reach out to those who needed him, but whether or not love followed was up to the two of you,’ the Ine replied, his face smoothing out as he regained his usual mysterious countenance. ‘If you mean to be with Fei, you must tell her the truth now or you risk losing her forever.’

  ‘You want me to tell the truth, even though you’ve never done it yourself,’ Kuja said, glaring at the fireplace, wishing he could hurl his father into it but knowing the desire was never going to eventuate into something real.

  The Ine nodded gracefully. ‘It is your decision, of course. I have no problem with you binding yourself to Feiscina Neron for eternity — and Fayay won’t either, once he realises the opportunity has always been available to him. I will ensure that he feels my displeasure if he harms any of my children’s chosen spouses.’

  Kuja’s lips trembled. ‘Why didn’t you explain this to the others earlier? You let them think that love was a distraction, a threat to the grand design. You let them think you’d send Fayay after them if they slipped up!’

  ‘It was not the right time for my children to meet the mortals destined for them,’ the Ine answered. As if that explained everything. As if it made up for years of fear and uncertainty.

  ‘This isn’t fair,’ Kuja said through clenched teeth. ‘It’s downright cruel. And I’m glad you put us in charge of the galaxy because at least we inherited Mum’s empathy. I’m afraid to know how you treated the mortals before you gave them to us.’

  The Ine’s blue eyes grew distant. ‘Now you realise why I needed you and your siblings.’

  ‘Did you forget the part where I said it was cruel?’

  ‘You know your purpose now,’ the Ine continued, relaxing against the chair, seemingly unbothered by Kuja’s words. ‘You have shown them, gods and mortals alike, that they are allowed to doubt. They should not blindly accept things the way they are. They need to ask questions.’

  Kuja leapt to his feet. ‘Father! Listen to me! I don’t care — I don’t care if my brothers and sisters can fall in love because it’s the right time. I don’t care if people like Zareth Sins can now challenge the status quo. You did all this in the worst and nastiest way possible — Mum would have hated you for it!’

  The oldest being in the universe pressed two fingers to his lips, viewing his son with timeless patience, as though he was watching a glacier slowly melt. ‘I will not explain my grand design to you. It would only incense you further and it is not your place to know.’

  Kuja kicked his chair again. This time it flew out of sight. ‘Fuck you!’

  ‘Kuja, I suggest you go to Fei and be honest about who you are,’ the Ine told him gently. ‘You will be very happy with her.’

  ‘Stop deflecting me!’ Kuja cried. ‘Are you going to tell your children they can know love or will I have to do it?’

  ‘Would it not give you great pleasure to lord it over Fayay, that you succeeded where he never dared to try?’

  Kuja backed away from the Ine, horrified. ‘Cruel and petty. I think I understand where Fayay gets those attributes from. He didn’t get them from our mother. I’m so glad she left you in the end. How did you not see that coming?’

  The Ine’s expression darkened, though it was hard to tell at first because he was fading away as he returned to oblivion. ‘Your brother is right. There is so much more to it than love. Understanding, support and honesty…these things are paramount.’

  Within moments Kuja was alone, invisible walls pressing in around him. Scowling, he turned and walked through one of them. This led him directly to the columned entrance where his siblings awaited his return. All of them were there now, not just the ones Finara had gathered to stop him. They stared at the Rforine, their faces filled with awe. Fayay kept to the rear of the pack — he would not attack Fei now, not when the Ine himself would punish him. But that was cold comfort to Kuja.

  ‘It’s allowed, so long as we don’t neglect our duties,’ Kuja said, clenching his fists, letting vines twist around his forearms. ‘And Fayay has no right to come after our chosen spouses. We can balance relationships with our work, just like the mortals do. Happy now? Happy that you get to have what I fought for handed right to you? You better hope Father lets you fall in love without making some lesson out of it. He tends to choose who we’re drawn to. As if we can’t make our own decisions!’

  He began storming towards the exit. He could have teleported away, but it felt good to stamp his feet into the ground, to make his knees ache and his calves burn. He deserved this discomfort. He was a liar. And he had no intention of telling Fei the truth.

  He loved her, loved the unique connection they shared, but the mind-reading ability the Ine had bestowed upon her wasn’t a gift. It was a curse. Because if Kuja was ever careless with his thoughts, even for a moment, she would realise what he was. And she would leave him.

  ‘She’ll never know,’ Kuja vowed.

  Even when she begins to show no signs of ageing? the Ine’s distant voice asked. The binding ceremony will confer your immortality onto her, my son. She deserves to know before you do this.

  Kuja ignored him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Fei stood very still, a cup of tea tilting at a dangerous angle in her hand. She hadn’t heard Kuja walk in and he hadn’t knocked on the door, but this was his hut and he probably had no reason to expect to find her waiting inside for him. She was the one who didn’t belong here, even though Inesh had insisted she did when she’d arrived a few hours ago, her rapid, anxious breaths practically choking her.

  Inesh had approved of the strapless pink dress she was wearing and she suspected it wasn’t just because he was trying to being nice. Fei had hoped to impress someone else with it and now he was here. Except she suddenly had no idea what to say to him.

  ‘Kuja,’ she whispered. ‘I…um…’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, answering her question before she could even ask it. He swept to her, folding her into his embrace. ‘I’m here forever. If both of you will have me.’

  ‘How…’

  ‘How do I know that you carry our son inside you?’ He drew back to smile at her. ‘I just do. We both made terrible decisions that led to this. But I don’t care. I only care about being with you.’

  Fei’s eyes darted over to the door then back to him again. ‘But you seemed pretty sure I’d be in danger if you stayed with me. I saw the fear in you. And I saw this strange man while I was in Atsa and he…he made chills run down my spine.’

  Kuja cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her lips. ‘We don’t need to fear my family. I dealt with them. And that strange man? I fought him and won. No one can keep us apart anymore. No one.’

  ‘You fought for me?’ A wet lump formed in her throat.

  ‘And I always will,’ he vowed.

  Her cup fell to the ground, tea spilling across the dirt as Kuja scooped her up in his arms and carried her outside. The nearby villagers stopped to watch, their broad grins nowhere near a match for Kuja’s own. Fei laughed as he began to jog, his impatience getting the better of him.

  ‘Shouldn’t I be treated like fragile goods in this state?’ she mock-sternly asked Kuja.

  ‘Fei, you are the exact opposite of fragile and you know it!’ he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. ‘But don’t worry. Nothing will trip me. Not here.’

  She believed him. It wasn’t just confidence she sensed from him; it was certainty.

  ‘Kuja, do you ever wonder why we can see into each other�
�s minds?’ she asked as he effortlessly navigated the uneven path, passing the area where TerraCorp’s two consecutive laboratories had floated. The company had left Bagaran weeks ago. ‘It drives me mad, not knowing why…maybe it’s a gift from Bagara for our loyalty to him…’

  Kuja’s dimples began to resemble jagged craters. ‘I don’t want to give it much thought. I’d just prefer to think of us as…lucky. That’s it. Lucky.’

  ‘It’s a gift,’ Fei said, smiling up at the light-laden canopy. ‘So that we can always understand each other.’

  Kuja’s arms grew rigid around her, potent fear building layer upon layer inside his mind. Fei couldn’t see what was causing it, but she didn’t pursue the matter. She had a feeling he wasn’t ready to explain — and she found herself oddly content to wait for him to do so. His thoughts warmed in response to her decision.

  A gift, Fei repeated, brushing tears of joy from her eyes.

  Kuja didn’t agree, but he didn’t correct her either.

  By the time they reached the waterfall his smile was back in full force. Moisture sprayed gently over their faces as Kuja kissed her, again and again, until her knees grew too weak to support her. He pressed her onto the mossy ground and pillowed his hands behind her head, gazing down at her adoringly. Fei supposed her answering grin must have looked just as silly. But she didn’t care, not when she could gasp his name as he slid inside her, not when they could become one again.

  Fei leaned her head on his shoulder afterwards, her fingers swirling over his skin, drawing the streams of code that were flooding through her mind. She suddenly needed to be in Kuja’s hut, where she’d left her techpad, so she could start making notes about all the other programs that the newly formed Yalsa Industries would need. There was so much to do before Bock’s scientists gave her their data.