The Ryle of Zentule

by Michael Green

  “You don’t remember what happened?” Letty asked in an attempt at seriousness that came out more like nervousness.

  “Tina, what is she talking about? My head is all foggy—probably because it’s two in the morning!”

  Letty’s mother put the kettle on the stove and glanced up, “I don’t remember anything either. Letty, if you wanted to have a party you could have asked; drugging us was not necessary. And you should have invited more friends.”

  “I didn’t know what it was they gave you, but you weren’t acting right for a long time,” Letty improvised.

  “What! Who gave us what? From the top, Letty,” Jim said, rounding on her sternly.

  “People showed up at the door, you let them in. I wasn’t home yet, but I came back with Staza and Quill, they’re homeless right now, and we—”

  Tina’s jaw dropped, “You two are homeless?”

  Their eyes widened as Letty’s story became more and more fantastic. “Does that explain why he’s wearing my shorts?” Jim asked, just noticing.

  Quill and Staza slowly nodded.

  “Staza’s wearing my clothes too,” Letty added.

  “What happened? Are your parents okay?” Tina rushed over and sat next to them.

  “We don’t know our parents,” Staza said.

  “We can’t go back home right now,” Quill elaborated.

  “Of course not. Oh, God, and I asked if I knew your mothers.” She rung her hands. “You can stay with us for as long as you need.” She looked at her husband and said, “Jim, say you agree.”

  Jim looked suspicious. “Your home closed? Was that the one a few blocks over—St. Martines?”

  Letty spoke before Quill or Staza had a chance, “No, they’re from Fulton House, the orphanage past my school.”

  Jim’s brow rose. “Right—they did shut that place down. You poor kids—wait. Lysette, back up a bit. You said there were people here and they drugged us with something?”

  “Yeah, I was trying to get to that,” she huffed. “We showed up and scared them away. It was a man and a woman. They were dressed like business people, and they were going through everything. They moved all the furniture, look.” Letty pointed at the table, chairs, and decorations on the mantle.

  “God, they have moved everything,” Tina said, mortified.

  Her parents made a run through the apartment and continued finding more things out of place.

  “I can’t find my purse.”

  “My wallet’s missing too,” Jim added. “Did you call the police?” he asked Letty.

  Letty recalled placing their belongings in her bedroom.

  “No, but that’s the whole point. We can’t call the police,” Letty said, looking at Staza and Quill. “They are supposed to be somewhere else, another orphanage on the other side of the city, but the school year is almost over. They can’t just leave.”

  “The police probably won’t believe that you scared the thieves away on your own, Lysette,” Tina said, looking at Jim hopefully. “The police won’t believe her story and the only witnesses are missing children.”

  Jim still wore a disapproving grimace.

  “Whatever drug they gave us wore off. Luckily, no one was hurt, but we need to cancel all the credit cards, and I still think we should still file a police report. I understand why you didn’t call the police, Lysette, but your friends should get back to their orphanage.” Jim concluded.

  “What’s an orphanage?” Staza asked, whispering.

  “A place for homeless kids,” Letty replied.

  “We can sort all that out in the morning,” Jim said, getting back on track. “About these two, I think it’s clear,” he paused and soaked up the anxious looks from everyone in the room. “Your mother is right. They should stay with us, for now at least. The condition being, if anything strange happens again, the police are getting involved. If this was a one-time set of coincidences that’s fine, otherwise, they leave.”

  Everyone seemed pleased, everyone barring Tina, who instantly shot up from the couch. “Where are we going to put them?” She stared at Quill seriously. “The girls will sleep in Lysette’s room, and you’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Letty and the Caspians stared at each other, unsure how to respond.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” Staza said, nudging Quill. “We won’t forget it.”

  “A-absolutely,” Quill stammered, “I’ll be as silent as a mouse.”

  Letty and Staza gave him an annoyed look.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Tina said, staring at him crossly. “I might just tie a bell to your neck, young man.”

  “He’ll be fine, mom.”

  “He’d better be, or it’s the boot,” Jim said, firmly resolute.

  The kids shrunk under the silent stares of the adults.

  Finally, Tina broke the silence, “I think they get it, dear,” she said, before blurting out, “Bedding—I don’t think we have enough—Jim, check the hall closet. And make sure the front door is locked! We don’t want those people coming back—my God, so much in one day! At least no one’s hurt!”

  Letty, Quill and Staza all shared a concerned look as the adults left the room.

  “Did that go over well or not?” Quill asked.

  “You won’t freeze tonight or starve tomorrow. So, there’s that,” Letty said, grinning.

  The Caspians both wore expressions that Letty had never seen before.

  What are they feeling right now? What am I feeling? It’s all too strange. These two are right out of another world, and now they’re wearing my clothes, and sleeping here tonight.

  For a moment, she felt afraid at how normal they looked, dressed like anyone, and sitting on her couch.

  But there’s something about them. Something in their eyes. They’re wild.

  Staza reached out and hugged her. Letty nearly recoiled, startled by the sudden contact.

  “It’ll be fine,” Staza said, releasing Letty. “Just be clearer about the conventions up here. They think that Quill is in danger of breaking some rule.”

  Letty laughed. “Don’t worry about them… I’m more concerned about you two.”

  Staza and Quill sighed.

  “Just don’t kill anybody while you’re here,” Letty said.

  “Not unless they try to kill us first,” Quill added in a reassuring voice.

  Staza nodded her agreement.

  Letty rolled her eyes. There’s going to be a problem, but I can’t keep an eye on them every second. They aren’t stupid; they won’t just attack people, but if someone senses how foreign they are and tries to rob them, there will be broken bones at least.

  Less than an hour later, everyone was in bed, barring Jim, who patrolled the hall one last time. Letty heard her parent’s door open and close as he finally surrendered his post.

  Letty looked over at her clock and saw how late it was.

  Sunrise in a few hours.

  The sleeping bag on her bedroom floor rose and fell with the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep.

  Everything was calm, and her thoughts drifted back to Andy. She shivered.

  How can I relax in a warm bed, while he’s gone? He’s in hell, and I have the Argument.

  She bit her cheek to keep from crying.

  I don’t even know how to get there.

  She rolled over and shuddered, the fatigue slowly working her to sleep.

  I’m a terrible person. He found me, but there’s nothing I can do tonight. I’ll start tomorrow. No—they’ll take me to school tomorrow. I’ll skip class…Andy found a way…he got there. I can too.

  Frustration finally gave way to exhaustion, and Letty slept.

  Chapter 3

  Zentule

  Andy was falling. He opened his eyes but there was nothing to see.

  A small speck of light appeared. It grew. In moments the speck was blinding. His mind sensed something, yet, before grasping that rogue thought, he came to rest on a soft surface.

  Andy shot up.
He was in his room.

  He stood and felt the floor creak. He bent and looked under the bed. There were no mice.

  The Infiniteye was no longer on his ceiling.

  Andy rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear the delirium.

  I was somewhere else… wasn’t I?

  Andy left his room and was surprised to see his parents on the couch. They were crying in each other’s arms.

  What’s happened?

  Andy stood still. He felt his head spinning.

  He walked up to his parents, but they refused to see or hear him.

  There was something not right about their faces.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad, are you guys okay?” Andy asked.

  His father met his glance, but instead of the calm and reassuring face he expected, there was something cold.

  Andy recoiled and crashed into the coffee table.

  His father stood, his movement almost mechanical, and approached.

  Andy scrambled away. He ran to the front door and burst through onto the sidewalk.

  This is wrong.

  He looked up.

  The sky’s wrong too.

  It was plain white. The buildings were like sketches. He shook his head, and the details filled out as his eyes scanned the horizon. Everything was flawed, incomplete, and jarring. Andy sensed that he had experienced something like this before.

  He felt weight in his hand. Looking, he saw his backpack strap resting in his palm. His mind wrenched, as if overcome by the need to fall asleep and wake up all at once. Moments later, the sensation left, and he felt the sudden urge to rush to the bus stop.

  Andy sighed and put the backpack on.

  He walked to the bus stop and waited for only a moment before the school bus rolled around the corner. It stopped, and he boarded.

  That was close. I was almost late.

  He looked from face to gawking face.

  What’s wrong with everyone? Is it me? Are my eyes that bad?

  Dean was there. He looked normal, and Letty as well, but the others were distorted. Their hair seemed flatter, almost painted or made from plastic. Faces were too smooth and lacked their dimples or blemishes. These changes were so fine that Andy doubted himself, doubting that anything was wrong.

  He spoke to Letty, “Hey, will you come and sit with me?”

  She looked torn between insulting him and getting up.

  “Look, I think there’s something wrong here, are you feeling it too?” Andy asked.

  “The only thing wrong is you talking to us,” Emma said, confusion on her face.

  Andy looked out the window and saw the bus was moving, though he hadn’t felt it accelerate.

  One time, the bus drove off while I was still standing. I fell over and skinned my elbow.

  “This is wrong,” Andy said. “It’s like a dream.”

  The bus disappeared, and all the students fell to the floor. The buildings became translucent. Inside every apartment and behind every wall, Andy spotted ryle. Hundreds of them.

  He fumbled for the Argument but couldn’t find it.

  Each ryle looked his way.

  Andy spun about; in every direction there were dozens more. They slowly got to their feet.

  He saw turning knobs, and others walking down hollow stairs. They were moving towards him.

  He looked for Letty and Dean, but they were gone. All the students were gone.

  This isn’t real! Andy tried to make himself believe it.

  The ryle approached. He heard steps behind him and spun around again. The street was full. They all raised their right hands in perfect unison, their inky claws shining as they moved his way.

  He felt something on his shoulder and spun to lash out. But nothing was there.

  Andy heaved in breath and opened his eyes.

  He was in bed. Andy shot up and felt the floor creak.

  “This is fake. This is like the Juncture again. I know this is fake!” he yelled.

  There was a sudden flash and his room disappeared. Pressure hurt his ears and he felt like he was being pulled backwards, up from the bottom of a pool, until he finally reached the surface.

  He heard a female screaming. He opened his eyes, but everything was blurry. He saw a shape contorted in agony. Its hands were clawing at its face, and it was screaming.

  Andy felt his ears pop worse than they ever had. His face was sweaty, and his head hurt like he had just been cracked with a bat.

  There was a purple and silver orb floating above his face. He tried to move, but restraints pressed against his arms and legs.

  The screaming continued and then gave way to a wretched voice. “I can’t do the surface; I’ve never seen it!”

  Andy’s vision cleared, and he realized the creature reminded him of Martin.

  An ychoron?

  Ziesqe had a single finger laid against the ychoron’s forehead. It wore something that looked like a full-body piece of metallic clothing. It reminded him of what an artistic jeweler might create if one commissioned a swim suit made from necklaces.

  Andy stopped staring at the odd clothing long enough to see that the creature was tearing its feathers out. It shook with pain, but continued to mutilate itself, as if the alternative was worse.

  “Off!” Ziesqe’s voice thundered through the room.

  It shook its head and begged. “The Seer has resistance; it even knows about the junctures. I’ll try again!” She screamed.

  The door opened and other ychorons appeared. They were also wearing jewelry harnesses, though each was unique.

  Ziesqe reached out and tore the jeweled harness off the offending ychoron and threw it to the ground.

  The ychoron crumbled to the floor in a torrent of weeping.

  The others rushed into the room and took her away. One stayed to clean up the small pile of multi-colored, bloody feathers scattered across the floor. The faces of the other ychorons were neutral, but there was tension there, as if they had practice at remaining blank.

  Ziesqe walked to a window and looked out. Flashing light from beyond played across his fleshy, tentacled face. The last ychoron left the room and closed the heavy stone door, leaving Andy alone with Ziesqe.

  Ziesqe’s fingers tapped, as if in time with some thought. He nodded his head, tilting it this way and that, before finally turning towards the bed. Andy reflexively closed his eyes.

  Ziesqe’s footsteps came closer and closer, until Andy sensed the ryle was standing only inches away.

  “Look at you,” Ziesqe murmured. “An ancient artifact, renewed, alive and breathing. You’re putting my best dowsers through their paces. This isn’t the first failure, but this is the first time you overcame the suppression. If I were human, I would likely apologize for what you witnessed moments ago.”

  Andy opened his eyes. Ziesqe stared at him placidly, his claws grasping a bedpost.

  “But you can see what I am. I will not speak untruth. That unpleasantness is a sign by which you might divine your future.”

  Ziesqe paused, as if expecting a question or plea. When none came, he continued, “I was hoping for a few lucrative years of experimentation with you, a committed seer. It seems that you know more than you should. Explain.”

  Andy looked away.

  Ziesqe chuckled and placed a clawed finger on Andy’s forehead. The sound of it echoed in his mind and a sudden pain shot up behind his eyes. Andy clenched his teeth and pulled away as hard as he could, but the pain only ceased when Ziesqe removed his finger.

  “Our arrangement is a simple one. You must not annoy me. Use whatever faculties you possess to achieve this end, and, from the start, realize that the inverse of this pointless resistance is even more tiresome.”

  Andy gulped.

  “If you succeed in not annoying me, I will reward you with the continued existence of your kin. I shall repeat myself for emphasis: Do as I wish, and those you love will survive. These are simple terms. Do your best to never need reminding.”

  Andy stared at t
he ceiling. I need to focus. If I keep this monster occupied until he gets bored with me, I’ll be protecting my family. If I do this, it might keep Letty safe.

  “I—”

  Ziesqe tapped him with a claw for silence. “We’ll take the air first—have a leisurely stroll, and determine if you can be acclimated. I have seen a number of your kind lose their simple minds only moments after awakening. There is more than just physical danger here.” Ziesqe tapped him again with a claw. “Think like you never have before, Seer. Cleave to that which survives, and nothing else. Smother the weak and squeamish, false certainties that infest surface existence. Take account of your morality, of your ignorance, and of your lauded humanity. You must purge yourself of such caprice. If you win this war with yourself, you might endure to enjoy the comfort of hiding beneath sheets once more.”

  Ziesqe left the room, and, moments later, more ychorons appeared. They bore clothes. Andy was unchained and then groomed by several feathered arms. The tickling feathers made him sneeze, but they held him still as he did so. They brushed and trimmed his hair, and sponged the grime away. They measured him and altered his silken undergarments. Andy stepped behind a screen to change, and was surprised when they laid out a chainmail suit. The rings of mail were quite fine. They seemed too small to be of any good.

  These won’t protect anyone.

  Andy tore at a piece of the mail to prove the point to himself and was surprised at its resilience.

  An ychoron grinned at the sight, but said nothing.

  Andy dared a look at the creatures. Their jewelry jangled as they worked. One took the shirt and motioned at him to put it on.

  Andy’s first instinct was to resist, but he thought better of it.

  “What’s the point of this?” He asked.

  The sudden question startled the ychorons. They were nervous, and none answered.

  They probably remembered what happened earlier, all those feathers. People everywhere are having their lives ruined because of me.

  Andy felt his stomach clench.

  That changes today. Even if it means I’m a slave for the rest of my life.

  Andy put the mail on. The ychorons provided belts and cinches that, when strapped on, made the weight of the armor almost disappear.