“I haven’t decided. But I did come here to find you. I need your help.” She glanced back at the coffee shop. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”
“Yes,” he said, bowing his head slightly, his lavender eyes never leaving her face. He told her his drink preference, and she went to order it. In Yaso culture, it was traditional for someone to show their interest by offering a drink. She’d learned that during her time with Elan. He’d given her many drinks before she realized that was what he was saying—water, coffee, kasé, wine, beer. There were moments when they laughed together at how long it took for them to figure out that was what they were saying.
When she returned with his drink, he stood and took it from her, then he brushed both her cheeks with his lips in greeting. “We never did that,” he said. “Thank you for this.”
He sat back down and together they were silent while he drank his kasé. The sailboats were returning to land and men and women began to fill the wharf. Most of them were human or Constie, but there were a few Druiviin as well.
“This is more than just a social call, Holly. Do I understand that right?”
She shifted in her chair and watched his face as she responded. “You have a life here. I envy it. I wouldn’t blame you if what I’m going to ask you to do is not something you want to do at all.”
“Just tell me what it is, Holly,” he said.
So she explained what it was she wanted him to do. Go with her to the Ixion base, help get the children off and onto the tanker, and then, once they were back on Kota, she needed someone to manage the children as they found their homes.
Elan watched her and she returned his scrutiny with her own. His expression darkened at the revelation that there were children being used the way the Shadow Coalition was using them. He asked questions about how this was discovered, why the Centau were doing nothing, what Holly planned to do with the Coalition once she got the children away from them.
Holly answered his questions as well as she could without committing to something she couldn’t promise.
“You’re right that I don’t want to leave what I’ve established here.”
Her hopes sank. “Is there nothing I can say to convince you?”
“I didn’t say no, Holly.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“When must you know what my choice is?” Elan asked.
“I have two, perhaps three days before I have to leave.”
“Does that mean you can stay?” He asked, giving her a sly smile.
Her stomach did somersaults. “Is there a hotel or an, I don’t know, an inn or something?”
“There’s a room at my home.”
“But no inn?”
“There’s an inn, if that is what you prefer. You know what I prefer.”
If that was what he preferred, why didn’t he look for her when he was in the city during her trial?
“When do you need to know what I decide? About where I stay?”
He smiled. “As long as it takes.”
20
Rochers Deshiketes was not a city, it was, rather a village. There were two main streets that crept up into the tree covered foothills and ended against the wall of dense forest. They strolled through the streets that had little auto traffic. Most of the residents walked or rode bicycles. Elan carried the bucket of fish and led her uphill to the second street.
The residents lived in A-frame homes made of stone and hardwoods that were built around heating pits that contained aether. The pits gave off enough heat to keep the large, three-roomed houses warm in what Holly imagined were brutal winters. The pits were also visually interesting, giving the room a focal point. Elan’s had a deep sofa with faux furs and blankets knit from thick cords of yarn. For one person, his home was large. They passed through the interior to reach the yard in the back.
Green fingers extended out of foothill forest around the edge of his yard, giving it privacy. There was a small footbridge over the narrow part of the pond. She watched as Elan crouched, removed the lines from the mouths of the fish, and then dumped the water as well as the fish into the pond. They scattered upon hitting the water. Holly laughed.
“Sometimes I name them,” Elan admitted, rising.
“And then eat them? Sounds twisted,” Holly said.
He laughed. “No. In that case I take them back to Eau Verte and set them free. I can’t eat something I’ve bonded with.”
“So for all you know, you’ve caught the same fish many times?”
He gave her a look. “I think I would know. Once I’ve grown to love something, I never forget it.”
Holly returned his gaze, certain that he meant more than just fish. His declaration made her feel as though she’d been punched in the stomach. She turned and strolled across the small footbridge to avoid the accusation she saw in his eyes. There was a stone bench as well as a circular bed of sand with smooth volcanic stones arrayed in it, and a long-handled rake resting against the trunk of a red-leafed tree with undulating branches and serrated leaves that was a foot taller than Holly. “Is this how you meditate?” she asked, picking up the rake.
“There are things from Earth that align well with Yasoan practices. That is one of them. I’ve mixed it with my own principles. It’s very syncretic.”
“I can see that.”
“Shall I show you?” He asked, holding out his hand for her to put the rake in.
She obliged. His lavender eyes were slightly serious with only a hint of humor in them.
He stepped into the ring, rearranged the rocks at the edge of the circular bed, and placed one right in the center. Then he stood upon the rock he’d placed in the center, balanced, and raked concentric circles around himself, alternating foot to foot, balancing on one at a time, using the rake to turn his body. “Yaso believe the circle is the most harmonious shape. But, they also believe that it is only admirable to achieve balance in the midst of great stress. I test myself and my balance by making it harder. I lose myself in the creation of the concentric circles. Only then is true harmony arrived at.”
His movements were smooth. What he was doing appeared easy, but she knew that was only because he’d practiced it.
He finished with the circles, then leapt gracefully to the edge to stand beside Holly. “Would you like to try?” He offered her the rake.
“I feel meditative from just watching you do it.”
Elan gave her a small smile. “If you stay with me tonight, Holly, the only house rule is that you cannot sit out and watch. The home of Elan Zephyr is a place to strive to reach harmony with what cannot be changed, to align the self with the wishes of the Universe and to experience, above all else. Experience.”
She laughed and looked back at the tracks he’d made in the sand. “Experience. I see. Any sort of experience?”
“We were created to interact with the environment. You can choose the experiences you want to have.”
She listened, and avoided his look. Her gaze sank to the nearby pond. She watched the fish swimming and wondered if Elan had always been this way or if he’d become this in response to something. She wasn’t egocentric enough to believe that it had been her. However, a tiny piece of her did wonder if it was over what had occurred with them. She would not ask him, however. That would show her cards. She’d already asked him why he hadn’t chosen to come see her during her trial and he hadn’t answered. That smarted. But she could let it be.
I am here for the children. Nothing more. Elan would be an amazing addition to the team. He has a calming nature, and I want that for the children. They’ll need it after the shit they’ve been through. She had to keep reminding herself. The qualities she was drawn to in Odeon were also present in Elan, only Odeon had trained himself more towards being a warrior, embracing the rogue-like qualities in himself. At the moment Holly had a difficult time imagining Elan fighting.
“I will do that,” she said quietly. She wasn’t ready to talk about her experiences or focus on pickin
g what mattered to her at the moment. “Choose my experiences. Thank you.”
Elan squinted up at the sun which was almost to its zenith. “Are you hungry?”
A change of subject. Holly sighed in relief. “Yes. I would love to eat something.”
“Let’s go inside and I’ll make you a meal.”
She followed him along the path that meandered through his yard. Birds sang from boughs in the evergreens. A soft wind gently moved the trees with its wide hands. The sound was like distant water running through a narrow gorge. The crisp scent of pine and fresh earth permeated the air. The place was so peaceful, Holly could see why Elan didn’t want to leave. She wondered if she would want to leave. The urge to run tickled her mind, but she knew that was due to the discomfort of all the unspoken things. Without them, there would be no resistance. She would stay forever.
“Normally I make sanshi rolls, a cross between the ssayeku grain from Yaso and sushi from Earth. Would you like that?”
“That sounds amazing. No raw animals, however.”
“Tofu? The human favorite alternative to meat?”
“Tofu is perfect.”
From inside the glass door off the patio, Elan stopped and looked at her. He took her hand in his and touched it to his cheek. With his eyes closed, he sighed. “It is nice to have someone here with me. You, Holly Drake.”
The movement and confession took her by surprise. She stepped back when he let go of her hand, blinked, and stuttered.
“Don’t say anything. It isn’t necessary. I only wanted you to know what I feel. Now, let me make you lunch. And then I have to go back out on the lake. You may join me for that if you wish.”
* * *
After Elan rolled the vegetables, fruit, and tofu into the thin paper made from ssayeku, they sat at his kitchen counter and ate together. The things they didn’t say weighed on Holly. Was I just a fling? Was that why he never came back to see her? Why he had avoided seeing her while he was in the city during her trial?
And why couldn’t she just ask him?
She knew the answer to that one: it was because she conducted a conversation about it with him in her head, going so far as to finish it with a terrible pronouncement—yes, she was just a fling, and that was why she couldn’t bring herself to ask it. She felt certain that her extrapolations from his behavior were evidence of what he felt.
But if she had just been a fling, why was he living in Rochers Deshiketes, fishing and living a monastic life?
“You look troubled, Holly,” Elan said. He was done eating. They’d exhausted the conversation about what it was like to live in the small village. Holly now knew the local gossip—which people were using illegal bait (Consties), who was threatening to open a competing wharf cafe (a human) because the current owner (a Druiviin) refused to stock and sell tea, and the price wars that went on for those who sold fish to the southern settlements.
“I am, a bit,” she admitted.
“Well, you needn’t worry about it, if that’s your concern. My needs here are minimal. Even if I have to settle for a lower price, I’ll still be able to make ends meet.”
“It isn’t that. Your life here looks perfect. I can see why you don’t want to leave. I wouldn’t want to leave either.” She pushed her plate aside. “That was amazing. Thank you for making it.”
“Sharing a meal with you that I made is something I have dreamed of often, for a long time. What then, is bothering you? Will you tell me?”
Hearing that, she knew that it couldn’t be her fear, then, that kept him away. She must not have been a fling. But what, then?
“Elan,” she said softly, shaking her head, fighting against the questions that burned in her.
“What?” He leaned close.
“Why didn’t you come see me? What happened before between us—what was it to you? Was I just another lover in a long line of lovers?” If that was what she was, it would hurt to hear it. But at least she would know.
“No. You weren’t. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“Prison, my trial? That was the second lowest point in my life. The first was when you left.”
“You sent me away, you mean.” He blinked, his lavender eyes suddenly hard.
“Because I was married to a monster. He had a gun. If he found out about you, he would have killed you.”
“But you killed him,” Elan said, quietly.
“Is that why you never came to see me during the trial? Because I’m a murderer?”
“Not a murderer, no. You saved yourself.”
“Was that wrong?”
He shifted and averted his gaze. “I still don’t know.”
Holly leaned away from him, aghast. No one had expressed that sentiment to her. The only person who thought it, as far as she knew, was herself. Hearing it on Elan’s voice sucked the wind from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.
She stood and teetered away, the air crushed from her lungs. She went to his sofa and leaned forward on her arms, clutching the back in her fingers, trying to draw air into her lungs.
“Holly? Holly?” Elan said, also rising and following her. He put his hand on her shoulder and began to hum, then drifted into song. He’d never done this for her. Her body responded with endorphins that coursed through her and calmed her.
“You think I’m a murderer,” she said, finally able to breathe. The calm clouded her. She couldn’t clarify what she thought, but she believed that she knew what he thought.
“No. Not a murderer. I don’t think that,” he said, stopping the song. “It isn’t you specifically. It’s my beliefs about what is morally correct. The Centau and Yasoan think they are better than everyone else. Something that I have always thought as well. But then I met you, Holly. And I fell in love with you. Knowing you the way I did changed me. You threw everything that I had previously believed into question. And then, when you sent me away, I was lost. I came here because I couldn’t live with the distractions of the City of Jade Spires, and I refused to sink myself entirely into what the Yasoan do when they are troubled—the ritualistic cleansing, the music therapy, the reinvention. I took what I believe can help me from the traditional culture and pieces of human culture.”
Holly turned to face him. “Why human? Maybe there is more to be had in the Centau or Constellation culture.”
“Human, because I fell in love with a human. If I could love a human, there must be something right about humans that I hadn’t seen before.”
His touch lingered on her shoulder. It was familiar. There was something in it—the past, the present, hope again.
“You don’t think I’m a monster? For killing Graf?” She inhaled sharply hearing herself say it.
“If there was someone monstrous, Holly, it was Graf.” His jaw clenched tight. “I have never wanted to kill. The only meat I partake of is fish. I sometimes set them free. But I wanted to kill Graf. I would see the bruises on your body. You know that I did. I wanted to heal you, to make you whole, to take you away from him. But you are free. And you believe the things that humans believe.”
“What things are those?”
He shrugged. He leaned his backside against the couch and removed his hand. She wondered if he did that because he knew that his touch artificially calmed her. “That you were obligated to the marriage. But in Yasoan culture, if one person in a marriage is treated the way Graf treated you, the contract is void and they can leave without an explanation. Marriage is not about property.”
“But marriage for humans hasn’t been about property for hundreds of years.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Yet people like Graf exist. Did he not treat you like property?”
“This doesn’t explain why you didn’t come to see me.”
He rose and moved away from her. She followed him with her gaze. “I still wasn’t sure what I thought about the violence.”
“Do you know now? Do you know what he did? Did you know why I did it? I need to know that you know what I faced the night
it happened.” Here she was, standing before the man who had saved her from the misery that had been her life during her marriage to Graf. She could face the idea that her mother had been disappointed with her choice to marry Graf and then for her to stay with him, she could accept that her father never liked Graf, she could face it that Meg hadn’t been able to stop the corruption that led to her serving prison time. Holly felt that she could be a disappointment to all those people that had always played integral roles in her life because she knew that they were bound to her by things deeper than connections she’d forged as an adult.
But not Elan. The desire to have his admiration, to feel his respect, to be a force that changed him, it overwhelmed her. This was why she’d come. Yes, she wanted his help with the rescue mission—which suddenly seemed so far away at the moment—but now she realized that this unfinished business was making her life feel half-lived.
He turned around. His gentle hands were crossed before him in a gesture of meekness. There was an intensity in his eyes that she thought she knew. He came to stand in front of her and took her in his arms.
“Tell me,” he said.
21
Morning on the lake wrapped Holly in a blanket of invigorating breezes and fragrances and tossed her back out into life with a strange hope in her heart. She sat in a chair on the deck of the sailboat. Elan dropped anchor and they sat with lines in the water, watching the sun rise beyond the eastern ridge. The lake was dotted with the brilliant sails of the other boats vying for the best positions for fishing.
Holly sipped hot tea from a special mug that Elan brought for the earlier hours. Coffee came later, and then kasé at noon. He showed her how to hook the bait, and then lower it into the water to reach the depths that the fish favored.
As they waited for the lines to jerk and dip, Elan told her about the blade fly, the larvae of which they used as bait. She listened, enjoying the relaxing morning.
The first stage of the fly, Elan told her, was the eggs on the needles of the evergreens that populated the mountain range. When the wind carried the eggs out over the water, they eventually sank into the water and became larvae. The larvae lived for months in the water, little nymphs that fed on the tiny marine animals. After a while the nymphs hardened into pupae. The pupae rose closer and closer to the surface until they emerged as flies. There were days when a billion flies hatched and rose above the lake in mating flights. They looked like swirling mists towering over the lake, mating in the air like dragons. Holly laughed when he said that. Dragons weren’t real. He told her that was debatable.
The Colossus Collection Page 62
