My wrist twists, the closed fist shooting out from my hip, and something about the way my muscles bend and contract ping as proper form. But I can’t say what form it is. I can only acknowledge the contact of my fist against a hanging green jaw and its head snapping back with a click.
The creature drops to the ground with a thud, unmoving, and the door in my mind swings shut.
…huh.
Lueraine steps forward. Her white eyes blink and her fingers flutter against my palm. “The Zhavleen is alive.”
“Well...that’s good I guess.”
Her gaze flickers up to me and now that we’re both standing it’s clear how much smaller she is. How old did the bird say she was? There were some words I didn’t understand. Hmm... Will it translate now? My gaze flickers to the creature unconscious on the floor.
Well...maybe now isn’t the time to ask.
“We should go get Wail.”
“Yes.”
"...how old are you?”
The little head tilts. “[Currently about seven years].”
That’s an interesting translation. Did they only count years in a general sense? What’s with the seven? And...how old am I?
I tug the little girl towards the cell opening and lift her gently over the body. I keep my eye on the man while retrieving my bag and after the strap is securely over my shoulder I move back toward the Jovlin to grab the stick. I try to tell Lueraine to hang back, in case he wakes up, but the little girl is having none of it, her hand still securely holding mine. It occurs to me, as I gingerly pull the white stick from the man’s belt, that the cold of Lueraine’s hand is the only thing keeping my palm from sweating. Convenient.
“Okay. Let's get out of here.” I tug the little girl toward the cave entrance and after a quick check in the other, empty, cells, we begin the trek up the tunnel slope. I step lightly, attempting to muffle the slap of my shoes against hardened soil. If someone hears us... but then, I'm not sure what I’ll do if someone appears.
I consider my fight with the Jovlin, if it could be called that. The sudden surge of muscle and the crack of my fist against bone, it'd been... instinctual. Yes, it was instinct. But as we slink upward through the tunnel, no amount of mental prodding will open the door.
“What are you called?” Lueraine’s voice is soft. It ripples in the space like a wave. I take a moment to consider.
I don’t know what my name is. Even after all this time it hasn’t come to me. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
“What do you want it to be?”
That question brings me up short and I pause in the tunnel to look down at the little girl. Her icy spikes sway gently, even as she stands still.
What did I want it to be? I hadn’t considered that.
Could I choose something? Did I want to? At the very least, it might be convenient to have a name that Lueraine and Wail could call me. I fish around in my brain for a moment, seeing if anything sticks out, when a noise catches my attention.
I flatten myself against the tunnel wall, pulling the child with me, and try to peek around the slight bend of the tunnel wall.
There’s a shuffle, then a grinding noise. I hold my breath, straining to hear if whatever, or whoever, it is will come closer. I grip the stick in my fist, fingers clenching and unclenching. The shuffle ebbs and flows. What if they came down here? Could I protect us? Would the door in my head blow open again? I didn't know, and that thought settled dread in the pit of my stomach.
A couple of minutes pass, the shuffling coming and receding, and each second my concern grows, because if we can't go up soon the Jovlin below may wake up, and then we'll be surrounded.
Lueraine does’t move beside me, and several quick glances show the white eyes focused on the far wall. I concentrate on the cold seeping from her hand into mine, letting it ground me.
Another minute and the shuffle recedes. It goes further this time, and I strain my hearing in both directions, my fingers flexing around the stick.
“I think…we’re safe." I whisper the words, eyes still trained on the slope. "Still, we should stay quiet just in case.”
Lueraine nods her head and I tug her further up the tunnel, moving even slower than before. I try to focus on the stick, to capture the feeling I had when the cloak powered up, but I can’t find the energy, let alone direct it.
We reach the fungal door with no other sounds carrying down from above. I lean my hand against it gently, listening for any nearby noise. Nothing stands out, and after another pause of hesitation I gently push it open.
Nothing. It’s the same empty root domes and soft moss on the forest floor.
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I crouch low and Lueraine mimics me. We close the fungal door behind us and shuffle away from the opening, rotating around the nearest dome until the tunnel is just out of view.
My gaze fixes on Lueraine and I muffle my voice against the collar of my cloak. “I’m not sure where we should go. Do you know where they took Wail?”
Lueraine’s head tips back and she looks up at the forest canopy. I follow her eyeline, taking in the large flowers at the top of the trees and the glowing particles falling in the air around us. “The neshutheel [healing tree] are mostly pollinating. The Zhavleens will be watching the process.”
“So Wail will be…wherever that’s happening?”
“No. His heat during this time could harm vulnerable flowers. They’ll keep him away. They may be…” Her head tilts and her eyes focus on a bit of moss at our feet. It's the narrowing of her eyes that give me pause. Is she… listening? “They’ve taken him further in.”
“Into the forest?”
The little head nods and she pulls me away from the dome, back towards the tunnel and over the roots of the tree. There are more domes on the other side of the trunk, dozens of them, and beyond that dozens more. Part way through the huddle of houses we pick up speed, thankfully muffling the sound of our steps in the thickening moss. I'm realizing how lucky we are that no one is here when we reach the end of the open expanse and the forest grows thick again. There would have been hundreds of Jovlins between us and Wail, and I couldn't imagine any instinctual punching getting us out of that situation. We burst back into muddled twists of thickening roots, Lueraine tugging me along without hesitation in her directions.
“Is it far?”
A blue finger is held up to blue lips and I nod in response. Finally, she slows to a stop near a particularly large root. Lueraine peeks over the top and I carefully crouch beside her.
There are Jovlins, about six, all standing around a stone pillar. White veins border the rectangular rock and every couple of seconds the white pulses a dull red.
Lueraine tugs at my hand and she points to the left.
There, lying on the ground with a white ribbon wrapped around him, is Wail.
The ribbon twists around the bulge of his stomach. An offshoot runs away from his prone form and along the ground for several yards before merging with the huddle of Jovlins. Wail’s veins pulse with the same dull red of the pillar. I watch it, shifting my gaze between him and the stone when I realize the timing of each pulse is perfectly synchronized.
“They are draining him,” Lueraine whispers.
It hits me as I study the white ribbon. He’s attached. They’re using him to power the pillar.
Rage flickers through me and everything inside of me wants to vault over the root and bash them over the head with my stick. But there’s six of them and two of us. I huff in frustration, my eyes pinched shut against the scene. What was I supposed to do? I can’t count on instinct. The door is practically welded shut.
The stick maybe? I pinch my eyes closed, pitching my attention towards the tensing of my muscles, the quickening breaths in my lungs. Where was the energy? Where was it?
There’s a noise, and I can’t figure out what it is at first. It almost sounds like a groan and when Lueraine tugs my hand I look up to see what it is.
The glow of Wail’s veins has dimmed. His rocky mouth is open, the pentagons parted and a low sound emanating from him. Out of one of his grey eyes a drop of liquid leaks down his cheek.
I grit my teeth and yank the bag off of my shoulder. Frustration pours through me. Could I get this bag to spit out something useful? Why can’t I get these things to work?! He’s hurting!
Suddenly, Lorraine grabs my hand, gripping the bag, and that same release from the tower pours through me. Did it…did something happen? I yank the bag toward me and peer inside. One of the small round objects sits in the bottom of the bag. I pull it out.
Lorraine’s eyes widen and she snatches it from my hands. Suddenly the item glows a bright blue and the child chucks it towards the gathering in a wide arch.
A huge shockwave blasts out from the item, rocking the area and blowing the gathering as well as Lorraine and I off of our feet. I tumble over the nearby roots and try to right myself as quickly as possible, struggling back to my feet.
The device in the center is blown apart and shards litter the clearing.
I vault over the root as fast as I can, pulling Lueraine with me. The nearest Jovlin is already stumbling to its feet, but it’s eyes are glazed and it immediately falls back to the moss.
I grab the ribbon around my rock child and yank it. It catches at first, wrapped around his torso and I push his round form, rolling him away from the pillar and unraveling the ribbon. He doesn’t move, just lies face first on the moss, the low groan still escaping his mouth.
“The [blue sand],” Lueraine says, and her hand actually releases from mine to grab the boulder and roll him onto his back.
I shove my hand in my pocket and pinch out several grains, nearly throwing them all into his mouth before I remember the bird’s warning in the city. Instead I carefully pick one off of my finger and shove the rest into my mouth, not wanting to risk fumbling the grains.
I swallow against the sweetness and ignore the following bitterness to drop the grain of blue sand into Wail’s mouth.
Immediately red flairs through his the veiny cracks between pentagons and the grey eyes flash. The rock swells, the veins widening, then contracts. The mouth snaps shut and Wail rockets forward onto his feet.
“Uee!”
I bark a laugh and grab the little guys arm, my other hand darting out to grab Lueraine’s. “Don’t have time for that, we gotta go!”
The flight through the forest is wild, and I trip several times holding onto my charges. At one point I release Wail and he rolls on ahead, guiding the way. Lueraine I scoop up into my arms, my pace faster than hers over the looping roots.
My lungs are burning again, as are my arms, but I don’t slow because at one point nearby cries cue me into the Jovlin’s pursuit. When I finally see the gate Wail is already touching the frame, the liquid inside the circle rippling to life.
“Quick, quick!” the boulder yells.
We nearly tumble through the gate, the momentary weightlessness vanishing to spit us out of the other side. I suck in a heaving breath, dropping to my knees and letting Lueraine regain her feet. My arms are burning along with my lungs, and I imagine I’m going to feel the strain in a couple of hours, but… we did it. We got away. I bark out a laugh.
Wail wobbles towards Lueraine, smile wide and clamps his stubby arms around her waist. Lueraine hesitates before resting her head over his and wraps her arms around him. It’s an awkward hug, but it’s clear that they’re close.
I look away from the scene to take in our surroundings. In front of me is a wide empty plane, mostly flat, with smatterings of different colors across the expanse. As far as I can tell the space goes on for miles, interrupted only by a single mountainous shape off in the distance, and stick out of it are a series of curving spikes. It’s strange to look at from here, but it reminds me of the dome shape of the city, except this is a mere skeleton, the shape on its back and jutting out from the mountain like monstrous arms reaching into the sky.
“Where are we?”
Lueraine’s voice is hushed, almost dissipating in the open expanse. “Fu᷾pe᷾lzhwelash [to go to a distant land].”