The moment they walked into the kitchen, Kolo’s mouth watered. Whatever was in the huge pot on the fire stove smelled fantastic. Then she noticed the person on a stool in the corner. They looked neither male nor female, or maybe they were both. Kolo stared and raised an eyebrow. “Are you a boy or a girl?”
The person scoffed. “Nobody’s business.”
Qila ignored the whole exchange. “Thanks for watching the stove, Rizval. It never boiled over, did it?”
“Nope.” Rizval crossed their legs. “And you’re welcome. It was about as riveting as watching paint dry. And hello, Azvalath. Good to have you back. The girls are like mosquitoes.”
Azvalath folded his arms. “Someone needs a sympathetic pat on the head with a hammer.”
“All right, I’m out of here.” Rizval shoved their way past Kolo.
Kolo flinched. Then she caught herself smiling again. These people were monsters, but the way they interacted, it was like watching a family. Qila looked down at her and smiled back. “Well, it looks like the stock is ready. Let’s add the main ingredients, shall we?”
Kolo nodded. She had already helped Qila prepare food a few times and she almost felt comfortable.
Azvalath stuck his head in the pantry. “These bulbs any good?”
“Are they moldy?” Qila asked.
“No,” said Azvalath.
“Then yes, they are.” Qila went over to stir the stock. Kolo took the whole scene in and laughed out loud. Two savage beasts in the kitchen. So mundane, so human.
“What’s so funny?” Azvalath asked. He came out with a sack of pungent-smelling roots and plopped it on the counter with a thud. One bulb fell out and rolled across the tiled floor.
She pointed her finger at him. “You’re a bad cook.”
Azvalath scowled. “Big thing for you to say.” He pulled a huge knife out of a drawer and chopped into one of the roots. Its odd-smelling juices spilled onto the cutting board.
“You’re just a man,” said Kolo. It was funny, really. She couldn’t not chuckle.
Qila came over and gave back the bulb Azvalath had dropped. “Did you really think he was anything else?”
“Children are inclined to make monsters out of things as small as mice.” Azvalath smacked the knife’s handle.
Kolo folded her arms. “I’m not a child.”
“Well, how old are you?” Azvalath asked.
Kolo shrugged. “I don’t know. How old are you?”
“About twenty five centuries.” Azvalath said it like it was nothing major.
Kolo’s jaw dropped. “Centuries?”
Qila was quick to interject. “All of those given the chance of becoming a Ferash Therall are distant descendants of the Iron God. You and Azvalath both have a little bit of his blood in you. Same with the others. It gives you a long life and your incredible gifts.”
Kolo looked at her hand and bent her fingers a little. “He’s our father?”
“More like your many-times-great grandfather. He has many descendants in our world. Most of them don’t live longer than anyone else or develop powers. Sometimes, though, they come out special,” said Qila.
“Special?” Azvalath shoved aside his chopped-up roots. “That’s one way to put it.” He ran back to the pantry. Kolo heard something fall in there and got startled.
“What about you?” Kolo asked. “Master?”
“I’m also kin to the Iron God,” said Qila. “But in a different way.”
Azvalath came out with a sack of dried mushrooms. “His kin by choice, right?” He grinned at Qila. Qila scowled at him. Kolo thought about asking what he meant but decided not to.
“Kolo, could you go in there and get us some peas?” Qila asked.
“And pine nuts,” Azvalath added.
Qila squinted at him. “Pine nuts?”
Azvalath shrugged. “Why not?”
“This is going to be one strange soup,” said Qila. “Sure, get some pine nuts.”
Kolo went to the pantry. Azvalath followed her. She looked at him and scowled. “I can get it myself.”
“The pine nuts are on the top shelf,” said Azvalath with a smirk.
“So what?” Kolo shrugged. She looked up and saw the only sack on the top shelf. Then, with her mind, she picked it up and dropped it, aiming for Azvalath’s foot.
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He caught it at the last second. “Right,” he said. “That’s something you can do.”
Kolo wanted to break him all over again, but she knew that would probably upset Master Qila. She didn’t want to know what that looked like. Kolo grabbed a bag of dried peas and strutted back out.
Qila smirked. “You’re proud of that little stunt, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hm.” Kolo handed her the peas. “Is that not allowed?”
“No, it is.” Qila went over and dumped some peas into the pot. The broth sizzled a little. She stirred them in, and steam erupted. “I’m actually quite happy that you seem to be getting more comfortable here.”
Kolo looked at her feet. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Why not?” said Azvalath.
She cocked her head and looked at him up and down.
Azvalath seemed to understand. “I know it was a horrifying experience, and really, I’m sorry we had to put you through it. Believe me when I say this was all for the best, though.” He cracked his knuckles. “You could have ended up somewhere far worse than here.”
Kolo wondered what that was supposed to mean. “Where would that be?”
Qila added the mushrooms and pine nuts. A sharp and woodsy aroma filled the kitchen. “We’re not the only Ferash Therall. In fact, we’re a tiny fraction of them.”
“Where are the others, then?” Kolo asked.
“Crawling all around the world. Usually in pairs or small groups.” Qila combed her fingers through her gray hair. “We’re considered mavericks by most.”
“Because they’ve all got sticks up their back ends.” Azvalath rammed the knife through one last bulb with a crunch.
“We’re less of fundamentalists than most Ferash Therall,” Qila clarified.
Kolo wound her necklace around her fingers. “And that makes you better?”
“Better or worse.” Qila turned to Azvalath. “Azvalath, could you get us some water to wash up?”
Azvalath rolled his eyes. “Don’t phrase it like a question if it’s an order.” He grabbed a bucket off the wall and left.
Kolo chuckled.
“He has such an attitude.” Qila scraped the chopped-up bulbs into a bowl and added them to the pot. “Not that I blame him. I find me annoying too, but I can’t ever walk away from myself, can I?”
For once, Kolo wasn’t mad at herself for the smile that wormed its way across her face.
Qila stirred the soup. “Let’s give this a while to brew. In the meantime, I think it’s time you met someone.”
Kolo looked up. “Who?”
“Master Xigon,” said Qila. “I was going to go see him anyway. Come along, then.”
Kolo followed Qila out. They walked down the hall in awkward silence. Kolo let her eyes light up. Their red glow illuminated the dark walls. They passed a few heavy-looking doors. Qila rapped her fist on one as they walked by. “You’re needed in the kitchen again, Rizval!”
Someone groaned on the other side. Kolo smirked.
Finally, they stopped at a door with a symbol carved into it. Three inverted triangles inscribed within each other. Qila knocked. “Xigon, I’ve brought someone to meet you.”
The voice on the other side of the door was calm and steady. “Come in.”
As they entered, a tingling sensation crawled up the back of Kolo’s neck. If he hadn’t been sitting, she knew he would have towered over them both. He sat cross-legged on the floor. In front of him was a burning oil lantern. Its warm orange light illuminated his face and glinted off his goggles. He looked up at Qila. “Is Azvalath all right?”
“As good as he can be in this situation,” said Qila.
Xigon ran a hand over his sleek black hair. Then he turned his gaze to Kolo. The instant their eyes met a shudder ripped through her. Though he looked much younger than Qila, she sensed his power and understood immediately why he, too, was called Master.
“Hello, little wonder.” Xigon beckoned her closer. “Kolo, is it?”
“Yes,” she said. The tremor was audible in her voice. She averted her eyes. “What are you doing? It feels strange.”
“Learning,” said Xigon. “About you.”
“He can sense and manipulate the processes of life,” Qila explained. “All with his eyes.”
Kolo grabbed Qila’s sleeve.
“I assure you you’re quite safe with me, Kolo,” said Xigon, unperturbed. “Is there anything you would like to know?”
Kolo thought about Azvalath’s question earlier. “How old am I?”
Xigon didn’t miss a beat. “Two hundred and thirty-seven years.”
Kolo’s jaw dropped. She glanced at Qila and saw that even she looked surprised.
“You stopped aging in early adulthood,” Xigon continued. “Though your growth, both physical and mental, was stunted by sickness and hunger. Do you ever remember being sick?”
“No,” said Kolo. At least, she didn’t think so. “I do remember being hungry, though.”
“There’s a lot you’ve shut away in your struggle to survive,” said Xigon. He pointed to his head. “A lot up here. But it’s already starting to come back.”
“It is?” Kolo asked.
“Of course,” said Xigon. “Obviously. You aren’t trying to kill me right now. You’re starting to understand that maybe we aren’t your enemies after all.”
Kolo tapped her foot. “Could I really have ended up somewhere worse?”
Xigon picked his lantern up and held it in front of his face. It swung gently back and forth on his fingers. “Absolutely,” he said. “And I have no doubt they’ll be coming for us soon. Once the world knows you’re here, it’s only a matter of time.”
“You really think they would dare to attack us here?” Qila scoffed. “Kolo might be important in ways we don’t realize yet, but there’s no way anyone would…”
Kolo clutched her necklace.
Xigon noticed her grab it. “Tell me, Kolo, where did you get that necklace?”
Kolo shrugged. “I don’t know. It keeps ghosts away.”
“I’m sure it does,” said Xigon. “Lightningfisher teeth are supposed to be lucky. It may have done far more for you than you realize.”
Kolo rubbed the smooth fang between her fingertips. Maybe he was right. She could be somewhere far worse at this very moment. Confused and dead were two very different things. She knew which one she preferred. Xigon snuffed the lantern out and set it down. “And yes, Qila, I did fix my crutches.” He grabbed them off the floor and started to pick himself up.
“Did you sleep, though?” Qila asked.
Xigon stood up, and indeed, he towered over them. “None of your business.” He made his way toward the door and yanked it open. There was a sound like stampeding horses as Channei and a huge, muscular woman ran down the stairs.
“Hey, look!” The brutish girl pointed past Xigon. “It’s Kolo! Oh, hello Master Xigon. We, um, wanted to say hello to Kolo. Rizval said she was in the kitchen.”
“No running in the hall, Lalek.” Xigon said it without any noticeable anger. “You wouldn’t want to break something again, would you?”
Kolo peeked her head out around Xigon. “Hel…hello” she stammered.
Channei clapped her hands in excitement. “Look at you! You’re up and at it again.”
Kolo took a step back.
“My only question is, why hang out with the Masters? They’re boring,” said Channei.
Xigon and Qila looked at each other. Then he looked down at Channei. “Really? I like to think I’m quite fascinating. By all means, though, give Kolo some more interesting company.”
“Come on, then!” Lalek tugged Kolo’s arm and nearly yanked her shoulder from the socket.
Kolo stumbled forward and shook her arm free. “All right, I’ll come! I’d like to have two arms, though.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Lalek backed away.
“How dare you almost break the new friend?” Channei elbowed Lalek. “For shame! Let’s go upstairs.”
Channei ran up the stairs. Lalek followed. After a second, Kolo followed as well. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t feel as afraid as she ought to be.