Before the sun was up, and the dozen or so Folk idlers crowded the apartment entrance, Izai was already awake. He downed a container of 24 eggs and ate four bowls of oatmeal.
“Get used to eating a lot,” Tai had told him. “You’ll be burning through a lot of calories.”
Remi had agreed to foot his grocery bill. At the end of each week, Amar handed him his check as well as a detailed grocery list with instructions on how to prepare everything.
During the first few days of his diet, he had found it hard to eat so much. Tai had showed him a trick: after eating, Izai would sit, meditating while using his Push. He’d play around with his Push Essence, heating it up and cooling it down until the pain in his stomach eased.
Later, as the sun was rising, he went for his jog. The streets were nearly empty at that hour, save for the cooing pigeons and the occasional seagull picking through the bins. A few Gale-Carts glided by, but otherwise, the uneven and rough cobblestones were his only companion that morning.
The cold bit at his skin, and stung his lips, fingertips, and eyebrows. Only his grey sweatpants and blue Saints sweater, a gift from his ex, kept him warm.
A few hours later, as Polassa stirred and the sound of birds faded into the background, Izai arrived at the park. He stood before its black iron gate; the name ‘Zara Zara’ stamped across it. It was the first time he’d ever really paid attention to the park’s name. They only ever called it the park. ‘Zara Zara.’ He vaguely remembered she was a Vuyati Folk and played for the Polassa Pirates, though she was from before his time, and even before his father’s.
A lone Taur named Gaios, wearing a bright yellow safety vest, was the only park attendant in sight. He warned Izai about using his Push, reminding him that SolarFrosts like him tend to burn everything around them if they get carried away.
Izai practiced his Lights, Mediums, and Heavies for about an hour, letting his Essence guide him, making sure he wasn’t overextending his Active Zone.
When he returned to his apartment, Tai was waiting with something large and wrapped.
Tai knocked on it. “A thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me find our third. The Taur.”
“Oh yeah,” Izai said, lifting the dummy and heading upstairs with Tai. “He said yes?”
“He’s mulling it over.” Tai then mimicked a whiny voice, “He’s got a little ouchie on his side and isn’t sure if he can Pulse properly.”
Izai recalled the scar and how a strike to it had devasted the Taur.
Inside the apartment, Izai moved the coffee table and rolled up the rug, storing them in his parents’ old bedroom. He unwrapped the dummy and placed it in the centre of the room.
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Tai used some Saps to bond it to the floor. “If you ever need to remove it, let me know.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Tai glanced around. “Nice place. Your dad’s?”
“How’d you figure?”
“It just has the feeling of a hideout, you know?”
“More like my parents’ first apartment.”
“And you pay the rent?”
Izai didn’t feel like discussing his private life. Tai drank some water and left soon after. Izai tested the dummy with a jab, the solid sound of his fist crashing into it had made him giddy.
Suddenly, a commotion outside caught his attention. He peeked through the curtain to see the Folk idlers suspended mid-air, Tai lecturing them. He dropped them to the ground and walked away, hands in his pockets, likely whistling, Izai presumed.
The next morning, his routine jog, training, and practice with the dummy made him late for his meeting at the Yinu Kin Yinu. It was nearly noon when he arrived, almost two hours behind schedule.
The bell rang as he entered. Olav was napping under his jacket in one booth, while Tai and Manu played cards beneath the colourful reflections cast by the stained-glass window. The shop was empty, as usual, and it dawned on Izai – how do they even make a profit?
He sat in the booth, and Koralo slammed his hand on the table, jolting Olav awake.
“Late-night training?” Olav asked, halfway through a yawn.
“Yeah.”
There was a sudden bitterness in his tone. “We’ve been waiting all morning for you, you know. At least give us a ring next time.”
Izai noticed Olav’s hair was shaved. “When did you do that?”
Olav raised a finger and sipped his tea, without ever giving an answer.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of time.”
“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”
Izai blinked, unsure where that came from.
“Boys,” Koralo clapped his hands. “Enough of lover’s quarrel. Tonight’s night.”
Olav sighed and rolled his eyes.
Koralo slammed a strange object on the table. It looked like a heart, but hollow, like a husk. Izai tapped it – it felt like hardened clay. It had what looked like chambers, arteries, veins, and valves. It reminded him all too well of having to dissect a sheep’s heart in school.
Koralo explained the plan: fill one chamber with Gale feather’s dust, another with Stone feather’s dust, and finally a mysterious liquid he simply referred to as ‘X.’ The result? An explosion that mimicked a GaleStone Push, suspending everyone in the air – just like what had happened to him at the zoo and what Tayin had done to the Folk idlers the previous morning.
“Are we just going to fish for the necklace then?” Izai asked, wondering how they’d manoeuvre in a space where there wouldn’t be any gravity.
“I know guy,” Koralo proudly tapped his chest. “He gives us special clothes. Special boots to keep feet on ground. Special sweater to control arms. Special mask to... Well just regular mask to cover identity but then you and Porenadi friend walk in, grab necklace, and I’ll use air-canoe to get us out, yes?”
The security? Izai wondered how they’d get past them. Olav pulled out fake passports – one from Kivu, the other from Kinayi. Flipping through its pages, Izai found his photo to be a crude alteration of himself with slightly longer hair.
“If you’d been around, we could’ve gotten a better picture.”
“Olav will pretend to be student going back to Kivu. Came to pick up husk for professor. No crime to carry such ancient weapon, especially if you don’t have the Saps.” Koralo then turned to Izai. “You’ll wear wig Hanu friend. Pretend to be from Kinayi. Say feathers for fashion project. I even have special permits for it.”
Koralo further explained he’d sneak in with his own disguise and leave supplies for grinding the feathers into dust.
“Don’t mix two dusts together. Please remember.”
Once the dusts were ready, Izai would hand them to Olav who would then fix up the bomb and hand it Koralo. They’d wait until 21:30 when he’d throw the husk, and the Folk boys would then snatch the Solar-Pearl necklace.
“Sounds easy,” Izai said sarcastically.
“It really is friend. And fun too,” Koralo grinned.