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Episode 55 - The Kiss

Kashur

He hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and he wished he had because, in that case, his performance could have been improved.

Instead, one moment he was blabbing his mouth off and the next, those soft, pink lips were crushed against his. He was so shocked, his grip around Yelora actually loosened, but her legs curled around his waist, taking the brunt of her weight, and her arms cinched around his shoulders. And instead of holding her for practical purposes (to keep her from plummeting to the ground), his body and brain realized he could hold her for completely, deliciously, dizzyingly impractical purposes. He let one hand slide down to the small of her back, and another up to the nape of her neck, wishing there wasn’t a barrier of leather between his fingers and the loose strands of hair there, the warm skin. He relaxed into the sensations, everything slowing down as if in time lapse, the kiss sliding, slow and sweet, like warm sap on a spring day, like bathwater over chilled skin, like honey dripping from the tip of a dipper into a steaming cup of coffee.

“Kashur!”

“Hmm?”

The kiss broken, his eyes popped open. They’d lost significant height and were hovering barely over the treetops.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I got a little distracted.” He brought them all the way back down to the ground, their feet crunching on pine needles and fallen leaves. Still holding her, he asked, “Does this mean you’re staying?”

She squeezed his chin with one cool hand, and kissed him again, this time quickly, apologetically. “No. But I’ll be back.” She pushed away.

“Wait, what? Yelora!”

She smiled at him as she mounted her horse and turned its nose north. “Go to the crash site. I’ll catch up. I promise.”

He sighed as she brought the horse to a gallop and disappeared between the trees, an Elf fading into nature, just like storybooks always pictured. He stood staring at the place where she’d been. Then he picked up his fishing gear and headed for the nearest shore.

***

Bayne was smoking a pipe by the fire when Kashur got back to camp with three good-sized trout, caught and cleaned and even seasoned with some spices he’d taken from the broken kitchen cart. He exposed some coals and laid the fish on the hot bed to cook before dropping cross-legged beside the Dwarf with a deep sigh.

“She kissed me.”

Bayne looked at him sideways.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t just announce something like that out loud. It’s private. But I gotta tell somebody!” He looked around at the camp. Ivy was curled under a blanket, asleep. The Emperor was resting, too, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, mouth open. “Where’s our little Elemental friend?”

Bayne shrugged and took another puff.

“You look good, though. You feel okay?” Kashur pushed the fish around on the bed of coals.

“Well enough,” Bayne grunted. “Where’s the Elf?”

“She’ll be back.” Kashur grinned again. “She kissed me. I already told you that, didn’t I? Yeah, she’ll be back. She told me she’d come back, and I believe her.”

Two carrot-colored eyebrows rose, then dropped. Kashur didn’t care.

“I saw the rest of the contingent from the air,” he continued. “They’re not far. The crash site isn’t far at all.”

“The boy isn’t well.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kashur turned the fish. It was already starting to smell divine. “What about the girl?”

“She’s fine.”

Poking the bed of coals with a stick, he dug a little nest for the fish to settle into. It would make the skin nice and crispy while keeping the flesh inside moist. “You want to explain that power converter thing to me? How it destroyed the garden?”

“The opal’s the key,” Bayne said, leaning in for a good long whiff of the cooking fish. “When the crystal’s power is run through it, it changes the energy from something alien to something that’s natural to Terris.”

Kashur thought about it. “Like translating a language.”

“Some energies are compatible with life while others are destructive. Gamma radiation is a destructive form of energy, for us—the lifeforms of Terris. But, light, for example, isn’t. So, if ye bombard a plant with gamma radiation, it damages the tissues and the plant dies. But if ye convert that radiation to ultraviolet light, the plant—”

“Makes food out of it!” Kashur snapped his fingers. “Photosynthesis!”

“Err, right.” Bayne glared. “I was gettin’ to that.”

“Wait. Are you saying the crystals are radioactive?”

“I didn’t say that. I just used gamma radiation as an example.”

“So what are they? What kind of energy do they give off?”

He rubbed his beard. “It’s something I’ve never seen before. But, like many forms of energy, it can be manipulated, changed to a different form. That’s what the power converter does. It uses the crystal as a power source, and then it runs that source through the opal, which disrupts it and turns it into something the quartz can store. The qualities of the opal also make the energy more stable, so it doesn’t overwhelm the system, that way it can keep running through the machine, back and forth, like a tide. That makes it a sustainable energy source.”

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It was remarkable, all of it. “Bayne, you’re a genius!” Kashur said.

“It’s just science,” he grumbled.

“So is that what happened with the crystal garden? It all got... translated?”

Bayne pulled a stick out of the fire and began to draw with it. “The converter itself is a closed system that works on a loop.” He drew a loop. “But the crystals are very reactive and work in series.” He drew some crystals around the loop. “So if they are connected, all that energy gets pulled in and converted, too.” He used hashed lines to connect them, then drew an arrow from them to the closed loop. “It’s like electricity. If ye touch a live wire, ye get zapped. Or if yer standing in a puddle with a live wire in it”—he drew a blob around the crystals— “ye still get zapped.” He paused. “Sometimes, if yer even just standing near a live wire, if the electricity is strong enough—”

“I get zapped! Yeah, I get it. This is amazing. This is going to save us!” Kashur clapped the Dwarf on the shoulder. “When Yelora gets back, she’s going to bring our forces all together—the Elves, the Dwarves, the Imperials, the Elementals. She’s going to rally everyone and we’re gonna fight this thing, and we’re gonna win.” Kashur dragged the fish out of the fire. “Do we have any plates? This is ready.”

Bayne rummaged around for something to serve the fish on while Kashur cleaned his knife on the front of his tunic and peeled the charred skin away from the sweet meat inside. It was the most optimistic he’d felt in a while. Things were coming together. And the fish was cooked perfectly. Before long, two bright eyes appeared from the pile of blankets in the shadows, and Ivy made her way to the fire, hair disheveled, pinched face frowning.

“Well, hello, sunshine! You hungry? Fruit and nuts make a great appetizer, but there’s not much staying power in them, is there? Here, sit down right there and Uncle Kashur will make you a plate.”

Kashur scooted over to make room between himself and the Dwarf. Of course, he wasn’t certain yet if he really was her uncle. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk about it. He’d have to do that, soon. He handed her a steaming plate of fish and a fork. Then he served Bayne and made a plate for himself.

The fish was good. Of course it was. Kashur had been catching and cooking fish all his life, but it still felt good to watch Ivy and Bayne scarf up the meal. He’d set a bit aside for the Emperor, too, in case he was up for eating anytime soon. When they were done, Bayne took the plates to the mare’s watering hole to clean them, giving Kashur a moment alone with Ivy.

It was time.

“Hey Ivy,” he said, catching her before she made her way back to her pile of blankets. “C’mere a second. I think there’s something sticking out of your ear.”

Her mouth turned down at the corners. “I know that trick. You’ll just make a coin come out of my ear.”

“No, it’s not a coin,” Kashur said, pivoting. “It’s... furrier.”

One sharp eyebrow went up. “Furrier?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

She lowered herself back down beside him.

“Hold still.” He held his gloved hands near her ear. “I’ve almost got it! I think I’ve got it. And, there it is!” With a swirl of his hands he summoned a little white mouse, pretending to pull it from her ear. “Well, well, well! Looks like you’re a mouse brain. I thought you might be.”

She smiled wide, despite herself, and Kashur’s stomach dropped. She looked so much like Nyla! He let the summoned mouse hop onto her hand and scurry up to her shoulder. Her shoulders jumped and she squealed.

“It tickles!”

“Yeah, it does tickle.” He watched her squawk and squirm and finally catch the mouse in her hands, petting it gently with a finger. “Say, Ivy,” he finally said. “Do you know who I am?”

Her smile disappeared again. “You’re the Summoner.” She buried her nose in the mouse’s fur. “A Wizard.”

He sighed. “Yes, but before that I was an Imperial, just like you. And I had a sister.”

She glared sideways at him.

“Her name was Nyla. Was that your mother’s name, by any chance? Nyla?”

She didn’t answer. He pressed anyway.

“Do you know where your mother is, Ivy? Either of your parents?”

Ivy lifted the mouse up by the tail and let it paw at her nose. “No.”

“Because if your mom’s name really is Nyla, that makes me your uncle for real.”

Ivy pursed her lips. “She had a family once. But they threw her away.”

What? That wasn’t true at all. “No one threw her away, Ivy. Nyla ran away when I was very young. Not much older than you.”

“Your parents didn’t want her around anymore. Because she was different. So they sent her away. And you didn’t stop them!”

So it was true! This really was Nyla’s daughter. The fish on Kashur’s plate was forgotten. His heart was beating fast. “Is that what she told you?”

Ivy gasped at her empty hands. “It’s gone! The mouse!”

“Things that are summoned don’t last. Ivy, you have to know something. Our parents told me Nyla ran away.”

She was crying now, her empty palms pressed to her face.

“Don’t cry, Ivy. It wasn’t real. I can summon you a new one.”

“No!” She yanked her hands down, eyes red, face tragic. “I don’t want another one. I wanted that one. You gave it to me and then you just took it away!”

“I’ll get it back.” He made the token with his hands, searching for the white mouse he’d used to create the shade the first time. There it was.

“No!” Ivy slapped his hands down. “I don’t want another one. I’m going to bed!” She stomped over to her blanket, crawled under it, and continued to cry.

“Well that went well,” Kashur muttered to himself, tossing the fish carcasses in the fire.

Bayne gave him a questioning look when he came back with the plates. “Why’s she crying?”

“She’s tired,” Kashur told him, and the Dwarf didn’t call him on his mis-speak. “Come on, we should get some sleep, too.”

It felt like Ivy had only just stopped crying and Kashur had barely let his eyes close, when he heard Yelora whisper his name. She was leaning over him, the ends of her blond hair tickling his face.

“Hey you,” he muttered. “I was hoping I’d dream about you.”

“I’m not a dream. Wake up, Kashur.”

His eyes popped open and he sat up. She’d come back! And woken him no less. Perhaps she wanted to kiss him again. Then he saw her expression.

“What’s wrong? Did you find Gorlo?”

Her eyes were wide and watery in the moonlight. “I gave up the search. The hawk came back with something attached to its foot.” There was something clenched in her fist.

Kashur peeled her hand open. “Sochee’s bee?”

“Ronith’s. Tell us your secrets,” Yelora whispered, choking on the last word.

A blood-curdling scream cut the night.

Kashur closed his hands around Yelora’s, trapping the screaming bee inside their four hands to silence it. His heart thumped against his chest as he stared into Yelora’s frantic face. “Who was that?”

Tears spilled down Yelora’s face. “That was Sochee. The Wizards and their Goblins have taken the crash site.”