River’s End ch 78: To Transfer a Heart

I confess, with that misunderstanding out of the way, these interludes happened somewhat often. Neither of us knew how permanent this thing between us could be. My sister’s vedia actively counseled me against letting it continue. Valon ignored it, and Fredo stood somewhere in the middle, questions never expressed but definitely there.

Not that I didn’t have plenty of other activities to fill my days. Education was important, and Valon made an interesting teacher. If Fredo and I were going to live on Grenswa, there wasn’t a thing about its history and nature we wouldn’t know—or at least have read about and done a report on. Despite the vastness of the ship and its many environs, no secret berry romps escaped his notice. He didn’t mind that they happened, but he wanted a detailed analysis on each one.

On top of that, he said it would be a waste not to study the workings of this ark, both mechanically and culturally. My interrogations of the pilots were a good start, but his assignments took me to every corner of the ship.

The first day of a week spent observing their education system, I stood in front of a class of Shlykrii-na teens, introducing myself and Hent.

“[We’re here as quiet spectators,]” I explained. “[Please go on as normal and pretend we aren’t here.]”

That lasted less than the amount of time it took us to walk to the back of the room. One student stood from the bench she shared with four others and bowed. When the teacher gave her permission to speak, she swiveled toward us. “[Why does he have scales?]”

My mouth opened, but before my detailed and very scientific answer could emerge, Hent responded, “[Why do you possess a nose?]”

I had a scientific explanation for that, too, but the girl simply covered the feature in question. “[Because we’d look funny without one.]”

Hent lifted his hands, showing off their speckling of brilliant azure. “[Same reason.]”

That brought out several guffaws, a few grumbles, and a slew of further questions. The teacher wisely changed the topic of the day’s lesson to Grenswa, and with us there, the students received more accurate information than they would have from their sparse and biased archives.

Pride filled me as Hent conversed and debated with these youth of a people he had so recently viewed as enemies. He wasn’t too well-versed in the language yet and several times had to ask me to translate, but not once did a threat spoil the peaceful ambiance. In this interaction, I watched the first moments of a new era for Shlykrii and Grenswa.

After class, I wrapped my arms around him from behind and whispered in his ear, “Bojai.”

“Menyaze?” he guessed correctly.

“Mm-hm. It means I love you.”

“Technically,” a grated voice called from above, “it means to transfer a heart.”

We both looked up.

“Togdy? Are you in the air duct?”

“Yep.”

“I think that deserves a why?”

“Togdy likes the breeze, and Togdy likes to overhear things.”

After that, I was very paranoid every time I passed a vent cover, sure someone watched from behind it.

On another occasion, we wrangled livestock and tilled fields for hands-on experience in an agricultural sector. As expected, mud covered me from head to toe when we broke for lunch, reposing beneath the trees of the same orchard where I had first met Nyen.

There were no vents here, so when a judgmental, metallic voice rang from behind me, I spilled my high electrolyte drink all down my front, adding a sticky coat of orange to my patina.

“Jumping candysticks, you are barely recognizable, Rose. How dreadful you look!”

With a hand to my chest to assure myself my heart hadn’t shot through my ribcage, I whirled toward the outdated war machine. “Paqo, isn’t it rude to tell someone they don’t look good?”

“That depends on the circumstances,” it elaborated with its customary circuitous gestures. “Had we been in a crowd, yes, my actions would have been highly inappropriate. However, beneath this lovely tree, we are alone. Here, it is considerate of me as a helpful friend and advisor to tell you I would not be seen in public like that.”

“You don’t like my makeover? It’s the latest fashion among these modern Shlykrii-nas.” I gestured to the other workers scattered very much in earshot of this conversation. True, none of them understood Sishgil except for Hent, who laughed so hard, he was about to tumble off his high branch, and Fredo, who sat down his roasted cereal, left ear tilted in our direction.

“I shall have to look into this,” the machine stated with a stiff nod. “As I leave you to embark upon this investigation, I must request you keep silent should any ask if I came this way.”

“Wait, someone’s chasing you?” I scanned the trees in the direction it had come from—easily deduced by the trail of torn grass from its clawed feet.

“The museum curators do take such pride in having as valuable a specimen as myself in their collection, but they insist on displaying me in an inert state. I have on multiple occasions now declined their offers, and though they continue to pursue me, it appears I have lost them for now.”

I didn’t see how. Paqo wasn’t fast, and even if it had been, the trail was rather conspicuous.

I put on my most worried frown. “But isn’t it rude to lose somebody and just leave them lost? Maybe you should go find them.”

Paqo paused, circle gestures and all, then burst into motion back the way it had come. “Hello, pursuers! Here I am. We must find each other as demanded by the laws of etiquette. This would be easier if you still followed me!”

I watched it disappear back through the trees, holding in my snickers with a hand.

Fredo stood. “Was that a machine that talked?”

“Yes.” Composing myself, I tried to figure out what I should wipe my face and hand on. Every part of me was dirty, and my attempt to conceal my laugh had only smeared the mud. “It’s an old Shlykrii-na war machine.”

“Is it insane?”

“Most definitely.” Hent dropped between us with a grace I would never have my fill of watching. “I like seein’ him wreak harmless havoc around here, though. It’s why I keep powerin’ him on every time those curators catch him.”

A little later, I asked Hent if he would bring Paqo with us when we landed on Grenswa.

After several minutes of calculation, lime, lavender, and silver washing over his scales, he shook his head. “He’s a Shlykrii-na creation.”

“Originally, that was true. Paqo’s body was constructed by Shlykrii-nas, but its mind and personality were shaped by however Blu put those pieces back together, by the data he fed it, and the times you all fried its processors. There is probably more of Grenswa in that machine than Shlykrii now.”

Hent grunted. “I’ve never liked him, and he knows that. At best, he annoys people, and at worst, he walks down the street and incites mass panic. I’lln’t ask him to come back, and he’lln’t ask to accompany us because here he can actually belong.”

“Shut down in a museum?”

He didn’t answer. There wasn’t a perfect solution, and I tried not to let that gnaw away at me, especially when in Paqo’s presence. It never brought up the subject, even when it learned Togdy would be disembarking with us. Sjaealam would take the Dossie to Seallaii with him.

“He wants to meet the River Guardians,” Valon explained, “and that is within his rights. The Abaeyoi took his ancestors from their world to see what would happen to a race of Dossies raised entirely in space. When the clan was betrayed, he appears to have been the only one who survived.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t as much about his rights as it is about collecting the result of that experiment.”

Valon had a way of grinning that defied his modest veil. “Why throw two stones when one is sufficient?”

After an examination, he proclaimed Togdy’s body would be able to handle Seallaii’s gravity with some training, and the Dossie dutifully followed the prescribed exercise regimen.

Fredo and I kept a similar routine—loaded with weights as we ran laps through the agricultural halls. Much to our consternation, Paqo named itself our coach. Sometimes Fredo threw the machine, and it was best when Paqo landed in the lake. It took the longest to get back from there, time we often spent sparring.

With days spent in each other’s company again, our strange bond regained strength, but we both had learned so much. No longer was I pulled into his nightmares, and we could hide what we didn’t want to share. I gave him every memory I had of Ishiyae, though, and as more snippets of his early childhood resurfaced, he showed me the things he wanted me to see.

There was more, I could tell, but I wouldn’t pry. He never took off those communication rings, though, and more often than not, his attention was divided between his surroundings and a conversation with Uncle Sjaealam or Dollii. I tried to make light of the fact that I wasn’t the one he chose to share everything with, yet it was a tiny knife sticking between my lowest ribs, prodding at my lung with every breath.

As we ran our laps the day before we would arrive at Grenswa, Fredo slowed. Sensing his unease, I did likewise, allowing Togdy to pull ahead in pursuit of Nyen and Hent. The Dossie barked at them that the race Hent had challenged him to was entirely unfair as neither of the Grenswa-nas were weighted. Hent told him he shouldn’t have been bragging, then.

I waited for Fredo to speak first, and just when I doubted he would say anything at all, he spoke one line, voice low and near breaking. “Show me what they look like.”

Some part of me shrunk at the request. My hearing had yet to return to what it once was, but at least it had come back. He still couldn’t see.

Fixing my gaze on our companions, I painted the scene within our mindscape. Togdy had collapsed on the lakeshore, orange fur billowing as he panted. Nyen, neon hues striking even from this distance, poked at the Dossie’s head. Hent dove in the lake and out of my sight.

‘I still see him though,’ Fredo said, ‘like this.’

As if summoned by the flick of a switch, darkness engulfed our inner world, black velvet dappled with pinpricks of light. I flinched, arms flinging to either side—arms that were also formed of stars.

‘This is how I see now. It’s how the Lorsknu see, and they share their view with me, or what I can handle of it.’

‘I’ve seen it before, briefly, when you brought me to that tree on Rablah and I saw your sister’s memories.’ Awe was a relative of helium—it made my voice squeaky and promised weightlessness. My stomach swirled, unsure which way was up. He had claimed he could still see Hent, and while I assumed he, too, would appear as a constellation, I didn’t know which one of the millions of spinning groups of specks he was. ‘It’s beautiful but at the same time disorienting.’

Fredo caught me, warm chest against my back providing some semblance of an anchor. Everything still spun within, but at least I could feel where my feet were.

‘It was hard enough on the small Nadinshé’s Peace. On a ship this size, I can try to avoid meeting too many, but if I can’t handle the population here, how am I supposed to live on a planet?’

‘We don’t have to go to Grenswa,’ I assured him, the tiniest prick of disappointment in my heart. ‘Valon will let us stay aboard. It might even make it easier on him for there to be three of us. We could help your cousins, give them a way to claim their Sojourner heritage if they want.’

‘If I went back to Napix, you would really follow me?’

‘Of course, Fredo.’

Eternity unfurled amid these stars, basking in their light as he considered the prospect.

Finally, he stepped away, and the darkness faded into the gray fog of my inner sea.

‘No, Rosa. We can’t ever go there again. We got away once. We wouldn’t a second time.’

***

At last, the time arrived to pile aboard Valon’s ship and descend. Nalquii, now respected among many of the Shlykrii-na warriors but definitely on my to-be-avoided list, would remain aboard the River’s Vow to ensure it waited for Valon’s return.

Though there were other rooms, we all crowded behind the controls as Grenswa’s atmosphere burned brilliant colors across the viewport. Valon piloted the craft, and Hent perched on the back of his chair, watching every command. With instructions not to touch anything, I sat in the only other seat, Nyen behind me, eerily silent in a position that mirrored Hent’s. Fredo leaned against the wall, holding Togdy so the Dossie could see out.

As before, vague notions of shapes grew into clouds and landmasses, but a different set of emotions filled me this time. When we had first landed on Grenswa, I had been excited to see the reality of things I had only read about. I had been eager to become a hero and worried everything would go wrong.

This time, I wouldn’t be met by strangers. I would face those my actions and inaction had hurt, and I would see that damage first hand. I would also do all I could to fix it.

I thought I was ready for the door to open, beyond ready even. If it took just one second longer to fold away, I’d have clawed through it. Yet, the moment Grenswa’s humid air hit my face, my knees threatened to give, and I stumbled forward.

As we followed Valon down the ramp, evening’s light danced over an unfamiliar clearing. Clouds lapped at the edges of the land as they had at the Harvest Festival, inviting me to frolic through their soft colors. Nearly a year had passed since that event, yet a part of me believed that we might have stepped back in time to just before the light left us on that fateful day.

If the me of this moment could inhabit my ignorant past self, how much heartache could I prevent?

Excited chattering milled through the small crowd waiting a few paces from the bottom of the ramp, mixing with the random trill of a flute and quick refrain on a horn. The mutters grew louder as Nyen came into their view. He had donned a new scarf of the deepest red, but nothing concealed the rainbow of his hair and scales. Head down, he dashed behind me.

Their attention left him quickly as Hent appeared. Cheering drowned out all other sound.

At the front of the group, six familiar forms stat astride leempree—Timqé, Niiq, Queen Jianthy, Uncle Sjaealam, Dollii, and most surprisingly, Ambassador Lafdo. Face scrunched, I tried to figure out how I could ask what in the world he was doing here but not have it sound rude.

The queen slid off her equine and raced past us to embrace her son. Holding him tightly, she spoke through sobs in a voice too low for me to hear.

“Welcome back, Honored Guests,” Timqé called, gaze sliding to his brother, “and family. Words can’t express our joy at your safe return, but hopefully we’ll be able to make you feel it.”

They beckoned us to ride with them, and though the most egregious member of this group offered me a hand, I opted to ride with Niiq. Hent helped his mother back onto her mount, then joined her. Togdy chose to go with Lafdo, extending reassurances to the nervous leempree as he curled up on its rump. Timqé pulled Fredo up behind him.

As all the leempree rounded, leaving Valon to prepare the ship for its next launch, Dollii leaned over the neck of a certain black-and-orange equine. “You with all the colors, what’s your name?”

Nyen froze, cowering as best he could behind my leg but peeking at her.

“We call him Nyen, but he doesn’t speak,” I answered.

She smiled a signature Dollii smile. “Nyen, would you like to ride with me?”

He nodded, and as he climbed onto Lan’s flank, Niiq gave him a smile just as bright as Dollii’s. “Welcome home.”

He looked at her, head tilted.

One mount at a time, we traversed a questionable rope bridge and followed a jungle path that grew ever more familiar. This was the capital island, and the moment the palace came into view, so did the crowd. Their roar shook the ground, and I felt it in my kidneys. Capturing the fervor, our leempree sped into gallops. I laughed at the freedom in the moment, easily caught up in the celebration all around—dancing, music, food.

Togdy hooked his forepaws over Lafdo’s shoulders. “[Togdy wants to try one of everything. Let’s go.]”

At least the ambassador was wise enough to keep them with the rest of the group, however.

As we reached the front steps and dismounted, the Lady of Sapphire and her family met us. Her eyes aligned with Hent’s, and he stiffened. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away.

“Auntie,” he whispered, embracing her, “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t…I couldn’t…” Dark gray chased all color from his scales, glistening silver in patches.

Lips trembling, she pushed out the words, “When I heard there’re only two survivors returnin’, I daren’t hope. I knew it’dn’t be, but I very much hoped.”

Retreating, he pulled Blu’s necklace from over his head and held it out to his family. “It’s all I’s able to hold onto.”

Blu’s mother folded the cord back into his hand and pushed it against his chest. “Keep it, Hent.” When he started to object, she added, “At least until you can ask the instrument master what to do with it. A whee pendant must be earned, I know, but I think this’s a special circumstance.”

Tears in my eyes and iron in my gut, I turned to Timqé. “Can we really have a celebration when so many didn’t come back?”

“We’ve been in mournin’ for nearly a year.” He swallowed, grin sharp around the edges and eyes glossy. “Let us be grateful for what we do possess.”

I saw the sense in that. Biting my lip, I turned to Niiq. “So, where’s the baby?”

Continued in chapter 79: The Beat of Now

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