Awakening into Dreams: Part II of the Fabula Fereganae Cycle

Chapter XII: Your Debt Paid in Full

  The hulking mass of land lurched forward with a resounding crash of stones and surf. It ran aground higher up the beach as if a wave of earth, its face coming to rest at Saun’s feet. It sat there, rear end still in the water, unwilling or unable to move further.

  “Truly pathetic,” the dark voice inside him said. “An elemental guardian of Feregana or a glorified paperweight?” He delivered a swift quick that landed squarely on the beast’s mossy nose, provoking a pained groan but nothing else. “I also have something of yours,” he continued and flashed another fragment of the stone, a gesture that set Makora’s tail to churning the surf into a mass of foam.

  Ifaut looked to her own hand. Her piece of the stone was still secure in her fist. Then he had found the other half? “Where’d you get that?” she demanded.

  A smirk played across his face. “I chanced upon a grave on my way down,” he said, tossing it casually into the air and catching it. “And found this little memento beside it. The names Varan and Irinis mean anything to you? Little mirrors of four hundred years past!”

  “Not yours!” she screamed and clambered upon Makora’s head, sword leveled accusingly, refusing to let Kardin sidetrack her. “Not yours!” she repeated. “And neither is Sansonis’s body! Give them both back or I’ll… I’ll…”

  “Kill me?” Kardin offered. He laughed. “Unlikely. I bear his face. A creature so driven by emotion such as yourself could never muster the willpower to kill something in which it has invested so much feeling.”

  He was right, Ifaut knew. Her sword arm faltered and fell limply by her side. “I hate you,” she whispered and hung her head. “But I can’t kill you if it would hurt Sansonis.”

  “So it’s Sansonis again? I thought the little princess had bestowed upon him the name Saun.” He looked up at Ifaut with a smirk. “Make up your small mind. Or is it too clouded by something as restraining and debilitating as love?” He kicked Makora again, all the while turning the stone fragment in his hand.

  “Love may be debilitating,” she hissed through clenched teeth as her grip on her sword tightened, “but it can also be our greatest strength. Not that you could understand.” Slowly, struggling with the effort, she lifted her glowering gaze despite the growing weight of anger in her head. “Look into Sansonis’s mind and face the truth.”

  “Already have.” He sneered. “All I saw was contempt for a pathetic and clingy Furosan. Now, give me the rest of the stone. It’s over for you. Sansonis is gone. You are backed into a corner. And we both know you are incapable of fighting.” He extended an open palm towards Ifaut.

  She squeezed her eyes shut so Kardin wouldn’t see the hot tears welling up. A sudden flash, and memories exploded in her mind. White light and Sansonis coming across her in the clearing; being saved by him; dancing and drinking together at the Festival of Lidae; another flash; a blurry haze of admitting love in a tree house; choosing to kiss him instead of tasting her fish; carrying him from Valraines; side by side fighting in Sol-Acrima’s dirty streets; unbearable white and something new, a rainbow arcing across the heavens, Sansonis by her side. And through it all, one feeling oft misunderstood by even the greatest scholars and truly comprehended by the smallest of Feregana’s races: love.

  “Incapable of fighting,” she said, voice rising before culminating in a scream, “but capable of love!” She leapt from Makora’s head, her actions driven by the one force Kardin could never understand. In a movement she herself barely registered, her sword flashed forward, seeming to cut sunshine and flesh with equal ease as it sank into Sansonis’s stomach.

  The voice in Sansonis uttered one last gasp before it dripped away and joined the dark blood falling to the ground. “Bitch…”

  With pure horror dawning across her face, Ifaut withdrew her sword stained by crimson rashness. She dropped it to the ground where it lay forgotten.

  It’s funny, she thought, how we only slow down and notice the little things when we’ve stomped all over our future: drops of blood upon the ferret-hilt like gleaming tears; sighing of wind and waves; tang of copper and salt.

  Sansonis’s legs lost their strength and he pitched forward into Ifaut’s shaking arms. She lowered him to the ground and rested his head on her lap.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, blue eyes wide and gleaming like highly polished sapphires. “I… I…”

  “Guess we’re even now,” he offered and weakly groped for her hand. She noticed and squeezed it tightly.

  “Even? I just stabbed you,” she said, still not believing what she had done. But she knew exactly what he meant. Kardin was gone. And Saun. Only Sansonis remained.

  “You saved me from that thing. By my count we’re even. You’re free to go.”

  “No!” she yelped. “No! You don’t get it, do you?” She sobbed, squeezing his hand nervously while trying not to look upon the wound that pumped blood with each heartbeat. “It was never about that, you silly boy! I followed you because I like you, not because I owe you…”

  “I always thought you were strange,” he said and clenched his teeth as the pain at last began to burn brightly. “I don’t think most people show affection by stabbing.”

  “I’m not most people.” She let out a sudden gasp that stilled her tears for a moment. “Wait, you can’t go! You owe me a last dance, remember?” It was a childish thought, she knew, to believe that an owed dance could still the approach of death. But it was all she had left to cling to.

  “I’ll pay you back one day. That’s a promise.”

  “No!” she protested, stubborn like a small child. “I want it now. No, I want you. Forget the dance, I want the future together that you owe me.”

  “I do? Why?”

  “Because I said so, that’s why. Being kamaes is a promise for the future together. Don’t you know anything?” She found herself suddenly giggling despite the circumstances. “I didn’t think this was how it’d end,” she said. “I imagined something more along the lines of saving your life, not taking it.” She breathed sharply and sniffed, blinking away tears. “I imagined more time together, maybe even forever, settling down, a nice little house in the countryside. A ferret. And a dog. Maybe a cat, too, even though they’re kind of a pain. I like animals. We were going to grow old together. I had it all worked out. We were going to have a farm, we were going to work it together. And at the end of each day we were going to watch the sun go down together. You want to take that away from me?”

  “You know, most ordinary girls dream of being princesses, not the other way around.”

  She sobbed and at last managed to continue. “I’m sorry. You, Saun, everyone I get close to dies. I guess a small part of me always knew you would.” At last the gates holding back her emotion broke, unleashing a wave of despair, and she wept unashamedly. The raw emotion articulated her thoughts perfectly: sour and bitter and hot.

  Sansonis removed his hand from the bloody wound, now not bothering to try and halt the inevitable, and laid it on Ifaut’s heaving shoulder. “You’re a good person,” he said through laboring breaths. ”Your debt’s paid in full.” He sighed. “You set me free from Kardin. You’re free to go.”

  “Free,” she choked out. “Free to go, and free to choose to stay by you.”

  She moved to rearrange him, to make him more comfortable, and the necklace she’d given him in Mafouras slipped from his shirt. Glinting in the sunlight, the half-ferret pendant almost seemed to wink.

  “Of course!” she gasped, triumphant through her tears. “See the necklaces?” She yanked her own from her shirt, breaking the delicate chain in the process. “See?” she repeated, thrusting it in his face.

  He couldn’t find the strength to answer.

  “I c-couldn’t use them last time,” she stammered, rattling off words so quickly they bumped into each other as they vied for attention. “Saun already dead Sansonis still alive still a chance!”

  She grasped his own pendant and tore it from its chain.

&nbs
p; “Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Because I’d already paid him back,” she jabbered as if to herself. Then she smiled, her eyes now wet with tears of joy focusing on his. “This one’s on me.”

  A look of serenity swept across Ifaut’s face, washing away the grief that had been there only a minute before. She yanked a knife from Sansonis’s belt and traced the blade across her left palm, leaving a thin line of blood. She slipped the two pendants into her bloodied palm, where they fused with a dull glow like liquid sunlight, becoming one.

  With utmost care she laid Sansonis on the ground, lifted his shirt, and placed her right hand upon the wound. Warm, she thought, but not in a nice way. More like hot and unpleasantly sticky. So this is what someone’s life feels like… And the almost metallic odor, the smell of ebbing life, that was the worst part.

  Beneath her soft touch Sansonis was vaguely aware of a gentle light, a light that seemed to smile at him, embodying the expression he had seen so often on Ifaut’s face. Gradually the blackness that had reduced his vision to the opening at the end of a tunnel withdrew, shying away from the tiny sun before him.

  If the experience of being stabbed was unpleasant, what followed was perhaps even more so. Sansonis felt his stomach lurch as the wound spat out black clots of blood and a writhing sensation erupted across the cut. Unpleasant, certainly. But not so much painful. Still, the feeling of his own flesh stitching itself together was not something he wanted to feel again anytime soon.

  At length Ifaut stood up, tottering on uneasy feet. “All better?” she asked, swaying like a poplar in a gentle breeze. Her left hand relaxed and the whole kamae pendant tumbled out, turning twice before shattering into golden dust that soon disappeared on the breeze. Her eyes fluttered open and alighted, unfocused, upon his stomach. “All better,” she sighed. “And now… we can dance.”

  Sansonis scrambled to his feet, free of pain, as Ifaut’s limp body tottered and fell lifelessly into his arms.

  “Are you okay?” If she’d just done what he thought she’d done, given her life so he might live…

  The Furosan let out an odd wurbling sound. Then a gentle, rumbling snore.

  He stroked her hair, overwhelmingly touched by the strange girl who gave so much and asked for so little, one whose attentions he felt he didn’t deserve.

  “How the hell can you sleep at a time like this?”

  The next morning Stefi found herself surprisingly refreshed, having awoken from the kind of soft sleep that only a nice bath can bring on. Beside her, Cédes breathed with a gentle rhythm, a serene smile on her face. Despite the events of the previous day, her friend hadn’t woken at all during the night like usual. That might have been because of the bath. Or because Kei-Pyama had managed to get them a very comfortable double bed. But Stefi knew it was because of the glowing pebble now resting on the bedside table.

  For the longest time she watched her pale friend swept up in sweet sleep and soft sheets. In the short time she’d known Cédes, she’d never seen her sleep so soundly. Most nights she found her twitching and breathing heavily, sometimes even murmuring in an unknown tongue. Now, because she had removed the fragment of Raphanos, Cédes was at last at peace. Even if her purpose as Fieretsi should fail, she had at least brought comfort to someone, she thought with a smile that mirrored her friend’s.

  The shadows in the room had grown visibly longer when Kei-Pyama came in and snapped Stefi from her reverie. In one hand she balanced a tray of buttered toast, while in the other she clutched a jug of effervescent spring-water.

  “I made breakfast,” she said with an innocent smile, waking her sister, who yawned and fluttered her ruby eyes in the morning light.

  “The water is good, yes?” she said once Stefi and Cédes had finished. “Alzandia specialty, special fizzy spring water with a little lemon juice. Good for the body and mind.” She collected the empty tray and jug before continuing. “Do you have plans for the day?”

  Both Stefi and Cédes replied that they didn’t.

  “Perhaps we may share companionship,” she suggested. “It is a nice day, and we can be nice friends, too.”

  “And Radus!” a voice from behind the closed door chimed in.

  Stefi laughed. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “Good plan,” Radus echoed.

  If Stefi and Cédes were well rested, they soon pounded out any sense of refreshment upon Alzandia’s many stone steps. All linking arms, they and the two Alzandians climbed one step at a time, talking all the while. Occasional balconies opened up off the wide, spiraling staircase, revealing distant hills that breached the fog like islands in a ghostly sea of clouds.

  At length the stairs opened into the middle of the round roof, where a small courtyard perched high in the open air. It was empty but for a few pots that attempted to bring a touch of color to the sky, though their contents struggled to survive in the chilly air. Some held hardy, weary-looking lavender, while in others a few dandelion-like flowers had once bloomed before wilting and dying. A rusted railing ran about the edge. It had long ago rusted and twisted in the damp air.

  “From here you are seeing Alzandia and the fog,” Kei-Pyama said. “It is a good day with good friends. We can see past the fog to the eastern hills, where you come from. But west is always hidden.”

  They unlinked their arms and approached the edge for a better look, while Cédes contented herself with the fresh smell of crisp, clean air.

  “Ooh.” Stefi’s voice wavered as she peered across the land, struck suddenly by the cool air and vertigo. She staggered and clutched Radus’s arm for balance.

  “Scary,” he said and patted her head. “But okay.” At once the horrible feeling in her stomach dissolved. It would take much more to dissolve the fog.

  Kei-Pyama sighed. “Our home. See the fog? I know sister does not, but be assured it is there. It come when sister Cédes vanished away, and we disappeared from Feregana. Some humans have come to our lands and stealed from the abandoned towns in hills. No more Furosans come. They make their leave, they don’t come.” She rested her weight on the railing despite its creaky groans of protest. “Sister Cédes drove away humans long ago. We think she made return to drive away fog. It is our last chance to go back to the big world.”

  “I lose one burden to pick up another,” Cédes said. “This one, I think, is worth bearing.” She approached her sister, feeling the way with her bare feet, and hugged her from behind, resting her head against hers. “Though I do not know how I might.”

  “Raphanos and Guratzu may have the power together. That is why I stealed her from the temple to give to you. None here know how to call her. You, sister Cédes, are leaning to the side of the world we don’t see but you do. We made climb up here to see our home, your home, and ask if you help us.”

  Cédes pulled away and buried her hands in her pockets. One came to rest on Guratzu’s tingling stone, the other on Raphanos’s and its accompanying pebble. She fingered the pebble, her lithe fingers enjoying the warm and smooth surface. Home. The word echoed in her head in Kei-Pyama’s accented voice. Was it here? Mafouras? It could be either, as long as Stefi was by her side. Perhaps it could even be Sumarana, Stefi’s own home. Once the journey was all over, of course. And if the terrible future she had seen could be driven off its destined course. By removing Raphanos from her body, Stefi had taken the first step by ensuring she wouldn’t die consumed by her out of control flames with the approaching humans. At least, that’s what she hoped.

  “I will help,” Cédes said at last, “provided you help me.”

  “We will,” her sister replied. “Anything you be wishing for.”

  “Whatever darkness is coming our way, convince the Alzandians to stand beside us. The humans will come, I saw that much. If I am not to sacrifice myself to halt their advance, then only our co-operation may stand in their way.”

  “Beside Stefi, Radus stand,” Radus said and patted Stefi’s head again. “We Furosan and human stand, we be kind and not hate.”
He plucked a bundle of the dead flowers and crushed them in his palm. He opened his hand and the crisp wind carried away everything but a dozen tiny seeds. “For cool Stefi,” he said, prising open her hand and dropping the seeds in, each one a potential plant with many seeds of its own. “Where Stefi plant flower, that Stefi home. Mustelaepedes, flower of home. Smell nice like Stefi. Not as pretty.”

  “As Stefi might say,” Cédes said as her friend blushed, “I take that as a yes.”

  The isolated silence was broken as a large bird flapped from the sky and alighted upon the railing next to Kei-Pyama. At once Stefi recognized it and the blue ribbons tied about its legs. “Sentinel?”

  In answer it extended its right leg, offering the note tied about it. Stefi removed it and read it aloud. When she’d finished she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. However, the sentence in a different hand at the bottom reassured her:

  We’re coming to help.

  -Adnamis and Djidou.

  And on the reverse, one dirty smudge with five smaller ones above it. The third person coming with them couldn’t have signed his name, so he left the only signature his kind could: an Otsukuné paw print.

  “What Stefi talk?” Radus asked, plucking the note from Stefi’s hand. “What note talk?” He turned it over several times, squinting all the while at letters holding no meaning for him.

  “War coming,” Stefi explained simply so he could understand. “Friends coming.”

  “Hope already come,” he said as he handed the note back.

  “And,” Cédes said with a heavy voice, “it seems the darkness we set out to stop has now found us.”

  Stefi, Cédes, and the Alzandians passed much of the day after Sentinel’s arrival in conversation inside an open courtyard, each party filling the other in on past events.

  “Silly of sister to cut off tail,” Kei-Pyama gasped. “And such a strange ear piercing.”

  “Sorry for Stefi ferrets,” Radus said and patted her shoulder.

  Kei-Pyama was about to elaborate on how she and her brother had waited for Cédes every day for many years when a grizzled looking Furosan man interrupted.

  “More humans have arrived,” he said, his Common Language far better than both Kei-Pyama’s and Radus’s. “They say they’re friends of yours,” he told Stefi. “Tall male, girl with blue hair, talking dog.”

  “Yes, it’s them!” she said, barely able to contain her excitement. “Where are they?”

  “Right this way.” He led them to the main gates of Alzandia, a place Stefi had never seen before, having come in through an underground tunnel.

  With some effort, he and Radus heaved open the iron-reinforced wooden doors to reveal a small beach opening onto the lake and lined with boats of varying sizes. And there, completely soaked, stood Djidou, Adnamis, and Rhaka.

  “Rhaka!” Stefi flew forward, falling to her knees as she embraced the Otsukuné. “You’re alive!” She rested her head against his, oblivious to the fact that her clean clothes were now nearly as dirty as he was.

  “Obviously,” he replied gruffly, but Stefi could see his tail flapping weakly in the mud. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his own joy at seeing Stefi again.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Djidou said, throwing down a large bundle and pack, “but did you get the message from the bird?”

  Stefi nodded, her happiness suddenly eclipsed by dark dread.

  “Then you know this is no friendly visit.” He sighed. “But I’ve got a present. They’re damp, thanks to a little trouble with the boat, but we can soon strip and clean ’em. Good thing we managed to keep the bullets dry.”

  Stefi released Rhaka and examined the damp, dirty bundle. “Guns?”

  “Yes.”

  “Guns?” came an echo. Its owner, Radus, stepped forward and untied the bundle. “Fight? Look after home?” He weighed one of the weapons in his hands, clicked the trigger a few times, and slid the bolt back and forth with a curious smile.

  “Look after home,” Djidou confirmed.

  “Teach. Radus learn. Protect home. Protect Stefi.”

  Djidou laughed. “Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”