Chapter III: Cracks Appear
“Was it all really worth it?” Stefi said absently, more to herself than Cédes.
“Do you mean the journey?” Cédes asked. “I am unable to tell just yet. Perhaps ask me again when this is all over.”
“No. The ferrets. And the sadness they bring when it’s time to say goodbye.” Unable to look at the friend she had just comforted, she instead looked towards the distant horizon where a gray land mass loomed like a dirty cloud. Cédes’s grief had been relieved, even if only a little, but her own still suffocated her.
“You wonder whether the sadness of their deaths is outweighed by the joy they bring in life?”
“Exactly.” She clutched the little bodies now bereft of life. She longed for landfall to give them a proper resting place. Even so, just holding them now brought her some small comfort.
“That question, dear heart, has confounded Furosans, from farmers to philosophers, for centuries.” The ghost of a smile played upon her lips. “So you are not alone.”
Stefi turned her eyes from the first sight of land to break the sea’s monotony. “And what do they say about the subject?”
“That the grief of loss is one of the most intense instances in our existence. But it is still a part of Feregana’s cycle of life and death. Inevitable, yet beautiful and necessary.”
“I suppose so. Without the sadness we wouldn’t be able to truly appreciate the good times, would we?” She noticed a twinkle of adoration in the Furosan’s eyes.
“Precisely. It is all about the nature of happiness and sadness, love and hate. All things must exist in dualities, in perpetual balance with shades in between. So say the theories I have studied. That is why, even for Furosa, there is also a necessary polar opposite of Nefairu. But I believe those little creatures can teach us far more about these things in their short lives than a library full of old books.”
Stefi laughed. The sound seemed to surprise Cédes more than anything. “Very true. You know,” she said airily as her gaze wandered back out across the sea, “I never would’ve met the Furosans without them. The Otsukuné would still be extinct to me. I wouldn’t have seen all these places either. Or you.”
Cédes blushed. “They can teach us more than just simple happiness and sadness, can’t they?”
“Yeah. You know, I like to think the good outweighs the bad. We lived lots of good times together, and their memories are still there. But the pain is just so…” She mentally groped for a word and came up empty handed.
“Exactly. The good times are many, but the intensity of the grief just the same, as if to balance it out. As you said, we cannot appreciate the good without the bad, can we?”
Stefi nodded.
“There is no word in your language or any of ours for this phenomenon. I think that is why it is so frightening. A name tames something, shows our power over it. This feeling, these two conflicting feelings-”
“Life!” Stefi exclaimed. “That’s what it should be called.”
Cédes cocked her head quizzically. “And why is that?”
“I mean, that’s what it is, when you get down to it. It wouldn’t be much of anything, let alone a real life, without all these different feelings now, would it?”
Cédes smiled, amused but also surprised by her friend’s decision. “A name so obvious no one would have ever thought it.”
That evening the distant landmass had grown exponentially in size, almost as if it had swallowed the ocean and rushed headlong to spread beneath them. Hills covered in stunted grass rose in large waves upon its back, and copses of weathered pines clustered together as if for company in the lonely landscape. Nothing remarkable, Stefi noted, except the strange shimmering band that cut straight through the landscape like a ribbon. One minute it ran across level ground, the next it appeared to float right over valleys and beneath hills.
“A road?” Adnamis asked as she stood alongside her.
“Perhaps,” Stefi said, still holding the ferrets like a child might cling fast to beloved stuffed toys. “Maybe a river?
“Seems a bit too straight,” Adnamis said. She shook her head, turned to Stefi, and adjusted her glasses. “But whatever it is, we’re about to find out. I came here to let you know the stone’s dying fast. We’re losing altitude.”
Stefi took in a breath, held it for a moment, released it. It didn’t slow her racing heart. “So we’ll crash?”
“Bingo. And soon by the looks of it.” She said it as if that sort of thing happened to her all the time. Even now the trees were looming large and threatening to scrape the airship’s hull.
Moments later, just that happened. A wind-bent pine reared up beneath the ship and slammed against the wooden hull. With a shock that threw everyone to the deck, boards shattered and splintered, and the ship spun as if caught in a strong tide.
“Rhaka!” Stefi cried as the Otsukuné skittered across the deck, his claws unable to find a hold. Another tree rushed to meet them, then another, each battering the small ship and tearing holes. Cédes clung to Stefi, and Stefi to Adnamis and the dead ferrets.
With a terrifying crash of tortured metal, the remaining engine was torn free and tumbled to earth, burying itself in the ground. But the noises kept on coming, roaring in Stefi’s ears, until a boom washed over her and swept away her consciousness.
“You are awake.”
Stefi eased open her weary eyes to find her mother leaning over her. She could barely make out the features blurred against the morning sky.
“Running off with the ferrets like that! You had me worried, young lady. And now you go and wind up in a crashed flying ship?”
Just then her father’s voice joined that of her mother’s. It was crueler, angrier. “Running away again? I’ll strap you good this time!”
“I didn’t do anything…” Stefi croaked. Her own voice sounded flat, dead, carrying no force.
“Oh, yes you did.” Suddenly her father’s face, contorted with rage, appeared before her. “And you won’t get away with it!”
“No,” Stefi said, her voice quickly finding strength as her hand formed a fist. “I hate you. I hate you!” Her fist flew forward and struck-
“Cédes?”
Her eyes shot open again and there was Cédes, her eyes burning with a familiar warmth while a liquid of the same color ran from her nose.
“Yes, it is I,” Cédes said coldly, her anger firmly in check. But, Stefi thought, maybe it would have been better if she did yell. At least then she would know what she was feeling.
“Oh god, I’m really sorry. I thought you were… my…”
“I realize that,” Cédes said and pinched her nose. “You were talking in your sleep. I do not wish to pry, though you seemed afraid of someone harming you. So you lashed out in defense. Accidents happen.”
“I didn’t mean to. Honestly.”
“Obviously. I cannot help but feel the pain regardless.”
Stefi stood up and, rubbing her sore head, looked at her surroundings. They were in a large clearing amongst broken and crushed trees, and some distance off to her right was the wreck of the airship Viva. It listed heavily to one side as if taking on water. It would never sink. Or fly again, for that matter. Djidou and Adnamis clambered over the wreck, picking through what was left. Someone was missing.
“Where’s Rhaka?”
Cédes, still pinching her nose to stem the flow of blood, replied with a heady tone, “I do not know.” She even seemed sad somehow, despite their past disagreements.
“I saw him slipping…” Stefi said. “You don’t think he fell, do you?”
“I am afraid that is most likely.”
Upon hearing the news, Stefi found herself strangely bereft of tears. The Otsukuné had saved her life and been her constant companion, had even shed some light on the branching road before her. And if he hadn’t been following her to save her from the Dazrhug…
“I’ll miss him,” was all she could think to say. “I know it’s wrong, but I just feel
empty. Too empty to feel anything more right now, even sadness.”
“I know the feeling, dear heart. That is how I felt before you came along. Every day was the same. Pleasant, yet also somewhat empty and stagnant. I yearned for change.”
“Is this what you had in mind?” Stefi asked.
“Are you joking?” Cédes replied. A smile flickered behind her bloodied hand.
“Yes.”
“No, this is not what I had in mind. It is better.” She released her nose, the blood finally stilled, and wiped herself down with a scrap of cloth from her pack.
“You may be looking for the ferrets, too,” Cédes continued when she was finished. She handed Stefi a small wooden box with Mafouran writing scribbled across the top in a rough hand.
Stefi took it, feeling weight inside. She said nothing so Cédes did.
“We are on land. Perhaps now we ought to lay them to rest.”
Stefi nodded. The box seemed to grow heavier in her hands, weighted by the happy times once shared, but not by the bad. Only the small things: sitting in the sun together, sharing lunch, content in each other’s company. Countless tiny memories, infinitesimally light yet heavy with happiness. Although the thought of going on without them was so much heavier.
Together Stefi and Cédes found a sheltered spot at the base of a small pine, atop a rise that offered an expansive view of the broad hill that rolled away before it. The sun was filtering through the pine needles, scattering flecks of light and a fresh scent upon the air.
The two friends knelt down and dug out a hole in the fragrant earth with their hands. They placed the box in the ground.
“What does the writing say?” Stefi asked, still kneeling, her dirty hands clasped together.
“To those beyond the bounds of the Dream, beyond the reach of the Bridge, may you find comfort in the presence of the First, both Star and Soul.”
“Sounds nice. Thank you.”
“Perhaps you would like to offer a prayer?”
Stefi shook her head. “I’ve never been one to pray. Religion always seems to bring about such nasty things.” She let out a deep sigh that caught in her throat. “I just hope that they’re happy, wherever they are. If they are.”
As she smoothed the earth over the box, Stefi felt a hand slip about her shoulder and a head rest against her. “I will never leave you.”
“I know that.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“All I want,” Stefi said, voice cracking, “is to go home with my ferrets.”
“I am afraid we cannot do that. Will going home with me suffice?”
“Yeah. Only if I can find the strength to just get whatever I need to do over with already.”
Cédes squeezed Stefi’s shoulder. “Are you all right? Truly all right?”
“No,” Stefi admitted. “And somehow, I don’t think I will be again.”
“Where did you find that pot?” Sansonis asked, quite perplexed at seeing Ifaut cooking over a small driftwood fire of orange and blue flames. A brief walk the day after coming to had revealed no other signs of life about them. Not that he got far, sapped of his strength by the sun. At least Ifaut had gotten dressed. And, much to his embarrassment, eased his sunburn by rubbing him with wild aloe vera.
“House,” she replied simply, her eyes never leaving the bubbling contents.
“House? Where?”
“Over there,” she said and pointed into the forest. “But don’t distract me. I’m cooking.”
Sansonis sighed and followed her finger, knowing by now that he’d never get a straight answer out of her. He saw nothing.
“When’s it going to be ready?”
“Now!” she said cheerily and lifted the pot from the flames. “You must be hungry. Here.” She thrust it and a spoon in his direction.
“Thank you,” he said and took a sip as she watched eagerly.
“What do you think?” she asked, her eyes shining.
“It’s great. But again, where did you find the pot?”
“Oh, that. I found an old house further out in those trees. I don’t think anyone’s lived there for a long time though. It smelled cold and lonely.”
“Can you show me?”
She didn’t answer. Dodging the question, and not very nimbly at that, she asked, “Is the soup good?”
“Yes, but the house?”
Ifaut fidgeted with her kamae necklace, refusing to make eye contact. “It would be best if you not look at it.”
“And why is that?” he asked as his frustration mounted.
“Nothing there.”
“You know, judging by the way your eyes are darting about, I’d say there’s something you don’t want me to see.”
“You’re right.” She scrambled forward and clutched his arm, nearly spilling hot soup on him. “I love you, you know that. More than I should. But this… this will hurt you too much.”
“I don’t need protecting,” he said. She jumped.
“If I told you that it looks like Kalkics used to live there then you’d probably want to leave me behind and run off and try to find them!”
“You tried to keep that from me?” He put the pot down on the fire. “Don’t you think that’s worse than telling me? I’m not a damn child! And do you really think I’d just leave you after everything we’ve been through?” He shook the Furosan from his arm.
“But… I love you,” she whimpered.
“Stop acting so damn clingy, then. Grow up, will you?”
At that she burst into tears and clung pathetically to his leg, digging in her claws without even noticing.
Sansonis looked down at the pitiable sight and felt a darkness normally reserved for other occasions begin to descend over his eyes. Ifaut felt it too.
“Now you want to kill me?” she whispered.
He nearly said yes. He didn’t know what it was, what had brought on the sudden urge to harm her. Her mention that Kalkics were once here? Her fickle, somewhat frustrating behavior? Whatever it was, a part of him wanted to pull out a knife and plunge it into that stupid, clingy Furosan’s heart and watch her bleed to death all over the stony beach. Another part wanted to embrace her and beg for forgiveness.
“Kill me if you want,” she said. “It would be better than losing you.”
An unwilling hand crept to an empty scabbard on his belt.
“If my death is what you want,” she sighed, “I accept it.” She stared at his eyes and was surprised to see him struggling, as if arguing with an inner self. “But if not… I love-”
Sansonis kicked his leg so hard that Ifaut tumbled across the stones of the beach and he sprang forward, grabbing a knife from beside the fire.
‘No,’ he told himself. ‘I don’t want this!’
Of course you do, another voice, coldly pleasant, chimed in from somewhere within his head. All she’s done is hang around like some unwelcome pest. A clingy, nasty, little parasite.
‘That might be true,’ his voice of reason argued back, ‘but she’s my little pest.’ He felt himself lurch forward unwillingly, propelled by whatever voice the darkness in him now seemed to possess.
Kill it, spill the dirty Furosan’s blood. But careful not to stain your hands. That is a stain even I could not remove.
‘And just who are you?’ Sansonis felt himself growing weaker, the voice taking more and more control as he staggered across the beach.
Your innermost desires, the innermost desires of every human. The one the humans so readily and blindly worship like a god. Call me Kardin.
Through his own fogging eyes he could see Ifaut coming closer, and the knife clutched in his own wavering hand. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
A strange expression flickered across Ifaut’s face, and in a movement so fast he could barely register it she scooped up a handful of pebbles and flung them at his face. He staggered backwards and suddenly a fist crashed against the side of his face and screaming filled his ears. “You’re not my Sansonis!”
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‘That,’ Sansonis told the voice as his consciousness faded, ‘is why she is my pest.’
It didn’t take long for Stefi and Cédes to bid farewell to Djidou and Adnamis. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, those two had chosen to stay with their beloved ship Viva, insistent that it would fly once more. Yet with its flightstone dead and Fairun’s stone safely in her pocket, Stefi didn’t fancy their chances.
“Thanks for everything,” she said. “We’ll come back for you later.”
Djidou laughed. “Yeah, right! Once this thing’s flying again we’ll be the ones coming for you.”
“Where are you going?” Adnamis asked from behind cracked glasses. “And what about the dog thing? Rhaka?”
“We’re following that river or whatever it is,” Stefi said. “Cédes seems to think it’ll take us somewhere. And as for Rhaka…” She fell silent, consumed by the guilt of not searching for him. However, she imagined he would’ve told her not to worry about him anyway, to carry on and follow her own path. Still…
“If he turns up, we’ll point him in the right direction,” Djidou said. “Don’t you worry. I’ll lend you a compass to help you keep your bearings, but…” He pulled one from his pocket and tossed it to Stefi. She caught it and looked at its face. The needle spun wildly, skittering between the four points. “I don’t think it’ll be much use here. Seems the land’s magnetized or there’s some other interference in the air.”
And with that they parted ways, Stefi and Cédes intending to follow what looked like a river, and Djidou and Adnamis laboring to restore their ship. And Rhaka… only he knew.