River’s End ch 3: Stand Back! I’ve Got Sauce!

My heart squeaked, racing as if pursued by some predator. There was nowhere to flee, though, and nothing to outrun. I might as well have stood on a tiny, sinking island in an ocean with no shores in sight.

“Don’t say such things aloud, Fredo. You’ll give the universe ideas.” My attempt at levity crumbled into a breathless whine.

He didn’t tease me for it, lips set in a grim stroke. His gaze held steady, but I sensed he also felt adrift.

I shoved the feeling away and backpedaled, head wagging. Distance. Would distance help?

“Distance makes no difference with a mykta’s bond,” Fredo supplied.

I knew that. A member of my uncle’s entourage spent most of his life traipsing between galaxies, and my uncle lived those adventures through him.

If we were more confident in this, I might have left Fredo here as a connection to home. As it was, all I had were his nightmares and a niggling at the back of my mind.

I would rather have him with me, a sturdy shoulder to lean on.

He was kind of a weapon, not in the way Lafdo had alluded to, but he was brave, uncannily accurate, and had a knack for pulling solutions out of thin air. I didn’t intend to fight, but should the situation where I must defend myself arise, how would Fredo feel, trapped here unable to help?

“Kietyn said to go alone,” I admitted, “but that is based on the assumption that you still live in the dungeons and I forgot about you long ago.”

That tugged the corner of his mouth into a slight smirk. “You gave me no peace in there, always unlocking the door and insisting I come on an adventure with you.”

I met his gaze, sheepish, scared, and thrilled. “If you want to go with me this time, meet me at the citadel’s gates just before dawn’s fingers reach the western hills.”

I had no doubt he would be there.

* * *

When I returned to my room, the blossoms of my bed were beginning to open for the night in anticipation of my company, but they would put me in too deep a sleep. Darkness was brief on Seallaii, and I needed to leave before the sun rose in the west.

After a short nap in my reading chair, I withdrew emergency funds from the treasury, then got out my dyes. A few visible differences existed between the Grenswa-nas and us. Dollii was right: To get the first word, I couldn’t be a foreigner at first glance. I needed a simple disguise, and it needed to be waterproof.

With the ingredients whipped into a thick, metallic pink paste, I smeared it from my eyelids to my ears. After dipping the first joint of each toe and finger in the concoction, I carefully swabbed the tips of my nails clean, added lines for texture, then applied a sealant over it all.

Inspecting my handiwork, I chuckled at the irony. Grenswa-nas breathed through this colored, scaly part of their skin in a process called cutaneous respiration. Thanks to the paste and sealant, my skin in these areas would not be able to breathe.

The rest of my olive complexion wouldn’t be a problem. As with many human-like beings, the Grenswa-na epidermis came in a range of browns, from the fairest cream to the richest ebony. My skin’s flower-petal texture differed from their amphibious, shark-like weave, but that wouldn’t be noticeable if I didn’t allow anyone to touch me.

I would also be too tall and thickly structured, and while I knew of medicines that could quickly emaciate me, I opted against those dangerous drugs and hoped no one would notice how well-endowed I was.

Satisfied with my disguise and the scant contents of my messenger bag, I stepped into a pair of clunky, brown shoes and threw a hooded cloak around my shoulders. Its pale, velvety gray melted into the hallway’s uneven shadows. At regular intervals, one or two of the stones set in the walls glowed at my approach and dimmed after I passed.

Excitement lent a spring to my step at first, but the further I walked, the more my giddiness soured into unease. I had never traveled far from the citadel without a mentor and an educational objective. This seemed like an act of defiance. I was supposed to leave unnoticed, yet my crisscrossing, copper belts clinked with every step. So did the beads dangling from the datapin stabbed crookedly through my pretzel-inspired bun. I grabbed them both, one arm pressed to my torso and other hand hovering near my ear.

I probably looked both hard of hearing and nauseated.

To spite my wish for stealth, the knees of my soft, black capris rustled against my shirt’s hem of overlapping triangles, their tarnished-copper green reflecting the stones’ luminescence.

I pulled my cloak tighter and lifted my scarf to cover my nose. In view of the previous day’s experiences, its deep russet and pale gray fabric was breathe-through but not see-through. It was a refuge to hide in, concealing my face from the cheeks down and snaking around my neck to drape over my bosom.

It let me pretend no one could see me.

Who was I kidding? Of course they could see me traipsing down the grand staircase. The steps were wide, shallow, and plentiful, looping around the grand hall, the most open space in the citadel. No rooms were above it, only a glass ceiling. Moonlight bathed the opalite pillars and ancient rugs. Seallaii had over thirty moons, so our nights were never truly dark.

Pillar shadows striped my path, and the Sentinels’ brilliant eyes flashed in my mind.

They watch us too closely.

Were they watching now? Could they see me flouncing down the most obvious path in my home?

Where was Fredo? The enormous gates that barred entrance to the citadel’s main hall loomed at the bottom of these stairs, but my guard was nowhere in sight. Had he run into those mechanical soldiers, and had they taken revenge? What if he lay dying within the passages somewhere? Surely, I would be able to tell.

What if this was that premonition?

I had opened my mouth to ask the citadel when a loud crack echoed through the hall. I dove over the railing into the safety of deep shadows. Was that the sound of an arrow striking the wall just above my head? A sword stabbing the floor behind my back? A bullet smashing into the rail at my heels?

I landed in someone’s arms, and they cradled me firmly as panic insisted I fight. A scream rose, but a hand clamped over my mouth.

“If stealth is a priority, I suggest you remain quiet, Rosa,” Fredo whispered in my ear.

I stilled, heart pounding.

He held in a laugh. “If you bothered to listen to my thoughts, you would know I rigged several things to go crack, bump, and whoosh to provide a little fun for anyone watching.”

I hugged him tightly as he set me down. “You’re a genius!”

“But not an eteriq. See, purple eyes.”

“Regarding those eyes of yours, I brought something to match them, but you’ll have to put it on later.” I grabbed his hand and tugged him after me. A non-River Guardian was not supposed to touch a River Guardian, but he had ignored that rule plenty of times in the past, more frequently of late, and I didn’t mind.

“If your gift is a purple tutu, I’ll kill you.”

I scoffed, louder now as we left the walls of the citadel. Our shoes crunched against the gravel path leading into Rokanaye Forest. The trees here were massive and entwined, leaves a pale blue like fog and trunks the deep color of plums.

“In my dreams,” he told me, “which you see and participate in, I could kill you over and over.”

“That’s disturbing!”

He ignored my denouncement and inspected our surroundings. “We should have taken the catacombs beneath the forest.”

“That’s so claustrophobic. The forest is much more beautiful.” Arms wide, I spun in a swift circle.

Fredo shrugged, gaze still wandering. “The eteriq say beauty is a deception and distraction.”

I swung around him and slid my hands over his eyes. “Would you reject all beauty, then?”

“I would rather see your face.”

I let go and ducked around him, pickpocketing the tablet from his belt. Mine was back in my room in case anyone tried to track it. “Is that your way of calling me beautiful or something else?”

“You certainly are a distraction. And easily distracted. What are you doing?”

I walked backward, fingers flying over the touchscreen. The hand-sized, flat trapezoid buzzed with each contact. “I’m listening. Keep talking,” I mumbled with a wave.

“I asked a question. It’s your turn to talk.”

“Huh, that’s nice.”

He plucked the device out of my hand. “You didn’t hear anything I said. Why are you looking up permits of merchant ships going to Grenswa?”

I wiggled my painted fingers. “Why do you think I’m also wearing Grenswa-na scales?”

One might think these should have been the first clue, but I applied such makeup for fun sometimes.

Fredo’s eyes widened, then dropped into a serious frown. “Your sister wants those xenophobes to kill us off.”

“How pessimistic! My sister cares a great deal about me, and she doesn’t know you’re going.”

“If she did, she would have one of her mykta shoot me,” he grumbled.

“Because she worries for me. I finally have a chance to be of use to her.” I snatched back the tablet. “Plus, we get to have an adventure.”

“I’m here to remind you how dangerous this adventure will turn out.” He lifted a leafy branch out of my way, but a dry note flattened his voice.

I caught it and sent it right back, raking my gaze along him as I passed. “Well, I’m here to remind you how fun life can be. While I didn’t pack any purple tutus, I do wish you would have worn something that didn’t shout Seallaii-na mykta.”

The most feared creatures on our world, scyuen, shed their scales in spring. Their discarded hide provided the material for the obsidian chevrons that formed his chest plate, greave-boots, and arm guards. Beneath those, his suit of chain mail shone like hematite, crafted from slivers of scyuen claws. His throwing knives waited in sheaths on the back-left of his belt, while other weapons rested in well-hidden pockets. My Sine pattern was even scrawled twice in silver on his right vambrace.

Fredo released the branch and crossed his arms. “This is my favorite outfit. If I’m going to be running for our lives, I want to be comfortable.”

“We won’t be running for our lives if you blend in better.”

“Then thank you for telling me where we’re going. You make it so easy to plan ahead.”

I mimicked his stance. “I thought you could read my mind.”

“Let’s test that reciprocally: How do I feel right now?”

I knew, a knowledge as innate as my limbs reporting where they were. Like being able to tell how many fingers I held up behind my back, I knew Fredo was there.

“You’re annoyed at me,” I whispered.

“Because?” One eyebrow rose.

“For too many reasons.” My arms held each other. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I felt his hands on my shoulders a moment before they landed there, and the blue foliage became a blur as he spun me to face him.

“We need to talk about this because it’s growing. You take part in nearly every dream I have now, sometimes even when you’re awake.”

“Only when it really affects you.”

“And when something really affects you, that’s what I see. It’s not going away. I can even reach out to your mind like reaching out my hand to you, but…” His voice stopped, yet I heard the words anyway, just like I did in his dreams.

I spoke them aloud. “We’re not supposed to have this bond.”

“We need to tell our honored elders.”

“They’ll take you away!” I threw my arms around his middle.

His hands were light on my back. “I won’t let them.”

“Promise?”

His answer was delivered to my mind in a steel box. ‘Would I say it if I didn’t mean it? I won’t leave you.’

“Then, when we get back, we’ll tell someone I trust.”

“Dollii already knows.”

I had suspected that.

“I meant someone who will know what to do.”

Like my Sine uncle. What would he say? He had mykta of his own, ones approved by all parties, not with dubious origins like Fredo.

What if it turned into a huge ordeal, if our bond was forbidden and the only way to stop it was to kill one of us? I knew which one they would choose. What would I do?

My hold around Fredo’s waist cinched tighter. Surely, he felt my fear.

He patted the top of my head. “Cheer up. It’s always been your dream to travel and have adventures far beyond the citadel.”

The tablet beeped, and while it had nothing to do with my arms around Fredo, I realized I gave him no personal space. I scampered back and lifted the screen to see what it had to say.

“It’s found us a ride, but we’ll have to hurry.”

* * *

It was a long hike, and as the sun rose above the distant Seekii Hills, hunger grumbled in my stomach. Fortunately, the Rokanaye Forest offered plenty of wild fruit, berries, and gourds. We didn’t stop to eat, picking food and chewing as we walked.

“Did you know if you bite a baffble and a blasc at the same time, it doesn’t taste like anything?” Fredo mused. “It’s like the tartness of one is cancelled out by the extreme blandness of the other.”

“Maybe you should make a sauce and call it Fredo’s Taste of Nothingness.” I laughed too loud at my own joke. The bushes rustled, and I hopped closer to my guard. “What was that?”

“What do you think it was?”

It was probably a geunda or some other small, innocuous forest creature, but my heart refused to leave my throat until I knew for sure Saurids hadn’t surrounded us.

Movement to the right caught my eye, and I whirled, back-to-back with Fredo. He kept walking like none of this was a big deal.

Was that a scaly tail or a stick wet with dew peeking out of that shrub? A talon or a rock beneath that hedge?

Because one time it was a tail. It was a talon. It was a mouth full of teeth larger than my fingers.

Old scenes flashed through my mind: a ravine with massive trees coating its sides like fuzz. A nest full of tiny eggs my teacher wanted fifteen-year-old me to see. Gentle rain. Rapid lightning and quiet thunder. An electric green eye the size of my head.

Scaled and feathered bird-like bodies painted blue by moonlight melted up from the undergrowth.

My teacher had apologized as was custom when one ran into a Saurid hunting party. They were Seallaii’s other sapient species, and we mostly tried to stay out of each other’s way.

They had accepted my teacher’s words. And Fredo’s. And Dollii’s. But not mine because “Eteriq are a blight on this land carved for us by the Minshyal.”

Basically, they didn’t think their god-like creature—which wasn’t intelligent and wouldn’t have survived aboveground anyway—would approve of me living. So, they tried to kill me.

One pounced. His teeth snapped a hairsbreadth from my face. Fredo held his tail. The brawl began—Fredo and Dollii versus five natural killers. The sound of blades against bone rang in my ears. The metallic scent of blood clogged my nostrils. I couldn’t breathe.

“Rosa, stop. You’re making yourself hyperventilate.” Fredo’s warm palms on my shoulders were an anchor holding me here in the present.

I put my hands atop his. “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Try purposely thinking of something else.” His voice was like a calming tea, but his eyes darted to every flicker of shadow. I wasn’t only scaring myself. My fear was contagious.

“Do you purposely think of other things when you’re trying not to pull me into your nightmares?”

He let go and walked on. “Yes.”

Then it doesn’t always work.

I puffed my cheeks. Did my emotions have to pour into him? Or could I choose what I wanted to share? Was there a way to keep myself from experiencing his deepest fears?

With a long sigh, Fredo slowed. “Have you read the book Samayale Drobele Lerstes?”

“Beyond the Edge of the Universe?” I held a finger to my lips, deep in thought, but I didn’t recall having seen that title. “Practicing your Laysis reading skills?”

He shrugged and grabbed a handful of berries from an overladen bush. “The Shlykrii-na ambassador made me wonder what literature the citadel’s library had in his language, and that’s what caught my eye.”

“Which library?”

“Fourth floor, north wing.”

The one closest to Dollii’s room and her favorite. I pictured the three-sided hall and scanned my memories of its shelves, but it wasn’t until Fredo said, “The cover’s gray with a planet etched into it,” that I found a match.

Snapping my fingers, I hurried to catch up. “It’s a historical account of the first time Sojourners took Shlykrii-nas beyond our galaxy. They encountered an empire called Napix.”

As a reward, I snatched a berry from his hand and popped it in my mouth. The sour tang pulled my cheeks between my teeth and rendered my eyes watery slits.

Fredo discarded the rest of the handful. “The version I read last night was pure fiction.”

Through my shriveled throat, my, “How so?” sounded more like an inhale.

Fredo spun me around and lightly rubbed my spine. “The Napix-na aliens had ridiculous abilities like spontaneous combustion or moving objects without touching them.”

“Is that so impossible?” I cleared my throat and turned to face him. “Even things we consider normal, like our tablets’ wireless connection to the databases, would seem farfetched to someone who didn’t know the science that makes them work.”

His nod fell as gradual as a sinking sun. “Someone who didn’t know would probably also exaggerate the tablets’ abilities.”

“Would that make it fiction, though? I mean, yes, by our definition. Our storytellers include the impossible to make it obvious that these events didn’t really happen, but this Shlykrii-na author recorded the truth as he saw it.”

Fredo’s mouth twisted to the side, and I mirrored the expression, standing on the edge of an epiphany with stars filling my view. I had read about so many worlds, but knowledge gleaned from books was a shadow compared to firsthand experience. If I had stood alongside that first intergalactic-travelling Shlykrii-na, what would I have thought of the creatures of Napix?

My heel struck a stair, and I stumbled. Walking backward wasn’t the wisest, especially as we reached the outskirts of the Village of Vefii with its porous carpet of moss on stone staircases and structures built into the precipitous lay of the land. It allowed me the best view of Fredo’s reactions, though. Watching him process information was just as fun as watching him sink knives into an army of practice dummies.

He caught me without breaking stride. “Point is, the Napix-na monsters aren’t real, but if they were, they’d be scarier than Saurids.”

“So frightful! How would we ever fight them?” I said in falsetto, hands framing my cheeks.

He laughed. “I could feed them Fredo’s Taste of Nothingness.”

“Surely, they would know better than to eat foreign foods not approved for their consumption.” As we descended a curved slope onto a wider, more beaten path between the trees, I whispered, “You know what I told you about the Sojourner who ate an Earth-na tomato.”

That story was highly classified, as were any that detailed a Sojourner breaking rules or doing foolish things. The contents of nearly all my lessons were considered classified, though.

“Earth-na food sounds dangerous.” Fredo seemed too intrigued by the prospect. “With the right ingredients, my Taste of Nothingness sauce could actually be a weapon.”

With a guffaw, I plucked another baffble and wielded it as a prop. “Stand back! I’ve got sauce!”

Fredo raised a finger, perhaps in judgement, perhaps in warning. Before he got a word out, I fell over backward.

Continued in chapter 4: Oh High Heavens! We're All Going to Prison!

Thank you for reading!