Chymaera's Overture: a Shadowed Ways novel Page 5

  Maala lay down then and curled herself around her daughter. At first she struggled to steady the child, but she couldn’t. The child was everything, and nothing. Whether the parental pairing was faulty or the chaos of her birth and loss of guidance of her mother were to blame, we could not know. Still, Maala’s child never coalesced into a single form. Over the next few hours, the flashes grew dimmer, and the shadow shrank as Maala slowly pulled the child back into herself. Had the child showed a flicker of self-awareness, Maala would have fought for her, but her daughter was, incomplete. I released Nana, who appeared to have her seething under wraps, now that the crisis had passed. She glared at me as she returned to her human guise. I wanted to shudder at the bite in her eyes, but her words were distant and civil, “Good work, but we’ve only just begun. We will talk about the other, later.”, with that she whirled away and went to gather Nakissa and Mama. I brought Emily and Elise around to comfort the stricken Maala and to keep watch over her for the many hours ahead.

  There was no way to keep a lid on what just happened, but we kept it as quiet as we could. For the first hour I wakened Thumbras in small groups, allowing them their sadness, but tempering the fear and anger. We sent as many of them home as quickly as we could. Because the child’s father was human and expecting a baby to come back with his wife, the next part was delicate.

  Nana had to simulate a child, one with a defect that made it incompatible with life. The midwife would turn over the body to the human authorities who handled such things. It was important that Maala and her family wouldn’t be blamed or investigated. To make matters worse, Maala had to give Nana part of the genetic material she held within herself to pass the human tests. We shut ourselves away in the privacy of the back cavern to accomplish this. Nana did it all, but she talked me through the process. She grew a childlike appendage from her palm and shed the form, just as humans shed a layer of dead skin. I had held it together the entire night, but I cried when I held the deception wrapped in receiving blankets. Mama eased the grieving mother back into her civilian attire while guiding her in creating a more intimate counterfeit. It pained me we had to engineer a lie to mourn while denying the depth of our loss. Maala alternated between a stony shock and inconsolable tears, but that was to be expected and she had a husband to face, so I had to let her be.

  Once they were all gone, it was just Nana, Mama and I. It was supposed to be my job to perform the ceremonial offering for the loss of life, but I wasn’t up to it. Nana shed hair and nails containing trace amounts of her essence, and while she spoke the sacred words, I burned inside.

  Somehow I got dressed in my everyday clothes and trudged up the canyon wall awash in rain and lightning. I didn’t want to spend a couple of hours with any member of my family or clan. When I reached the car, Mama and Nana were trailing me so I kept walking, then running into the night. I heard them calling me, demanding my return, but I ignored them as thunder filled my ears. Their pleas on a breeze meant nothing. I walled myself off in my grief. A wounded animal bayed in the night and I think it was me.

  6 - Running Up That Treadmill

  Kai

  Kai was laughing at the T&A in some forgettable teen dramedy when his evening lost its entertainment value. First, he caught a twinge of something that brushed against his cheek. Just an otherness that didn’t belong. Following on its heels came a tug on his mind that prickled his skin. As the laughter died in his throat, Kai heard the sorrowful baying of an animal as if it were in the room and nearly came out of his chair. The rest of the theater was packed and oblivious to whatever he was experiencing.

  The crying of the animal washed through him and grew into a debilitating despair with speed and ease. He doubled over in his seat to gain his bearings, to figure out where these feelings were coming from. The cacophony of sadness within him deafened him to his surroundings and sapped him of will. Barely able to form a thought–but recognizing a familiarity, he figured it had to be his mother, Yesmin; she keened in grief. Only death explained the depth of pain that pummeled his senses. Like a punch-drunk brawler he stumbled to a stand and pushed his way blindly to the aisle. Hands slapped at him, but he moved on, swaying on unsteady feet. He’d climbed a few steps towards the exit when strong hands grabbed him that refused to let go.

  “Cuzzo, it’s me.” Kai stopped struggling and let Kels half carry, half drag him through the theater. “Home Kels. Someone is dead. Umma, Umma needs me.” Kels grunted and slung Kai over his shoulder, moving with a steady stride through the onlookers. He couldn’t focus at all in the bright lights of the lobby but he heard Kels telling everyone he was tripping balls. God, how he wished.

  Kels launched him into the truck like a sack of potatoes and sped home. The riotous clamor in his head receded, and Kai tried to think past the pain. On some level he realized his mother was unlikely to lose control enough to project her lament like this. Nor would she direct such torment towards him. It was his nighttime caller come again. Though that was the probable culprit, he couldn’t accept his vulnerability to a complete stranger. He wouldn’t be certain until he saw Yesmin. Nearer to home the emotional disturbance continued to lessen in strength until it became background noise. Present, but not commanding all his attention.

  Kels rolled to a stop in the gravel driveway, and Kai jumped out of the truck, opening the screen door before his cousin set the parking brake. He shoved the front door and barreled in just as his mother came around the corner and stunned him to an abrupt halt.

  “Kai, what?” Kai searched her face, noticed the pain etched in her eyes. He absorbed two things in a second. For one, his mother was not the source of his tumult. For another, she understood what had caused it. “You know?” he sputtered.

  Yesmin’s eyes narrowed and brittled, sudden shards of glass as she studied the child of her heart. Her voice sounded both bitter and curious, “They lost a child tonight, in the wind. I felt her come and go - as I am aware of the beginning and end of you all. But how did you know?”

  In the wind. His mind reeled. In the wind was how they referred to the splinter group that had left them before Kai was even born.

  “The splinters have lost someone? How? Can you tell who it was?” Kai’s inquisitive nature overtook him. The splinters were an embarrassment to his mother and as a result, were rarely spoken of. Her eldest daughter, Duana, led the group that had fled the greater Thumbra community after a disagreement. They’d traveled before settling, attempting to find land unspoiled by other Thumbras. They were scattered from the American Southwest further south and east to include parts of the Caribbean now. Except for the Pacific Northwest, Thumbras loyal to Yesmin had abandoned much of North America to other creatures. Kai and a tiny portion of his Thumbra family lived in Oregon because of his father’s work and a close bond with the local Keros-Ki. That the mourner had projected several hundreds of miles or more was daunting.

  At that moment, both Leah and Kels, eager and concerned, entered the foyer. They all stood at right angles to one another with quizzical looks on all faces save one. Yesmin regarded her son with grave concern, “They lost a child tonight, a child that should have never been conceived, she was one of the forbidden. Kai, answer my question. How did you know?”

  Silence hung, overburdened. His was not the kind of mother you hid things from. “Someone was there, she projected her grief, and it overwhelmed me.” Her eyes bore into him. “It is the second time I’ve felt her, I think.” It wasn’t until he spoke that Kai realized whoever it was, was female.

  “Into my study. All of you.” Yesmin led the way and none hesitated to follow her. Though Kai didn’t fear his mother, her scrutiny was something he’d prefer to not be under. He was not that lucky. Once in the plush room that looked like a cross between a library and a solarium; she pulled him to the leather chaise and seated him, facing him. He heard the others find their chairs, but only saw Yesmin. She cradled his hands in her own, a gentle gesture, but he could sense the vise underneath. She was direct, “From the b
eginning, tell me everything.”

  That is what he told her. Everything. He recounted every moment from when he woke in a panic and tore around the house like a maniac, to the events in the theater. He tried to ignore the embarrassment he felt at both his reactions, and his reluctance to share such experiences. When he finished, there was silence and the most unexpected expression on his mother’s face. Relief.

  “This is a good thing. She is reaching out to you, she doesn’t know it yet, but destiny does. You are her bridge, son, you are her bridge.” She placed his hands on the chaise and patted them.

  Kai’s confusion was total. “Who is reaching out? How? What do you mean by a bridge?”

  Yesmin turned to keep them all in her gaze. “My heir. She is coming into her time.”

  A hush stole over them, a living thing that touched and filled them all with questions no one was ready to broach. Kai, Leah and Kels didn’t dare look at one another, though they gaped at Yesmin. She’d never given them her age, but they figured her to be approximately 25,000 years old, give or take millennia or two. She was also the only Queen they’d ever known. The only one to walk Earth. She’d occasionally spoken of an heir to come, someone strong enough to allow her to rest–they’d all assumed it was a dream.

  “How long have you known who she was?” Leah was soft-spoken, yet as direct as her mother.

  “I have followed many over time who showed potential; she is one I have known of.”

  “And she is a splinter, of all things!”

  “She is your sister’s granddaughter.”

  If any of them had been given to melodrama, that revelation would have been enough to induce a gasp or two. Instead, it produced uneasy looks from all.

  “Enough. She is young yet; she has many years to mature and be trained by me once her path leads her here. The new Queen will need a new perspective, and what better way than to be one of us who isn’t one of us? You boys can go, rest. Leah, I need you to stay. There is much to go over. There is something off down there, that child–Duana should have caught that, something troubling is heading their way; perhaps we can intervene. We need to reach out. Kels, I hate to ask it of you–but I need you to skip the gathering of your pack this month. I want you and Kai to stay close. Your Queen may require your service.” With the end of her pronouncement, Yesmin stood and glided towards her desk.

  Dismissed, Kels and Kai glanced at each other. Wisps of the mourner drifted around Kai’s head; she seemed familiar now and not so frightening since she wasn’t crushing him. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could fill his mother’s shoes. Especially someone as impetuous and untrained as this being seemed. He considered an odd tingle creeping along his extremities, “Your Queen may require your service”, Yesmin rarely reminded them of her position or their duty. That she chose to now made him wonder how quickly change would come and how deep it would go. He also still wondered what Yesmin had meant when she called him the stranger’s “bridge”. Thumbras live long and change slowly; they weren’t fond of surprises.

  Kels shrugged, he looked unconcerned, but he always looked that way, “Guess I better tell the boys not to expect me.” Kai watched him lumber out of the room. He’d head to the edge of the woods before he’d shift into his wolf form, the preferred alter of his pack. His father considered it rude if he approached pack land in human form and his father was the local pack’s leader. Kai wouldn’t see his cousin until the following day.

  Kai headed off to his own room. He needed to process, to think. He was used to having more information available to him and this all seemed so vague. While he had resolved to prepare for change and train harder, he hadn’t expected whatever was actually occurring. It put him on edge and his carefree teenage persona slipped away. Yesmin’s son had gone out for some mindless fun; the Queen’s soldier had returned.

  7 - One step closer, one knock further

  Chymaera

  I tried to run myself into the ground that night; to run down the anger, the grief, and the freaking horrific helplessness I felt. It was to no avail. Still, I kept moving. Nana’s fury about all that had transpired was obvious. I had no intention of being an easy target for her to unleash on. Not like I had any answers for her, anyway. I didn’t know how I’d done what I’d done. Didn’t know why or how Maala had flouted our laws and concealed her female child. Nor did I trust myself around other Thumbra that night. I felt ragged and combustible. Seeking comfort, I headed towards my home away from home, Manolo’s. I needed him to smooth out my rough edges.

  Now I wasn’t some weepy girlfriend who wanted to cry on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Not our bag, but he worked wonders as a mood stabilizer for me. Better than any smoke or Rx on the market (neither of which work on Thumbras). For whatever reason, Manolo’s emotions didn’t radiate with as much potency as most others did, and he had a dampening influence on third parties as well. I had dealt with enough feelings for the evening and a buffer sounded, restful.

  Under the cover of darkness and a petty rainstorm, I raced my tenuous hold on myself. While still in the deserted back country, I ran on all fours, leaping where I could. There was no name for the animal I was, I didn’t think about it, or have a clear picture in my mind–I focused only on getting to Manolo. Sooner than I thought possible, I reached the estates that abutted the wild canyons. My neighborhood was very, very comfortable; these homes were opulent. I slowed enough to shift into human form and a bipedal gait; I had to reorient myself. It was necessary to keep as close to the dark patches as possible. These people didn’t just dismiss darting human shapes; no, they had active security staff and overlapping surveillance systems. This was a gated community, they were serious about keeping their wealthy enclave safe from the riffraff and merely rich just a few blocks away.

  Somehow I avoided the late joggers and dog walkers and reached Manolo’s property without incident. His parents weren’t home, but then they never were. Manolo’s father often had business in their native Brazil (and elsewhere); his wife accompanied him like it was her job. When he was younger, Manolo had nannies 24/7; as a teen he had an army of servants. We supposed the servants were to report everything to the parental units, so I had snuck in on all my night time forays to the house.

  Anticipating relief, I relaxed as I approached. On the average Friday night, Manolo hung out in his rooms–some movie or music screaming in the background while he worked on his models. An aspiring architect, his life’s dream was to create beautiful and sustainable housing to replace the slums and shanty towns in depressed communities all over the world. He wasn’t like other boys, he’d always been my most treasured friend. Often, he’d looked past the awkward shell to provide the comfort and the acceptance I’d needed. I straightened myself as best I could, but I knew he wouldn’t question me. He’d just smile and tell me I knew where everything was before he kissed my forehead and went back to his work.

  Whether it was from inattention or belief in his armed bodyguards; there was a hole in their security system that Manolo’s father had never closed and I used to enter the house. I shimmied up a decorative column (Manolo hated the otherwise useless thing) and cat walked a narrow ledge to a guest bathroom window that no one locked or monitored. That put me one level below Manolo’s suite of rooms; his sound system thumped, per usual. I didn’t catch sight of the servants on duty that night; so I figured they were in their rooms or he’d given them the night off.

  Once outside his door, I paused; Manolo knew more about me than anyone besides family, still- I had secrets. I wanted him to comfort me, but I pushed down the desire to vent to him. Too much was at stake. I turned the handle and pushed.

  It was much too bright as I entered. Manolo’s suite was like a little apartment, French doors opened into a mini foyer that flowed into the living room. All the furniture faced the behemoth of a TV, which faced the door, so I saw the backs of their heads, but they didn’t see me. Yes, I said “their”.

  Ever walk in on a scene from your life, but it throws you b
ecause you aren’t in it? Instead, there is a stand-in, in your place, doing what you would do? That is what I found on what was (at least back then) the worst night of my life. I couldn’t catch a break.

  I advanced, confused. Manolo was a loner. Aside from his soccer teammates, he didn’t hang out with anyone, except me. And the tinkling laughter marked this companion as female. Now, I have never been the jealous type, but I am territorial as all hell. The doors closed of their own accord and I dropped my rucksack in the corner. Neither moved, except in reaction to the too loud movie.

  Yeah, I got a little angry. Someone had invaded a private space I shared with Manolo. That was my seat, my movie time and my damn pizza boxes this unknown chick was poaching on! As I moved towards them, a familiar click clack marked my progress across the marble entryway. My claws were out, and I did not care. There was a moment of silence from the movie and the lovely pair looked to check out the sound. Two heads, one raven and the other an auburn-chestnut, turned simultaneously to reveal similar sets of green eyes.

  Alyssa. My best friend Alyssa.

  I went from a wee bit confuzzled and angry to a seething fury. Just like that. When she turned her head, she wasn’t expecting to see a person, no her eyes were shining and happy. Then they saw me, really saw me, and shrank all “oh shit”. Her dainty little mouth dropped open and guilt poured out like vomit. I swear, she reeked like the shame was leeching out of her skin. The gulp of her throat, the lines on her forehead, the way her hand fluttered to her face, it all radiated embarrassment over being caught. It didn’t matter so much what they were doing–it only mattered what my friend evidently wanted.