Arkwright (35 page)

Like all Providence inhabitants, Aara was an expert sailor. Once she'd stowed the packs, she didn't immediately raise the sail but instead used the oars to push herself away from the beach and out into the Childstown bay. As a small measure of respect for her, none of the fishing boats set out when they were supposed to. On the nearby docks, their crews silently waited as Aara paddled away, allowing her a chance to begin the long, sixty-kilm journey from the island to the mainland.

Aara was a small figure sitting in the catamaran's stern when she finally lowered the outrigger and raised the mainsail. As it unfurled to catch the morning wind, there was a single, long gong from the watchtower's bell, the ritual signal that an islander was being sent into exile. As it resounded across the waters, Aara raised a fore in a final wave.

Sanjay and his father waved back, and then they stood together on the shore and quietly waited until her boat couldn't be seen anymore.

 

2

In the days that followed, Sanjay did his best to put his mother's banishment behind him. With only two weeks left in summer, there was much that needed to be done before the season changed: fish to be caught, dried, and preserved, seeds planted and spring crops tended, houses and boats repaired. He and his father put away Aara's belongings—they couldn't bring themselves to burn her clothes, a customary practice for the families of those sent to Purgatory—and accepted the sympathy of those kind enough to offer it, but it took time for them to get used to a house that now seemed empty; the absence of laughter and the vacant seat at the dinner table haunted them whenever they came home.

Sanjay didn't feel very much like attending the Juli service at the Shrine, but Dayall insisted. If he didn't make an appearance, the more inquisitive Disciples might wonder whether Aara's son shared her blasphemous beliefs. Dayall was an observant Galian if not a particularly devout one, and the last thing they wanted to do was draw the attention of the Guardians. So Frione morning, they joined the Disciples in the dome-roofed temple in the middle of town. Once they'd bowed in homage to the sacred genesis plant that grew beside the Shrine, they went in to sit together on floor mats in the back of the room, doing their best to ignore the curious glances of those around them. Yet as R'beca stood before the altar, where the boxlike frame of the Transformer stood with its inert block of Galmatter in the center, and droned on about how the souls of the Chosen Children were gathered by Gal from the vile netherworld of Erf and carried “twenty-two lights and a half through the darkness” to Eos, Sanjay found himself studying the Teacher resting within his crèche behind the altar.

Even as a child, Sanjay had often wondered why the Teacher didn't resemble the Children or their descendents. Taller than an adult islander, his legs had knees that were curiously forward-jointed and hinds lacking the thin membranes that ran between the toes. His arms, folded across his chest, were shorter, while the fingers of his fores were long and didn't have webbing. His neck was short, as well, supporting a hairless head whose face was curiously featureless: eyes perpetually open and staring, a lipless mouth, a straight nose that lacked nostrils. And although the Teacher wore an ornate, brocaded robe dyed purple with roseberry, every youngster who'd ever sneaked up to the crèche after services to peek beneath the hem knew that the Teacher lacked genitalia; there was only a smooth place between his legs.

These discrepancies were explained by the Word: the Teacher had been fashioned by Gal to resemble the demons who ruled Erf, and the Creator had made him this way to remind the Children of the place from which they'd come. This was why the Teacher was made of Galmatter instead of flesh and blood. According to the history everyone diligently learned and recited in school, the Teacher and the Disciples had fled the mainland for Providence just before the Great Storm, leaving behind the unfaithful, who'd ignored Gal's warning that their land would soon be consumed by wind and water.

The Teacher no longer moved or spoke, and he had not done so in recent memory. Yet his body didn't decay, so he was preserved in the Shrine. Along with the Transformer and the Galmatter block, they were regarded as holy relics, reminders of the Stormyarn. In her sermons, R'beca often prophesized the coming of the day when the Teacher would awaken and bring forth new revelations of the Word of Gal, but Sanjay secretly doubted this would ever occur. If it did, he hoped to be there when it happened; he'd like to see how someone could walk on all fours with limbs and extremities as misshapen as these.

Kaile kept a discreet distance from Sanjay after Aara left. He missed her but understood why; her parents, Aiko and Jak, were strict Disciples who'd become reluctant to have their daughter associating with a heretic's son. And while she wasn't as rigid in her beliefs as her parents, nonetheless, Kaile was a Galian who did her best to adhere to the Word. So he saw her only on occasion, sometimes in town but more often in the morning on the waterfront. While Sanjay was a boatbuilder—indeed, his family name, which his father had taken after he bonded with his mother, was an old Inglis word for those who built watercraft—Kaile was a diver, trained from childhood to descend deep beneath the channel to harvest scavengers from the seafloor. When they spotted each other during those days, they'd exchange a brief smile and a wave, a sign that she still cared for him and would return once her parents let her.

Dayall, on the other hand, retreated into himself. As Juli lapsed into Aug and then Sept, Sanjay watched as his father became increasingly morose. He seldom spoke to anyone, let alone his son, instead adopting a dull daily pattern of getting up, having breakfast, opening his woodworking shop, and puttering around in it all day until it was time to close up and go home, where he'd eat and then go to bed. Although he was still bonded to Aara, it was understood that this no longer mattered; other women could come to him as prospective suitors, and he could bond with them and take their name if he so desired. But Dayall was approaching middle age, and it was unlikely any woman in Childstown would want to take as her mate someone who'd once had a heretic as a wife. So Sanjay could only watch as his father came to terms with his loss; he was helpless to do anything about it.

More than once, Sanjay found himself cursing his mother for not having the foresight to keep what she'd seen during night watch to herself. He began to suspect that her eyes may have been playing tricks on her. It wasn't uncommon to see streaks of light in the night. Old Inglis teachings, passed down through generations, called them meteorites, small rocks that occasionally fell from the sky. Perhaps Aara had seen something like that and had mistaken it for a moving star. She'd sworn otherwise when she'd been called before the Council of Deacons, though, and Aara was an intelligent woman who wasn't likely to mistake a meteorite for anything else. Nonetheless, Sanjay wondered whether, just this once, his mother may have been a fool … or even the heretic the deacons had proclaimed her to be.

When Monthree came around in Sept, the last week of summer, it was his turn again to take the night watch. Garth Coyne, Sanjay's uncle and the mayor of Childstown, dropped by the boat shop that afternoon to let him know that he could skip his turn if he wished. Garth would assign someone else instead, and Sanjay could wait three weeks to take the Monthree watch in Dec.

Garth meant well, of course. Part of the purpose of the night watch was to look out for anyone who might try to cross the channel from Cape Exile, whether it be a sinner attempting to abduct an islander for their own vile purposes—which was the Disciples' explanation for the occasional disappearance of someone from a village—or an exile attempting to return. Garth was the mayor, but he was also Dayall's brother, so he was more sympathetic than most and also aware of the bitter irony of having Sanjay stand watch to prevent his own mother from coming home. Yet Sanjay turned him down. He didn't want anyone to think that he was reluctant to assume the task that had led to Aara's downfall.

That night, he stood in the wooden watchtower, anxiously watching the sky in hopes that he'd spot the same mysterious star Aara had seen. Yet thick clouds had moved in shortly after Calliope went down, so all he could see was the diffuse glow that its distant companions, Aether and Bacchae, made through the overcast. Even Gal was nowhere to be seen. The only light he saw was the luminescent glow of nightjewels floating on the bay. Sanjay ended his turn in the tower with nothing more interesting to report than an ocean monarch breaching the surface a short distance out beyond the reefs; with summer coming to a close and the waters becoming colder, the predators were more often to be seen off the Providence shores.

He'd become accustomed to the fact that he'd never see his mother again when Kaile came to him on Thursthree morning. He was sitting beside a fishing canoe, patching a tear in its mainsail, when she walked across the beach on all fours and stopped beside him.

“'Lo, Sanjay,” she said. “How are you?”

Sanjay looked up at her, surprised by the casualness of her greeting. She hadn't spoken to him all season. Many of his friends had distanced themselves from him, but he'd missed her more than anyone else. Summer was a time for lying down with one's lover, and his bed had been cold and lonely without her. Sanjay had lately begun to wonder if he'd lost her for good, so her abrupt return caught him unprepared.

“Good, thanks. Just working on this boat.” He tried to pretend that her appearance meant little to him, but his fores slipped as he attempted to slide a threaded fish-bone needle through the sail patch. He nicked his right forefinger instead.

“Oh … watch yourself!” Kaile exclaimed as he hissed in pain. “Here. Let me.”

Before Sanjay could object, she bent closer, took his fore in her own, and gently slipped his finger into her mouth. Her lips formed a sly smile around his finger, and her eyes gleamed mischievously as her tongue, warm and moist, played with his fingertip. Sanjay felt himself becoming aroused. He shifted his hinds nervously, hoping she wouldn't notice, but if she did, she gave no sign.

“There,” she said, withdrawing his finger from her mouth. “All better?” He nodded, and she smiled. “So … I was just wondering if you'd like to go diving with me today.”

“Diving?” He'd done it before, but he wasn't trained the way she was. “Why?”

“Just because.” A shrug. “We haven't seen much of each other lately, and I thought … well, it might be a way of getting back together again.” Another smile. “Besides, my crew is running a little behind, and we could use some extra help.”

Sanjay looked across the keel of the upended canoe. Codi was squatting nearby, working with Johan to finish a new boat. He didn't have to ask whether they'd overheard the conversation; Codi and Johan traded an amused look, and then his mentor nodded.

“Sure, go ahead. We can take care of things today.”

Sanjay hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course. I'd love to.” Leaving the patch unfinished, he removed his tool kit from his vest and gave it to Johan for safekeeping. “After you,” he said, and she smiled again and turned away, leading him on all fours down the beach toward the nearby docks.

He was just beginning to admire the way Kaile's body moved beneath the diaphanous shawl she wore over her halter and thong when she paused to let him catch up. At first, he thought she was merely expressing fondness when she raised herself erect on her hinds and slid her fore through the crook of his elbow, but when he stood up so she could pull him closer as if to give him a kiss, she murmured something only he could hear.

“There's something I need to tell you,” she whispered.

“What about?” Sanjay glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby.

They weren't alone; others were walking past. The waterfront was as busy as it always was this hour of the morning.

“Not here,” she said softly. “Wait until we're out on the water, where no one can hear us.” She paused and then added even more quietly, “It's about what Aara saw … I've seen it too.”

 

3

The fishing fleet bobbed on the warm blue waters of the bay, six canoes with sails furled and anchors lowered. This late in the season, it was necessary for them to venture farther away from shore in order for the divers to catch anything of significance; it would take the nine weeks of autumn, winter, and spring for the breadfish and scavengers born the previous yar to grow large enough to be caught. So the boats had to spread out in order for their crews to bring home a decent catch; this made for conditions suitable for a conversation that wouldn't be easily overheard.

Nevertheless, Sanjay had a hard time containing himself from asking Kaile what she had meant. Two others were on her boat: Sayra Bailee, a young girl who'd become a diver only three yarn earlier, and Ramos Circe, the boat captain. Neither Sanjay nor Kaile were very much concerned about Sayra—she wasn't terribly bright and tended to keep to herself, anyway—but Ramos was another matter entirely. He was the Guardian appointed to the fleet to observe the fishermen and help them maintain spiritual purity while they worked, and the fact that he was also Deacon R'beca's son only made him more dangerous. They would have to be careful of him.

So he and Kaile had made small talk with Sayra as they paddled out into the bay, saying nothing that really mattered while ignoring Ramos. They were about a half kilm from the reefs that separated the outer reaches of the bay from the Western Channel when Ramos called for them to take down the sails and drop anchor. By then, their craft was a hundred rods from the next nearest boat, all the better for the privacy they sought.

Sanjay watched as Kaile stood erect, dropped her shawl, and, as an afterthought, discarded her halter, as well. She wore nothing now except her thong, which covered very little of herself. He'd never forgotten how beautiful she was; with the orange sun on her light-brown skin, she was as radiant as Gal herself. Taking off his vest and kilt, he was glad that he'd decided to wear a thong himself that day; otherwise, his reaction would have been obvious to all. Sayra also chose to dive almost entirely nude, but at sixteen sixyarn, she hadn't yet blossomed into the full-breasted womanhood Kaile had achieved at twenty-two.