Two Moons of Sera (5 page)

Tor wove his way through the dark forest with ease, waiting
only long enough for me to see where he was going before moving on. The bag on
my shoulder was stuffed with items I had haphazardly gathered while waiting for
Tor to reach the shore. I swam much faster than him, but I wasn’t thinking
straight enough to take advantage of the extra time. I didn’t even remember
what I had grabbed.

The terrain changed from sand to dirt. Sharp objects jutted
from the ground, slicing my bare feet. We ran toward the cliff, past the
forested perimeter I had explored. Trees blocked the starlight, and I could
barely see through the darkness.

“Come on,” Tor whispered from ahead.

Dim light from the ruby moon outlined his shape. He crouched
close to a tree. Beyond him the forest thinned before leading out to the cliff
ledge. How many weeks had passed since he’d stolen my paper and yelled at me
from this very ledge? How many lifetimes had I lived since then?

“Sera!” he hissed, bringing my attention back to him. “We
have to climb. Can you make it up?”

I nodded.

“All right. We have to hurry.”

In the distance, flares whistled into the sky, lighting up
the cove as the ships invaded the peaceful shore that had been my home.

“You first,” Tor said once he secured my bag.

Stretching above me, I grabbed hold of the hard cliff face.
With caution and care, I searched for footholds that could support my weight
and crevices I could grip. My Sualwet musculature extended with ease, giving me
a long reach, and I ascended the cliff.

Together we climbed—one hand over the other, each foot on a
deliberate path. The ground below me drifted away one step at a time, and
thoughts of reaching the top eluded me. I could only concentrate on the next
movement, the next stretch, the next tear.

Behind me came gruff shouts and the roar of motors. The
night lit up red and white. Fire brightened the sky. A flare whizzed past us
and burst high above, illuminating the rocky shoreline below.

Panic gripped me and tightened its noose around my neck. I
clung to the wall, anxiety and fatigue consuming my muscles. I was paralyzed in
place, unable to continue.

“Move!” Tor cried from below.

We were exposed—blots against the gray rocks. Our only hope
was that the Erdlanders were too busy exploring the beach to look above them.

My body resisted Tor’s instructions. I needed to get to the
top, to safety, but something told me I would never be safe again.

“Sera!” Tor had clambered around me, his body next to mine. “You’re
going to fall and I can’t carry you. You have to climb!”

He continued to scale the cliff, passing me and leaving me
to choose life above or death below. After turning skyward, I forced myself to
continue my ascent.

The light reflecting off the cliff dimmed as the flare fell
back to earth. The Erdlanders hadn’t seen us.

With calculated movements, I reached the top. My fingers
searched for a solid hold over the ledge. Instead, Tor’s hand grasped my
forearm and lent me his strength.

We stood at the top of the ledge, side by side. My lungs
filled with air as my heart clamored in my chest. Before us ships burned and
ignited the sea, Flares burst in the sky, leaving trails of red behind as they
fell. Somewhere out in that melee, the current swept my mother’s body out to
sea. Would she sink to the ocean floor? Would she drift on the surface among
the flames of a war she’d wanted nothing to do with?

Wherever she was, it didn’t really matter. Her body
remained—now food for the sharks that once feared her presence—but her essence
was gone, scattered throughout the sea. Each droplet of water, each grain of
sand she ever touched held a piece of her and took her with it as it continued
on. Now the only thing that mattered was how that piece of her survived within
me.

Tor led the way through the dense forest above the beach.
Another mountain loomed above us, but its foot hid a large clearing. No clear
path presented itself, but he seemed to know where he was going.

I followed without speaking. There was nothing worth saying.
My entire existence had just floated away. My home was probably on fire, my
belongings destroyed. Even if they weren’t, I could never go back to get them.

Everything was gone. I had nothing, no one. I had no people,
no family. The Sualwets would never accept me; having hair was enough to
guarantee that. The Erdlanders were monsters who destroyed my home. I may look
like them, but I never wanted to be one.

Low-lying bushes filled the clearing. A stream ran from the
mountain to a small pond, where it disappeared underground.

“Huh,” Tor called before stepping out of the tree line. He
held up his hand for me to wait.

“Thhhhhrup!” something cried from a cave farther ahead. The
sound vibrated through the night, ending with a sharp yip, almost like the bay
of a coyote.

I stepped back. If I ran, where would I go? Tor stood so
calmly, but as another cry ripped open, I began to shake.

A four-legged creature emerged from the darkness.

The creature was huge, much larger than any land animal I’d
ever seen. Its head came almost to my waist. Coarse, matted hair—thicker and
denser than mine or Tor’s—covered the creature’s body. Moonlight shone down and
I could see the animal’s coat was brown with strands of red and white mixed in,
making it blend in against the dusty earth.

“Thhhhhrup!” it howled again, bounding toward Tor.

“Huh,” he said, gesturing for the animal to stop, and it sat
before him in expectation. “Huh,” he said, his inflection sharper. “Sera, come
out.”

The animal cocked its head at the sound of Tor’s words.

“What is
that
?” I whispered, slinking along the tree
line. The animal loosely resembled dogs I’d read about and seen in pictures,
but it was too large, its body too angular. And its piercing, intelligent eyes
disturbed me. I was being appraised, my behavior and quality measured and
judged by this animal.

The dog-thing sprang to its feet, lowered its narrow head
into a menacing stance. A guttural growl vibrated from its chest. I was still
shrouded under the forest canopy, but it must have noticed me.

“Thhhhhhrrr,” it warned. Its hackles rose, making the animal
appear larger. Each strand of hair stood like a needle ready to piece anything
that approached.

“Huh!” Tor commanded. “Huh, huh.” With a gesture he called
the creature to his side.

It stared at me again, its green eyes flecked with gold.
Another warning growl reverberated in the air before it joined Tor.

“He needs to get used to you,” Tor said.

“What is it?”

I didn’t move, didn’t approach or look away. This was too
much. This was more than I could handle. On top of everything else that had
happened that night, I had a monster staring at me with eyes as sharp as a man’s.

“He’s... I don’t know word yet. He lives up here, in the mountains.
There are others, but he was alone. I was alone, so now we’re alone together.”

“He’s a pet?”

“No. He does what he wants.”

“Why isn’t he attacking me, then?”

“He trusts me. He won’t hurt you unless you give him a
reason to.”

“Does he have a name?” I glanced up at Tor, checking to make
sure he was telling me the truth.

He stood next to the beast, with no sign of fear. “Never
thought to give him one.”

“Well then.”
In hopes of calming this creature, I
cooed at him in Sualwet, using my softest, gentlest voice and the same lilt my
mother did when I was sick as a child. ~
Uh, hi, Monster
.
You
don’t want to eat me, do you, Monster?
~

The creature’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. I stood tall
but kept my head bowed as I approached. Its back legs were poised to spring.
The thing’s eyes tracked my movements, never straying from me as I drew closer.

“Huh,” Tor soothed, placing his hand on the animal’s head
and smoothing the spiked hair. It relaxed at the contact, and so did I.

Stepping closer, I continued to speak gently, until a low
rumble emanated from the animal.

“Huh. Huh.” Tor knelt down next to it, draping one arm over
its back. “Come closer. Put your hand out and let him smell it.”

“Is it—is it a dog?” I asked.

“Maybe. ‘Dog’ isn’t quite the right word, though.”

Hand extended, I approached, careful to keep my movement
slow. I was exhausted, and the last bit of adrenaline from seeing the animal
had worn off. At this point, I didn’t even really care if it ate me. I was too
tired to bother.

~
Hi, Monster
,~ I said, speaking Sualwet again. The
creature’s hair had flattened so that he no longer appeared as threatening. ~
You’re
an interesting looking thing, aren’t you? Well, I’m different, too. Nobody else
like me. Maybe the three of us belong together. Orphans alone in the world?
~

The animal sniffed my hand and looked at Tor.

“Huh,” he grunted, patting the animal’s side before standing
up.

The creature stood. Its head was at my waist, and if I
reached out, I could’ve laid my hand on its back without bending down. It approached
me with a snort. My hand still outstretched, I let the animal sniff my fingers.
When it was satisfied I wasn’t a threat, it pressed its forehead into my palm
and stepped away.

“Huh.” Tor pointed back to the cave, and the animal loped
toward the enclosure.

“What was that?”

“I told you I don’t know.”

“How do you talk to it? All you said was ‘huh.’”

He shrugged. “I just think what I mean and make a sound.”

The clearing was bright, even in the dark. We were so high
the moon felt as if it were just beyond my reach, and the stars danced like
fireflies above my head.

“Come.” He walked toward the cave.

I followed.

“Thhhhhrup!” the monster called from the distance.

“I think he wants to go back to sleep.” Tor grinned,
affection shining on his angular face.

I tried to smile, to engage in the new things he introduced
me to. A wild animal unlike anything I’d seen before, a beautiful clearing in
the mountain, far above my home in the cove. My grief weighed everything down
and drained the color from the world around me, leaving me in a flat gray world
with nothing. I’d been hollowed out and emptied.

The clearing was covered in soft grass, which felt cool
against my feet, and the automatic movement of walking brought me to the mouth
of the cave. Inside it was cold and damp. No fire lit the space, and in the
darkness I saw only some blankets with a large wild animal curled up on them.

“You can sleep there.” Tor gestured to where the monster was
resting.

“Can you start a fire?”

Tor nodded and disappeared into the cave.

My eyes and other senses were accustomed to being
underwater, where it was often pitch black. Here, the darkness was empty. No
sound bounced through the water to outline the shape of the space for me.
Instead, the cave was cold and black.

Tor returned with logs in his arms and set them within a
circle of rocks. He whistled and the animal stretched then trotted over to his
side.

“You can lie down now. I’ll keep him with me.”

“Thanks.” To the beast I said, ~
Goodnight, Monster
.~

“What do you keep saying to him?” Tor scratched the animal’s
head as we spoke.

“What?
Monster
?”

“Yes. I don’t know that word.”

“Oh, it’s Sualwet. It means ‘monster.’”

“Monster, huh?
El-ron
....”

“Almost.” I smiled despite my exhaustion. “It’s pronounced
ell-gahn
—Elgon.”

“Elgon.”

At the sound of the word, the animal looked up at Tor with a
questioning turn of the head.

“Maybe that’s his name.”

“Seems like he likes it.”

I set my bag on the ground next to the pile of blankets and
sat down to inspect the damage to my feet. The webbing between the third and
fourth toe on my left foot was torn, but it would grow back. The soles of my
feet were tender and a bit swollen, but none of the cuts looked deep enough to
cause an infection.

The soft blankets on the bed cushioned me when I sat down. I
felt bad taking Tor’s bed and couldn’t see why he wanted to sleep outside, but
the weight of the night bearing down on me stole my thoughts as I melted to the
cold ground. Exhaustion washed over me, and I fought to keep my eyes open.

Tor crouched before the fire, Elgon lying on the ground
between us. I watched him, took in the sharp contour of his face. He was
lovely—not the way the Erdlander men in pictures were, all dressed up with hair
trimmed short, or the way Sualwet men were, with their silent and reserved
ways. Tor was wild and impulsive, and for some reason he had come to see me
right when I needed him.

He remained still, hands folded over the other in front of
him, like he was concentrating or struggling with something I couldn’t see. All
he did was sit there.

“Tor?”

“Huh, shush,” he replied without looking at me.

As I watched, something glowed beneath the palms of his
hands. Light sparked and the glow increased until it formed a bright orb. It
turned and grew; red, orange, yellow and white sparks flew around Tor’s hands
until the thing was as large as my fist. Tor opened his hands and blew on it,
sending it whipping down to the logs stacked in the hearth. When the orb struck
the logs, they burst into crackling flames.

“Tor?” I asked again, my heart beating faster and my mind
spinning from what I’d just seen. Was it a trick? Some kind of technology I
didn’t know about?

He stood without looking at me and gestured for the animal
to follow him.

“Tor, what did you do?”

“I... I’m going to sleep outside.”