Two Moons of Sera (6 page)

“You don’t have to. Really, I don’t want you to be cold.”

“I won’t be.”

“How did you start the fire?”

He turned then, the firelight illuminating his sharp
features. His expression softened, and for a moment I glimpsed the man under
all the scars and grime. The man who’d been living alone in a cold cave, with
nothing but a few blankets and a wild animal for company.

“You weren’t the only mistake, Sera. It’s better I sleep
outside.”

He left. Elgon, the monster, trailed behind. The animal’s
nose kept butting against Tor’s hand, but he did not acknowledge its attention.

I was alone.

Morning came too soon. My exhaustion, grief, and confusion
had joined forces to overwhelm me and shove me into oblivion. I didn’t remember
covering myself with one of the blankets or balling another into a pillow. All
I remembered was the look in Tor’s eyes when he’d walked away.

What had he done to start the fire? What kind of magic would
create that kind of energy?

I stretched, letting the blanket fall off me, and raised my
arms over my head. What I really wanted was to walk outside, take off all my
clothes, and swim in the ocean. I wanted to dive beneath the surface and let
the cool water envelop me. But I wasn’t waking up in my hammock to the sun over
my head; I was lying on a cold floor, next to the dying embers of an impossible
fire.

Alone in the dim light of the cave, the memory of my mother’s
last words rang in my ears:
Go!
Tears finally fell. I hadn’t cried last
night. The world was too confusing, too chaotic for me to indulge in grief. All
I could do was keep moving forward. That morning, though, silence rang out
around me, and for the first time in my life, the sound of the surf greeting
the sand was absent.

Wrenching loneliness filled me, and I drew my legs to my
chest. I fought the sobs that clawed their way to the surface, but their power
was too much and I couldn’t resist. I submitted to the agony of admitting my
mother was gone.

She had given up everything for me to exist. Her entire life
had been stolen by the Erdlanders who abducted her, experimented on her, and
tried to kill her. Somehow, she’d escaped and lived. How afraid she must have
been when her abdomen began to grow. How horrible it must have been to be the
first Sualwet woman to have a live birth in over three hundred years.

Despite her confusion and pain, she loved me. She never gave
up on me. She fought the Sualwets who wanted her to abort. She ran after
realizing they intended to kill me when I was born. My mother lived away from
the water for years because of me. She had given me everything, and even in
death, she worried more about me than herself.

Go!

Once my tears ran out, I fell back asleep. Fitful dreams of
fire and a sea of pain plagued me.

My body felt stiff when I woke. I had no idea how late in
the day it was or how long I’d slept, but my stomach growled and that was
motivation enough to rise. I had no more tears, but the stain of my grief left
me blackened and hollow.

The light funneling in through the cave opening didn’t offer
much more illumination than the stars had. The space was cool and damp. Near an
opening into another space beyond the light’s perimeter, clothes and tools
piled around the edge of the cave.

I stepped outside into the morning air and missed the taste
of salt. We were too high up for the ocean breeze to find me. Mixed grass and
some colorful flowers sprouted around the clearing. Tor was wading up to his
waist in the small pond. His thick hair hung loose over his shoulders and
covered his back. Facing away from me, he submerged his head in the water,.

When he reappeared, I watched the water roll off his broad
shoulders and trail down to his narrow waist. His back bore as many marks as
his arms. Scars ran at odd angles along his skin. His clothes lay in the grass
next to the monster-dog that protected them.

“Thhhhhrup!” Elgon called, hopping up to his feet when he
saw me.

I blushed, having been caught staring without saying
anything. I watched Elgon instead of acknowledging Tor. The animal’s stance was
relaxed, not the threatening posture from the previous night.

“He likes you,” Tor said, forcing my attention back in his
direction.

“Do you think he’d mind if I came over there?”

“No, it’s okay.” He turned to Elgon and made a gesture
through the air. “Huh.”

The animal sat and cast me an expectant look. I held out one
hand and crept forward.

~
Hi, Elgon
.~

“It’s okay, really,” Tor said. “Once you get to know him,
you’ll see how funny your reaction was. He’s gentle, I promise.” He drank a
handful of water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it out.

“Well, last night he tried to eat me, so I’ll take it slow
this time, if you don’t mind.”

I heard splashing as Tor waded out of the pond, toward his
clothes.

“Tor!” I squealed, turning away when he entered the corner
of my vision, completely nude.

“What?”

“You’re naked!”

“I’m putting pants on.”

“But—!” My cheeks burned and my heart pounded in my chest. I’d
seen my mother naked a thousand times. Why did the sight of Tor’s bare legs as
he walked past me in the morning light make me feel so... awake?

Elgon scooted in front of me. I turned to the side, enough
so I wasn’t looking at him but not so far that I could see Tor.

With a “Thhhhhrup!” he leaped forward and crouched in front
of me.

“See, he’s fun,” Tor said, dressing in his dark pants and
ill-fitting shirt.

Elgon looked up at me and then to Tor. He cocked his head to
the side and snorted before shooting out into the forest.

“Where’s he going?” I wondered.

“To hunt, probably. He’ll be back later. He usually sleeps here.”
Tor walked back to the pond and picked up his bag.

“Don’t you worry about him?”

“Like I said, he’s not my pet. He can take care of himself,
probably better than I can. So, are you hungry?”

“Yes. What time is it?”

“Late, but you needed the sleep.” He pulled his bag higher
on his shoulder. “Let’s find something to eat.”

Tor entered the cave. I wasn’t sure what he intended, but I
followed him instead of staying alone. Nothing I knew applied anymore. There
was no ocean to fish, no garden to harvest, no chickens to feed. I had to start
over from nothing. The enormity of that was too much to face. Instead, I
followed Tor into the cave, content to let him lead.

Inside he dug through a pile of clothes and tossed things
aside before returning with something in his hands.

“For your feet. They aren’t perfect, but they tie on.”

“Thanks.” I sat down against the cave wall and slipped the
leather over my foot. It was loose, but the ties cinched around my ankle and
calf. With both shoes tied in place, I stood up and threw my bag over my
shoulder.

“Leave it,” Tor said. “No one knows where we are. Your bag
is safe.”

“It’s all I have.”

“Huh,” he replied with a nod before walking deeper into the
cave.

I peered after him. Where had he had gone?

“Tor?”

No response.

“Tor?” In the darkness, I tried to force my eyes to adjust,
but the blackness past the opening was complete. Nothing penetrated it.

“You can’t see?” Tor’s voice came from far away, like an
echo inside a jar.

“No. Where are you? Why are you back here?”

The ethereal glow from the previous night cut through the
darkness. It was dim and farther away than I expected, but its radiant light
shone with clarity. Small and impossible, it grew larger as Tor approached me.
His face glowed, bathed in the light that flickered in the hand he held before
him. The air warmed as he neared and brought his magic with him.

“How do you do that?”

“How do you breathe underwater?”

I shrugged. “Because my mother could.”

“I don’t know who my mother is. Maybe that’s why I can do
this.”

I reached out to touch the orb. It was beautiful and shone
with the brilliance of a small sun. The closer I came, the hotter the air grew
until it was too much and I pulled away.

My voice cracked a little when I spoke. “It doesn’t burn
you.”

“No. But it burns everything else.”

I looked up to catch a wave of something dark flash across
his face. It vanished again just as quickly, and he returned to his normal,
stoic self.

“Where are we going?” I asked when he walked farther down
the tunnel. The fire he carried gave off enough light for me to see where I was
stepping. I avoided walking into the emptiness, but the interior space was vast
and I couldn’t see the ceiling or the cave walls.

“This part of the mountain is full of caverns. I’ve been
exploring them for years since I can see fine in the dark.”

“Mother once told me Sualwets could see better than
Erdlanders, but I guess not.”

“No. I’ve escaped from Erdlanders in the dark before.”

“I thought you were an Erdlander.”

“Huh.”

We walked in silence. Tor’s fire revealed the cavern
splitting into more tunnels and passageways. I tried to remember which way we
went, but without Tor’s light I would never find my way back. The farther we
walked, the colder it became.

At the sound of water dripping in the distance, I asked, “Are
we under the mountain?”

“A little farther and we’ll be on the far side. The hunting
is better, and there’s a large lake we can fish.”

“Is it safe?”

“No one visits this forest. I’ve been going this way a long
time. We’re far from the city, and none of the villagers use this area to hunt.
I guess they’re afraid of what animals might live up here.”

“You’ve met them?” The words tumbled from my mouth as
curiosity got the best of me.

“I lived with them. For a while.”

The darkness around us swelled, and my breath caught. “You
lived with Erdlanders? When? Why are you out here?” I stopped walking, shocked
by his revelation. “What are you? What happened?”

Blackness crept closer as Tor stood with his back to me,
blocking the warm fire he held so casually in his hands.

His voice was low when he spoke. “They said I was little
when they found me. Barely walking. They lived out in a village past the city,
farther north. They already had two children, so taking in another was easy. I
don’t remember anything before them.” He paused. The light in his hand had
dimmed, his attention focused on thoughts of the past. “I called them Mother
and Father, and when the census came, they claimed me as their own. I lived
with them until—I’d always been different. I was taller than my brother by the
time I was four, even though he was three years older than me. I learned
Erdlander when I was little, but I knew other words, too—words I don’t remember
anymore.”

“Sualwet?”

“No. Your words make no sense to me. It was something else.
But they didn’t like it, so I stopped, and now I’ve forgotten.”

His shoulders slumped and he gazed down into the fire in his
hands.

“Why don’t you live with them now?” I urged.

“I couldn’t always control it.”

He didn’t need to say what
it
was. The glow in his
hands surged, and I jumped back, startled by the flare. “Tor.”

“It’s all right. I can control it now.”

“What happened?” I implored, frightened.

“They all died, Sera. They died and I ran.”

We walked in silence through the darkness until the air
dried out and a dim light infiltrated the distance. Scabs covered my feet from
where the thongs rubbed against them. They were still bruised and blistered
from the night before, but the sandals Tor gave me made it bearable. Tired,
confused, and emotionally drained, I only wanted to stop walking. I would have
been happy with whatever food he had at the cave. Going back now would take
more time than continuing on, so I kept my mouth shut and followed.

Tor remained quiet since our conversation, and he refused to
answer my questions. His family was dead because of the same fire that lit our
path. I should have been afraid—maybe I would have, had I been born an
Erdlander. Maybe he would’ve terrified me if I didn’t have webbed feet or
silver eyes or skin that could absorb oxygen through osmosis. Maybe if anything
about me made sense, I’d be afraid of the impossible. As it was, I was just
glad for the company.

So he was an orphan. No family, no history, no people. Where
could he have come from? His origin confused and mystified me more than mine. I
didn’t belong anywhere, but at least I knew what I was.

Tor snuffed out the fire in his hand when the opening of the
cave came into view. “Let me look outside.”

I pulled back against the cave wall and watched him creep
outside. Leaning forward, I saw him scan the trees and listen to the wind.
Silence radiated from within the cave, blocking out any sound of birds or
animals.

Tor nodded and motioned me forward.

The sun blinded me, scattering spots across my vision as I
adjusted to the light. Rainbows distorted my sight, blending trees and sky
together. Once I could focus again, I found tall trees reaching to the heavens.
They were stark and bare near the earth, but far above, their branches burst
with green and tan leaves.

“This way.” Tor strode ahead, setting a difficult pace. That
was probably his intention, because this way I couldn’t ask more questions. He
didn’t need to worry, though. I trusted him. His gruff manner sometimes
overshadowed the amusing and kind person beneath, but I was used to looking
under layers for the truth. My mother had buried herself beneath so many layers
that it was easy to get lost, but I never doubted she loved me.

The edge of an open field offered a nice place to rest. Tor
dropped his bag and pulled out a net. He threw a rope over a low branch, tied
it to the net, and spread it out in the shaded grass. Inside the net, he placed
a round metal object with teeth and a piece of dried seaweed.

“What is it?”

“A trap. I can usually get a rabbit or sometimes a fox.”

“I can tell that. I
do
know how to hunt. No, I meant,
what’s the round thing?”

I stepped toward the trap, and Tor’s arm shot out across my
path. His hand caught me by the shoulder and pulled me toward him. I stumbled
but caught myself before falling.

We stood inches apart. Two full heads above me, he looked
down, his wide blue eyes and angular face only a breath away.

“Why’d you grab me?” I demanded, pushing against his chest.

Tor stepped back, one side of his mouth quirked upward in amusement.
“If you touch it, it will break your hand—or foot. I didn’t think you’d like
that.”

“Oh.”

“And I didn’t grab you.”

“Sorry, I just... I don’t like to be touched.”

“Even when your foot is about to be broken?”

“Extreme situations aside.” I turned back to the trap,
studying it from a distance. “So what is it?”

“Don’t know. I stole it from some Erdlander hunters after I
watched them use it a few times. The animal comes close to get the seaweed, and
then the trap activates. This part wraps around the animal’s neck like a
collar, pins it in place. Then the trap’s teeth keep tightening until the
animal dies.”

“That’s awful.”

“But effective.”

Across the field, something moved and emitted a sound just
on the edge of my hearing.

I held up a finger to Tor before stepping over to another
tree. Still hidden by the shade, I closed my eyes and listened. The air wasn’t
that much different from the water. Particles filled every space; they were
just lighter and disconnected. If I focused...

“
Jau
...
meh
...
a nou
....”

Opening my eyes, I nodded toward the direction of the sound.
“There’s someone else here,” I whispered when Tor joined me.

“I don’t hear anything.” He squinted into the far trees.

“Maybe I can hear better than you, like you can see better
than me. Trust me. There’s someone there.”

“Okay.” Tor went to the trap, disabled the metal mechanism,
and gathered everything up.

My eyes shut again, and I reached out, trying to sense
whoever hid in the forest. Filtering through the sounds of birds and rustling
leaves, I explored other, fainter noises: grass blades rubbing together as the
wind passed through the field, the claws of a small animal scraping against
bark as it climbed a tree. The distant voice trembled. It was low and raspy,
like someone perpetually out of breath. The breathing caught my attention
first—the deep exhale followed by a shallow inhale.

“I hear someone. He’s—I
think
it’s a he—he’s telling
whoever he’s with to slow down.”

My thoughts traveled across the field, lost in the
vibrations of sound. I saw where the person stood—not his features, but the
space where the sound originated and the forms around it. I then pulled away
and returned my attention to my immediate surroundings.

Tor’s bright eyes followed my every movement, and standing
so close, I spied strands of green running through his blue irises, which made
them shimmer in the sun.

“What did you hear?” he whispered when my gaze refocused on
him.

“He’s out of breath, but I can’t hear whoever he’s with.”

He nodded and shrugged the bag over his shoulder, and we
hurried back to the cave mouth. Tor was stealthy. He moved through the forest
like an animal—easy and confident. I, however, was used to running on the open
shore, sand beneath my feet, not the hard landscape of the mountains, so I had
to took care not to step on anything that would snap or crack

Tor stopped and held his hand out, blocking the way. “What
do you hear now?” he asked, gesturing toward the cave.

I reached out again, the process coming easier this time. I
was beginning to notice the similarities between the molecules of the air and
the denser water of the sea.

“Lock... Lock, where are you?” a woman called, but she wasn’t
yelling. Her voice was strained, like she was trying to both be heard and not.

My ears explored the area, spreading my senses, circling in
slow, lazy motions, and found the familiar thrum of Elgon’s growl.

“It’s Elgon,” I said. “He’s trapped someone by the cave.”

I ran toward the voice, ignoring Tor’s warning.