Calypso, S. G. Ricketts [books for 7th graders .TXT] 📗

and rolled her eyes. “All this for a question?”

His face hardened. “I was wondering the same thing.” He leaned forward and ran a finger down the length of his bowstring. It sent chills down her spine. “You will answer my question. What did you build?” Kira glanced at him then looked away. She didn’t have much longer. The bands on her chest were growing steadily tighter. Her head throbbed. Kira blinked, trying to keep the black waves at bay. She briefly closed her eyes, steadying herself. If she stalled enough, she’d be dead before he could get anything from her. For the first time, she resented her immunity to the poison. If she hadn’t been so clumsy back then, she’d already be out of her misery. He hissed in annoyance, bringing her attention back to him. “Answer me.”

Kira refused to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him. He sat against the far wall, legs crossed before him and hands braced on his knees. His marks swirled an angry blue, the light blending with the glowing fungi. He scowled across at her. She looked away quickly. The man carried himself like someone used to giving orders. Kira took a shallow breath, trying to organize her thoughts. Clearly he was someone of importance. Her eyes slid back to him, narrowed in suspicion. “Why should I tell you? If I tell you, then you’ll kill me.”

He grinned ferally again, eye teeth glinting in the eerie glow. “It’s sounding more and more attractive.” He stood, muscles rippling with the movement, and his marks faded altogether. The light from the fungus gave him an eerie glow, an eclipse before an emerald sun.

His shadow blurred, the edges bleeding into green, and Kira blinked. “Shit.”

His grin deepened. “You have about ten minutes left. Are you feeling it now?”
She glared at him, trying to see him through her failing eyesight. “I’m not a fool,” she snapped, voice cracking. She took a wheezing breath and leaned her head back against the tree. “If I tell you, I die. If I don’t tell you, I still die.”

“I already told you that I wouldn’t kill you, however I could always put you out of your misery. You seem convinced I’ll do it either way.” She flinched at the twang of his bow string as he pulled it over his shoulders. His voice dripped with sudden derision. “After all, I’m an alien. What virtue would I have?”

She closed her eyes. Her ten minutes was quickly slipping away. The liquid fire had burned away to a steadily-growing agony. Every nerve felt like it had exploded. She chuckled weakly. “I’m the only alien here. And I’ll take my chances with the poison.” Her breaths came in short gasps and she bit back a cry. “I have a better idea. I tell you, and you help me. Deal?” She tilted her head, listening.

“Help you?” His fingers ran across the bow strings again, the sound giving her chills. The seconds stretched. Finally he grunted, his bow tapping against the floor. “It is a deal. Now-” His voice was suddenly closer and Kira recoiled, inhaling at the pain of movement. He sighed, sitting heavily. Kira pulled herself tighter into a ball; his blatant noise-making was a relief, but entirely confusing. He sighed and Kira slowly turned to face him. “Now, tell me.”

Each breath ripped through her body. Kira gritted her teeth. “I was...building a...fish trap.” The effort of speaking left her dizzy.

The man grunted. “Why would you build a trap?”

Kira tried to swallow. Her mouth felt full of cotton. “I had to...to survive.” Another grunt met her words and she frowned. “Someone...kept messing - ah!” She cringed forward as her her muscles spasmed. Gasping for air, she stared blindly at the floor. He waited patiently for the spell to pass. After a few moments, she relaxed against the wall again. “Someone kept messing...with my land traps. Even us humans...have to eat.” She tried to swallow again, her throat sticking. “Fish were...a more dependable...source.”

“Yes, but-” The man shifted, something scraping across the floor. She heard a light tapping and realized he was tapping his knee. “Why would you want to catch the children of Vitastami?”

She frowned, her head rolling to the side. “Who?”

He pushed himself to his feet. “Vitastami: the sky mother. She rules over the sky and the waters and the earth.” He paced back and forth, footsteps rhythmic against the fading storm. “Why would you want to catch them?”

She gave a ghost of a smile. “I didn’t...know that they were-” She lurched forward again, breathing ragged. She bit down on her lip, trying to keep the screams at bay. If she could hold out just a little bit longer, he would help her. She dug her nails into her forearms and forced herself to continue talking. “I didn’t know...that they were...the children of your goddess. I’m...sorry.” She shuddered slightly, picturing the bulging eyes and gaping jaws. “They were...the only way I would survive.”

He said nothing. Kira lifted her head, desperate to hear where he was. Her hearing faded for a moment with the movement and panic rose. Then she heard the tapping again. “You wonder why we kill you,” he muttered, standing. “Still...”

Her senses were rapidly failing now. The pain had hit the point of unbearable and was quickly being replaced by numbness. Any moment now, she would be unconscious. She didn’t need a native to tell her that she wouldn’t wake up from it this time. “I told you,” she ground out. “Now it’s...your turn. Help me.”

His arms slid behind and under her, the warmth penetrating the foggy haze of the poison. She jerked in surprise as he picked her up. Her head flopped against his chest. The sound of his heart beat against her ear, a strangely soothing sound. “I promised I wouldn’t kill you. I never promised I could save you.” Her eyes flew open, unable to see but shocked all the same. He sighed and set her gently down. “At this point, Baleeina, nothing could save you. Even if I could, I’m not sure I would.”


* * * * *


Kira groaned. Faint light filtered down over her in little patches of gold. She blinked crusty eyes but didn’t move to get up. The air smelled differently than it usually did. It smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg and earth instead of sulfur and stone. Her arms and shoulders and hips ached in places she’d forgotten existed. Above her, dust motes float lazily in the sun beams. The room was quiet, devoid of any sound save the faintest rustling of leaves. She frowned, closing her eyes again. The surf was missing and the rocks were gone. Where was she?

“You’re awake. Good.” The voice was gruff but musical.

She tensed and held her breath. The events of the past night came back. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. Had he changed his mind then? She had survived somehow. Kira took a steadying breath and sat up. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the waves of pain or the throbbing headache. Neither came. Surprised, she reached up to touch the back of her head. There was a little bump but nothing more. She stuck her arms out, inspecting both sides. All the bumps from the needle thorns had faded to little red pin pricks, and her left shoulder moved easily again. Goosebumps ran up her arms. She sat up a little straighter and slowly turned her right hand over. “What the hell?” The gash from the thorn had stitched itself together, the pink of healing showing along the edges. Something moved and she jerked her head up to meet those unnerving eyes. “How long was I out?” she demanded.

He stepped into the light and squatted down across from her, long hands resting on his knees. The sunlight played across the flat planes of his face. “Five days and five nights.” He watched her carefully, waiting for something.

“Why didn’t I die? Did you change your mind?” She kept her voice distant, remembering his final words.

His eyes narrowed and the markings began to glow faintly. They had been almost as black as his skin, she realized, a perfect camouflage. “Vitastami decided that you should live.”
Her eyebrows rose incredulously. He paused again and she realized he was testing her. She stayed quiet, deciding to wait him out. Her mind raced as their look lingered. There had to be a scientific explanation. Finally, she groaned and crossed her legs in front of her.

“Try that on me again, please. How exactly am I alive right now?”

His mouth twitched down and he frowned slightly. “You drank of her and you didn’t die,” he said, voice clipped.

“Ok, so I drank your...?” He looked away in irritation and pointed next to her. Her eyes shifted to a depression in the wood. The water reflected her face serenely and she sat back. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

His lips twitched. “I wish I was. You drank the water and you’ll live.” He looked just as shaken as she did. An ebony hand twisted uncomfortably around the grip on his bow. “Now you have to go back to the mountain and stay there.” He pushed himself to his feet and stared down at her. She squinted against the sunlight and shaded her eyes with her hand. He frowned. “Or maybe not even there.”

She laughed. “I didn’t die cleanly like you’d hoped,” she guessed.
His frown deepened but he didn’t turn away. “I should have known that you would be difficult.”

Kira snorted. “I make a habit of it. Now that I’ve survived and you’re done with me, though, why shouldn’t I go back to the mountain?” She leaned back carefully, waiting for the usual pain after the poison. It didn’t come. There were the aches and bruises from sleeping on the floor, but that was it. She flexed her fingers and rolled her neck, taking a moment to enjoy being alive. “And explain to me again why I’m not dead? I feel great!”

He squatted suddenly in front of her. She sucked in a breath and he shifted uncomfortably. She forced herself to relax, but his discomfort remained. A lock of hair fell across his face, giving him a rakish look. “Vitastami saved you, girl. This,” one long-fingered hand gestured to the tree, “is the place for captives. It is for traitors and liars and idiots.” She pulled away from his gaze and looked at the tree again, slightly offended. He caught the feeling and sighed. “You weren’t supposed to live, especially with your condition. No one lives long here unless they get out or Vitastami decides they will live,” he was saying. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming. No one has ever survived the rasvatee.” His eyes shifted back and forth, searching for something in hers. “No one,” he repeated. Abruptly, he stood and began to pace.

She watched him, mulling over his words. No one had ever survived this prison chamber. She rubbed her shoulder thoughtfully. It had to be luck. He certainly hadn’t done anything to help her out, and he had obviously planned on her dying. Kira tried to remember. When had she drunk anything? Not once did she remember waking. Disturbed, she stared upwards into the soft green light. The snowflake leaves drifted lightly down; light escaped through places where the leaves were thin, but even those spears of light were tainted by the