CHAPTER NINE

JAHLE

It was a moment of madness. One minute he was awash with relief that Mel had made it safely back to him and the next moment… The next moment, his heart could stop, and his life would have been worth every minute of misery if he could die here, in her arms.

No!

He pushed away from Mel, and she gasped, like a miner breaching the surface after a cave-in. Her hands reached for him, but Jahle rolled onto his heels and stood. The muscles in his thighs spasmed from the movement, and his arms felt like rubber.

Fool! Fool!

“We should go,” he said. The regret in his heart made his voice sharper than he intended.

Mel winced. She nodded, mostly to herself, and then stood. “Yeah. Gotta go.”

He had to untie the knots on her clothing, and she pulled them on while Jahle averted his eyes from her lush form. She was tall and slender, but she was solid with muscle. She was not weak, of body, or of heart, but that was the reason he needed to keep her at arm’s length.

She deserves to flourish.

He didn’t wait for her. He strode away while she tied the strings of her shoes. He heard her scrambling to gather up her belongings, but he did not look back.

Better to wipe the memory of her soft body against his. Better to forget the intoxicating taste of her, or the way her scent wrapped around his head, making thoughts fuzzy. No. He wanted her, but she should not waste her life. He had no future, and no hope.

She caught up to him shortly. She didn’t follow behind, but walked beside him, watching his face. Jahle had many opportunities to learn to school his expressions with his brother, so the face he turned to her was devoid of emotion.

“You,” she said. Her voice tapered off.

“Me?” Jahle said, in his blandest voice.

She shook her head, sending her hair whipping around. “I don’t get you. I really don’t.”

She fell behind, letting him stride ahead.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered under his breath. “That makes two of us.”

They walked in silence for a while, taking the trail at a manageable speed. Now that Mel knew of the urgency of their task, she seemed prepared to move faster. She spent less time admiring the view and kept her gaze fixed on the path.

Good, Jahle thought. We should both keep our minds on the Water People.

When they finally dropped down off the ledge and into the city, Mel blinked. “Wow, this place is a mess. You sure the Water People are here?”

Doubt crept into his mind. He turned in a circle, looking for the plume of smoke they had spotted earlier, but from eye level, it was difficult to spot against the bright sky overhead. “We saw their fires.”

“Well, any ideas where? It looked smaller from up there. But it’s an actual city from down here.”

Jahle sighed. “We shall have to look for them.”

Mel grabbed his wrist. “Hang on. They won’t be living in this wreckage. If they’re around, then they picked a good spot. So let’s think it through.”

Jahle nodded. “You are correct. There is a clearing to the north. It leads back to the tunnels. If they approached Kastik from that direction, then they are most likely to be camped there.”

“Well, okay. Let’s go!”

Mel took in the ruins with an appreciative eye. She followed the lines of the buildings and paused to peer into doorways as they passed. “This must’ve been a gorgeous place.”

“It was,” Jahle replied. “My grandparents lived here. I spent some time here every year.”

“What was your favorite thing about Kastik?”

The question took him by surprise. “I suppose I loved the fountains.” He waved to the west. “They were timed to music. Very beautiful. One of my grandmothers loved them, but my other grandmother said they were boastful. A waste of resources. She would turn up her nose when my Nana took me to see them, but she would always come along. I never knew why, when she hated them so.”

“But she loved you,” Mel said. “Sometimes we do things we don’t want for of love. I mean, I’ve been to every one of my sister’s plays. Even the one where she played a talking mop in the second grade. Her one line of dialog was ‘You’ll regret that, Farmer Jones!’ but she delivered it with conviction. I was so proud of her, even though I wanted to hide behind my seat. My sister: The Talking Mop.”

Jahle laughed. “Yes, we perform many laborious tasks for those we love. I once carried my eldest sister’s dissection kit from the pond back to the house, because the sight of the amphibian she had studied upset her, but she wanted to preserve the remains. She grew up to become a doctor.”

“What happened to your family? I mean, I know you have your brother, but I didn’t see a sister.”

“Dead,” Jahle replied. “My parents, both my sisters and my oldest brother. Only Dogan and I remain.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was soft. The sympathy in it made his heart ache.

Don’t be, he wanted to reply. It’s our own damn fault.

Greed. Anger. Hate.

They sat on a garden wall and ate. Then, they walked until the buildings thinned out. Here, the ruins were less dilapidated. The windows were all blown out, but the roofs and doors remained. Mel marveled at the decorative urns lining the front steps of a house.

“We are reaching the boundaries of the city,” Jahle said. “Keep your eyes open for the Water People.”

They stumbled onto their campsite by accident. Mel had spotted a flash of color out of the corner of her eye. A doll lay fallen beside an alley. Its dress was clean enough that it had not been part of the ruins. It was a more recent addition. Mel smoothed down the dress, and peered down the alley.

“You think they’re down there?”

“Let us go see.”

The alley led to a communal garden behind a row of houses. The garden was long dead, and only the raised vegetable beds and gnarled tree skeletons remained. A dying fire sat in a ring of paving stones.

“Look!” Mel darted forward. “It’s still smoking!”

Jahle reached out to grab her hand, but she was too quick. She stopped beside the fire, and peered at the ground.

“I think people were here recently.” She looked up at him, and her eyes grew wide. “Very, very recently.”

At the jerk of her chin, Jahle turned. A tall Ennoi woman with graceful horns stood in front of them. In her hand, she held a cylindrical object, which she pointed at Mel and Jahle. She jerked her chin, and her eyes flicked to Mel.

Taking the cue, Jahle stepped backward slowly, until he stood beside Mel. The Ennoi woman lifted her chin and raised her weapon, and both Mel and Jahle raised their hands.

“I’m guessing that’s not a sonar evaluator,” Mel whispered.

“No, it is not,” Jahle replied.

“Who are you?” The Ennoi woman’s voice was strong and held a ring of authority.

“We have no ill intent. We come-” Jahle began.

The woman shook her weapon, and Jahle stopped speaking. Her eyes remained fixed on Mel. “I am talking to you! Who are you?”

Mel’s eyes flicked between Jahle and the stranger. “Uhm. My name is Melissa Harlock. I’m from Earth. This is-”

“Why are you here?” the woman snapped.

Mel frowned. She looked to Jahle waiting for him to speak.

“We’ve brought me-” he began.

The woman interrupted again. “I asked you why you are here!”

The emphasis on the word ‘you’ made Jahle’s jaw tighten. A muscle in his cheek twitched, and sadness washed over him. His body seemed to grow heavier, as if the realization piled extra weight upon his shoulders.

So, he thought, it has come to this.

He turned to Mel. “You will have to speak to her. She will not listen to my words.”

Mel tipped her head in confusion. “Okay? She won’t speak to men?”

“I will explain later. For now, you talk.”

Mel addressed the Ennoi woman. “We’ve come to deliver medicine and food.”

At her words, the Ennoi woman’s face softened. The furrow on her brow between her horns lifted. “Medicine,” she whispered, as if the word was sacred. The look of wonder on her face fled, and the hardness returned. “Come.”

She jerked her weapon, and stepped aside, clearing the alleyway. Jahle nodded to Mel, and she walked to the alley. Jahle remained where he was, watching the Ennoi woman. The muzzle of her weapon followed Mel, but her eyes flicked to him. A look of uncertainty crossed her face. She resolutely returned her eyes to Mel.

It is true.

With a sigh, Jahle followed Mel. The woman led them through a maze of alleyways until they emerged into a wide field. Tents of waxed fabric dotted the field, and in the distance Jahle spotted heavy mining vehicles parked in a semicircle.

A fire burned in the middle of the field, but the campsite was deserted, save for one figure wrapped in a heavy blanket. The woman whistled twice, high and loud. The Ennoi at the campsite raised his head, and Jahle recognized him as Ketug.

He made it home.

“Zayef, what have you brought me?” Ketug tried to stagger to his feet, but the Ennoi woman – Zayef – pushed past them and raced to his side. She grabbed his arm and forced him to sit. She whispered into his ear, their horns skimming each other.

Is she his Avowed mate?

They both looked up to where Mel and Jahle stood, and Ketug waved a feeble hand. “Come sit, human.”

Beside him, Mel shifted her weight. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

“Go sit,” Jahle said. “Everything will be fine if you do as they say. They will not harm you.”

But they might harm me.

Mel took a seat across the fire from Ketug, and Jahle took a stance behind her.

Ketug coughed. He looked worse than the last time Jahle had seen him. His face was paler, and he had begun to shed scales, revealing the pale, delicate skin beneath. The wounds on his skin sent bright tendrils of red across his skin.

Jahle felt a pang of regret. He is dying. His eyes shot to Zayef, who kept her eyes fixed on Ketug. Her hand played over the back of his neck, soothing his pain with her presence. And when he dies, so will she.

“Zayef says you bring medicine and food,” Ketug said. His eyes lit with hope, but his face remained wary. He did not move his gaze from Mel.

Jahle slung the bags off his shoulder. He stepped around Mel and dropped the packs of food beside the fire. He carefully placed the pouch in front of Ketug. As he stepped back, he saw Ketug’s nostrils flare, but the Ennoi man paid no attention to Jahle. Zayef’s face was not as schooled. Her eyes darted to the packs, and she shifted her weight.

“Where is the medicine?” Ketug said, clearing his throat.

Mel blinked at him. Jahle merely shrugged his shoulders when she looked at him. “Err,” Mel said. “They’re right there. In front of you.”

As if freed from a chain, Zayef darted forward and seized the bag. She fumbled with the clasp and threw open the bag. Her mouth moved, and then her breath shuddered out. “Twelve,” she whispered. “Ketug, there are twelve.”

Ketug nodded. “Deliver them. Go.”

Zayef hurried away, headed to the nearest tent. A hoarse shout rose up from the tent, and shortly, Zayef raced out, heading to another tent. An elderly Ennoi woman hobbled out as Zayef left, and gathered up the packs. Open sores dotted her arms and cheeks.

She nodded to Mel, and a smile creased her dolor-ravaged face. “Blessings be upon you.”

Mel blinked. “Thanks. But it wasn’t me. Jahle planned-”

The smile faded, as if wiped from her. The old woman’s mouth tightened, and she spat on the ground. She turned from Mel and hobbled away, muttering curses under her breath.

“Wh-” The heartbroken look Mel shot him made his chest ache, but Jahle tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Later,” he mouthed to her. When she shook her head in puzzlement, he spoke the word. The translator wouldn’t pick up his miming.

Mel shuffled her feet, and turned back to Ketug. “Uhm. I’m Mel. Melissa Harlock.” She raised her finger and pointed to Jahle. This is-”

“I am Ketug of the Water People,” Ketug stated, his face like thunder. “It is very brave of you to journey this far alone. You have great fortitude to come all this way, by yourself.”

Mel gaped. “What? I-I didn’t…”

A shout from a nearby tent drew their attention. Zayef stood in the doorway, and beckoned to Ketug. “Come! Eien has woken. Our son is awake!”

The darkness on Ketug’s face lifted. He stood, and, swaying like a reed in the breeze, he stumbled his way to the tent.

As soon as he was gone, Mel whipped around to face him. “What,” she hissed at him, “the hell is going on?”

He braced himself. It was time he told her. She had a right to know. If he told her, maybe then he would accept this relationship was doomed. Regret filled his mouth, but he tried to push it away.

I have earned this. I cannot change the past.

Jahle shrugged. “I have died.”