6 - True Names
Kuruny flipped her hair over her shoulder and shot Shimma a disapproving stare. Shimma shied away and sat, picking at chicken bones. She didn’t want to talk about what happened with Krishani and the new Kaliel. It was too awkward to watch Kaliel giggle and skip around the dance floor like nothing had happened. She was acting like they were in Avristar, like she hadn’t died and Krishani hadn’t almost become a Vulture. She was acting like Krishani hadn’t killed someone in cold blood. Shimma snapped a chicken bone in half and pushed it away, wiping her hands down her clean blue dress. She glanced at Kuruny, clad in an unseemly gray tunic to her ankles. It wasn’t formed with a bodice or proper neckline, almost like a burlap sack.
“Are you satisfied then?” Kuruny asked, her black eyes meeting Shimma’s. Today they were stormy and sharp. She looked away and watched the villagers dance. Kaliel’s laughter frothed from the midst of the crowd and she grabbed another chicken bone and plucked grizzle off it.
“No,” she began. The bone snapped and she shoved it away. “No I’m not okay alright?” She folded her hands in her lap wiping chicken grease between her legs. The heavy weight against her chest wasn’t going away. She didn’t intend to feel anything for Krishani; he wasn’t likeable to begin with, but there was something vulnerable about him underneath all that hardness. She saw why Kaliel never questioned his love for her. He was loyal and tender when it counted most.
All of the men she had been with were rough and dishonest. In return she was the same, not expecting it to last very long. She used men for what she could gain. She had no interest in raising a family and settling down. Not with a man anyway.
Kazza chuckled softly. “She’s hopeless, Kuruny. She still thinks she can be close to him.” Kazza went to stand but Shimma got up first, rounded the table and grabbed Kazza’s shoulder, pinching it hard between her thumb and forefinger. The beads around Kazza’s neck clanked in response.
“How’s that wound healing, dear sister?” She snickered, digging her fingers in harder until Kazza gasped.
“Enough,” Kuruny said like she was bored. “You’ll only cause him misery if you stay.”
Shimma let go and caught Krishani facing her from across the room. It was only for a second and he didn’t even look in her direction. His entire focus was on Kaliel. “How so?”
“If he is happy, he should remain that way,” Kuruny muttered.
Shimma scoffed and plopped down, her legs straddling the bench. The silver platters and mugs jangled around. “You think I should let it go?”
Kuruny smirked. “You’re right, Kazza. She’s hopeless. We should leave her so she can see what will happen when she interferes with the two of them.” She sounded bitter, so bitter that Shimma remembered something from long ago, before the enemies ravaged Avristar and the volcano exploded. She stopped, her hand resting on the table, her fingers trembling. She had forgotten all about that night, all about what Kuruny had done.
“I didn’t even think. I’m sorry,” Shimma said.
Kuruny set her jaw. “You forget that I have seen the extent of his anger. That night on Avristar aside, he has extraordinary power.”
“You mean the beach?” Shimma asked, her eyes darting across the room. She caught the bards in their familiar formation, playing to their hearts’ content. They weren’t half as good as the bards on Avristar. She almost wished she could live a nomadic lifestyle like they did, traveling, not staying for long in one place. Trekking to safe places with her sisters and always running from something was destitute. She wanted to have a reason to belong, not just a warm bed for a night while she figured out where to go next.
“Not the beach. You forget that I knew almost everything that happened on Avristar. Krishani hurt someone else, someone in Hawklin. Istar was too much of a coward to admit it publically.” Her eyes filled with fiery stone, ringlets of deep purple skirting the pupils.
“You didn’t tell us,” Kazza interrupted. She sounded annoyed. Shimma let out a breath and was glad that she didn’t have to say anything for a change. Facing Kuruny while she was near her maximum strength was a difficult task. She didn’t want to anger her sister.
“I thought you would use it to gain leverage with our father,” Kuruny said.
“I would have!” Kazza rebutted.
“Yes, but you saw what happened. Istar wiped his hands of Krishani after Kaliel awakened Avred. There would be no boon to gain once Krishani was exiled.”
“So why keep the truth to yourself?” Shimma asked. She tapped her foot on the ground nervously, her knee bouncing with it. She wanted to chew her fingernails but they were caked with dirt.
Kuruny looked distracted for a moment, letting a lull fall between them. She looked at Shimma. “I kept it to myself so he wouldn’t hurt me.”
Shimma slumped. Kuruny said it like it was obvious, that Shimma should have realized Krishani wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she got too close. Shimma shuddered at the memory of Aulises. She was the only one to see that atrocity and she hiccupped. She pressed a fist to her lips, biting her knuckles.
“So now you see why you cannot stay?” Kazza interjected.
Shimma took her fist out of her mouth and swished her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “He might need me again as a healer. He can’t expect to not be what he is.”
“A Ferryman?” Kazza asked.
Shimma nodded. “He may not like it, but that’s what he is.”
Kuruny scoffed. “Kaliel can heal him.”
“She doesn’t have any training!” Shimma shot back with a tinge of jealousy. Kuruny smirked and Shimma flushed scarlet.
“Maybe we should stay and let her stupidity prove us right,” Kuruny said with a chortle. Kazza joined and Shimma turned, burying her head in the circle of her arms.
“I think you’ve upset her,” Kazza said mockingly.
Shimma didn’t say anything. In the dark of her arms she seethed with both anger and envy. She couldn’t help it; she had never experienced love in her life. Seeing Kaliel and Krishani together confounded her. On the one hand, she wished she were Kaliel and that someone like Krishani had fallen for her. On the other she felt for him and wanted to stay and help no matter what he was to her.
She knew she should let go, travel with them to Nimphalls and aid the dragon riders. She was rather good at taming baby dragons. But she couldn’t go with her sisters, not with their condescending looks and limitations. As much as it pained her to think about it, she would have to break free of them.
• • •
Kaliel was fluid and Krishani was stone, heavy stone pounding the floor while she stepped lightly, skipping and prancing between villagers. He lost her in the music rising above the din, flashes of her green eyes turning briefly to violet as her aura spiked with wisps of color. He caught her by the hand and drew her close.
“Careful,” he said, lowering his lips to her ear. He didn’t want the humans to see her eyes, the thing that made her different. He worried it would make them covet her the way they coveted gold and jewels.
She sighed against him, her steps flowing with his, slower and heavier. “I miss the fire festivals,” she said into his shirt.
“You can’t let the villagers see your eyes. They won’t understand.” He cast a careful glance at the men and women around them. They were aging, stout and scraggly with either reddish brown tangled hair or flat, pale stringy hair. Some of them were lanky where others were robust. All of them were tanned and hairy. The women weren’t much better to look at, with wrinkles around their eyes and mouths and the same dull wasted hair. They wore long uniform tunics to their ankles that didn’t give a hint of their curves. He thought the girls that attended the fire festivals in Orlondir were plain with their ivory or navy blue gowns and hair pulled into buns atop their heads. Even the fae from Araraema with their smooth glass-like faces and beady black eyes were unattractive.
On Terra everyone suffered from the same poverty. Young maidens kept their hair around their faces and spoke when they were spoken to. It was hard to believe that when Kaliel stood out from the kinfolk on Avristar, it had been from a court of beauty and elegance. Now she stood out too much, like a speck of pure sunlight in a bed of coals.
The only thing the villagers had was spirit. They didn’t stop dancing, even when sweat slicked across their skin and their lungs heaved for air. Krishani held Kaliel close as they danced through and around the crowd, avoiding the jig and the premeditated dance steps the villagers were used to. He wasn’t sure if they had this much fun all the time, but he wasn’t about to tell the bards to stop. There was a comfortable swelling in his chest, as though in this moment everything was perfect. He spun Kaliel under his arm and pulled her back as he moved in a wide circle, her arms wrapping around his neck, his around her waist. His eyes flicked to hers; they still had liquid amethyst shimmering through the irises. His muscles tensed for a millisecond and the music stopped.
The villagers paused, one of the children letting out a protested wail. Footsteps shuffled along the floor as one of the women took the child by the hand and led him outside. Krishani watched them go as a slow clap began from behind him. Everyone parted, standing to either side of the hall as Elwen appeared in front of the throne. Krishani felt a hand tug at him and glanced down to see Kaliel pulling him towards one of the pillars. She disappeared between the villagers and left Krishani in his long sleeve gray tunic standing there with his back against the pillar, her hand in his.
He wondered what it was about Elwen she didn’t like. He almost forgot her healing and sight were better than his. She could probably smell the tyranny on him. He glowered at Elwen who perched precariously on the edge of the bottom step, his brown robes curling over the ledge, hiding his shoes. He clapped in a slow rhythm, glancing at the villagers in turn. Krishani watched their faces, confused, timorous. None of them joined Elwen, standing quietly to either side of the hall, the women with their heads bowed.
Elwen stopped and stared at Krishani with his piercing hazel eyes. “And so you have won,” he said, seeming to disregarding the villagers.
Krishani shifted nervously, heat coiling into his extremities. He wanted to attack Elwen for not fighting with the armies of Avristar, and he wanted to do it without an audience. He gritted his teeth, preparing to say something vile when Kaliel’s hand slipped out of his. Cold filled him and he faltered.
“I did what had to be done.”
Elwen raised his eyebrows. “And your quest is over now.” His face was a mask of bemusement. He glanced at the villagers. “Let it be known! Krishani has risked everything for the safety of our village.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and none of the villagers budged. One of the children clapped, but hands came over theirs, forcing them to stop. Murmurs ran through the hall. None of them really knew what was going on.
Krishani feared Elwen was going to tell them that he caused the war. Even if he won, he doubted the villagers would forgive him. He glanced at the faces; some of the men pushed their mouths to a straight line and their eyes were hard. Krishani wasn’t human like most of them. He towered above them, almost a foot taller than everyone, Elwen included. His pale skin was white compared to the beige tinge in their cheeks and his eyes were unnatural even for a Child of Avristar, one green, one blue, both bright and sharp. Humans didn’t have eyes like that. Their greens were discolored, blues tinged with gray, browns flat and dead. It was like a fog hung over the land, causing them to pale against the summer beauty of Avristar. A dull ache formed in his stomach as he stared at Elwen, his eyes blazing.
“You know it’s over,” Krishani said through clenched teeth. He wondered where Kaliel had gone, if she was standing on the other side of the pillar, or if she was tucked in his room. What he said wasn’t entirely true. The Horsemen, factions of Daed warriors, and Morgana were out there. But he wouldn’t alert Elwen or the villagers about those threats. He didn’t want to think about the Horsemen wiping out entire villages. He hoped they grew tired of the carnage. If they killed again, he would have to hunt them down and the idea of leaving Kaliel alone with Elwen made bile creep up his throat.
Elwen clapped, this time steady. He glared and the villagers picked up the applause, letting it waft through the hall like the pitter-patter of rain gaining velocity. The sound rang in Krishani’s ears, making him angry. He wanted to tackle Elwen, punch him square in the jaw and tell him that they didn’t need this spectacle, these people watching as Elwen patronized him. Krishani stole a glance over his shoulder to see if Kaliel was there and caught sight of black curls, her body pressed against the pillar, her head down. The applause died and Krishani turned back to Elwen.
“You have proven your worth to these people. Will you honor them by taking your rightful place as the Ferryman?”
Shock ripped through Krishani’s chest. It caved in, constricting his airways, making it impossible to breathe. He gaped at Elwen. After everything he had been through, Elwen still wanted him to be a vile monster. He didn’t care how Elwen saw it, Ferryman or Vulture, they were both vicious ends. He couldn’t do it. This was a family he never knew, people he couldn’t speak for. The crowd went silent as he glared at Elwen, his expression lethal. He blinked and flashes of the village along the cove flooded his vision.
The man on the white horse brings death. Rand knew what Krishani was, knew what came with him. These people didn’t understand the first thing about the Ferryman. The villagers didn’t know what Elwen was asking. He was ready to pass out when fingers sliced through his clenched fist and drew them out, gripping him and an odd sense of comfort washed over him. Kaliel turned from the pillar and sidled up next to him, her hip pressed against his thigh.
He looked at her, surprised that she would show herself. Her eyes were green again, her expression imploring. She raised herself on her tiptoes bringing her lips to his ear. “You have to give him a chance.” It sounded soothing but Krishani felt nauseous. Kaliel didn’t know what the Ferryman really was or what he did. She only knew about the nightmares, and those were benign compared to the Vultures. He shuddered and disentangled their hands, putting a protective arm around her shoulders.
Elwen smiled. “Another happy proclamation. Krishani is in love.” He narrowed his eyes at Kaliel. “This is Aulises, from Amaltheia, correct?”
Ice raced through Krishani’s veins. His mouth dropped open as he cast around for something to say. He glanced at Kaliel who looked like the stag before they caught it. She closed her mouth and nodded, not actually speaking. Krishani wondered why Elwen was so eager to conceal the identity of the Flame from the villagers. It was one thing for Krishani to want that, but Elwen agreeing with him about something only made him feel sicker about the nature of humans and their greed. Aulises was a traitorous harlot who couldn’t be trusted. And she was dead. Elwen looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response.
“Aye, she’s from Amaltheia,” Krishani said, his voice monotone.
“And she was sent by King Telper himself,” Elwen continued even though Aulises was never part of King Telper’s court. Krishani gripped Kaliel tighter, and she simpered. “You have my blessing too you know,” Elwen finished.
The villagers let another round of cheers echo across the hall. Elwen held up his hand and it came to an abrupt stop. “I still need to know, Krishani Mekallow Mekelle, Son of Marlow Tavesin, if you will take your rightful place as the Ferryman.”
Krishani blinked, feeling like Elwen had dropped a stone on his head. The name Elwen rattled off was one he never heard before. It was full of syllables and consonants that sounded clunky and foreign. It might have been a name he was given at birth, but he would always be Krishani of Amersil, of Avristar and nothing else. “What did you say?” he stuttered.
Elwen raised his eyebrows. “The name is your birthright. It is what your father named you when you were born two hundred years ago,” he said.
Kaliel slipped a little in his grasp. He moved his arm so it was around her waist and fought to hold her up. She didn’t know about the two hundred years, the way time moved differently. His heart felt impossibly heavy in his chest. He didn’t want to hear more but he couldn’t stop himself. “Who was my father?”
“It doesn’t matter. He wasn’t a Ferryman, but he was a Tavesin, like half the people in this hall.” He glanced meaningfully at certain people in the crowd. Krishani hadn’t realized the villagers were related to him by blood. He wasn’t used to that. Children were born of the land, and they all belonged to Avristar. “The question remains, Krishani. Will you be the Ferryman?” Elwen asked like Krishani actually had a choice in the matter, when in truth, if he didn’t do what Elwen wanted, he’d become a Vulture.
Krishani lived so long believing he was a Child of Avristar that a paternal connection was lost on him. Whoever Marlow Tavesin was, he sent Krishani to Avristar without a second thought. He hung his head, knowing the only answer Elwen would accept.
“Yes.”
* * *