Heartfelt Sounds (6 page)
I find more letters. More stacks of papers as something softly scratches at the upturned wall near my face.
I ignore it. I read:
Greetings from the Vale!—
The west is alive and buzzing.—
Felicity stays neutral in these affairs—if worse comes to worse—
The princes will give you away
—
Come to the Vale
—
I blink. The letters end—the writing becomes more feverish. Water blurs the lines and I can't make anything else out. Something
squelches
through the mud outside and I freeze.
The west is alive and buzzing.
Years ago, before Yarne plucked me from the streets and gave me a home at the Orthella, great wars raged in the east. Wars brought about by normal people tired of petty rulers. Tired of the gentry. The gentry titled them “drudges” and mercilessly made examples of those who questioned foul rulers and despondent kings. But the drudges weren't put down easily—in the years that would come to pass after those examples were made, their sons sought revenge and rallied the drudges against their gentry overlords. It started in the Wish, lands opposite the Arden Vale, and the rebellion eventually grew to the Vale and onward. Gentry were ousted from their castles and forced to fight back. These Drudge Wars pushed the gentry past Felicity and into the west where the gentry fled and hid for centuries. Centuries of peace. Yarne described those wars as a stain upon our history—a scarlet spot no one has been able to wash out.
We have grown to fear the west and what could come from it. Yet—
the west is alive and buzzing.
I pull myself from the carriage and into the rain.
Into the snarling face of a wild dog.
A black creature that rears back its head. Snarls and charges for me. I rise to my toes and pull myself onto the carriage as it howls at me. Yowls with a low bark—over and over. It jumps as I lower myself onto all fours on top of the carriage's white side.
The creature quiets when thunder rolls across the horizon. I bring my hands to my ears.
And teeth rip into the bottom of my gown. Pulling at me. The creature snorts and snarls and
pulls.
I scream. I kick my leg out—meeting it's teeth. Sharp canines scissor at my skin and a slipper slips off as the dog whines. As the dog snarls and jumps again.
I stand—the dog barking at my left. I stand—and propel myself from the front of the carriage. I tumble as I fall, rolling into a ball as mud intertwines with my hair and dirt cakes my face. I can hear the dog sprinting—running for me. I take a second to look back and see foam dribbling from its wide mouth. It barks. I run. I see Akane's parlor window some ways up ahead, and I sprint for it. Water pelts my face—I blink—I trip, but I catch myself on deft fingertips and propel myself forward again. Running faster than I've ever gone. Running like the wind.
I make it to the alleyway and throw myself towards the green door with the dog on my heels—huffing. The monster barking and snarling as it runs into a wall.
I bring my hand to the handle.
I yank—I pull.
I round on the dog as it jumps at me. Shield my face and it clutches to my arm. I knee it in the belly—ramming my knee into it's ribcage instead as I miss my mark. It whines. It hits the ground and grovels and I've got my back to the door. The rain above cleansing my face as dirt and muck runs down it. As my dress is destroyed. I'm missing a shoe and the mutt's coming for me again. Winding its head side to side—swaying—dancing. It throws itself at me.
I race down the alleyway—try the other door and it opens—but the dog's throws itself onto my back. It's sniffing through my hair—trying to bite my neck.
I slam my back into the wall. My teeth jitter. My heart pounds. I hear a
crack
and the creature whimpers. Rolls to the ground.
I turn to look. Clench my hands into fists. Wring my fingers against my thumbs. Turning on my heel, I walk towards the door to Shanti's loom room. Press my hand to the wood—freeze.
It's raining. It's wet and cold and the thing's whimpering behind me.
It just tried to kill you—
But I grind my teeth. I clench my fist.
I can't just leave it out here to die.
I turn around, looking the creature in the eye.
Its rabid—it's going to die anyway. Let nature take care of it.
But I can't. It whimpers when I come near. It tries to pick itself up, but can't because its left paw hangs limp. I broke it. I've broken an animal.
I shush it. Pick it up and cuff it on the ear when it growls a warning that dissolves into a baby-like whimper.
I take it inside and shut the door to the cold, but there's no heat in here. No fire to keep us warm.
I'll just try the door later. Maybe someone will come looking for me.
Everything will be fine.
I hope.
I set the creature down. It whimpers—snarls. Its gratitude quickly changes to anger—but I shush it. Hum to it.
I sing.
…
Hours later, when darkness covers all, I bring my hand to the dog's chest, ruffling its fur.
No heart beats. Its legs are limp when I pat them, when I bring my fingers to its soft head.
It's dead.
And I've killed it.
…
When Shanti finds me, she cries.
Shanti rushes me into Akane's parlor. The light of the moon curls through the bay window to my right as Akane steps out of the shadows. White light hangs heavy shadows beneath her eyes and lips, framing her as a midnight wraith. Fiery hair stands as a bushy crown about her oval-shaped head. Her body blocks us—though Shanti does not see—and I slam into Akane. The redhead catching me as Shanti rams into my back. Behind me, I hear her sob. I hear the palms of her hands slap to the tiles of the floor as she cries. As she moans.
“What have you done to this girl?” Akane snaps. She moves to stand in front of me, hands on her hips as she hisses darkly. “Shanti—
what have you done?”
I tap Akane's shoulder. “
Nothing—
I—,”
“I—fool that I am—told her to go outside. I-I told her to…
guh…”
I watch black kohl trail down Shanti's face like dirt as she moans deeply. As her shoulders wrack with her sorrow. Akane watches—frozen. Hands on her hips. Feet squarely planted. “…I never wanted you to run, my darling—I-I'm…” but she can't pull herself together long enough to form sentences as she cries. Moonlight shifts from the table, trickling towards her as it leaves Akane and I in the dark.
“Shanti—I-”
But Akane shushes me with a look. Hard emerald eyes glow in the dark. The eyes of a cat.
Suddenly—I feel the pain from earlier. The bite marks on my arm and back. The rip in my foot—the bite mark deep and long. A pink gash.
My dress hangs from me in purple tatters. Beneath it, the shift has gone muddy and dark. Blood—dark blood is everywhere. It browns on my torso. On the skirts.
I—I killed something.
I feel like I might faint.
“Go upstairs.” Akane growls, her voice a low warning. “And go to bed.”
“But she's hurt—this is my fault! This is my problem!”
“And
I'll
fix it.” Akane hovers over Shanti as the sobbing woman pulls herself up from the floor. A ruddy face stares into one that is as hard as glass. The tension makes me swoon.
“Go. To. Bed.”
“
No—
she's
my
sister! She's
mine.”
the last word is a venomous
hiss.
I can't stand this.
They square off against each other. One is hugged by light, the other swathed in darkness.
I force myself between the two. My head aches. Warmth burns through me.
“Enough!”
Both women snarl at me—but their faces soften.
As I fall—my head airy and light. My whole body burning.
Like I'm on fire.
…
I wake in a tub of cool water. It's made of tin—and too small for me. I am in a room I have never been in before. The walls are a creamy white—soft. I crane my head behind me and see a white screen lined with dark wood panels. The door slides slightly open as a bare foot kicks it. I hear Shanti's voice.
“I'll leave this here—of course, my dear—I promise.”
A soft
swoosh
of feet as she leaves. Her silhouette is dark against the white screen of the door as she disappears. As another person bends to pick something up. As the foot reappears in the gap in the door—and I realize I'm naked. I move to cover myself as Akane invites herself in. Slides the screen to a close as she brings an armful of clothing towards me.
“Don't worry—we're girls here, right?” she chuckles deeply, laying the clothing near the tub. “Besides, you've been in there for quite some time now. Shanti's idea—we saw something bit you. Figured the heat would sweat away infection. How are you feeling?”
The green sleeves of her long tunic have been stained with my blood. I look at the arm the dog bit. Roll my palm over and examine the marks. I wiggle the toes of my injured foot. “Fine—I guess.” I sigh, my arms fall back into the water. Instinctively, I cover my breasts. “T-thank you.” I tell her—heat rushing to my face. “I feel a lot better.”
Akane nods. “That's good to know. Shanti sends her apologies—uhm,” she rubs a hand upon her neck—averting her eyes to the far corner of the room. “as do I. Naia…I'm sorry you had to see that.”
“I'm glad it's over.”
“Yeah,” she nods. “me too.”
I am in Akane's room—off to the left side of the hallway. She sleeps alone.
“When there were more girls here,” she tells me as I dry off—I wince as the tattered cloth catches at the marks on my neck as I dry my hair with it. “there would be three to a room—including mine. Right across from here is another room—vacant. Would you like to sleep there? Spend some time away from Shanti?”
I think on this—but I shake my head. I don't think I could ever sleep alone again—not with the dreams I have. “I don't mind her.” I tell Akane honestly. “I've known her for part of my life—we'll get over this.”
If there
is
anything to get over.
When I turn to leave, a new gown of scarlet petals covering me, Akane stops me. “Hey, Naia?”
I stop, turn to face her. I cock my head.
Emerald eyes are stones—her worried gaze replaced with one of determination. With one of control. “Don't
ever
go out there without one of us.” her voice turns dark—her face darker. “The things that soul showed you? They're true—whether you believe it or not. Half the city's left for fear of an army coming from the west—and they aren't wrong. Things are going to get worse out there, girl. And someday—you might have to fend for yourself. But while you're under
my
roof, you're under
my
protection. Got it?”
I swallow. Gracelessly, I nod.
…
Days later, I catch a fever as a house across the street catches flame. There's screaming. There's a massive stamping of a thousand feet in the mud and chanting. People roar and the fire roars back. They're screaming names—three names—over and over. Cursing them. Damning them to the four circles of the underworld. I approach the hallway's window and bring my fingertips to it's wooden lip. My arms tremble slightly as I bring my eyes to look. To peer at the crackling orange and the growing cloud of angry people. I gasp as they begin to throw things—
powder?—
and the firelight dances with delight at what it's fed. It crackles and spits—showering the crowd in a thousand embers.
A body sidles down next to me. A recognize Chima's brown bob as she raises her face to hover near mine—staring at the fire. Listening. A hand grabs my shoulder and I freeze. “Shouldn't you be abed? Kokoros said you should be sleeping—you feel
hot!”
Nyx's voice. But I don't dare peel my eyes away.
“What are they screaming about?”
“'Samiya! Aranka! Takari! Selling our city! Selling our souls!'”
Nyx repeats the chant behind me, whispering the hissed words.
“The merchant p-princes of Felicity,” Chima tells me, backing up from the window when the fire roars again—enticing the crowd to roar with it. “The rest…” she shakes her head. “…it c-could mean
anything…”
when my eyes wander to her own, she blushes and looks down into her hands.
“It means they're gonna burn Felicity so the westerners can't
have
it—it makes perfect sense, Chim! They're calling the merchant princes because those three think they have the power to just
give
Felicity away—I guess,” she quickly adds. “honestly, this is all just kind of
normal.”
Is it normal to burn your own land?
I shake my head at that. “And why do you say that?”
Nyx taps her fingertips upon my shoulder. “Ah, ah,
ah!
You aren't getting out of bed rest by asking me tons of
questions!
Chima—help me drag her!”
I sigh dramatically, rolling my eyes for effect when I turn to face Nyx. I smile. “I'll be fine.” I tell her. But she shakes her head and rams a finger towards the room Shanti and I share.
“To
bed
sickling!”
…
But I lied.
Though I felt fine that day—things became worse.
With each passing day, as the seasons changed and the world grew colder, the fever burned hotter. I couldn't hold food down—and nor did I want it. My stomach flipped. My foot and arm twitching erratically as my neck burned as if the dog had recently bitten me. My head ached as a fog crept in and held my mind. Soon I forgot names—forged the faces of the girls from the Orthella onto the faces of the girls I lived with now. Everything confused me and I could barely keep water down as I sweated through my blankets. As the world turned upside down—my stomach turning with it as I'd roll over in the night and vomit on myself, bile coming up. Nothing coming up.
Is it my time, dear Fates?
I'd ask in moments of clarity—fleeting as they were.
And sometimes I would sing…my voice petering out as my mind gobbled up the lyrics. As the fog rolled in and constricted my mind. Frustration would churn up tears, replacing my singing voice with a choked sob—my songs gone for what felt like forever.