Girl of Myth and Legend (27 page)

I roll onto my side.

‘Korren, come meet me…’

How can I?
I think.
You’re in a place I can never reach.

LEONIE

FIRE ON FIRE

I wrap the blankets around me, sinking into my bed. I’m not aware of the goings-on around me, though I vaguely remember O’Sah’s presence as the days pass. I keep seeing Korren in my mind, how our souls saw one another, perfectly unbiased. In the moment that we were bound, I felt compelled to be by his side and to stay there forever. But there was more than that. Though I didn’t experience his past, or see it, I
felt
it: the pain, the suffering, and despite how insignificant it seemed, I felt threads of happiness, of
hope
. All of these heavy emotions accumulated inside of me, and even now I’m struggling to carry them. It’s like I’ve caught a chilling fever that’s made my body weak and my mind slow, and there is a pain so immense and constantly present within me that I struggle to breathe.

‘I’m bringing the kytaen to you.’ I’m not sure when O’Sah said this, but I grabbed him, shouting, ‘No, leave him!’ I know that Korren being by my side will ease the agony I’m feeling, because part of it is to do with him being distant from me, but I also can’t allow him to be near me. Of all the emotions I felt from him on the day of our binding, the most prominent was despair. I know he has to be alone, to mourn, to think, to heal.

So, as the days pass by, I remain in my bed, shaking and trying to hold firm against the unwavering weight of his memories. And briefly, when the pain allows me, I wonder: what sorrow latches itself so mercilessly onto Korren?

_________________

I stuff the food that O’Sah brought to me into my mouth. Two days ill with nothing to eat—I deserve this feast! I come close to choking a few times, O’Sah having to slam his hand against my back, but the food is definitely bringing my energy levels back up.

Though the burden of Korren’s memories weighs heavily on me, I’ve managed to adapt to them and find them less draining than I did before. The only thing I’m struggling to adapt to is the pain of our distance. He’s so close to me, and yet to me it feels like he’s lost to this world. Without him I feel like I can’t exist. I scoff. I know these feelings aren’t real; they’re a fabrication, part of the bond that forces me to want to be near him. Acknowledging that doesn’t make it any less annoying.

I look at Pegasus. ‘I’d rather be bound to you, boy. Bet you don’t have any problems besides where to take your morning dump.’

I knew that Korren had issues the first night we spoke, but I didn’t realise his past was so intense. I’d be an obvious liar if I denied I was curious about his memories, because I do wonder what happened to him. How could he harbour such anguish? It seems impossible for one being to carry around such a burden. Then again, he’s lived for thousands of years, and it’d be a tad naïve of me to think he’s spent all that time without suffering now and then, particularly considering how Chosen treat kytaen.

There’s a knock on my door and O’Sah enters my room.

‘Any news on my dad?’ I say, eyes narrowed.

‘Nothing will change until we get to the Imperium, my Lady,’ he says. ‘But I’m certain that once you meet Sebastian Crato he’ll release your father.’

‘And I still can’t see my dad?’

‘I’m afraid not. That’s not why I’m here, though.’

‘If it’s not news about Dad or to discuss more food, I’m not interested in hearing anything you have to say.’

He sighs. It might be the most human thing he’s ever done. ‘I didn’t want your father to be confined. Your happiness is my only want.’

‘And here was me thinking you weren’t a funny guy, O’Sah.’

‘…My Lady, do you know why your father was permitted to leave the Imperium and live in the human realm?’

‘Of course I don’t. In case you didn’t notice, he never tells me anything.’

‘He’s known to some as an oracle. Like telepaths, seers are rare in our world, but even when they do come about, they’re not nearly as capable as your father. When he was a boy, or so I was told, he was made to live in the inner walls of the Imperium, confined to the stargod of time Owahla’s temple.’

‘Made to?’

‘I imagine no one wants to be locked within walls, my Lady, but the late Divinity was insistent. For a time, he even visited your father every day, trying to learn his future, but your father, though powerful, could only see certain things. The Divinity grew impatient with him and when Orin was much older, he was set free.’

I think of my dad being confined. I think of the reason he kept me a secret from the Imperium. Was it because he fears them? Yes, he does. The look in his eyes when they came for me was enough proof of that. But to think that he had to live in some stuffy temple all of his boyhood, just on the whim of some guy, albeit an important guy, but still just a guy.

‘It was a few years later, more than sixteen years ago now, I think, that he asked the current Divinity to let him live in the human realm,’ O’Sah says. ‘I don’t know why the Divinity allowed it, maybe because he felt somewhat guilty for what his father had done to him, but he was allowed to go and live a life there.

‘But Orin did something foolish. As you know, if you’re sent to the human realm, you must have a device inserted into your body so we can track you. Orin had this done, but somehow, and even now after questioning he won’t tell us how, he managed to get rid of it. He went off our radar as soon as he travelled to a country called Australia. At first, trackers searched for him, but the Divinity called it off eventually, saying Orin Woodville was not important. At least, that’s how I heard it. Little did anyone know that he would father a Pulsar, and that giving up on finding him was a grave mistake.

‘What’s important for you to know is this, though. Sebastian Crato was the late Council Head Markus Altibi’s official underling back then, his protégé. As a test, Altibi made Crato responsible for finding Orin Woodville. When he could not, and when the Divinity cancelled the search, Altibi blamed Crato for this failure, and dismissed him from duty. When Altibi died, Crato became the Head through vote, but he never forgot how close he was to losing his power.’

‘So what you’re saying is’, I begin, ‘that Crato has a personal vendetta against my dad.’

‘Yes, one he’s unlikely to let go.’

‘But then, isn’t that unfair? Isn’t that abusing his power?’

O’Sah looks at the floor. I don’t think he can bring himself to reprimand his leader.

‘Why would you tell me this?’ I ask him.

‘I’m not sure, my Lady. I suppose because you may be able to use it somehow to help your father.’

I nod. It may help my case. I may be able to use it against Crato if I point out that his personal feelings are getting in the way of his judgement. But I’d be making an enemy out of him, too, and I don’t need to add an enemy to the list I already have. Then again, I’m not going to sit around and let Dad die. I can use this information; I just have to use it in a way that won’t make Crato look weak in front of his nation.

‘My Lady, you look sad,’ says O’Sah.

‘I do?’

‘I’m sorry if I troubled you, it wasn’t my inten—’

‘It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve known my dad all my life, and it turns out you know him better than me, and probably more than I ever will.’

I’m not expecting O’Sah to comfort me, and I don’t want him to either. He may have given me relevant information, but it doesn’t mean I like him. I’m about to thank him, when he stands up.

‘I didn’t come here to speak about your father, though, my Lady, if you will excuse my bluntness. It’s about the kytaen. You should go to it now. The thing is sulking out there, acting as if its…
one of us
.’

‘So what? You don’t know what he’s been through.’

‘And I don’t care to. All I care about is that you get better. Don’t hold yourself back out of fear of hurting its
feelings
.’ His lip curls in disgust.

‘I’m not afraid of hurting his feelings,’ I say. ‘I’m being respectful of them. But I
will
go to him. It’s been long enough.’ He can’t hide away forever.

Once O’Sah’s gone, I go to the en-suite and spend a long time in the shower, enjoying how the water massages my cramped muscles. I dry off and stare at myself in the mirror. My complexion’s still pale and I open my eyes wide to look at my irises. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the burgundy colour, but it’s kind of cool. I tie my hair up, leaving two curly strands to frame my face. Then, once I’m dressed, I gobble down some more food, grab my backpack, and make my way to the shed. As I get near, I feel the string that links Korren and me shortening, and know he’ll be aware that I’m approaching him. That means no turning back, no matter how anxious I feel about facing him. So I put on a façade, the best I can muster, and plaster a grin on my face.

I slam the shed door open. Korren is waiting for me, and I gulp. He’s radiant; it’s like I’m standing before an ancient being of wonder, and I long to stay by his side, to never part from him. I almost gag. He’s looking at me just as strangely, as if I were another person. There’s a caution in his eyes, probably because he’s aware I have an idea of his past.

‘Good morning,’ I say, keeping a grin on my face.

‘What do you want?’ he grumbles.

‘You, actually. O’Sah and the others say I can’t see my dad for legal reasons. So, I’m going to do the most respectful thing—see my dad.’

He shakes his head. ‘How exactly is that respectful?’

‘Who knows? I would’ve gone on my own, but seeing as I can’t be too far from you without feeling like I’m going to die a slow and excruciating death, I’m thinking that would be impossible. So, you coming? I haven’t got all day. I’m supposed to be meeting with O’Sah soon.’

‘You know where your father’s being held?’

‘When I was in the middle of feeling like my soul was being ripped into tiny shreds’—I give him a forced smile—‘Magen came to check on me, and I heard them talking. I didn’t know they did that, by the way. They were talking about my dad, and from all the hints they dropped, I learnt where he is.’

‘Which is where?’

‘He’s in the temple, underground.’

‘Ah. He’s in the crypt.’

‘Yup. And I’m going to see him.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting to break him out of there.’

‘…No, of course not.’

‘You are, aren’t you?’

‘No! But say that I was, what’s so bad about that?’

‘For one thing, you’ll be breaking the law. You may be a Pulsar, and you may even escape a death punishment, but you won’t be exempt from other penances.’

‘So no breaking Dad out. OK. Well, as long as I can see him and talk to him, and as long as I can find a way to get Sebastian Crato to free him, then I’m fine with that. Are you coming?’

I give him a coat and scarf to wear and turn to leave. He could bear it if I returned to the temple, but for me to go further than that, even underground, would be agonising, so I know he’ll follow me as I walk out into the flatland towards the temple.

We walk without speaking. I know I need to say some-thing, though. I can’t ignore what happened, what I saw, what I felt, but I know that whatever pain he hides in his memories, he’s unwilling to share it, to remember it. Nonetheless, it’s useless to pretend I haven’t experienced his suffering.

‘Korren,’ I say eventually, ‘it’s not my business, but…’ I think of the tears that trickled down his face that night of the soul-binding. ‘Korren—’

‘So you’re training with O’Sah. I didn’t think you’d resume it so soon,’ he says.

‘Huh? Oh, no. I’ll start again when I’m better rested. We’re just going to study history today since I know hardly anything—scratch that—
nothing
about the Imperium,’ I say, and lose all confidence to pursue my topic. I stare out to the plain. ‘It’s winter here, but Dad told me the Eastern Shores where the Imperium is are in a constant summ—’ My foot slips on an ice-glazed rock rooted in the snow, and without having much time to think, I grab Korren’s coat and pull him down with me. He ends up head-first in the snow, whereas I land on my hands and knees, and my right wrist cracks.

‘OW!’ I yell. ‘Holy crap! Ow ow ow
ow
!’

I move so I’m sitting upright, observing my throbbing wrist. Korren takes his head out from the snow, growling as he does, and moves onto his knees. I can feel the anger and frustration rippling from him, and even a bit of humiliation.

‘Don’t be embarrassed,’ I say. ‘I’m sure kytaen trip over aaall the time.’

‘I didn’t trip, you pulled me down!’

‘Technically, but I thought you’d be a strong enough grip for me to hold myself up.’

I notice his cheek is red from where he hit it, and I reach out for it, not realising I’m doing so. It’s a small action, maybe insignificant, but as soon as my hand touches his face, it doesn’t feel so insignificant. He freezes like a statue and his gaze engulfs me. His reaction makes me pause, my fingertips lingering on his cheek. Since I’ve met him I’ve tried to be his friend, but I’ve also looked at him as something beyond human, something conjured from magic and old stories and, yes, even fairy tales. But touching him, even at the tips of my fingers, I’m suddenly mindful of his solidity, that he is not a character from a book, that he is made up of all the things that I am, and that he has a heart that beats and thumps and feels and
yearns
. All I can feel from him is confusion and surprise, and, at his response to what I’m doing and to what my heart is doing, my cheeks flush. My hand drops and the moment unfreezes.