Heartfelt Sounds (29 page)
Shanti's hand slips from my own and I open my eyes—only to be blinded by the sand. The sand and the howls of the storm.
“Shanti!”
I scream as a pair of hands grab at my wrists. As I fall to the ground and sandpaper skin grips my right wrist. Rough fingers wrap around me—tugging me down as the sand surrounding me begins to pile over my hands. As it begins to pile over my arms and legs and I feel myself being pulled. Moaning hands pull at me—pinch and prod at me as I pull away—as I grip for ground that only tumbles through the crevices of my outstretched fingers.
The air chokes me—fear constricts my throat as the howling wind deafens me. Cotton fills my mouth and my eyes feel gritty. I can't see—as grit begins to scrape at my nostrils. As more strange hands begin to pull at my skin and yank me down. Yank me farther and farther down as the sand opens up around me and the wind screams above my head.
A hand grips my own. A human one.
As a high-pitched
scream
ripples through the air—taring through the wind and the sand and the storm. Ripping through everything—until my eardrums burst and all I hear is silence. All I hear is a high-pitched buzzing in the air that forces me to open my eyes.
A pit of black surrounds me. Sand collapses into the pit as thousands of mangled hands reach towards a blackened sky of sand and grit. Shanti stands at the heart of it all, her body slowly being swallowed by the sinking pit of black as she opens her hands to the sky and throws back her head.
She's singing. She's singing for me.
And a skin tingling cry escapes through her lips, her voice ripping a hole through the gathered clouds as a human hand pulls me from the pit—rips me from the grip of the gnarled hands and their fleshy embrace.
But Shanti's sinking as she calls out to the storm—and the hands reach for her now as a horde of deep voices moan and gurgle. As hands disappear beneath the black sand, only to reappear closer to Shanti. Only to rip at the black cloth of her cloak as she continues to scream her siren's call. As she continues to sing—creating a diversion as a hand tries to pull me up and I scramble from the pit. Kicking up dust as the storm around us dies. As it howls a pained cry and shards rip at me. The hand is still holding me back—but with my free hand I reach. I reach towards Shanti who is still screaming her song as she's yanked down. As the desert opens its dark mouth to swallow her whole.
Shanti tilts her head, moving her gaze towards me as sun breaks through the dark clouds above. She lowers her arms as she sinks. As she grins with a sidelong gaze of violet.
Silence pervades as she opens her mouth. As the hands wrapped around my forearm violently yank at me. Forcing me down into the dirt as they drag me.
“My only purpose,”
she murmurs, ruby red lips parting gently,
“was to find you.”
And in this life, even though I have regrets…
my mind whispers as my lips refuse to part.
“…I will not complain.”
Ruby red lips grin. Slender violet eyes crinkle at their corners as her angular face tilts. As hair awash with silver and black shimmers beneath bright beams of gold. This is when I see the deep set lines that age her face. Wrinkles collect in creases at the corners of her wide mouth as her squinting eyes well up. As clear tears spill from the pink corners of her eyes, wiping away grime and dust.
My free hand reaches towards her—reaches and stretches as I'm yanked back again.
Shanti.
The ground swallows her. The gnarled hands descend.
“Shanti!”
As the clouds part and I rip my arm away from Ran's grip. As I race towards the spot where she disappeared.
The black fades away to red, and I'm scooping handfuls of sand up and away. I'm digging for her as I collapse to my knees and sand's rubbing them raw as I dig. As tears form in my eyes and fall. Dropping to the sand. Staining it darker than it should be.
I dig. I dig and I dig as the clouds roll away and the sun presents itself. I dig and I dig.
And a long shadow covers me. Rolling over my place in the sand as my shoulders tremble.
The storm's gone, and Shanti did this. The storm's gone, and she sacrificed herself.
For me.
“Is she dead?” I swallow—staring at the red sand. “Where—
where did they take her?”
Behind me, Ran shifts. He has no answer and I do not pressure him to speak as I drop my palms into the grit. As my fingers curve around handfuls of sand and I shove myself up to standing. I dust the sand from my ragged skirts and hiss at the sharp pain this simple movement brings. Tiny cuts lash through the skin of my lower arms and neck—the tiny scars biting at me as I move.
When this is all over—then,
then
you'll have time to mourn. Until then…
and my throat constricts as I bite my lip—fighting back tears.
Until then, you need to find a way into the Void. You need to get your heart
back.
And I nod at the words. I blink away tears and turn to face Ran who waits patiently. His hands dig into the pockets of his trousers as he stares off into the horizon.
I need to keep going—for her.
And I walk past him—continuing on towards the Vale. Treading through the sand with my eyes on the blue of the horizon.
For all of my friends who have given their lives for me to get this far—for me to attain so much power—I need to keep going.
Ran shifts through the sand, his large strides overtaking me as he guides me towards the right—where the sandstorm came from.
For them all—I must
keep going.
…
Dark clouds begin to hang over our heads, and for a moment I think another sandstorm is on its way. But as a colossal head of stone rises above a low dune some miles away, the dark clouds break to reveal a slowly fading sky of light purple with bright orange undertones. The sun's setting as the entire head of the statue breaks through the surface of the red sand, its glassy eyes scanning the entirety of the desert as we walk.
“Ran,” I call and he nods his head beside me. “what
is
that?”
He hums beside me, murmuring beneath his breath before he opens his mouth to answer. “I'm not taking you to the Vale.” he admits matter-of-factly, his eyes on his feet. “Those things that took your friend?” he shakes his head now, sighing. “They're a myth. A Csillain tall tale. They aren't supposed to be
real—
but my Csillain friend, he warned me about them. And I'm a dumbass for not believing him. For not listening to his warnings.” He stops in the sand, then—trips and I stoop to try and catch him. But Ran's quicker than me. He's on his feet and moving before I can even register that he's back up and walking. I trip over myself to keep up—to listen to his voice as it goes dry. “It's my fault your friend died—I'm not letting them take you too.”
“You—,” I try. “—it's
not—,”
“—I'm taking you to Scion—like
he
would have.” and his amber eyes snap to me as my brow furrows. As I twist my lips and stop in the sand. “I'm taking you to where your kind
belongs.”
“But the Vale—the Void—
Shanti's plan!”
I think to turn back—to find my own way to the Vale. But this desert is
vast.
“You can't just make decisions
for
me!”
Ran stops too. Cocks his head and crosses his arms as he turns towards me. “Alright, well make your choice. We continue
that
way,” he points towards my left. Towards the dying horizon. “and we go to the Vale—find Selina City and
hope
Shanti's friend will help you do—
whatever.
Providing those sand wraiths don't get us first.
Or,”
his hand moves towards the colossal head of the statue rising above the darkening sands, “we go to Scion—get
help
with dealing with these things and maybe some provisions that'll last us awhile.” he recrosses his arms, tilts his head to the left as he frowns slightly. “Your choice, girl. Like you said—
I can't make the decisions—
but I know this desert better than you. I know what'll get us to Selina—even if it
does
require a detour. So?”
I look towards the head of the statue as clouds break above it. Violet skies rip a jagged road through the clouds above. My gaze finds our pathway to the Vale and my eyes rove over miles and miles of sand. It shifts like a sea. Like an unmerciful sea of gritty red.
What would Shanti do?
How much time do I have? I need my heart—but I also need my life.
What if those wraiths come
back?
And I shiver. I tremble at the feeling of sandpaper hands creeping up my leg.
Shanti called the storm and the wraiths away—then paid with her life to save us.
I cannot let her sacrifice be in vain. I cannot.
I relent. “And how long would it take? To get to Scion?”
“Two hours.” he tells me, turning away. “Maybe three.”
I nod, making my decision. I clench my fists at my sides and walk.
As the desert opens up for us, darkening sands shifting with the gentle pull of an evening wind.
A thunderclap booms in the distance as the rising face of the statue lights up. Bright orange makes it's face come alive as sharp yellows hang dancing shadows beneath its cavernous eyes.
When the smoke comes, we hardly notice it as night devours all in a lonesome darkness.
The arms of the statue open up as its torso rises from the sand. Each step brings us closer and closer to the giant overlooking the desert as the night sky above blinks with twinkling stars. Firelight dances upon the giant's rounded face, the light reaching from its torso as flame shadows wither and dance.
“Light keeps them away.” Ran mentions as a light wind buffets us. “Fire works good too.”
There's a gentle buzzing in my ears as we cross a low dune in the night. When we're at its peak, Ran stops. Surveys the open arms of a desert town that's bright with firelight.
White buildings rise from the sands like bulbs forcing themselves through ash. Though the desert has turned a bright shade of pitch, the colorful clay paved streets are awash in dancing light that grows from the center of the town. The buzzing becomes louder now, as it deepens into a chorused chant that's sung by a multitude of mismatched voices—all clashing against each other. All fighting to be heard among a sea of others as the voices resound around a fire. As the fire lights up the white walls of rectangular buildings and pastel colored markings staining the clay paved passageway. It is here that the giant takes her post, its monstrous torso of intricately carved stone rising as it opens its arms to welcome the world. From it's arms hang enormous shadows that surround the town. That hide dark iron gates made bright by the fire burning in the town's heart. Feminine features make up the giant's face, as a cosmic crown of stars dot her forehead. Sharp stone spires grow from the top of its head and reach towards the sky—cutting through the night clouds above as they swirl about the tip.
A haunting moan makes my body tense as I gasp. As my eyes move from the beauty of this small desert town, to a dangerous gathering of gray bodies thronging the town's entrance. High iron gates stand tall—closed to the creatures occupying its space as some wrap brittle hands around the bars and
pull.
The gate holds closed—but the chanting stops only to be sung louder as the monsters moan their response—a collective cry that's low and dreadful.
I slap my hands to my ears.
“Sand wraiths.” Ran hisses beside me as he plops down into the sand. Sitting. Watching. “We'll have to wait till morning.”
But I can't. I can't sit and wait and run any longer. I stay standing. I clench my fists at my sides and watch the wraiths assault the gate.
Do something—open your mouth. Maybe you haven't completely come into your power yet—but you can do this. You can
at
least
do this.
I take a step forward, sands waves shifting beneath the soles of my slippers as I approach the sloping face of the dune. A hand grabs my wrist.
“Unless you want to end up like your friend—,”
But I snatch my hand away—I continue my descent. I fall to my back and trip in the sand as I go sliding down the dune.
“The sun will burn them away!”
Ran hisses at me—but it's already too late.
A single gray head snaps towards me as the buzzing chant in my ears becomes a wailing roar. I shove myself up to standing as I watch the group of wraiths—their stench wafts by me as a breeze picks up sand from the west. Blowing by us—picking up the noise of the chant and forcing it eastward. The smell reminds me of Tsubame's kitchens—when I met Hue and become accustomed to the stench of the mess the cooks would carelessly leave behind. As more heads turn towards me, I remember the card old Vivek showed us. Of a skeleton donning human skin, wrinkled and dry and shriveled, as it held up a sword of sharp obsidian. A sliver of light reaches these ghouls as they moan—as they begin a slow shamble towards me. Shadows dance beneath their ribcages—as bones protrude out beneath their skin. They are gaunt. Haggard and starved as if the sands have taken every ounce of water from their bodies. Black caverns darken the sockets of their eyes as some open jawless mouths and moan—shambling towards me.
When I open my mouth—it is natural. When sand hisses behind me as Ran skids to the bottom of the dune, the creatures gain leverage in the sand and sprint towards me. Charging with screeching cries as they scream at me. As they howl at the starlit sky and race for me as I open my arms and sing.
Sing like everything depended on this moment.
Because it did.
My voice is carried through the night on a smooth wind that dashes through the desert—blowing my hair to my side as I close my eyes. As sand is kicked up behind me and I feel Ran's presence. The beasts are moaning louder now—trying to drown out my voice as I sing to them. As I entrance them in a lullaby that forces the sands to open up before them—to swallow them as it swallowed my friend. As it swallowed my Shanti.
