THE JEALOUSY OF JALICE

The waking world came upon Jalice like a mirage. Awareness of her surroundings settled slowly, and for a while she was unsure of where the memory ended and reality began. When her mind calmed enough for coherent thought to return, she sat curled with knees to chest while tears streamed down her face.

Although free of the lucid chain that’d trapped her to the memories, her thoughts continued to circle in her mind. An itch on her arm shook her from the spell. She scratched to relieve the discomfort, and her fingers brushed a rough object from her skin that fell to the floor. She peered over the cot’s side and noticed a black pebble. She squinted.

Not a pebble. A leech.

She recoiled and scratched harder at the parasite’s bite. Her mind swayed back to the visions that lingered from her caged time in the memories.

Annilasia woke much later. She jolted from her sleep. Hushed words left her lips—stray mumblings about a book and running from something. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths and her eyes darted wildly until she recognized her surroundings. She spotted Jalice and moved to stand, but instead slumped against the wall before growing still again.

Jalice worried she’d fainted, then sighed with relief upon realizing Annilasia had simply fallen back asleep.

Sunlight seeped in through the cracks of the boarded window. It was well past sunrise, maybe even noon. Rumblings and low voices filtered in from the other side of the door. Jalice grew anxious that soon Mygo or Vowt would come knocking. She didn’t want to speak to anyone. Her goal was to quell her churning thoughts, and the stress of strange men wouldn’t make that any easier. She was grateful that whoever was moving and talking in the other room didn’t disturb her in the end.

Jalice sat in silence. Flashes of memories continued to bombard her, and obscure voices from the scenes echoed in her head.

Seeing her brother again had left her unsettled. She’d forgotten the details of his face and how insecure he’d been around others. Growing up, she’d found him annoying, but his death tasted bitter in her soul as she sat quietly in the bunker room. She wished that Kerothan still lived. Yet as she attempted to recall other moments with him from her past, nothing beyond the newly recalled moments at the Black House formed for her.

Dwelling on her brother led her back to Hydrim. He’d seemed . . . different in the memories. Witnessing him before his reign as Sachem proved how time had altered his physique and demeanor. Anytime he’d interacted with Kerothan, a light had danced in his eyes—one that she hadn’t seen in quite some time. Ruling over the tribes and fighting off the Delirium had cost him his good nature. Somehow, he’d retained his affection for her though. He’d remained a good husband.

What do you most desire, bonebag?

Jalice shivered. Her unspoken answer to that question formed in her mind as it had all those years ago, and she dared to wonder how the creature had known her innermost secrets.

You desire to bind your aura with his, but he’s enraptured with another. I can make him yours.

Jalice squeezed her arms tighter around her knees, burying her face. She wanted to forget everything about that encounter. Yet something about it seemed incomplete, and she worried over her inability to recall anything else about the House or its captive. Pieces of the puzzle were missing, and a war between an instinct to banish the ordeal and a need to solve it waged inside her.

She glanced over at Annilasia, who stirred in her sleep and muttered again about a book. It dawned on Jalice that Annilasia had mentioned the Black House before. The tillishu had even suggested a connection between it and some vile deed in Jalice’s past. A familiar uncertainty flooded Jalice as she permitted herself to wonder if Annilasia’s accusations might hold some validity.

She moaned as her head throbbed. Surely the Sachem was innocent in all this. He’d saved the land from the Delirium. He’d provided Jalice with the utmost care and attention. She simply couldn’t recall an instance that justified Annilasia’s foul disposition towards the man.

But the tillishu had been right about the Black House existing. She’d been right about the Ikaul warriors.

Annilasia moaned and sat up abruptly.

“Where is it?” she questioned. Her tired eyes frantically surveyed the room. “Where is it hiding?”

“I don’t understand,” muttered Jalice.

Annilasia frowned, shook her head, and rubbed at her temples. Jalice thought she heard her whisper again about a book.

“What time is it?” asked the tillishu.

“I don’t know,” said Jalice, peeved at the irritating questions. “Late noon perhaps. I haven’t been outside.”

Annilasia sighed and leaned forward, folding her arms over her knees. “I can’t believe I slept that long. And with no dreams. Why didn’t you try to wake me?”

“I did,” said Jalice. “But you were as dead as bones. I’m fairly certain you did indeed dream. Kept muttering in your sleep about something chasing you, and the need to read some book.”

A dark look crossed over Annilasia’s face. “A passing nightmare perhaps. It’s all fog now.”

A peculiar aspect in her tone rubbed Jalice wrong, but she didn’t press. She had her own disturbing dreams to deal with. Her stomach growled and she winced.

“Have you not eaten?” asked Annilasia.

Jalice shook her head. She craved sustenance, but emotional distress had overwhelmed her physical discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” The warrior’s stern tone failed to soothe Jalice’s nerves.

“Something . . . happened,” said Jalice as she trembled. “Terrible dreams. I saw you. Twice. As you are now, and from when you were younger.”

Annilasia squinted at her. “You’re not making sense.”

Jalice cringed. “You’ve been going on about a place called the Black House. I didn’t listen before, but now . . .”

Annilasia focused intently on the chieftess. “What did you see? In your dreams, I mean.”

Jalice glanced away from her expectant gaze. “Tell me about the Black House. What is it?”

“It was something we found as children,” Annilasia answered slowly. “I was only there once, but you confessed to returning. With Hydrim.”

Jalice closed her eyes, dread sinking in like teeth. She hadn’t seen anything of a return to that place, but it explained the sense of fragmentation in her memories.

“My head is pounding,” she whined. “Trying to recall these memories is only making it worse.”

“Have you seen anything since you woke up?” asked Annilasia. “Or was it just while you were sleeping?”

“Nothing since waking.”

Annilasia got to her feet and ran a hand through her hair as she silently contemplated Jalice’s response. “Let’s find something to eat,” she said finally. “I wonder if our gracious host has something for us. I suppose a bath would be too much to ask. Stars know that woodsman could use one.”

“You reek too,” Jalice muttered.

Jalice followed Annilasia to the door and waited as the tillishu unbarred it. Upon opening it, they were met with the dim common room, visible under the slivers of light that slipped through the boarded windows. Annilasia stepped past the door frame, and Jalice came up behind her.

Vowt, who had been sitting in a chair and hunched over a collection of vials and canisters, sprang to his feet and clapped his hands excitedly. “You’re up, you’re up, you’re up!”

He darted to grab a platter from a nearby table before approaching the two women. When his slanted grey eyes met Jalice’s gaze, he glanced away in nervousness. A drab apron flocked his chest and legs, the thick leather hide smudged and streaked with various dried elements. Spectacles with translucent blue lenses protruded like odd antlers from the tufts of blond hair atop his head.

“I put—put some food together.” His speech shifted excitedly as he spoke, with some words drawn out while others were quick and stuttered. “I hope—hope you like it.”

He held the platter out until Annilasia took it from him, at which point he shuffled back a few steps while wringing his hands together.

“There’s blueberries and nutlugs,” he said. “Are you thirst—thirsty? I have clean water.”

“Yes, I’m parched,” said Jalice. “I could use some water, and I’m sure Annilasia could too.” She reached out and grabbed a honey bar of nuts as her stomach growled.

Vowt’s anxiety vanished and he gave an emphatic smile. He dashed to another part of the room, where he grabbed a large jug and proceeded to pour their drinks.

The bunker door groaned open. Mygo’s large silhouette stepped out of the blazing light from outside. He slammed the door and plunged them all back into a dingy atmosphere. Upon seeing the two women, his eyes narrowed.

“You’re finally up,” he grunted. “Wondered if you’d both keeled over dead in there.” Mygo focused on Annilasia, and an aggravated expression scrunched his face. “We need to talk.”

Jalice tensed at his rough tone, recalling the unnerving chamber from before her sleep that Mygo had unknowingly revealed to her—the chamber with the dissected flayer. She watched with mounting anxiety as Mygo stomped across the common area. He bent over and picked up a hefty book that lay atop the satchel Annilasia had been carrying.

“What are you doing with this?” he demanded.

Jalice regarded Annilasia in time to catch a strange look crossing over the warrior’s face. The look was so brief that Jalice wondered seconds later if she’d imagined it, and wasn’t quite sure if it was a result of recognition or irritation.

Annilasia matched Mygo’s glare. “Why did you go through my belongings?”

“I don’t play host to aethertwisters,” Mygo said sternly. “I suggest you give me a good answer as to why I shouldn’t throw you two out for the flayers to carve up.”

Silence charged the air. Jalice glanced between the two while she fiddled with her vow ring.

“Annilasia, why do you have that book?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“It’s no one’s concern why or how I got it,” Annilasia said, loud enough for all ears in the room. She clenched her jaw. “I assure you that it’s not mine. I want to be rid of the damn thing. But I swore to deliver it, and it’s not the kind of promise that’s wise to break.” She cocked her head at Mygo. “Since we’re interrogating, how’d you come across those rings on your fingers? Not the kind of jewelry you expect of a woodsman.”

Jalice looked at Mygo’s hands. Adorning his right were several shiny rings of varying complexions. Included among them was one with a ruby diamond. Another of them gloated a twirling band of red and green stones that glistened in the light.

Mygo scoffed. After a long, heavy moment, he swore violently under his breath and tossed the book back onto the satchel.

“If I find out either of you are mixed up in aethertwisting . . .” He paused. Rather than finishing his threat, he stormed off.

Annilasia shoved the food platter at Jalice and marched over to retrieve her belongings. Crossing back over to Jalice, she moved past the chieftess to disappear into their unofficial sleeping quarters.

Uncertain of how Annilasia’s behavior would be received, Jalice took the platter and avoided eye contact with both men as she rushed after the tillishu.

“Don’t close that door!” shouted Mygo.

Jalice jumped at the gruff command and nearly dropped the platter. She scampered into the room and laid the platter on the cot before she sat down. “Annilasia, what’s going on?” she asked. “Why do you have an aetherwielder book? Our host doesn’t seem pleased about it.”

“Like I told you before,” said Annilasia with a slight snarl, “it’s none of your concern.” She snatched the book and hid it back in the satchel.

Jalice gaped at Annilasia. She knew the warrior could be ill-tempered, but Annilasia’s response startled her. While the tillishu mumbled under her breath and dug through her satchel, Jalice noticed a tiny vial in the bag.

“What’s that?” she asked timidly.

“It’s hair dye,” said Annilasia. “To keep you safe.”

Jalice tilted her head. “Why would we need hair dye? I don’t understand.”

“We’ll use it to—” Annilasia gasped sharply and shot a hand to her shoulder. A dark grimace tightened her face.

Jalice stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

Annilasia shook her head, but Jalice didn’t miss the way her eyes slipped to the satchel.

“Your family is one of only a few that boast that eye-blinding hair color,” continued Annilasia as she ignored Jalice’s question. “With the Sachem’s warriors hunting you, it’s wise to hide your identity. Changing your hair will help with that.”

Jalice instinctively opened her mouth to protest, but a rush of vivid recollections overrode the urge. Annilasia had been right about the warriors who intended to harm her. If changing her hair color would ensure her safety, then she would do it. She nodded to Annilasia, who exited the room.

In the tillishu’s absence, Jalice crawled to the floor and sat cross-legged. Annilasia returned with a bowl of water and knelt behind her.

“Hold still,” demanded Annilasia.

Jalice gulped as she braced herself, skeptical over whether she’d receive the gentle touch she’d grown accustomed to at the hands of her talimai handmaids. The smell of earth and cinnamon tickled her nostrils. When Annilasia ran fingers through the hair, Jalice was surprised by the lack of rough handling she’d expected. Rather, the process felt relaxing and evoked Jalice’s childhood. She briefly reminisced on hair braiding amidst laughter and mindless chatter. Frustration and disagreements aside, the gentle application of water and dye soothed her nerves enough to brave a conversation she’d long avoided.

“If you’re right, what will we do?” Jalice asked softly.

She was surprised by her own words, unsure seconds before of the courage needed to speak them aloud. Now that she had, a small weight lifted.

“What do you mean?” asked Annilasia as she began to comb Jalice’s hair.

“I still don’t entirely trust you or believe what you’ve claimed. But . . .” Jalice paused to collect her thoughts. “But if you’re right to some extent about the Sachem, what’s your plan?”

Annilasia was quiet for a moment. “The Sachem needs to be stopped, and the Vekuuv need to be freed.”

Jalice squirmed, but then remembered she needed to stay still. “What would those tasks entail?”

There was an unspoken question in between those she’d asked—a question of what Annilasia planned for the Sachem. Jalice had little doubt the tillishu had discerned it, but wasn’t surprised by the vague response she received.

“There’s a lot that would need to happen,” said Annilasia. “The Apparition Realm is plagued with aetherwaste that needs to be purged. Our tribe needs to restore our land. The Tamers and Gardeners would need to reclaim their positions and resume work on terraforming what’s relapsed into wilderness.”

“But that doesn’t answer my question,” Jalice pressed. “Those are all things that would follow your plan’s success. I’m asking how you expect to succeed.”

“We can discuss that once you fully trust and believe me,” stated Annilasia. There was a hint of caution in her words. “Without that, it doesn’t matter how I plan on executing my tasks.”

Jalice mulled over the coy response. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to contemplate what Annilasia’s full answer might be.

“Then tell me more about the Black House,” said Jalice. “Maybe that will help me understand.”

Annilasia paused from scrubbing Jalice’s scalp, likely shocked at the posed request. “What do you remember of it?” she asked as she resumed the grooming.

“I think I remember . . .” Jalice’s voice trailed off. An image of the ominous structure solidified in her mind. Pain erupted in her head, provoking a reactive jerk and moan.

“You have to stay still,” said Annilasia as she straightened the chieftess’s head.

“I know,” Jalice snapped. “But thinking about it hurts.”

“In what way does it hurt?” Annilasia scoffed.

Jalice dismissed the question and instead forced herself through the memories she’d experienced during sleep. “We found it in an area of the woods. The whole forest around it had been toppled by its impact I think.” She pressed on even as the pain intensified. “I went inside and . . . found something. It frightened me, and I fled.” The memory faded into a haze, but another sharp sting through her head caused her to yelp.

Annilasia ceased combing Jalice’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

A slight movement caught Jalice’s attention. Her eyes grew wide at the changed scenery around her. “What’s happening? Where are we?”

“We’re inside the bunker. Jalice, what’s going on?”

“It’s happening again! Take me back!” She paused. “Wait. It’s not the Black House. It’s—” The panic lessened when she realized she was outside.

“Jalice, what are you seeing?”

Before Jalice could answer, another voice thundered around them.

“What’s happening?” Mygo demanded. “Are you hurting her?”

The bunker, along with any sign of Mygo, was nowhere in sight. Instead, the confines of the bunker had vanished, giving way to land that rolled into a valley where hundreds of tribespeople milled about and clustered together.

“It’s the Star Alignment Feast,” said Jalice in disbelief. A smile twitched on her lips. “We haven’t had one in so many years.”

She continued to hear Annilasia and Mygo speak for a moment, but she couldn’t see them. Soon, their voices became like whispers in the wind before fading entirely.