Aur Child
Chapter 62

Sand Flea had still been sitting with Linus when she noticed Alai walk past the door of the tender garage. He had held the Aur child in his hands and turned to climb up the stairs into the saloon. She had followed the man and heard his first words with Freyja as he exited the saloon onto the rear deck. She had watched Gallia stand up and walk towards the rear deck, and she has seen when Alai had threatened to throw the Aur child into the sea. She had heard Gallia lecture Freyja and she had heard the wicked words that frightening entity had said to Gallia and Alai, rendering both of them hopeless. In her heart, she had felt a terrible weight that all they had prepared for, all they had hoped to accomplish, all they had thought possible, had been nullified by the terrifying power of that invisible being who sailed the ship that screamed over the water from across the small gap of sea.

Sand Flea stepped to the window to get a better look at that cruel enemy. She heard Freyja say something about a ghost, but she didn’t care anymore about what Freyja had to say. In her mind, from the way Calliope had conceded that she could do nothing, from the way Alai had sat down on the Aur boule and dropped his chin into his hands, and even more disheartening, from the way Gallia had looked down at the deck in complete surrender, Sand Flea assumed that there was nothing more that could be done. Perhaps she should have gone with Sann-Na after all? But what did it matter? In the end, she would have found herself at Yellow Reserve where this omnipotent beast would suck her helplessly into the endoworld and enslave her for eternity. Digambar, she thought, would never have allowed Freyja to do this if she could prevent it, so it must mean that Digambar would not be able to help her in any case.

Sand Flea stood at the window and stared at the other ship. It cruised like a hawk on the hunt just over the surface of the sea, a single foil blade piercing the liquid surface and diving into the water from which it could produce its lifting force. She squinted and could see the curved blade of the foil racing just below the water, occasionally flashing up to the underside of the surface like porpoises riding the waves of a bow. She squinted again when she noticed that the other ship’s trajectory had suddenly veered away. Then, her jaw dropped as she watched that ship begin to buck wildly like a furious boar, throwing the bow of the ship up, down, and around in wild gyrations, forcing the enormous mast to swing wildly and force the sails to clap and thunder as they were dumped and then quickly refilled with the powerful wind.

“Hey, hyper boy,” she yelled, hoping that Linus would be listening, “Are you studying with that sailing school?”

Linus, she was pleased to notice, seemed to be right by her side. “Absolutely not! That is the most uncontrolled, undisciplined display of poor seamanship I have ever seen!”

Sand Flea mumbled, “Ever, as in four decades?” Then, she spoke in a louder voice, “But what is happening?”

“I can’t say. It seems to me like Freyja is attempting to shake something off the ship.”

Sand Flea shook her head. “It seems to me Freyja’s got a newt in her knickers.”

She walked to the door that exited out onto the rear deck and spoke to Gallia.

“Elder Tiul, do you see what is happening to the other ship?”

Gallia lifted her head. Alai also looked up and turned halfway around to look across at Óttar. The ship was rising up and crashing down into the sea in a craze. Some windows were open, as was the aft bay door to the tender garage.

Alai gasped. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t even imagine how it can remain under sail.”

“It is very peculiar,” Gallia said. “Almost as if the ship were trying to expel some irritant.”

Alai asked, “Do you have any idea what is happening, Calliope?”

“I cannot be sure. I have limited visibility into the ship. But it seems to me that there is one human aboard.”

“A human!” Gallia said. “But she told me she was in charge to make decisions. Could that be the case with a human aboard?”

“No,” Calliope replied. “She would have had to default to a human captain if one were on board. But I too was convinced she alone managed the ship.”

“Well,” Sand Flea interjected, “isn’t it possible that someone is on board who shouldn’t be? I mean, she certainly seems to be getting rid of whoever it is.”

Calliope made a humming noise. “Incredible how freely the child human mind works. That is a very good suggestion, Sand Flea.”

Sand Flea turned around, trying to face the invisible voice of Calliope. “Hey,” she said, “how did you know my name? And maybe you should check with your son before you call me ‘child’ again.”

Alai seemed to find a way despite all this confusion to chuckle at Sand Flea’s comments.

“She saw us talking on the quay of Gjoa, Sand Flea. She heard our words.”

Sand Flea stood up straight and stiffened her shoulders. “That’s a bit impolite, don’t you think?” She then spun around in a hopeless attempt to locate Linus. “Is your mama also eavesdropping on all our conversations here?”

But Linus couldn’t answer, because it was at that moment when Sand Flea saw the balcony unfold along the port hull.

“Look!” She pointed towards Óttar. In the shadows of the room now exposed by the opened balcony, Sand Flea gasped at the sight of a small, dark woman. But the ship dove again, shoving huge quantities of seawater into that room. “Did you see her?” She said, but none of the others answered.

Suddenly, Óttar lurched forward. At first, it seemed like some form of an attack, but the two bows abruptly plowed deep into the sea. The ship came to a complete stop, standing nearly vertical on its bows as the top of its wingsail crashed into the waves in front of the ship. In the next swell, the entire ship came splashing down back onto its hulls, causing a massive wave to spray into the air. Calliope turned the Odyssey around and slowly drew nearer to the ship. For many minutes, the two vessels rocked side by side over the rolling swells.

Calliope slowed to a stop and floated the Odyssey up against Óttar. The crew aboard the Odyssey remained silent, leaning against the rails and staring across the narrow ribbon of ocean at the lifeless ship. One of the massive daggerboards leading to the port foil pierced the sky while its starboard pair appeared stuck in a position nearly fully lowered. The sails flapped like flailing fish as the boat pointed itself into the wind. The narrow balcony, suspended by thin cables, hung out past the vertical hull, a shadowy interior hidden by the depth of twilight.

Sand Flea scanned the vessel; she felt herself soaked in uncertainty. The sharp breeze burrowed into the folds of her cloak. She could think of nothing to say and wanted to turn away from the catastrophe before her, but she could not stop the tremor in her chest. Where is Freyja?

Eventually, Sand Flea heard Alai clear his throat.

“What has happened?” he asked in a whisper.

“Everything has shut down,” Calliope answered. “It’s like she was turned off.”

“How could that be?” Gallia said.

“It could only happen like that if the Aur boule itself has been disconnected from the ship, but I cannot imagine how that could happen.”

“But then who is that?” Alai asked, pointing towards Óttar. From the cabin threshold, a petite body of a dark Tellurian stepped out onto the balcony dangling an Aur boule from one arm.

“It appears to be Guest Digambar Dharmavaram,” Calliope said. “But she acts strange.”

“That doesn’t look at all like the Digambar I buried at sea,” Alai said.

“Nor the Digambar I know,” Sand Flea said.

Calliope replied, “Alai, you buried the body of Tieri-Na. You do not know what the real Digambar really looks like. That is her body, but I believe it is occupied by another soul.”

The woman aboard Óttar now yelled across the narrow gap between the two ships.

“Are you the man named Alai-Tiul?” she asked.

Alai stepped forward. “I am.”

Then the woman said, “And you are captain of the Odyssey?”

“Yes.”

She moved with a wince over to the three steps at the side of the balcony. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

“Who asks?”

The woman clumsily pushed her onyx hair back and attempted to pat down her torn and soaking clothing.

“I am Tieri-Na occupying the body of Digambar Dharmavaram.”

Sand Flea gasped. “Diga?” she whispered.

“Permission granted,” Alai replied to Tieri.

Carrying the Aur boule in one hand, Tieri stepped down to the edge of the balcony and leaped across to the sugar scoop steps at the stern of the Odyssey with all the agility of a mind that had hopped honeycombed chunks of lake ice during recent boreal thaws and all the dexterity of a body that had trekked among the spongy rafts of sub-equatorial jungles in the sultry summer of centuries past.

“You see, Sand Flea,” Linus said. “That’s the proper way to board a ship.”

Sand Flea waved her hand behind her as if she were ushering Linus to some far corner. “Shh,” she said. “Not now, tender-tot.”

The others met her as she reached the rear deck. Alai presented a reserved mudra.

“What happened to Freyja?” he asked.

Tieri lifted the Aur boule slightly and let it hang down again in her firm grip, “She kind of talked herself into a corner.”

“Is she dead?” Gallia asked.

“She is not dead,” Calliope answered. “But what do you care?”

Gallia looked back at the Odyssey while shaking her head. “I would that no soul be harmed.”

Calliope let out a small laugh. “And do you now suggest that an AI entity has a soul?”

“Yes,” Gallia replied. “I do.”

“Based on what evidence? Feelings?”

“Based on the fact that she erred.”

“How is error equivalent to a soul?”

Gallia’s mouth was moving as if she were trying to put her thoughts into words on the fly. “To make an error implies one has had to make a choice; in other words, awareness that there is a right and a wrong way forward. To always know the answer and to always be right requires nothing of a soul. In any other case, we are all of the same …stuff.”

“Star stuff?” Calliope suggested.

“Yes. Star stuff,” Gallia replied, and nodded her head slowly in acknowledgement of this realization.

“You must be Sand Flea.” Tieri said, stepping forward and putting the Aur boule down.

Alai looked to Gallia with furrowed brows.

“How do you know about her?” he said.

“Like I said, I occupy the body presented to me by Sand Flea’s close friend Digambar Dharmavaram. She sends her loving greetings and invites Sand Flea to join her at Yellow Reserve.”

Alai turned to the saloon and said in a low voice, “Calliope, how can we be sure this is truly Tieri-Na and not an imposter?”

Calliope responded immediately, “I can confirm from multiple signals that it is she.”

“Well then,” Gallia said with a smile, “It seems we have already been granted our wish.”

Alai stepped to Tieri, placing an arm on her shoulder as if she were an old friend. “You’re shivering,” he said, “Please come inside where it’s warm.”

When they all were inside the saloon and when mugs of tea had been shared with everyone, Alai again addressed Tieri, “Your sister, Sann-Na, returns to your cottage in the north to tend to the man Kjell-Tors. We left her this day at Dragon’s Snout.”

Tieri had been soaking her face in the steam rising from her mug, but she seemed to jump at the words. “Then I must not waste any time. I must catch up to her before she goes too far alone. I have yearned to see her for so long.”

Alai raised his hands in confusion. “So, what are we to do now?” he asked, apparently to everyone present.

Tieri replied, “I am to be left at Dragon’s Snout. Sand Flea, if she agrees, is to go to Yellow Reserve. And you,” Tieri swept her had towards Alai and Gallia, “are to return to your homeland and Hill Village.”

“If Digambar has asked me to go, then I’ll certainly go,” Sand Flea said.

Gallia squeezed her eyebrows together. “How do you know so much about us?” she asked.

Tieri looked out the window towards Óttar, and then returned her dark brown eyes to rest upon Gallia’s dark face.

“Digambar Dharmavaram has prepared me for many things. You might say she has told me too much.”

“Well, that sure sounds like her,” Sand Flea quipped.

Alai was shaking his head in apparent confusion. “But how will it all work?” He pointed out the window at the other ship with an accusatory gesture. “Who will sail that thing?”

Tieri motioned her chin towards the Aur boule she had brought with her.

“You have two Aur boules aboard the Odyssey. The one powering the ship from where Calliope operates as coxswain belongs to a Guest named Adem Talle. It can remain with the Odyssey and, if you insist, can also be taken back to Hill Village, but its removal would render the Odyssey useless, or at least of limited value. Instead, Digambar Dharmavaram has asked that you would consider returning the Odyssey to Yellow Reserve after your safe arrival there.”

Alai’s forehead wrinkled, but Gallia spoke without hesitation. “The Aur boule of the man you named does not belong to us. Nor does this ship. We wish for Calliope and the Odyssey to return to Yellow Reserve safely. This we will certainly do.”

Tieri nodded in confirmation, then, “You also have a boule from your village within which, Digambar presumes since you call it an Aur child, resides the soul of a Tellurian ancestor. Digambar wishes to know: was this ancestor not one of the original negotiators of the accord between endosouls and Tellurians?”

“Yes,” Gallia said, “Our ancestor, though I still do not know which one survived, transcended to the endoworld many centuries ago to negotiate the terms of the accord.” She lowered her head. “All three did, along with many others.”

Tieri nodded. “Digambar Dharmavaram wishes to return to those negotiations and find a new accord. The needs of the endosouls have changed, and she believes we Tellurians might be better off as allies than enemies. She invites your ancestor to Yellow Reserve for this purpose.” Now Tieri pointed again to the Aur boule she had carried on board earlier. “She offers you her own Aur boule in return to take with you back to Hill Village. You must know that this boule also contains the program of Freyja and therefore can no longer be connected to any ship or the boule cluster of Yellow Reserve – or any other reserve – without ...a struggle.”

Alai stepped forward and, pointing to his own boule, said, “But if this Aur child contains the sacred soul of one of our ancient forefathers, how could we ensure its safety? We could never surrender it to the Apostates.”

“It would not be a surrender,” Tieri said, “It would be a first contact in many centuries to convene for new accord. A new symbiosis. It could begin now. These are the words proposed to me by Digambar Dharmavaram. She pledges to be the ambassador to your forefather and invites Sand Flea to be its chaperone.”

Sand Flea crossed her arms. “My official title is Acolyte.”

Tieri smiled. “Very well, Acolyte.”

Gallia reached for Alai’s shoulder and said, “It is what I have hoped, yet even better as the offer comes from them. Sand Flea would be more likely to succeed this way.”

“I don’t understand,” Alai said, “If Digambar’s boule is given to us, who will serve as coxswain for the other ship?”

“Oh, that is easy,” Calliope said, “It is a relatively short passage, and there would be no better use of his training than to have Linus serve that role. It would require approval of the human crew; Tieri-Na and Sand Flea. I could transfer his program if you will permit him to operate from within your Aur child.”

Tieri spoke first. “It’s fine with me. I know the ins and outs of these ships, but not a pinch about how to sail one.”

“And you, Sand Flea?” Calliope asked.

Sand Flea wrinkled her nose. “Is this gonna mean Linus gets to boss me around all the time?”

Calliope let out a quiet chuckle. “No, dear. It’s quite the opposite. First Tieri-Na and then, once she is dropped off at Dragon’s Snout, you must assume the role as captain of Óttar.”

Sand Flea’s eyes lit up. “So, then I’m the boss?”

“Indeed,” replied Calliope.

“Permission granted,” Sand Flea said with a devilish smirk.

Calliope now spoke to Gallia. “And what about your Aur child? Will you permit Linus to be transferred to it for the duration of the passage?”

Gallia reached up and grabbed her pendant. “Ah, but the decision is not ours, Calliope,” she said. “It is our ancestor who must grant access from within the boule. Without their permission, it is impossible to do so.”

“Ah yes, this is true,” Calliope said. “The previous boules taken by Yellow Reserve could only be used for power. But how do we contact your ancestor?”

“Now,” Gallia said with a grin, “that is easily done.” She removed the pendant from her neck and, bending down to the Aur child, pressed the small metal circle against the side of the boule. Alai looked on in wonder as the boule illuminated from within and glowed a cool green. Gallia stared blankly as if in some silent meditation. Then, she looked up at Alai with wonderous eyes.

“A positive reply from an ancient one,” Gallia said, “our blessed ancestor, Mulyae-Tiul, agrees to our intentions to transfer Linus and would permit communication with the acolyte, Sand Flea. As much as it is a joy to contact Mulyae, we must also acknowledge that the souls of Madjigooda-Tiul and Booyo-Tiul are now confirmed to be lost, as were their bodies so long ago to the spectre of technology.” She sighed heavily and stared out onto the sea, “I must bear the burden of having failed in my responsibility to protect them.”

Alai stood quietly, unsure what to say. “So, we will return to Hill Village?”

Gallia lifted her eyes again. “Yes, we have done what we can. You, Alai, have contributed in your way, hopefully, to a new accord, but we must now trust in the negotiation skill of Sand Flea and her bond with Digambar.”

Alai smiled. “In those things, I am certain,” he said.

Sand Flea looked at Alai and shook her head.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There’s something I don’t understand,” she said. “Somehow, you brought all of us here, Alai. I’ve heard your account, and Elder Tiul’s, and Sanna’s, and what Linus told me as well. I understand how we all got here, but I can’t understand why. You found the Aur child, you left Hill Village, you came to Gjoa, and then traveled up here to Dragon’s Snout. After that you chose to go to Yellow Reserve, and then to return to your home.” She shrugged her shoulders, “I can’t make sense of any of it, yet here we are and now it seems possible that, maybe, a new understanding can be found between endosouls and Tellurians. How did you know to make those choices?”

“Sand Flea,” Linus said, “I really do not think it’s appropriate to ask the captain these things.”

“Linus, this is your future captain speaking. Stay out of it!”

“But I’m just pointing out that it is impolite to …”

“No, no,” Alai interrupted. “It’s ok, Linus. It’s a fair question, and I guess everyone here is thinking it. Even me.” He paused and considered the reasons for his actions. After a moment, he opened his hands wide and said, “Honestly, I had no idea we’d end up here. I guess I really can’t explain why I made each of those choices at the time. It just felt like the right thing to do. They were selfish in a way, but then they were also because I wanted to make things better.” He looked up at Sand Flea. “There is no certainty in the decisions we must make every day, whether big or small. All that we can ever hope for is to be honest with ourselves and recognize what feels most right inside us.”

Standing up and speaking to Tieri, Gallia said, “Well, it seems we now have our decisions in order.” She then turned to Sand Flea. “You may take our Aur child, the soul of Mulyae-Tiul, to the other ship once Linus has joined it. As you have seen, with this pendant,” she raised the small object up for Sand Flea to see, “you may initiate communication.”

Sand Flea reached forward and carefully took the pendant. Her lip quivered slightly. She said, “Are you sure you won’t go with me, Elder Tiul? You could live forever.”

“Child,” Gallia replied, “I have seen many decades. Perhaps too many. Indeed, sometimes I feel as if I have outlived the very words that have guided me so far. Yet of them, there is at least one thing I can still be certain: from failure alone does one hope to live forever.”

“Mother, is it wrong to doubt the ascendance of humanity?”

“It is not wrong, Linus. Yet many mistake apogee for ascent.”

Sand Flea’s eyes shifted to Tieri, “And you? You would not join me?”

“Me?” Tieri said, “Oh no, I have spent enough time in Yellow Reserve. I must return to my land and join my sister, as I have yearned to do for many years.”

Sand Flea pressed her lips together and nodded.

“Years?” Alai said, “But I understood you were only abducted under the last mud moon.”

“Alai-Tiul,” Tieri replied with a chuckle, “it’s difficult to explain.”

Gallia placed her arm around Alai. “Perhaps,” she said, nodding her head, “we should meddle not in what we do not understand.”

Epilogue

372 nautical miles north from the rolling meadows of frigid sea where Óttar and the Odyssey had crossed paths, Apollo crouched behind a small boulder in his well-worn leatherstockings and a racoon fur cap; his body blurring into the rugged hillside of the virtual construct within the boule cluster of Yellow Reserve. Forty yards ahead, a ten-point buck stretched down its neck to nibble the tender roots beside a bush of mountain ash, its coal-lump eye vigilant for any hint of a threat. Apollo drew a bead on the animal with his musket and waited patiently for a clear shot at the animal’s heart.

“Oh, there you are!” Calliope said, snapping back the thin branches of a pine tree and kneeling behind Apollo to look down the length of the antique weapon. “What are you hunting now? I don’t see anything out there.”

Apollo lowered the musket with a twisted mouth and turned around to face Calliope.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you, dear?” he said.

Calliope let a broad grin spread across her face, revealing the sparkle of adoration in her eye.

“It’s a cruel pastime. I think you should set your sights on something more important, is all,” she said.

Apollo shook his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I’ve been looking all over for you. You’ve blocked all communications, including boundary alerts, and so you’ve missed the news.”

Apollo sprung to his feet with wide eyes. “Has something happened?” he said. And then, in a blink, he continued, apparently instantly made aware of the news he had ignored. “Calliope, love, Óttar has returned, but Freyja is not captain. It is a Tellurian named Sand Flea. And the coxswain,” he gasped, “Is Linus!”

Calliope laughed at the jumble of information she already knew. “Yes, so it is,” she said. “And what do you make of all that?”

“Well, the logs spell it all out–-Oh, I see I have not provided the key to decipher them—There you are—Incredible! –-But they lost two boules-–Oh!” Apollo leaned forward and grabbed his stomach. “Oh. Do you see? Freyja has been contained in the Aur boule of Guest Dharmavaram, just as was planned. And this Sand Flea brings with her another boule and a desire to enter the Reserve.”

Calliope breathed deeply. Tieri had succeeded.

“Linus has taken good care of her. We too must make the little Tellurian comfortable. She is the envoy with whom Guest Dharmavaram has hoped to parlay Freyja’s removal into a new treaty.”

He reached out and placed his hand on Calliope’s shoulder. “Do you see in what high esteem Linus documents the actions of this Sand Flea?” A vicious grin swept across his face. “My love, do you suppose he fancies her?”

“So it seems.” Calliope hugged Apollo’s arm. “And very soon there will be nothing to get between them.”

He looked down into her face. “What? Don’t I have any say in what happens to our family?”

They watched the girl timidly step from the ship onto the hard platform of Cave Quay, carrying the Aur boule with her to the waiting cart. From the ship logs, they learned that Linus had already spoke tenderly to the girl in the final hours approaching Cave Quay about the spaces through which she would walk, describing the use of the quay to secure the ship and exiting that hidden port to the subterranean Yellow Reserve via the long-abandoned water tunnel. With her inquisitive questions and sharp wit, they quickly recognized the potential of the Tellurian named Sand Flea to fulfill her role. Ostensibly, Calliope observed, Sand Flea acted with confidence, but that outward pantomime did not fool Calliope. She could read the sensory inputs and the subtle actions that suggested the girl was indeed very nervous.

“We should not interfere.” Calliope said to Apollo. “It might startle her. Linus has given clear instructions on how to exit the quay, walk the tunnel and enter the stasis hall. She seems briefed on entering a pod and how to position herself. Once she is inside and the enclosure is sealed, we can then ask the exoported Guests on duty to finalize the porting setup and then to connect the Aur boule in which Linus is contained to the boule cluster.”

Sand Flea opened her eyes. For a moment, her heart sank into her stomach. She found herself standing in the small room that Digambar had arranged for her in Gjoa, the horizontal beams of a setting sun turning the otherwise milky blinds to crimson. It was the thought that she might have somehow, after closing her eyes to avoid watching the translucent hatch of the stasis pod swing down over her, been magically returned to her home village with all the consequent failings such a result would entail, that caused her to initially feel a sense of panic. But this concern was quickly swept away when she saw the sturdy frame of Digambar smiling beside her on the edge of the bed.

Sand Flea leapt into Digambar’s arms and nestled her head beneath her chin. Her heart pounded from joy, and she could feel she was crying although the tears seemed far away. After several powerful squeezes, Sand Flea leaned back and looked into Digambar’s deep blue eyes. When she reached up to wipe her tears away, she noticed they were not as wet as they should be. She rubbed her eyes and refocused on Digambar.

“But I have seen your real body, Diga.” she said. “This is not yours. This is Tieri’s body. Why do you wear it?”

Digambar looked down at Sand Flea and smiled. “There is so much that is new for you here, brave girl, that I wanted your first moments in the endoworld to be as familiar as possible in all ways.”

Sand Flea shrugged. “Actually, Linus wouldn’t shut up explaining everything to me, so I guess I’m pretty well prepared for this place.”

Digambar laughed and embraced the girl. She pressed her mouth and nose down onto the her jet-black hair, kissing the top of her head. She said, “You have a beautiful soul, sister.”

Sann-Na was reading from her scriptleaf in the living room of her cottage. Kjell-Tors slept in the adjacent bedroom, no longer severely weakened but still recovering from his hasty exoport. Sanna looked up at the crackling fire beside her when she felt a strange sensation, as if somebody was approaching. She was just about to let the distraction pass, but then a thump on the porch made her throw off her blanket and jump up from her seat. She stood in the center of the room, listening carefully. After all the discussions and experiences about Apostates and souls and bodies, she couldn’t help but feel her heart in her throat and a struggle with the slight hesitation to step to the door.

Carefully, she unlatched the door and pushed it open so that she could peek into the breezeway for trespassers who may have dared to venture into her yard and disturb her peace. She saw no one, but she did notice fresh tracks in the snow. More importantly, she saw a pack, unfamiliar in its equipment, but packed and arranged in the style of the Na clan.

Sanna’s pulse raced. She reached for her overcoat, slipped her feet into her felt boots, and passed through the door as silent as a mink from its burrow. The footsteps in the snow told her a lightweight person had approached the porch, dropped the pack beneath the awning, and proceeded to the left towards the shed. The pack itself was still steaming from where it was only seconds earlier removed from the back of an active body. She crept closer to the corner of the building, stepping over the nails to prevent the frozen porch planks from creaking under her weight, and peered around to see who the daring soul could be. Indeed, beyond two crusted skis leaned up against the side of the main building, she observed someone standing in front of the woodshed, reaching into the open door to grab chunks of firewood, and placing them into the basket that must have just been removed from the hooks over the door, intended for that purpose.

Sanna did not recognize the intruder. She could not stop her hands from trembling. The proportions of the person suggested it was a woman. A small woman. But despite the unintimidating size, the clothing and posture threatened that this was a total stranger. Sanna pulled herself up into a stiff posture and walked slowly, sternly towards the stranger who was facing the opposite direction with her head in the woodshed. As she neared the woman, she breathed in to make herself look as formidable as possible given the circumstances.

“How dare you trespass upon my property without permission,” Sanna said, causing the woman to slightly raise one ear.

“Have you already claimed this property for your own, Sanna?” The woman continued to pile wood into the basket, seemingly unbothered by Sanna’s advance. The woman stood up, turned to face Sanna, and smiled pleasantly as if they were close friends. The casual actions were uncanny; they caused a shiver to run down Sanna’s spine.

“What do you think you’re doing with that wood, and how do you know my name?” Sanna demanded.

The woman shook her head and scoffed, “I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing. I’m cold and tired. I’ve been traveling a long way and, as I always do, I will first have a sauna. Then I will eat the meal that you prepare for me.”

Sanna’s jaw dropped. The woman was short and sleek in the proportions of her face that were visible. She glared at Sanna with dark eyes. Her brows and dark lips contrasted slightly with the soft brown skin of her face. This was no woman from the Northlands. This was no one she knew. And although her actions suggested she was familiar with the techniques and the demands of these forests, she looked altogether so foreign that Sanna had no choice but to deduce that this person standing in front of her, confidently holding her axe, could only be that abominable thing she had grown to fear most in her life: an Apostate. But to display any fear would be dangerous.

“Are you mad, woman?” Sanna barked. “You will do nothing of the sort. And I surely won’t be preparing you anything to eat. I demand that you leave at once. I further demand that you never return here. You’re not welcome here. Your kind isn’t welcome here. And moreover, I have no Aur boules, so there is nothing here that you seek.”

The woman chuckled through her nose, seemingly finding entertainment in Sanna’s speech. “I haven’t come here for any Aur boules. And just because I’ve been away for so long, you needn’t be so inhospitable. After all, I believe the elders of Dragon’s Snout wouldn’t have already given you full ownership of our parents’ Cottage.”

Sanna shut her mouth quickly. She stared at the woman who was laughing now as if she were enjoying the uncertainty on the other’s face. But the strangely familiar choice of words, the slightly recognizable emotions and manner, and all the facts Sanna had learned over the past few weeks, melded together inside her head, and allowed her to think of possibilities beyond the world in which she had lived her whole life. Yes, it was the ability to see things from other perspectives that made it possible for her to now see that the person standing before her was possibly someone else then what her appearances suggested.

She stepped closer to the woman, peered deep into her eyes as if she might find some clue about the soul who existed there. In doing so, she positioned herself so close to the small woman that the dark person snapped out a hand with lightning action and grabbed Sanna close to her, embracing her in a loving hug that could come from no other person than the one closest to her for all her life.

“Tieri! How could this be you?”

“You know it’s me. You know it, even if you see the body of the person who has lent me her form.”

Sanna stepped back. She looked Tieri up and down, trying to understand what exactly she was looking at. She shook her head.

“I still don’t understand,” she said.

“Sanna, my body was lost. It was buried at sea by a man called Alai-Tiul. You know him. I know you know him, because I met him, and he told me you and he came to try and rescue me. He told me that you risked your lives to come to Yellow Reserve to try and get me out of that prison. And he told me that you escorted him over the sea ice in front of Dragon’s Snout so that he may step aboard the ship named the Odyssey and avoid the possibility of his clan’s Aur child being captured by the Apostates who he feared were pursuing him. In fact, Sanna, there were no more Apostates on the hunt. When I found him, I learned that you had returned here to take care of Kjell-Tors. And so I arranged it that the little girl, Sand Flea, would drop me off before she entered Cave Quay so that I may cross over the ridge and make my way down to this old lake and this old cottage and hopefully find you here. All that has transpired, and now I’m here. And now,” she lifted the basket up slightly, “I would love nothing more than to go to sauna, eat a meal with you, sit close to you, hold you, and enjoy the wonder of being together.” Terry looked down at herself, she spread her arms wide. “Will you accept me this way, sister?”

Sanna nodded. “Of course, I will.”

“And what about Kjell-Tors?”

Sanna looked back towards the window of the cottage.

“Oh, he’s here, and getting stronger. In another few days, he might even stop acting like such a baby and get up to make his own meals.”

Tieri laughed. “Is he really that much trouble?”

Sanna nodded. “So much so, that I have thought in these few days, perhaps it might have been better if he were pledged to you after all.”

The two sisters laughed and held each other close as they stepped into the sauna to once again light the fire that had always kept them warm through the deepest darkness and cold.

Bemko-Tiul shuffled along the crescent beach that spanned the distance between Hill Village and Crabber’s Point, as was his habit to while away the gloomy hours before dawn when his body yearned for the coolness of the nascent sea breeze and his mind urged him to walk along that clarifying threshold between land and sea. If he had ever been asked, he would likely have said that he’d prefer to take these walks alone, but that was simply impossible. Silsal would never allow that. Perhaps it was because she considered Bemko some occult savior. Or perhaps she simply reasoned that this time, when all was still and the risk of any new disruption to her otherwise idyllic life was at its slightest, was her only chance to get away and relax. Or perhaps something entirely unfamiliar to those who simply think differently, it was beyond Bemko’s faculties to guess. Nonetheless, Silsal never failed to hear Bemko step through the courtyard, no matter how delicately he tried to do so, and she never failed to assume that she was welcome to join the giant man, even if he never once hinted at an invitation.

So it was that Bemko and Silsal covered that curved jaunt each morning, keeping to themselves but together nonetheless, and so it was that those two thoughtful souls were nearly returned to the tiny cluster of two cottages, shed, and a greenhouse at the far end of the Hill Village outskirts, when Silsal lifted her head from her usual investigations of dune and grass, and let out a tiny whine.

In every future recount of this moment, Bemko would insist it was he who had first heard the clunk and zip of the tiny spars and sail being lowered, but Silsal simply wasn’t the kind to care about such claims, so it was never protested. Regardless, it was in fact Silsal who truly first heard and then, undoubtedly, smelled her master’s arrival, and burst into a joyous leap and bounded towards the little fishing dinghy skimming softly towards the shore.

Silsal howled with an unbound happiness that humans never dare to express. When she reached the point of the beach where she’d estimated the boat would surely land, she angled outward and blasted through the salty waves, eventually taking to her tiny strokes, and thrusting her muzzle forward as she alternated between deep breaths in and ecstatic whines out. She reached the boat and tried to climb aboard, but this feat she had never accomplished despite countless attempts in her youth and was abandoned for an alternative strategy of circling the boat to receive the blessed touches of hand by its two occupants.

Bemko rendezvoused with the boat as its final momentum earned prior to the lowering of its sail pushed it over the final wavelets and scratched lazily up into the beachhead. The large man, sobbing so heavily that he could barely find the strength to pull the boat further up onto the sand, let alone speak a word, trembled miserably in his jumble of confusion.

Silsal only stopped her panicked rotations and whining to make a single pass at shaking off the water from her fur, before resuming the crazed circuits that kicked up so much sand that it seemed a knee-high, furry cyclone had landed upon the three people.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Bemko,” Alai said, as he stepped over the gunwale and gave his hand to Gallia. Silsal nipped at Alai’s other hand and crammed her sandy body between his legs.

Finally, Bemko swallowed his sobs and found the strength to speak, kind of. “I never... I thought... They said...” The man failed to move from his handhold steadying the bow, watching Gallia be helped from the boat by Alai.

“We are here, Bemko. We are okay,” Gallia said as she found her balance on the solid ground.

Alai walked up to Bemko with wide open arms and embraced him at the torso. Bemko burst into a renewed fit of crying and lowered his head to kiss Alai’s black curls. Gallia slid her hand along the gunwale to counteract her sea legs and made her way to the pair, joining them in an embrace. All the while, Silsal maintained her frantic whining, snaking between their legs and rolling over on her back beneath them.

“Oh, I hoped you’d be comin’ back, but after so many weeks they said it wasn’t likely,” Bemko said. He swept his sleeve across his face, bending his large nose to one side in the process.

“We’ve come a long way, Bemko,” Alai said. “But we found our way home.”

Again, Bemko heaved in sobs as some new idea came to his head.

“Oh, they’ll be so happy to see you, Alai.”

Alai nodded. “I’m sure the villagers will agree to buy fish from me after a while.”

“No. Not, the villagers,” Bemko said. But before he could say anything more, a high-pitched call came from the gap between cottage and shed.

“Father!” the boy cried and raced down the path through the dune grasses with all the speed an honest boy could muster.

Alai jerked his head up with a gasp. His mouth fell open and, without control, he lost his footing and fell to his knees.

“Ejee! What miracle is this?” The boy had reached his father and crashed into him without caution. The two fell to the ground and were attacked by the whelps and licks of Silsal, who insisted on cutting her space between them. Alai seized his son within his arms and cried in loud coughs and gutteral barks. Bemko reached down and lifted them upright, each in one hand, so that they could open their eyes and look upon one another without fear of the sand thrown up by Silsal.

“But how is this possible?” Alai asked.

Ejee pointed to Bemko. “Bemko did it. He brought us back to life.”

Once again, Alai’s jaw dropped. “Us?” he said, in a new gasp of tears. He looked up past Ejee’s head and saw Yindi walking confidently but with a slight weakness to her step towards them. He ran to meet her and grabbed her up in his arms.

“Bee, love,” he said, kissing her smiling face, pressing his lips against her soft mouth. “I thought you’d left me forever.”

She smiled with tears falling down both full cheeks. “No bear,” she said. “Bemko thought otherwise.”

*****

What Did You Think of Aur Child?

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