Diamondsong 01: Escape Read online

  The newt appeared to shrug, so Dime decided she’d go with that, repeating “Juni” with a smile. Juni clicked and chortled, shuffling around to caress Dime’s back. Dime was certainly not resolved to all this ungranted touching, but she could concede Juni acted as though it was all completely normal. Dime tried not to overreact.

  That said, it was hard to stay calm as Juni oohed and aahed over Dime’s exposed back. Dime liked to keep her back covered, as a large feathery tattoo swept across the breadth of it and onto one shoulder, concealing large scars that she’d had as long as she could remember. Something to do with her birth, Da-da had said. She could now add to them what was sure to be a whopping scar on her arm.

  “Ok, that’s enough,” Dime said with a shudder. “And they aren’t feathers, as you can see. Just feathery tattoos. Which feels a little awkward with you here. So. Do you have my clothes?” With her uninjured arm, Dime patted around her body. “My clothes?”

  Juni puzzled over this a bit, then grinned, dipping back into her burrow and returning with a heap of fabric.

  After Juni’s efforts to undress Dime for cleaning, what was left of her soft velour work clothes was too torn and tattered to be worn, even as a drape. At least she’d have a pillow, once she washed it all out. For some shred of modesty, Dime slipped on her jacket with its pouches, then pulled the clean-ish piece of cut fabric from its loop and made herself an awkward, well, thong. It was better than nothing. Dime tried to ignore the gleam of her protruding hips in the nightlight and the sparkle of her pendant against her mostly bare chest.

  “I’m glad you don’t have mirrors here,” Dime said to Juni. “I’m sure I look like a Ba-ji dancer!” With a grimace, Dime added, “Ok, not quite. It was in theory. They are really great, if you ever get the chance.”

  Juni cocked her head, seeming distressed by Dime’s words. Though she’d thought of it more as talking to herself, Dime considered how left out she’d feel if someone made a joke she didn’t understand. Dime resolved to stick to ideas familiar to the newt, just in case Juni could glean intent from her tone and gestures.

  To avoid stressing her right arm, and thinking the newts probably weren’t as particular about which arm was used for which gestures, she placed her left fingers over her heart. “Thank you, Juni, for saving me.”

  She wished she had something to give the newt, then remembered the berries in her pouch. Juni’s eyes sprung open as she saw Dime’s hand fumble with the latch. “You know what’s in here, don’t you?” The newt had ample opportunity to have taken the berries, and she had not.

  An unsettled feeling grew in Dime’s gut, as she imagined all the scores of Ja-lal ch’pyrsi being taught to fear and avoid these creatures. This one, at least, seemed compassionate and warm, if a bit intimate.

  Juni clicked and jumped in circles before extending her arms as if to pick Dime back up. As hungry as she was, Dime left the hackberries alone for the moment and leaned in toward Juni’s grasp. At least that was almost like permission. Juni swept her back up and carried her off. The newt broke into a run, and Dime pushed back her nerves, at least feeling secure in the newt’s strong grasp.

  They ran past a dozen or two burrows and toward a flat area under a large rocky overhang, where Dime could see several shapes emerging in the darkness.

  A group of newts gathered under the ledge, ceasing all activity as she and Juni approached. In the dim light, it was hard to make them out exactly, but Dime peered and gleaned as much as she could.

  Shapes dotted the wide gathering area, perhaps mud and sticks to form seating places. Sticks leaned against the side facing the beach, roughly interwoven with twigs. She supposed that served to block the winds she’d felt coming from over the large water surface. From Sha. There was no fire, or any traces of one. The air smelled salty, but clean, lacking the musty smells of the forest, the dusty air of the plains, or the mixed odors of Lodon.

  The beach was quiet, without the rustling of plants or scurrying of small animals. Only the waves rose up onto the beach like a slow pulse.

  Like Juni, the other newts were all much larger than pyrsi. They stared at her with large, dark eyes, set atop a strong, squarish bone structure centered by a small nose. Their wide mouths bore a range of expressions, not all of which Dime knew how to interpret. Juni sat her down on the edge of the gathering.

  The newts’ scaly limbs shone in the nightlight, from their mid-biceps down to their pronounced claws, long and pointy like the spikes of a toothcar. Long feathers surrounded their bare, pale faces and covered their shoulders, chests, and backs. With the others mostly dark in color, Juni’s white feathers stood out among them.

  If Dime could gauge age, for without darkening skin she had to go on more subtle elements like facial wrinkles and posture, Juni seemed to be among their youngest. And, as if reacting to a curious ch’pyr in Dime’s own city, the elders did not look so pleased at what she had brought. Dime hoped she could help the young newt out.

  “Thank you,” Dime said, taking the effort this time to raise her casted arm, as best she could, to her heart. She tapped the mud cast with her other arm. “You saved my life.”

  Dime could make no sense of the chorus of arguments that erupted. Her eyes were drawn, as Juni’s seemed to be also, to the oldest of the group. The creature’s eyes were stern, unyielding. Dime had met pyrsi like this before. And Dime knew not to underestimate them.

  Crawling toward Stern Eyes, as she’d subconsciously nicknamed the female newt, Dime detached the pouch laden with berries, opening it and dumping them onto the ground, in between the gathered newts. Seeing what she had done, the others hushed. Dime clipped the empty pouch back onto her jacket.

  Stern Eyes nodded. Then, as if unable to contain herself, the elder rolled the berries across the sand, surveying them. She let a quick howl, yet no newts approached. Soon, others in the camp, or village—Dime wasn’t sure what to call it—joined them, and only then did everyone rush for the pile.

  Juni nudged her forward, and Dime again tried not to get spun up about all the pushing and touching. Reaching for the berries, Dime hungrily ate what seemed like a reasonable share. The newts ate the seeds, but Dime wasn’t going to risk that. Teeth didn’t get stronger with age, she’d learned the hard way a couple times already. Dime hoped they’d forgive her as she spat the small pits off to the side. No one seemed to mind or even notice.

  It was obvious that there was no feast awaiting her here. No fire, no warm table laden with mashed roots or savory stew. The newts appeared to be as starving as Dime was, though not just over the last turn, as was Dime’s case. “You’re hungry,” Dime whispered to Juni, patting her own stomach.

  Juni growled and raced off. Perhaps she had understood that just fine. When Juni returned, she held in her hand a fragment of ropes, a small piece of the massive netting Dime had encountered in the forest. The way she held it was like poison, and her face reflected the same.

  Then the netting was for the newts . . . to keep them out of the forest, perhaps? Maybe Juni had been trying to find a way through. She did have that spirit of a young agent about her. Of discovery and justice. To Dime, it was familiar.

  Yet, she had not taken Dime’s berries when certainly she must have found them. It rang of honor, of fairness. Dime felt guilty assessing them this way, passing judgment on their traits as though judgment were hers to assign. Just bells ago, she still believed newts to be dangerous animals, in league with the fairies. Yet, the fairies had tried to capture her, and—

  Dime yelped as Juni lifted her jacket from behind, showing Stern Eyes her exposed back. “Hey!” Dime exclaimed, spinning around. “No!” She stopped at the alarmed look in the older newt’s eyes. Stern Eyes spoke to Dime with quiet intensity, yet Dime could not understand any of the sounds. Dime raised her arm in confusion, and Stern Eyes stopped, seeming to understand. Or, to understand that Dime did not.

  Stern Eyes grab
bed the fragment of net, slamming it onto the sand. Like kneading the toughest seitan into a dein, she slammed it down, again and again, pointing to Dime. “Yes, the fairies,” Dime confirmed. “They tried to capture me.” Dime made a flying motion, like wings, miming pursuit. Then she reenacted her own feelings, making a face of fear and motioning as though she were trying to get away.

  Grabbing a loose stick, she traced a picture of the mountains into the sand, and the towers rising at their base. Of Lodon. And pointed to herself. “Ja-lal,” she said. She tapped the sketch of tiny Lodon. “Lodon.” And back to herself. “Ja-lal.”

  Several of the beings pulled back their lips and screeched, in what Dime read as a form of laughter. Stern Eyes silenced them with a gesture and a glare. Or mostly, as a few tsks lingered. Stern Eyes snapped something at Juni. Dime wondered if it was the newt equivalent of, “see me later.” Dime wondered what she’d said that hadn’t translated, but she kept her mouth shut for the moment, not wanting to exacerbate whatever had transpired between the newts.

  As if to apologize, Juni jumped to Dime’s side, licking the side of Dime’s leg in careful swatches. Dime winced at the rough surface against her cuts.

  “Oh! It’s ok,” she said, giving Juni a look she hoped read as gratitude. But the licking was not going to be a part of their continued relationship. Maybe reading Dime’s lean to the side, for Dime hoped she wasn’t smelling her emotions or something, Juni stood back up.

  With another look at Stern Eyes, Juni swept Dime into her arms—of course without permission—and raced off across the sandy reaches of this place Dime had not known to exist, leaving behind them an intense chatter from the gathered newts.

  First, they ran to the water. Awed by what seemed an endless span of blackness painted with fluffy white ripples, Dime thought she’d never pry her eyes away. Juni tipped Dime down toward the edge of the shiny surface, enabling her to take a drink.

  Dime tasted the water, remembering that Sha’s water was supposed to contain more minerals than that from the mountains and the rain. Spitting and gasping, Dime recoiled, unable to drink the salty, strong water, which pinched at her throat and constricted her breathing.

  No other communication was necessary as Juni seemed to realize Dime’s dilemma. She uttered a series of animated clicks before setting Dime down in the sand. Digging her claws into the ground, she leaned in for a long drink, the strong water not bothering the large, feathery newt. Juni paused in silence, as if in reverence to the water itself, and then shook the excess water from her lips.

  With a few more clicking sounds, Juni scooped Dime from the sand, and off they raced again. This time they ran a long way, Dime continuing to wonder how such broad expanses of barren land could exist outside of Ja-lal knowledge and how the newts could survive here. If she ever got back home, she wanted to find a way to help.

  But Dime was in no state to help anyone, she thought with a laugh, as she had no idea where she even was, couldn’t leave, and still had no idea why she’d been pursued in the first place.

  “What a mess,” she muttered. Juni responded with something that sounded like understanding.

  Even in the darkness, Dime could see the terrain becoming rougher and shrubbier as they ran. After what felt like a few takes, they started uphill, and the silhouettes of tall trees emerged into view.

  Juni didn’t slow down much as she reached the trees. Dime, only slightly embarrassed, snuggled into her chest in fear of the branches and grasses whipping by.

  They stopped so suddenly that Dime was convinced for a stride she would fly out like a fairy. With relief to still be in Juni’s steady grip, she was lowered next to a small puddle. Though it appeared clean, she tried not to think about the unfiltered water as she cupped her hand in and drank. She stared at the small puddle, not enough for a village.

  Dime pointed up into the trees. “Fo-ror?” she asked. The newt’s feathers poofed out on both sides. “I’m sorry,” Dime corrected. “I didn’t mean to upset you. They’re keeping you away, aren’t they?” Odd, they seem to want me just fine.

  Juni ran several paces away and began scratching her claws downward with great speed and force, throwing up a spray of dirt until there was a sizable hole. Dime scooted back, curious. Then, the newt stuck her head in the hole. And stayed there. Now, Dime had no idea what to do in this situation, but she tried to imagine her own hurt, having been touched only once by the Fo-ror, and not living with family who starved for seasons on end. She visualized the large net. She wondered how close they were to it now.

  Scooting over, Dime reached out toward Juni’s large shape. With caution, for she’d been raised not to touch animals unless they approached her, she rested a hand on the newt’s broad back. Sensing no discomfort, she began to stroke the long, soft feathers back into place. It wasn’t too long before Juni’s feathers settled back, and she lifted her face from the hole. “I’m sorry,” Dime offered. “You explore this place, don’t you? For food? Maybe for a way through?”

  Her expression for a moment taking on the hard quality of Stern Eyes’ own, Juni motioned up the hill, making a terse sound that Dime was certain meant the Fo-ror. She tried to remember the sound.

  With an occasional grunt or click, Juni took to sniffing around the area where Dime sat, digging around with her long, sleek talons. Thinking of the hole Juni had made so quickly, Dime considered why they didn’t dig under the net. They seemed accustomed to burrowing, though she hadn’t seen them tunnel.

  Several trees away, Juni tugged on a long stalk until a tapered root popped out. She moved to eat it but instead offered it out to Dime. Unsure of the protocol, Dime rubbed it with her hands to remove the loose dirt and then took a bite. She’d prefer it cooked, but it had a sweet and mild taste she enjoyed. She handed the rest back to Juni, who crunched it down, stalk and all, in one big bite.

  Oh! Dime detached the pouch that had held the berries. She opened it and held it steady as Juni poked and sniffed the fabric. Juni hesitated, so Dime set the pouch down and mimed pulling a root and putting it in the bag. It took Juni a bit to understand, but Dime stayed patient, repeating the motions. With a squeal, Juni snatched the pouch away and ran off, not returning until it was bulging with the pointy root.

  Dime wasn’t too upset—just this once—when Juni ran her rough tongue up the side of Dime’s face. “Ok, ok,” she scolded, chuckling. “That’s enough.”

  Dime rested dozens of time over the next two turns, her battered body craving the additional sleep. Juni tended to her like a nurse: carrying her to wash in the water or relieve herself, and then back to the burrow when there was a wind.

  As Sol’s light had first illuminated her surroundings upon the arrival of day, Dime took in not just the unusual landscape, but the colors that had not shown themselves to her in the dark.

  The newts’ colors were her first surprise. Their faces were a light lavender rather than gray, complementing the dark shades of their scales. With some variations, and a few of those stark, like her friend’s collar of white, the newts bore long, regal feathers that ranged from brown or tan to the richest shades of purple, some even tinged with hints of orange, yellow, or red. Their palette struck her as lusher and more elegant than any Lodon mural. A few wove dried leaves or vines across their chests, though none with as much flair as Juni’s shoulder sprigs.

  The next surprise was the love that went into what she had presumed to be simple animal burrows. Each was constructed differently, some with patterns of bark and sticks forming the entrance, as elegant in their context as the structural towers of Lodon.

  Inside the front of each, where light streamed in during the daytime, trinkets were stuck into the packed mud walls. Juni’s trinkets were especially eclectic. Dried leaves, patterns of juniper berries, fragments of glass, colorful water-worn stones. She even wove in fragments of fabric—light airy fabrics that Dime could only suppose had been torn from fairy gar
ments as they walked, or she supposed, flew, through the prickly trees.

  Juni was as interesting as her burrow. Dime had finally set boundaries about the licking, and Juni had seemed to at least learn to live with the offense. Yet, she had no concern with carrying the wounded fe’pyr around. And so Dime, feeling a bit odd in the big feathery youth’s arms but enjoying the changes in scenery, let the newt carry her around their sandy beaches, in and out of the other newts’ burrows, and sometimes as far as the outer edge of the forest.

  Some of the newts avoided her, and others became friends. One male even taught her a game. It was mostly pushing a stick around, and Dime wasn’t sure who won any particular match, but it made the newts laugh and also passed the time.

  The dark nights were illuminated only by the skystones and their faint reflection off the water, but it did not lessen the newts’ activity. Unused to being in the darkness without lamps, Dime was glad that her eyes continued to adjust and that she could get by well enough. Still, she was glad each time daylight returned.

  The bells rolled on this way in a relative state of calm, though of course there were no literal bells here, which was a calming though disorienting change. In all the time she now had, her thoughts gravitated back to her family—and of course to the traumatic and surreal circumstances that had led her away from them.

  Still, even in the calm of sitting and watching the waves travel, she could not fathom any reason why she was here. She’d spent her whole life knowing vaguely that the Fo-ror existed, but in such a distant context that they were in a different reality, if in reality at all. Characters in a story. There were moments when she wondered if she could have gone on an IC mission, been injured, and now was suffering a loss of memory. She’d read two books with that same plot.

  Except this explanation was the furthest from the truth. She had nothing but memory on the subject. The rough touch of the fairy, the stunning luminescence of xyr wings unfurling, the pain in Dime’s chest as her breath pumped too hard as she tried to escape, and the dust in her dry mouth as she rode across the plains.