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Chapter One
Ket Thompson had never been to quite so many funerals in such a rapid succession. For two weeks straight, he attended so many that he forgot who he was mourning for: nameless, faceless soldiers; men and women he met at his grandmother’s functions; volunteers he talked to at meals; distant relatives; friends; and the one Miringa he never thought he’d mourn for: William Birch III. Ket decided to show some respect and go to his funeral, and had almost been able to get through the whole thing without incident, but then the voice of William Birch II jarred in his ears:
“I lost a son for the Miringa cause,” he bragged. “Vote for me, and I’ll make sure no one loses a son to the Manumos ever again.”
Ket punched him then and there, right in the mouth. “No one else will die because of the Manumos, anyways!” he had screamed hysterically. “How can you use your own son’s death as campaign material? You sicken me!”
Ket lost four friends in the Manumo world: Henry Recro, Irving Salt, Bellona Grid, and Shasta Aguilar. Shasta had been found a few hours after Ket had been; she was barely breathing. The poor girl was rushed to the nearest Miringa hospital, where she died two days later.
The grief just blurred and meshed inside of him, forming a huge knot that settled right in the pit of his stomach. He returned to Winterberry Island after all the funerals were done, and almost broke down weeping when he saw that his adoptive mother, Kyara Larkin, was still alive and well. Better yet, she was expecting a fourth child. Ket had not even known about the third child, a girl named Katarine, who was two-months-old; his younger brother, Adriano, was now five-years-old, and his other sister, Vera, was two-years-old.
Ket spent much of his time doing nothing. He acquired a job as a fisher, which he was very good at, due to his aquatic nature, but quickly quit and gave up. Nothing felt right anymore; he could do nothing correct. He was always dissatisfied with his work.
Before Ket had left Renaruga, the world on the clouds, he had visited his mentor and friend, Sir Sahallo Jonat. It seemed as though, after Ket had proven himself on the battlefield to be a surely capable warrior, he was now allowed to call him “Sahallo”. It was never directly ordered or spoken, but understood between the pair of them.
Ket entered Sir Jonat’s office at the School for Higher Comprehension feeling somewhat tentative. He still did not know the full details of what had happened down in the Manumo world, and maybe he never would, but he wasn’t prepared for this.
“S-Sir!” gasped Ket when he entered, stopping in the doorway and gaping. Sir Jonat was in a wheelchair. “What happened?”
Sir Jonat looked up at Ket, his eyes determined but sad. “Mrs. Skye was attacked and knocked unconscious.”
“What was Jeri doing down there?” cried Ket, almost exploding with anger. “That’s so stupid…is she okay? What about the baby?”
Sir Jonat looked at his hands. “She…lost the baby. After she was knocked out, the Manumos began beating her, so I slew them and rescued her. I got her to the medic teams, but was attacked from behind. My…spine has been severely injured. I will never walk again.”
“But can’t you fly?” asked Ket, looking at him in horror. “You can’t be simply confined to that wheelchair…”
Sir Jonat looked over his shoulder at the bold, white wings, which were folded against his body. He chuckled wryly. “No, I can’t, actually. All of my nerves in my spinal column are just useless, or something like that. I didn’t really understand what the doctor said, except I’ll never be able to move around in anything but this wheelchair ever again.”
Ket stared. “I…I’m so sorry.”
The two spoke amicably for a while, about the past funerals (Sir Jonat had missed most of them because he had been in the hospital), his son’s campaign for a spot on the High Council, volunteers, the army, and speculating whether or not the army would be liquidated now that there was no need for it. After about half an hour, Ket decided it was time to leave. He stood up from the chair he was sitting in and shook Sir Jonat’s hand.
“You did well, Ket,” he commended solemnly. “I’m not sure what you did, but I know you proved yourself on the battlefield, and made us all very proud. Thank you, Ket.”
“Thank you too, S-Sahallo,” he muttered, glancing down at their clasped hands; cold shame was burning somewhere in his heart. He quickly released Sir Jonat’s hand, turned, and left the room.
And now, he lay on his bed, in Kyara’s house, on homey Winterberry Island, staring at the ceiling. He had thought about visiting Kekasmai Aner, maybe try to retract his previous statement, try to mend their relationship, but he knew he couldn’t. She had made her feelings very clear, and he had heard from Jadro Lackey, who heard from Dolores Cushing, who had heard from Kekasmai herself, that she was already being courted by someone else, a different boy who Ket didn’t know. Well, Ket certainly wasn’t going to spend his time moping and trying to win her back. He would remain stubborn….Still, he did miss her friendship, her company, and her kindness. He even missed her loud brashness: it was what made her her.
His door creaked open; Ket propped himself up on his elbows to see his five-year-old brother, Adriano, looking at him with his wide, innocent eyes.
“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, sounding both eager and tentative. For the first time in several weeks, Ket’s face broke into a smile, and he sat up in bed.
“Of course,” he replied genially, standing up from the bed. “Where do you want to go?”
“Momma doesn’t feel good, so c’we go to the beach?” suggested Adriano, smiling broadly. One of his front teeth was missing. “Whenever Momma said she felt bad, she would go to the beach and said the ocean made her feel good again. So we can take Momma and Verie and Kat to the beach!”
Ket and Kyara took the three children to the beach. Adriano would run ahead, but then fall back to take Katarine’s hand, who was holding onto Ket’s hand. Kyara was holding Vera in her arms. Adriano and Katarine played in the shallow water and in the sand, while Ket and Kyara stood by and watched. There was a long silence between the two, and Ket knew Kyara wanted to say something, but was seemed edgy on bringing it up. Finally, after a few minutes, she spoke.
“Ket…I was wondering…” She looked at him, and Ket was suddenly hit with a realization. When had she grown so small, so frail? Her face looked worn and drawn with worry. Her shoulders sloped down heavily, and she was slimmer than normal. And when had he grown so tall? It seemed like only seconds ago he had been at this very beach with Vsevolod Kadaveer, turning into his true form for the very first time; he had also witnessed Kyara’s display of magic for the first time here, and learned that Rukaron was Jeri Lackey’s son…so much had happened here, on this beach, it was almost symbolic.
“Did you hear me?”
Ket blinked out of his revelations. He had been staring at Kyara’s face, not drinking in a single word she said. “I—I’m sorry, Mother,” he muttered. “What did you say?”
“Two days ago, while you were out,” began Kyara, looking tentative and speaking hesitantly, “a man came to our house. Did you ever meet a, ah, a Dr. Reppun…?”
Ket nodded slowly. “Yes. He’s a psychologist from Compre.”
“A – what?”
“He studies the mind,” explained Ket quickly, always forgetting that humans were less advanced than Miringa. “He came by? What did he say?”
“He…he said he…he had moved to human land and, if you ever needed to see him, he’d be glad to accept you and work with you,” said Kyara, all in a breathless rush. “He lives in Haptriuch. You could take a boat there and reach it in two days, and he lives close to the shore, and he says it’s only a half an hour cart ride from the docks to his home.”
Ket looked away. He didn’t want to get into this kind of discussion.
“I think you should go,” pressed Kyara. “I know you won’t talk to me about what happened, but you could talk to him. He’s paid to listen to your problems, right?”
“Yes, he is,” replied Ket slowly. “I…I guess I’ll go. Where will I live? How will I get money?”
“I’ll initially give you money,” Kyara told him promptly. It was clear she had planned this out before bringing it up. “But I’m sure that you can find work, can’t you? You’re sixteen; people will hire you – ”
“Momma!” Adriano’s voice, fraught with fear, cut across Kyara’s words. Ket and Kyara whipped about to look at him; he was sopping wet, standing at the edge of the water, jumping up and down, pointing out to sea. A high-pitched scream burst through the air; a giant wave had crashed over Vera and Adriano, sweeping the young girl out to sea. Kyara gasped, momentarily rigid with shock.
‘Do something!’ thought Ket desperately, but then he remembered: Kyara couldn’t swim. She had never learned how, nor had she ever had the desire to. So, without giving it a second thought, Ket sprinted across the beach, kicking off his sandals as he raced, and dove into the water. Vera was not far away, but the little girl could not swim and was very small. She thrashed about, wailing in frightened anguish. He began kicking towards her, his powerful limbs cutting cleanly through the ocean waters. He was near to reaching her when a wave rolled over her head, and she didn’t resurface.
Ket had to act now: either turn Manumo and search for her underwater, or let his baby sister die. He thought it would be an obvious decision, but it took him a second to think about what to do. He took a deep breath and plunged under, whispering the spell words as he did: “Kig desanrazan ock o Manumo.”
And he changed. The odd, ugly mixture of Miringa and Manumo covered him, and he looked around wildly. Katarine was only a yard below him; he sped close to her, reaching out a hand and clasping it around her wrist. He pushed towards the surface, speaking the spell to return to human form, thrusting Katarine’s head above the surface, staying below until he was certain he had changed back. He swam back to shore, Katarine coughing in his arms, and carried her back to Kyara and Adriano.
“Kat Kat Kat!” wailed Adriano, jumping up and down excitedly. “Kat! Is she okay? Kat?”
“She’s fine,” panted Ket, gently letting her down to her feet. Katarine dashed to Kyara, hugging her leg fiercely, shivering as a gentle wind swept over them, chilling their wet clothes.
“Ket, you…” Kyara looked at him, but he held up a hand. He didn’t want her words of thanks. It would only serve as a reminder as to how he hesitated.
“I’ll go,” he told her, changing the subject quickly. “I’ll go to Haptriuch, I’ll visit Dr. Reppun. I’ll take the therapy sessions.”
Kyara nodded soundlessly, but Ket could tell: she was relieved. And, even though he would never admit it, so was he. If he didn’t talk, he would never get over what he had done.
