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A RIFT
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SAVARA’S STOMACH LET out a menacing growl. It might as well have been eating itself with the noise it made, but she didn’t register this growl—or the five others it made since leaving Griffin’s tent. Her mind was elsewhere, lost in the idea of the memory she’d seen but didn’t own. Staring at her hands, she wondered what exactly she had done, how she could repeat it, and whether she should.
The scent of food snapped her back to the present. It sauntered around her, leading her to a half-opened tent that buzzed with activity. As she pushed through the mesh door she was immediately assaulted by the most exotic and delectable smells to ever grace her nasal cavity.
All around, people laughed and drank as they shared some of the most tantalising meals Savara had ever seen or sniffed. As she pressed on, further into the tent, she spied the man and woman from Griffin’s tent, surrounded by a small group of people who seemed to be sharing in jokes.
“Sebastian,” called one of the men. “What do an Argia and a shot of bad whiskey have in common?”
Sebastian grinned. “They both burn all the way down,” he said winking at his friends. “Isn’t that right, Storm?”
“Not interested, Sebas,” Storm growled.
“Just wait, I’ve got a good one. Why can’t the Zerua stay in one place?” Storm scowled at him, but Sebastian paid no attention. “Because they’re always gone with the wind!” The entire table erupted with laughter but Storm was not impressed. When Sebastian finally noticed her unease, he tried to make amends by adding, “You can laugh too, Storm. It’s just a joke.”
Storm tossed an entire stein of whatever she’d been drinking on him. “You laugh, Sebastian,” she hissed, tossing the empty glass to the ground before storming past Savara and out of the tent. Once again, the table erupted at the sight of a dripping Sebastian. He was not amused. He smiled and promised them more jokes tomorrow, but worry lined his face as he breezed past everyone, including Savara, and out of the tent.
On a table off to one side, Jasper poured over a large leather-bound book—the one she’d taken from her uncle’s library—as he shovelled food into his mouth. His brown, mousy hair spilt in messy curls over the front of his glasses. Occasionally, he’d flick his head to move them, only for them to fall in the same place.
“Jasper,” Savara called, beaming at him.
Jasper almost dropped the book onto his plate out of shock, but his smile was as bright as ever when he caught sight of her. “Sav!” He jumped to his feet and pulled her in for a breath-restricting embrace. “I was worried about you.”
“I was more worried about you,” she replied in short breaths. Her stomach rumbled between them.
“You sound like you haven’t eaten in days,” he said with a laugh sending her off for food and demanding she not return without a three-course meal.
When she did return—plate piled high with multi-coloured meats and vibrant vegetables—she found him, nose deep in the book., eyes flitting quickly from one end of the page to the other, engulfed, entranced, and unaware of his surroundings.
A smile crept across her face as she remembered the many times he’d done this before. Those were easier days. Back then, he was just a boy with his books, and she, just a girl pretending magic existed. Her smile evaporated as the memories of her uncle’s stories surfaced, and images of Jasper facing off against people who might freeze him or burn him alive flooded her mind. Suddenly she wasn’t so hungry anymore.
Sliding into the bench and depriving her stomach of sustenance a few seconds more, Savara contemplated her friend and the effect this world was already beginning to have on him. His skin glowed a richer hue under the light of the Visanthian sun, and she noticed an air of excitement surrounded him. Maybe him being here isn’t all that bad, Savara concluded. Hesitating to make herself known again, she tucked in quietly, but the taste of the food woke her soul, making it impossible to stifle the “mmm” that arrived on her tongue.
“It’s good, eh?” Jasper grinned from over the edge of the book.
Savara laughed. “It’s like...”
“A hot bowl of granny’s lentil soup on a cold day?”
“Like jumping from the rocks at Windward beach.”
“Good one! Or what about coming home to a made bed after a twelve-hour shift.”
Jasper didn’t realise how right he was. More like coming home after years, Savara thought, unwilling to continue the comparisons. Shifting in her seat, she took another bite to hide her growing frown.
“You look good, Sav,” Jasper said as a blush crept under the bridge of his glasses. “Not like that... I mean... you always look good, but...” He exhaled defeatedly. “Rested. That’s what I meant.”
“Thanks,” she replied, but after her dizzying conversation with Griffin, she felt anything but. “What about you? I left you sleeping.” She took another bite and added, “What have you done all day?”
“I woke up not too long after you. I got worried when I didn’t see you, but then I met this guy who said you were out but safe and that I was safe and should get out. Nice guy. Few words but speaks volumes.”
“Brass.” Savara giggled, remembering her similar encounter with the curious medic.
“That’s the one. Anyway, he showed me around the camp, and we got to talking...”
Jasper recounted the conversation in detail, feeling that it was, thus far, the highlight of his day. He explained how he’d taken the book and the cane from the house, and how Brass had asked him about it when returning his things. Brass told him that not many people could read those books, that the old language had been out of use for centuries, and few could translate it.
“But I can,” he concluded, grinning vivaciously. “I cross-referenced it with a few other ancient languages, and I found some promising similarities. I think I can translate it.”
“Who would’ve thought...” Savara replied.
With the raucous in the background, there was little chance of being overheard, but Jasper leaned in as though he had the secret of the century to tell. “I know what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy but hear me out,” he whispered. “The book called to me, voice and all.”
Savara didn’t know what exactly things from this world could or couldn’t do, but if the knife in Griffin’s room was any measure, the idea of a book talking didn’t seem so far-fetched. That book was the last tangible memory of her uncle and their life together. Even if it had all been a fabrication, the time she spent there was real, and part of her missed it. Savara hadn’t realised she’d stopped eating, or that she’d taken to pushing sweet peas around her plate with the end of her fork.
“How are you doing?” Jasper asked, noticing her sudden change in mood.
“I’ve been trying not to think about it all day,” she admitted.
“You know, Sav, you’re allowed to feel sad. Hell, you’re allowed to bawl your eyes out if that’s what you want,” Jasper said as he reached for her hand. “You miss them, and it’s only human.”
But I’m not human, she remembered. Her fingers recoiled at his touch. “I’ll be fine...” she mumbled, but tears had already begun to lace her lower lashes.
“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Jasper assured her. “Talking might help—”
“Jasper, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, maybe we could take a walk in the forest instead. Take your mind off things, like old times.”
But nothing was like old times. A wave of anger she hadn’t realised she’d been suppressing burst from her. “No! Don’t you get it? I don’t want any of that!” It came out louder than she had expected. People had started to watch them. “I just...” She’d never yelled at him before and regretted it the moment she met his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Jasper let his words trail off as he removed his glasses to wipe the lenses. It was a façade; they were already clean. Savara sensed guilt rippling from him, but she was too shaken by her outburst to return the apology. “What did you do today?” he asked, attempting to change the subject.
“I met with Griffin,” she replied softly.
“Oh yeah, him...”
Jasper began rambling about his apprehension towards Griffin, how he’d gotten a bad feeling about him back at the house, but Savara had zoned out of the conversation. She dragged the fork through the remaining sauces on the plate, drawing spirals and circles, hoping their twists and turns would replace the whorls of anger inside her. At least it gave her an excuse not to look into those big brown eyes again and discover she was becoming someone unrecognizable.
Monster, an airy voice hissed. A cold chill ran up her spine as she glanced around the boisterous room. Nothing but stray glares met her alert eyes. Several things in the room could’ve made the sound, the sweep of the mesh door, the rustle of feet, or the flap of tablecloths. I’m imagining things, Savara thought, though not fully convinced.
“Sav?” Jasper stared at her, waiting for a response to whatever he’d been saying in the moment.
“Sorry... I... What did you say?”
Jasper sighed. “I asked if you got any answers.”
“Oh...” Savara blushed. “Well, Griffin seems to think I lived here until I was twelve, and that I was sent away for my own protection...” The word irritated her. What did she need to be protected from anyway? Savara also noticed how Jasper frowned each time she said Griffin’s name. Jasper wasn’t usually the kind of person to hate without cause, but for some reason, he’d taken an instant disliking to Griffin. “I mean, I guess the timing fits, it’s just...” She sighed. She was going to need a lot more answers before everything would start to make sense.
“What’s wrong, Sav?” Jasper urged. The worry in his voice made her feel worse. It was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.
She had never kept secrets from him, not once in all the time they’d known each other, but if she told him how troubled she’d been by everything—the deaths, the dreams, and now a possible threat to her life—he’d fight to take her back. But she couldn’t go back, not anymore. There was nothing waiting for her, whatever was looking for her had made sure of that.
“It’s nothing, Jasper. Besides, everything Griffin suspects is based on memories I don’t have. He wants to take me to the place I was born to see if anything clicks into place.”
“Is that what you want, Sav?”
Savara bit her lip. She didn’t necessarily want to unearth the ghosts of her past, but what choice did she have? The words poured from her in her frustration. “I’ve been living a lie, Jasper. I don’t know who or what I am, I don’t know where I came from, I don’t even know why I’m here now. I’ve just been following this stupid voice in my head, that I’m not even sure is mine, looking for answers that I don’t know if I’ll ever find, and,” she sniffled, feeling a fluster growing on her cheeks and heated tears welling in her eyes. “And I can’t go back. Not even if I wanted to.”
“Your life wasn’t all a lie, Sav,” he said, attempting to console her. “Your relationship with your uncle and Ms Short was real. Our friendship is real... I understand how you feel but—”
“How could you understand, Jasper?”
“I mean, I sympathize with you, Sav. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, and you have this habit of not thinking things all the way through before diving headfirst.”
“Is that what you think?” she replied irritably. “That I’m being careless?”
“I’m just saying, you like to get yourself into trouble because you don’t think things through. Besides, we don’t know anything about this world, and that asshole is pushing you right into the middle of all its problems.”
“It’s my world too, Jasper, and so are its problems.”
“As of when? Five minutes ago?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“It just sounds to me like he’s using you, Sav...”
“He’s helping me, Jasper, which is a lot more than I can say about you.”
“Why do you think I came here in the first place?” Jasper replied, raising his voice slightly. “This has nothing to do with me, and quite frankly—”
“You’re right, this has nothing to do with you.”
“Sav, that’s not fair. All I’ve ever wanted to do is be there for you, to help you.”
“I never asked for your help!” Savara shouted. The room quieted around them. “And I never asked you to come.” Before Jasper could reply, she got up from the table and stormed out of the tent, leaving him jaw-dropped and alone.
Help, a vicious little word. Everybody seemed to want to help, but Savara knew it wasn’t worth the cost. Her parents’ help got them killed, her uncle’s help got him skewered, poor Ms Short had no idea about any of this but ended up the same, and Jasper got himself trapped in a world that just might eat him alive. All of this because she had no idea who or what she was. Now more than ever she needed answers, if not to protect the last person she had any affection for, then because now more than ever she felt isolated and alone.
