Callista counted at least three different minor gangs among their rescuers, judging by the shirts and bandanas they were sporting. The weapons on their belts were not nearly so worrying as the powers they could wield. Still, if they were a potential enemy of the Maria, she needed to find out what she could about their deadly abilities.
So she accepted Vom’s invitation to have a drink with him.
‘In the deserts, we are born knowing we can touch the sands but it is only through asking for and gaining the Desine’s permission that are we able to use the Magic,’ Vom explained, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the noise belting out of the speakers. ‘Some of the really powerful ones become priests and help their tribes in battle.’
Sandsa was flicking through various songs over at the DJ booth, pretending that he wasn’t listening, but Callista was well aware of his focus on the conversation.
If you won’t give me answers, I’ll have to seek them elsewhere, she sent to him, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
‘What sort of powers do you have?’ Callista asked Vom.
Vom leaned across the counter to thrust his glass beneath a dispenser. ‘We can make sand move, to trip our enemies, or to throw up a cloud of it to hide ourselves. Sometimes we don’t even need to be near sand to call some of it into our hands.’ He tossed back his drink, burped, then continued, ‘And we can sense the Desine. All of our powers come from him. He’s the source of them.’
An ache seeded itself within Callista’s skull then spread outwards which each throb of the music’s bass. ‘The Chippers don’t need to ask permission. Their powers — sensing lifesigns, making forcefields out of energy — come from their chip.’
‘The chip just makes it possible for them to pull it from in here instead of from a god,’ Vom told her, tapping his temple. ‘The Chippers say they can feel the Creator God. I don’t need fancy tech to feel the Desine.’
‘What does he feel like?’
Vom rested his glass against his lips. ‘Immense, raw power. Stark me, it’s almost frightening. He suggests paths for us to walk and does not punish us for straying, unless it hurts folk — then he gets ’em good. Never kills them though, just makes ’em regret their actions.’
Callista leaned back on the bar, watching Sandsa as he shouted something at a Zatzat clansperson who had managed to climb up onto the booth to request a song. The beat became more hasty, more pounding. She closed her eyes, pushing away the distractions, focusing…feeling. There was nothing out there, no bright splotch on her mindscape. No god. She flicked a stray thought at the bar, then heard the crash of a glass and the surprised yelp of the person who had been holding it. The ripples of power flowed from within her.
So I’m like a Chipper, I pull it from inside myself, Callista thought, then frowned.
‘You know Sandsa will be too busy to work here,’ she said out loud. ‘Most gangs usually operate at night. You might be better off turning this into a dayclub.’
‘A dayclub.’ Vom stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. ‘Well, that’s not a stupid idea, Dancer. Nowhere near as stupid as joining a gang that’s so set on pissing off the Alcazaar.’
Callista reached for the warming glass of pink liquid on the counter and took a small sip. It was sweeter than coffein and not as strong as something Ala would have favoured. She swiftly knocked it back then wiped her hand over her mouth. ‘The Alcazaar won’t stop going after us. We have to retaliate.’
‘They go after you because you’re a threat,’ Vom pointed out. ‘The Zatzat and other clans like ours are not in it to take power from anyone. We do it for money, and to keep each other safe. The Chippers don’t do a starking thing at night and the Alcazaar are more powerful than any one of our clans alone so we have to band together.’
Callista set her glass down and crossed her arms. ‘Why did you help us? The Alcazaar will come after you now — them and their bought Chippers.’
‘Bolt’s a tribesman and we look out for our own,’ Vom said. His face melted into a grin after she released an exasperated sigh. ‘Alright, I’ll speak the truth. There’s no money to be made in working with the Alcazaar — we gave up trying once they nicked the hovercars we were going to sell cheap to them. Bolt’s Maria. And he’s attached to a Maria subofficer. Maybe your lot will be more profitable to deal with.’
‘What do the Maria get out of this arrangement?’ Callista asked.
Vom smirked. ‘The codes that will shut down at least twenty of the Alcazaar vehicles.’
‘With the war that’s headed our way,’ Callista said dryly, ‘we’ll need a lot more than that from you.’
***
‘Should we return to headquarters and let our clan know what’s going on?’ Sandsa asked once they breached daylight upstairs.
‘Are you that keen to avoid my questions?’ Callista retorted.
He grimaced and looked away. ‘I just thought that it might be wiser, not to mention safer, if we cut this day short.’
‘I have a feeling I’m safest wherever you are, tornado-slinger,’ Callista said. Her smile felt brittle. ‘What need do you have for me if you’re that powerful, huh?’
Sandsa bent down for a kiss that she kept chaste and brief by sealing her lips shut. ‘Do not worry about that, my dear Callista. Your importance to me is not measured in what you can give me. But if you must hear it, you have given me understanding, patience and compassion when no one else ever has. You accept me and my powers…’ He trailed off.
Callista sensed his discomfort and his fear, far more potent than his desire to share his secret.
What could possibly be worse than telling the truth? she thought.
Sandsa turned back to her, his expression haunted. ‘I have been remiss in the truth with you because I am afraid of what you will think, though I begin to question my own caution because what should I fear? I need be no one but myself with you, Callista. I’ll love you for an eternity. I am sure of that now.’
A tidal wave of warmth began at her toes and swept up through her body, threatening to dissolve all common sense. Callista cleared her throat. ‘Nice speech. But when do we get to the part where you tell me the truth?’
Sandsa dropped his chin onto the top of her head. ‘I’m not sure. But I do know that I want to keep spending time with you today, outside of headquarters, here in the light. We won’t be able to do this for a while, I can feel it. And surely if we are attacked, you, as a subofficer, can call for backup.’
‘I can’t bring our clan out here until sundown — there’re rules about fighting during the day, Sandsa!’ Callista reminded him sternly. ‘We probably pissed the governor off last night by going through the No-Go Zone so I don’t want to make things any worse by starting a fight when the star’s still in the sky. But we don’t really need backup, so we? I’m sure you could crush anyone who came after us, isn’t that right?’
She left his side before he could answer and leapt back into their hovercar which, apart from a scorched line down one panel, seemed to be functioning.
Sandsa appeared on the other side of the plexiglass. ‘If you do not feel safe here in Atsa…’
Callista gripped the steering rods. ‘Get in. If these are the last few hours of daylight we can enjoy until we destroy the Alcazaar, I’m not going to waste them.’
Despite her nerves demanding haste, she took a more roundabout route to The Sample than necessary and even stopped to show Sandsa how to eat bright pink sugar floss that a vendor was selling out of his cart on the side of the road. Sandsa was still contemplating the unusual treat when they reached the opposite end of Atsa City. The moment they passed beneath the archway announcing their entry into the large dome, thick warm air clung to their clothes and skin. Sandsa sat up straight and peered around, a smile spreading across his face. The sticky remains of his sweet lay on the floor, forgotten.
School children on Yalsa 5 saw their first and only trees here, in a climate-controlled environment that was much easier to reach than what other planets had to offer. The Sample had been created back when there was talk of terraforming the planet; one hopeful company had erected the dome as an example of their work, but since no governor had ever been interested in paying for such a costly service, the dome was the only part of Asta City that didn’t sit on sand.
Callista parked the vehicle and powered it down. Immediately the whir of the engine cut out. She missed the noisy children from years past and sat there in silence, taking in the abandoned rainforest habitat, her disappointment growing. Unchecked plants chocked the pathways and moss crept up onto the rocks that had been chiselled into and positioned as signs for different walks through the trees.
Desperate to reclaim the joy she had felt in The Sample as a girl, she snagged Sandsa’s hand and led him down a path of concrete that was shattered with age and roots. With childlike glee, she danced between the worst of the cracks, making sure never to land on them. Callista glanced back at Sandsa when his fingers slid from hers. He was smiling, but it wasn’t because of her. He was busy sensing something — someone, Callista realised.
‘Warm greetings, brother,’ Sandsa said softly. ‘I’m glad you came to see me.’
Callista spun back around and caught sight of the stranger behind them. He looked to be only a couple of years younger than Sandsa but, unlike the Maria clansman, he could hardly have commanded attention anywhere outside a classroom. The newcomer’s green eyes sparkled as he jammed a cap over his bright copper hair, somehow making it even messier.
‘Brothers?’ Callista asked, looking between them.
The man beamed. ‘Yes. I am Kuja.’
‘You don’t look like you came in from the deserts,’ she observed.
‘Kuja is…he prefers rainforests,’ Sandsa said hesitantly. ‘And I need to speak with him privately. He would not disturb me unless it was important.’
Callista held nothing back, letting Sandsa feel her disappointment and distrust before she moved away to perch on a nearby boulder. Even though she couldn’t hear them or see their guarded thoughts, she made sure to keep her eyes on both men. Sandsa looked more and more harried while Kuja waved his hands, pleading with his eyes as well as his words.
What could be that serious? Callista wondered.
***
‘You need to come back, Sandsa,’ Kuja said, plucking at the loose khaki shirt he wore.
‘The Ine sent you,’ Sandsa accused.
‘No, no! It’s nothing to do with him. It’s just that I…I do not like the atmosphere in the Everything Portal,’ the Rforine said, using his preferred name for the divine realm — it was a truthful label, Sandsa supposed, because every god brought their unique powers there. ‘Fayay is just so…triumphant. And with you gone, he’s decided he’s in charge. He’s punishing us for stepping out of line, for threatening Father’s grand design, and he’s told us that if we dare abandon our duties for even a single moment he will kill us! And he could do it!’
Sandsa snorted. ‘Ridiculous. Fayay is not all powerful — he only commands water. And he can’t even read minds.’
Kuja tore at his lip with his teeth. His tongue swiped the brutalised pieces inside his mouth. ‘I can read minds, Sandsa, but that doesn’t make me powerful. You know I lack telekinesis and I’m much younger than Fayay, much weaker. And what about your people? Don’t you worry about them?’
‘My people know when to leave the deserts in pursuit of better lives, if those I’ve met here are any indication,’ Sandsa said with a shake of his head. ‘And mortals kill each other all the time, even among your people. It’s no concern of mine if the desert tribes destroy themselves.’
Kuja’s eyes glistened. ‘Your thoughts are so violent…you’re planning to kill people.’
‘If I kill them, they’ll have deserved it, for what they did,’ Sandsa said, expecting this to anger his brother but Kuja instead threw himself at Sandsa, wrapping him into a hug.
Extracting an arm to pat his brother on the back, Sandsa glanced over at Callista who blew out a breath, looking bored. He needed to finish this conversation, and soon. Again Kuja probed his mind; again Sandsa let him. Kuja moved back, frowning. ‘Our mother died a long time ago, Sandsa. It does not matter how.’
‘She could have lived long enough to — ’ Sandsa broke off, not sure how to finish the sentence.
‘I visited her, you know,’ Kuja said. Sandsa shot him a startled look. ‘I’m well aware that she lived here. You didn’t — you didn’t even look for her, to check if she was okay. I’m afraid, Sandsa. I’m afraid that you knew to come here anyway.’
Sandsa scowled. ‘Callista is the reason I came, not Mother. I love this woman. Feel it. Know it.’
‘I do know it. But what does it all mean?’ Kuja asked, his eyes flicking from side to side, as though he feared they were being watched.
‘Are you afraid that it means you can choose to live as a man, as I have?’
‘I’m afraid these gangs will kill you!’ Kuja cried. ‘I won’t go through this again!’
Hushing his brother, Sandsa curled an arm around Kuja’s shoulders and angled him away from Callista. He lowered his voice. ‘Kuja. I won’t let any Alcazaar filth kill me. I’m having a bit of trouble seeing the future, but I don’t need my powers to know I’m meant to stay with Callista.’
‘You think it’s a coincidence that she has strange powers and appeared in your dreams, luring you here?’ Kuja demanded.
‘Why would Father send me after her?’
Kuja hung his head. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t.’ Then he sighed. Leaves rustled around them. ‘I’m jealous. We’re all jealous of you, Sandsa.’
Sandsa gave him a piteous smile. ‘There you have it. The Ine would never risk such widespread disgruntlement among all his children. It is not his doing. Tell Fayay he’s the most powerful of us now, if he wants to hear it so badly. Farewell, Kuja.’
Kuja’s expression remained pained as he sprinted away into the trees, his footfalls vanishing along with his form. Sandsa turned to Callista, noting the fire in her eyes and the stiffness in her posture. He loved her. He wanted her. But what would she hate more — the truth or a lie? He dragged his feet as walked over to her, his mind racing.
When he reached her, he knew what to do.