Callista watched her face ripple in the surface of the water beneath her and heaved again. A single line of bitter bile crawled over her lips. Grimacing, she spat it away then slumped backwards into the arms of her husband. He wiped her mouth with a towel and made awkward assurances while she lifted one of her palms before her eyes and studied the scar.
‘Don’t even try to talk me out of this meeting,’ she warned him.
Sandsa kissed her cheek. ‘I only ask that you go with caution and call me when you are in danger. The governor will not be upset if I leave him early.’
‘I can handle myself.’ Callista fought the urge to roll her eyes at his protectiveness. ‘And there hasn’t been a disagreement since the Spinners threatened to blow themselves up over that territory dispute three months back. They were quick to realise how stupid that sounded.’
‘I did not mean the…I did not mean mortal threats,’ Sandsa clarified.
‘I would rather worry about a stray lasgun bolt than Fayay swooping down on us.’
‘Callista, my love…’
‘Look, I know he’s a danger to us, but I’d rather…’ Callista closed her eyes briefly. ‘I’d rather worry about the enemies I know how to fight. The ones I know we can fight.’
We can deal with Fayay, he said.
We’re just chipless humans with a long lifespan, Sandsa — he’s a god!
If I must use the powers of a god to protect you and our son, then I will, he vowed.
Callista swiped a finger beneath each eye, catching the moisture that had gathered on her lower lashes. ‘I know. But if you do, you might not come back.’
She blocked him from her thoughts and stood to escape the confines of the bathroom.
***
Barely an hour later, Callista was perched on the edge of a plush seat, feeling the fibres beneath her constantly rearrange themselves to accommodate her tension. Either side of her, immovable masses of muscle fidgeted with their lasguns, giving her sideways looks as if they couldn’t quite believe the trouble she had given them. She continued to stare right ahead, ignoring them. They were nothing; she could kill them with thoughts alone.
It seemed Sandsa’s fears for her safety had not been entirely unfounded. A hovercar had torn up tar on its way towards her outside the hotel, where she had been about to meet with the city’s subofficers, its lasguns aimed right for her. She would have destroyed the guards had they not insisted that they would take her to her parents. Callista had paused then, surprised that she had not thought of her mother or her father in so many months.
Let them see how well I am doing without them, she had thought.
Then she had entered the armoured hovercar of her own free will.
The hovercar’s driver suddenly turned onto a road she was not expecting him to take. If she asked why her parents had moved to a different house the guards would probably not even answer her if they knew. She had suspected that her parents’ dwindling coin-chips would force them to find more affordable accommodation, but as the hovercar approached a tall ivory fence that looked like a line of grim spears jutting out from the earth, Callista wondered if they were imprisoned in this looming mansion instead.
Callista scowled. She was familiar with Isolde Israr’s residence, having spent an evening or two there herself, always in the company of her parents who would deliver a stern look or a kick beneath the dining table should she not behave. They had always been so anxious when they’d sent their daughter out alone with Israr, though not because they had been worried about her. No, they had been more afraid of her doing something sensible, like turning down an unwanted proposal. Callista smiled for a moment, remembering. She had met Sandsa that night.
The hovercar approached the fence at full tilt and Callista gripped her knees as they moved closer. At the last moment, a part of the road slid away to reveal a ramp and they followed it down into a concrete box that served as a garage, the hatch clanging shut above them. Callista climbed through the window before her guards could unlock the doors and glared at them when they hurried out after her. ‘Just where exactly do you suppose I’ll run off to in here? Israr would have made sure that the doors are locked to anyone without the right palm print.’
‘My dear Callista is right as always!’ Isolde boomed from the entrance of the garage. Though he had his hands held high, the ludicrously long sleeves of his bright azure cloak fell lower than his waist.
Callista crossed her arms. ‘Where are my parents? I was meant to be visiting them.’
A smile bloomed over his features. ‘They are my honoured guests.’
‘Honoured guests or reluctant hostages?’ Callista asked, adjusting her shirt so that the Maria symbol was more obvious. She hoped Israr would realise she was involved with gangs, even if he could not identify the clan.
Isolde frowned. ‘That shirt is not fashionable, not at all, and you will need to stop wearing it now that you are no longer in a gang. Now come! Food awaits.’ He eyed her. ‘Although it seems you have gained weight since my eyes last beheld you. No matter. I can arrange a smaller portion for your plate.’
Callista felt her son’s presence unfurl within her, offering her unimaginable powers so that she could escape. She tore a large chunk off her tongue and hacked it between her teeth before swallowing what remained.
We cannot use those powers — you are not a god, she told her son.
His reluctance to obey came in the form of a roiling inside her gut. She winced and forced her stomach to settle. Her son was a wild spirit inside her sometimes, so much like his father…well, what Sandsa had been like when he’d appeared that night to come to her aid. Callista sighed. How could she teach her son to abandon the powers that could save him from situations like this?
Callista followed Isolde up narrow wooden steps that creaked beneath their feet and into the foyer. It had possessed a grand entranceway once, but the front doors had since been removed and the gap was now blocked in with dirty beige stone which did not match the gentle grey marble of the room. Callista almost laughed. He still feared the clans if he was hiding behind that.
‘Callista! Oh, Callista, we feared the worst!’ her mother bawled, flying down a twisting staircase to inflict a hug on Callista.
‘Isolde told us that he spotted you running with a gang, that they had surely abducted you against your will,’ his father said, incorporating himself into her mother’s unwavering embrace. ‘He concocted this plan to rescue you days ago and enacted it with much danger to himself.’
Callista pried herself away. ‘Sure. Huge, massive danger, sending his big burly bodyguards.’
‘Don’t be ungrateful!’ her mother scolded. ‘You should be pleased that he went to so much trouble to ensure his beloved was safe — though you have clearly had more than enough to eat!’
Callista waited for her father to join in with some comment about her weight but he simply looked down at her stomach and smiled. Bewildered, but touched that he had guessed and was happy about her pregnancy, she managed to flip a smile of her own at him.
‘Is he going to propose again?’ Callista asked her mother, looking around for a seat to sink into but finding none. Her feet continued to ache.
Isolde clapped his hands together once. ‘Why, yes! I have always loved your shrewdness.’
‘As I have always loathed your inability to grasp the simple concept that your interest has never been reciprocated,’ she fired back. ‘Did my parents play you false, Mr Israr? Or did you harbour your own delusions?’
‘Stop insulting the poor man,’ her father said with a shake of his head. ‘You have made your feelings clear. I will not make you marry Israr — there is clearly no need for it.’
‘What!’ her mother exclaimed, furious.
Callista looked between her parents, mouth slightly open, then sealed it up again when she felt her husband, his presence zigzagging through the city like a snake searching the dunes. She assured him that she was in no immediate danger but his awareness continued towards her anyway and her retinas itched as he saw through her eyes, taking stock of the situation.
I will end them, he growled.
Who says I need your help? Callista demanded.
This man has kidnapped a Clan Leader, my wife, the mother of my child…
Callista refocused on her mother’s entreaties for her to apologise to Isolde.
She cleared her throat. ‘Mr Israr.’
‘Isolde, my dear, you will need to get used to calling me that,’ he corrected, smiling.
Callista snorted. ‘Mr Israr. I feel it’s only fair that I tell you that you’ve endangered your life by kidnapping me. Yes, kidnapping. Not rescuing.’
His lips shivered. ‘Oh?’
‘Oh,’ she mocked. ‘You have committed a hostile act against Clan Leader Dancer from the Maria clan.’
Israr blanched. ‘But that’s…impossible.’
‘What is she going on about?’ her mother hissed.
‘Surely you remember that when she left us she was already wearing that gang shirt of hers,’ her father said and swiftly grabbed his wife’s arm, keeping her palm from connecting with Callista’s face (Callista had erected a shield already, having known the slap was coming).
‘I thought it was just bad fashion sense!’ Callista’s mother snapped, struggling against her husband’s grip.
Callista rolled her eyes away from them and over to Isolde just in time to see his cheer crumble into uncertainty. ‘I joined the Maria gang of my own free will when the Galactic Mining Corp wouldn’t have me. So I’m curious, rich folk. Do you know how Atsa City is really run?’
Israr bowed his head. ‘It is not something that is spoken of in polite society.’
‘Fuck that shit,’ Callista said. ‘There, I’m not polite society. Go on.’
Surprisingly, it was her father who responded. ‘The nights belong to the gangs. We know the Clan Leader — Garnett says it is plural now? — well, the Clan Leaders are the governors of the night. But…’
‘It’s unbearable to speak of such things!’ her mother cried.
Isolde’s smile had returned now, much to Callista’s dismay. ‘Oh! But this is excellent news. My associates will be so impressed. A Clan Leader for a wife!’
‘Two more things,’ Callista said, grinning as she reached for Sandsa. Actually, my love, could you do a small favour for me…
His mental laugh was answer enough for her.
Callista’s mother frantically fanned herself. ‘Can it get any worse?’
‘I’m married to Clan Leader Bolt and we are having your grandson,’ Callista said, smiling.
Isolde swung an accusing look at her parents. ‘She’s married! I cannot enter a poly marriage — my associates are very traditional! Can we arrange a divorce?’
The floor shook. Callista idly inspected a fingernail.
‘What was that?’ her mother asked.
The wall filling the doorframe exploded inwards and sent a hail of stones flying towards them. Callista drew a breath and shouted, ‘Stop!’
It was if as someone had hit the pause button on a vidscreen. Her parents and Isolde were already half-turned from the shrapnel, hands rising to cover their faces. When nothing struck them, they peered through their fingers at the chunks of stone suspended in midair, eyes and mouths wide. Callista waved a hand at the daylight streaming through the gap in the wall. ‘My husband has just blasted you a new door, Mr Israr. Nice of him.’
‘Yes, yes, very nice of him,’ Isolde said, nodding.
‘Lucky for you, I have some very useful powers,’ she said conversationally. ‘I could kill you in any number of ways, but I’m not in the mood for it today.’
The debris abruptly scuttled to the sides, clearing the way for the man who had taken a city — and her heart. Sandsa strode through the billowing dust, wearing the suit she had helped him into that morning for his conference with the governor. Callista smirked at the thought of him sitting in a high-backed chair, discussing important details with a man her parents had been so desperate to invite to all of their excessive parties. She remembered an intricate ice sculpture at one particular event — it had melted when their climate control system, ageing and decrepit, had conked out.
Isolde dropped to his knees. ‘Clan Leader Bolt, accept my deepest apologies! I was deceived!’
‘Forget that!’ her mother bawled. ‘Those powers — she’s gone and joined the Chippers!’
Her father cleared his throat. ‘Actually, she was born with them. She had no choice in the matter so I’d rather you didn’t hold her to account for them.’
Callista stared at him, mouth agape, then hesitantly tried something she had never thought to do. Her first feather-light touch on his mind went unnoticed, but then his chin shot up and his eyes narrowed. His core of power was weak, minimal, but it was there — and had been there all his life. Not only that, he had been aware of her powers too and had feared that she might expose hers to society.
‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’ She did not need to elaborate. He knew.
‘It is something that was given to me,’ he said, studying the wall to his left intently. ‘Not who I am.’
Callista rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Dad. You chose to bury it. I chose something else.’
‘I had to bury it…I had to…’
The pain hammered into her forehead and she accepted his memories as he held them up to her, unfiltered and sharp. His powers had manifested early — his parents had thought they could beat it from him and he had let them think they had. He had buried his powers to survive, first from his family, then from a society that would never understand him.
Blinking furiously, Callista wrapped her arms around her father. ‘I am so sorry. I didn’t know. How could I?’
‘What is she going on about?’ a shrill voice demanded.
No need to check who said that, Callista thought. Her father’s mind glowed with agreement.
‘I wanted to take you with me to the Chippers, where our powers would have been normal instead of embarrassing,’ he moaned. ‘But he told me the chips would nullify our powers. You had to be found. The powers had to stay so someone could find you.’
‘Who told you this?’ she asked, her mouth dry.
He straightened out of her embrace. ‘The Creator God came to me. He chose me. He said he would take the powers away once I had achieved my destiny.’
‘What destiny?’ Sandsa demanded, stalking over to stand beside Callista.
‘You have to understand. I did it so I could be free.’
‘What destiny?’ Sandsa repeated.
‘I had to keep her here, near the deserts,’ her father bleated. ‘I had to. So I told the Galactic Mining Corp not to take her. And I had to make sure she provided what the Creator God required. I thought pushing her to marry Israr would help speed up the process…’
Callista gritted her teeth. ‘What did the Creator God require?’
‘A grandson,’ he whispered.
She threw herself in front of her father. He struggled behind her on the floor, his mind scrambled and confused. Shielding him from Sandsa’s next blast of telekinetic power, Callista snapped, ‘No! It’s not his fault. He was used!’
Salvation of the deserts. The words rolled through her head, over and over, then over again. His siblings can’t replace him. But his son could. The child I bear. The salvation of the deserts.
‘Does anyone mind if I…make myself scarce?’ Isolde asked in a high-pitched voice.
‘Take me with you!’ Callista’s mother screeched.
Callista didn’t bother to watch the two schemers scurry out the new entrance that a lascannon had gouged into the mansion. She kept her eyes on the two remaining men. ‘Dad, is all this true?’
Her father nodded. ‘I have only done what the Creator God asked of me.’
‘Ine,’ Sandsa spat.
Callista wound an arm around her husband. ‘He is nothing to you anymore. You have free will and the choice to do whatever the fuck you want.’
Sandsa’s blue eyes shimmered with tears. ‘But if we only met because of his will…if you only carry our child because…’
‘Then maybe he wanted you to leave and find happiness all along?’ Callista suggested, a little more flippantly than she intended. She felt the doubt manifest inside him and retreated back into her mind so he wouldn’t see the truth in her thoughts. A lesson or a replacement…
Callista looked at her father who was now hunched over on the floor. ‘I feel sorry for you, Father. You had no way of knowing that you could have ignored the Creator God and lived your own life. So get out of here. Find a new planet. And never contact me again.’
‘I…do not know what I should do, now that my purpose is achieved,’ her father murmured.
Callista fought the swell of pity and didn’t quite succeed. ‘I’ll have funds shifted into your account. Just know that if you’re still in Atsa by next week, I’ll let my husband do exactly what he wants to you.’
She and Sandsa turned and left her father there, knowing he had nothing, not even regrets. Her unease followed Callista all the way back to the Maria headquarters and into their spacious penthouse. She remained as still as a statue while her amorous husband stripped her of her clothes. But then his mouth enveloped a breast and she cupped the back of his head with her hands, surrendering to the mindless delights that he could bring her.
***
He watched her sleep after they made love. The sheet was tangled around her naked limbs and one fold of black silk was creeping up her thigh like an insidious trickle of darkness. Splayed out on her left side, hand digging beneath the pillow that supported her tired head, Callista looked untouched by fear or uncertainty. But even though Sandsa’s intense delivery of pleasure had relaxed her, he had still been unable to puncture the shield around her thoughts.
Sandsa kissed her brow then let Kuja know he was ready to be teleported away from Yalsa 5. In moments, Sandsa’s body collapsed, showering the floor with vines and greenery that vanished once their deed was done. He rose as a man among the trees on the planet Bagaran, light straining through the leaves to touch him. Kuja dropped down from the branch where he had been crouching.
‘Kuja, what did you need to speak to me about?’ Sandsa asked.
‘They’ll come for you, they’ll come when he’s born,’ Kuja whispered, unable to meet his brother’s gaze.
Sandsa let his voice drop into a growl. ‘It is not enough for Fayay to take my place in the deserts — he must come after my family too?’
Kuja’s shoulders sagged. ‘He has tried to use your powers. But he can’t. Fayay says there must be a god in the deserts and I suppose he thinks he can replace you with your son if you don’t agree to come back.’
‘We’ll stop him,’ Sandsa vowed.
‘So many of the others are joining him. They think he is right — the Desine must return. The grand design must be maintained.’
Sandsa drew a shaky breath. ‘Are we alone against them all?’
Kuja named the siblings who did not wish to involve themselves in the fight. Sandsa waited to hear more, for Kuja to list more of them, but his brother stopped there, wringing his hands. Kuja’s rounded cheeks dimpled with distress. ‘Sandsa, it’s worse than that.’
‘Worse than the three of us against practically an entire pantheon of our brothers and sisters?’ Sandsa asked disbelievingly.
Kuja’s expression was twisted with anxiety; his mind fared little better. ‘Yes! Nothing you’ve done was a surprise to Father. I think you were meant to have a son.’
‘I do not know why that was in the Ine’s plan. It worries me.’
‘He must have foreseen your disobedience,’ Kuja said, nodding vigorously. ‘He must have! He knew you would have no intention of returning — he must have seen this years ago — so he set his plan into motion.’
Fury blinded Sandsa and he spun away. ‘So he engineered this. All of it. He made Callista and Atsa my downfall. Before I even made the choice to leave. The mortals call this entrapment, Kuja! Why, a Chipper would lose their job for doing it! But not Father. Not him. Not the Creator God,’ he finished with a sarcastic bite to his voice.
‘But if he knew you would leave…’ Kuja hesitated. ‘I think Callista was chosen to provide a replacement. A new god of the desert, carrying your blood and the blood of a chipless human…he’s more powerful than you, Sandsa. Our own mother had nothing like what Callista has. If Fayay gets his hands on him…’
‘He will not have him!’ Sandsa snarled.
‘We’re just three people,’ Kuja pointed out, sounding crestfallen.
Sandsa paced, his nails digging into his palms. He knew the glance he shot Kuja must have looked wild. ‘What kind of father does this?’
‘He is the Ine, not a father,’ Kuja said. It was the first time Sandsa had felt any overt anger within his younger brother and he blinked at the rainforest god. Kuja bowed his head. ‘I never had the strength to stand up to him. Not like you.’
‘Your new resolve will not save us,’ Sandsa told him, sinking his knees into the filthy leaf litter beneath him, uncaring that it smeared his pants. ‘This is mad, you helping me.’
‘I am not refuting that. I just want to hear your endgame, brother.’
‘I will trade my life for his if need be,’ Sandsa vowed. ‘He still has a chance to be human. I am not sure I ever truly had that opportunity.’
The stillness of the rainforest abruptly gave way to a screaming gale. Trees splintered and leaves tore, their fragments scattered over the two gods.
‘I did not know you felt so strongly about this,’ Sandsa commented, glancing around.
Kuja also stared. ‘It wasn’t me. I felt it come from you.’
Sandsa threw his frown up at the tree canopy. ‘Perhaps all Fayay needs is some time to learn my powers. I seem to be able to use yours now.’
‘I do not think we have the luxury of time, brother,’ Kuja warned him.
***
‘What are we meant to do?’ Sandsa asked his wife when she woke.
Callista blinked once, read everything he presented to her on the surface of his mind, then leaned against the headboard, fingers laced over her swollen stomach. Weariness was like gravity on her and her lips were dry and cracked from the recycled air.
‘Sandsa…’ She hesitated, as if considering whether or not to continue. ‘Fayay can’t master the deserts.’
‘We do not know this for sure.’
Callista shuddered. ‘Regardless, we need to leave this planet.’
‘You want to leave?’ he asked.
Pain drew hard, straight lines across her forehead. ‘No. We’ve done so much to help Atsa. But it’s extremely irresponsible to stage a war between gods in a city full of innocent people.’
Hidden away in the dim bedroom, his bare skin pressed to hers as they huddled together, Sandsa allowed himself the delusion of safety. Her desperate kisses were a lure into further distraction and he could see no reason to resist.
‘The deserts can’t have either of you,’ Callista whispered fiercely.
‘But the deserts aren’t the ones coming to attack us…’ Sandsa trailed off, silenced by the determination he could feel inside her.
‘We’ll manage,’ was all she said before they both surrendered to the need of becoming one.