The Cloud Roost (Jekua Book 5), page 30
“Good. Stop ’em, then.” Her idea was solid, but unfortunately, sometimes a plan simply didn’t work. Hopefully that would not be the case for his, however. He said, “I’ll hold it in place, and you hit it with another beam. I think we can take it out with just one more, especially if you get it in that wound.”
“How the hell are you gonna do that?” she demanded, looking at his Echobear.
“Just be ready,” he said.
Niona nodded, thankfully not pressing him further, and the illusory Raptors vanished. The trail of glowing flowers remained, bending gently in the breeze.
Celeste was still standing atop a platform of flowers jutting out from the other wall, until the Weshin fired a blast of lava at her. The Raptor leapt away, tucking and rolling into a shaky but mostly-safe landing, although the impact still probably took off a chunk of Niona’s mana.
Balt needed to get the Weshin’s attention somehow. Without any ranged attacks of his own, that was difficult.
He stood Milton up on his hind legs and roared, swiping his claws through the air. Balt caught Niona stifling a laugh while she moved Celeste into position.
“I need it to shoot a lava bomb at me,” he then told Niona.
“Interesting. That’s exactly what I’m tryin’ to avoid.”
He ignored her sarcastic remark and said, “Get Celeste close, do a Solar Slash, and then run away after it’s already attacked. Don’t get yourself hurt.”
Another nod. She swiftly positioned the Lightbloom Raptor beside Milton, who was still standing tall, his broad chest an easy target for the Weshin.
Celeste’s tail swung and a mass of solar energy sizzled through the air. The Weshin jumped, as expected, landing on the opposite wall. With every intense movement, blood gushed from the Weshin’s open wound, but it was apparently more concerned with killing them than taking care of itself. Balt and Niona turned their Jekuas around to face the giant spider just as a glob of lava spewed from its rear. Every single time it happened, Balt was grossed out by the sight.
As the bubbling ball of magma soared through the air, Balt couldn’t help but think to himself, Please don’t screw this up.
Celeste scurried out of the way, but Milton remained firmly in the blast zone. If he timed this wrong and didn’t absorb the attack, it would wreak havoc on his mana reserves. Hell, even if he did absorb it, he’d still be inflicted with some amount of damage.
The lava bomb hit Milton, bursting in a spray of orange and yellow.
Balt breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the Thermal magic coursing through his Jekua, even though he also had to shudder at the immediate warmth in his own body and the loss of mana he felt.
His internal pleading worked. He hadn’t screwed it up.
Not yet.
There were still the next two steps. He concentrated on that Thermal energy he felt, willing it to cool down, like he had during their training sessions. Heat burned with intensity throughout his body, but he could feel it slowly start to dissipate and cool him off instead.
“Keep it distracted,” he told Niona. The process would still take about a minute at the very least, since he wasn’t the most proficient at it yet.
“I don’t got a lot of wiggle room, here,” Niona said. The more mana spent on Solar Slashes, the less she could divert to a Plasma Beam. It was an incredibly powerful attack, but the downside was that it required a boatload of mana to perform.
Celeste kept the Weshin busy while Balt had to simultaneously move Milton around to avoid stray blasts of magma and invert the Thermal energy. Nothing about the Echobear outwardly changed; the only indicator that the technique was working was Balt’s own inner feelings. If his soulclay wasn’t so sensitive, he wondered how effective the inversion technique would be.
Only thirty seconds later, he believed the Thermal magic was ready. So far, so good. Although, he had one more opportunity to wreck this whole plan.
He and Niona had been darting around the battlefield as well, their regular rate of movement having been restored. They’d almost run straight into the Weshin’s near-invisible web, too preoccupied with their Jekuas’ placements on the field rather than their own, but at the last second Balt noticed the slight glint of it in the sunlight.
They stopped moving and he said, “Alright, I’m ready.”
“Finally,” Niona groaned.
Balt didn’t appreciate her irritation but he did not begrudge her for it.
He opened Milton’s mouth wide and started building up Thermal energy. Before the Weshin could jump again, he shot two balls of freezing-cold Thermal energy at its legs. He attempted a third, but it wasn’t in the cards.
The Thermal magic consisted of blue-and-white balls that looked much like lava, viscous and drippy. Both globs hit the Weshin’s left side, demonstrating that he obviously did not aim as well as he would’ve liked, but the advantage was that they were able to coat three of those four legs. Upon impact, the globs immediately froze, pinning the Weshin’s legs to the mountainside.
Furious, the Weshin tried leaping from the wall, but the frozen Thermal magic was unyielding. The Weshin thwacked against the side of the wall, dangling from its pinned legs while the others thrashed in the open air as it tried to regain purchase.
Balt didn’t need to tell Niona what to do. A white-hot Plasma Beam erupted from Celeste’s mouth, and her aim was truer than his. The beam exploded on the Weshin’s thorax once more, obliterating the exposed organs and ripping the creature’s body in two.
Its front half plummeted to the ground and exploded in a spray of blood and guts all over again. Crimson blood and neon green and pink organs spilled out of the Weshin’s body, while the few legs attached to that half spasmed before finally going limp. Above, its other half was still attached to the wall by Milton’s Thermal attack. A waterfall of viscera cascaded down the side of the mountain, but less than half a minute later, it slowed to a stop. Brightly-colored intestines hung from the corpse like a rope.
Balt withdrew Milton and immediately vomited. Beside him, Niona looked like she was going to be sick as well, but she managed to hold herself together.
When he was able to collect himself, yet another wave of guilt threatened to drown him. He hated causing such incredible harm to an animal, but what choice did he have? The beast wasn’t going to stop until it consumed all of them. He’d known the dangers of hiking through the Vetteteo Mountains, especially when going off the designated trails; his grandmother had told them at length about how aggressive and dangerous the Jekuas that roamed the peaks were. Still, no matter how necessary his actions may have been, they ate at him.
Niona withdrew Celeste, clearing the path of any large, glowing flowers at the same time. “Let’s get the hell outta here,” she said, her voice raspy and tired.
Balt nodded. He called out to the others, “It’s safe now!” Then he added, “We’ll come get you and lead you through. You might wanna keep your eyes closed.”
30
Her Stupid Heart
Hours passed before Alani’s heart finally settled down, stopped feeling like it was about to explode in her chest. For a while, she worried she was having some kind of medical episode, but eventually she calmed. It took time and getting food in her belly, as well as some good conversation.
Everyone else had fallen asleep already while Brine stood sentry near their makeshift campsite. Practically the moment everyone’s heads hit the ground, they had passed out. That wasn’t surprising. Alani actually couldn’t comprehend why she was having trouble falling asleep, given how bone-tired she felt and how exhausting and stressful the day had been. Maybe the accelerated heart rate had something to do with it. Perhaps she’d finally drift off to sleep soon.
Alani lay flat on her back, gazing up at the black sky. Every blink of the eye was slow and heavy, yet still she could not manage to slip into sleep. It was infuriating, but at least she had a pretty canvas to look at.
The sun had long since disappeared behind the mountain’s peaks, and subsequently the horizon; now the white half-moon hung suspended high in the sky, basking them in pale light. Stars twinkled and she listened to the sounds of the wind blowing and her soulstitcher whirring, wishing she could hear ocean waves from where they were camping.
In her hand she held the toy that Aeiko had crafted for her. Its metallic surface was cool in the night air, and running her fingertips over its smooth, rounded edges relaxed her somewhat. She pressed the mechanism to make it kick its silver leg, letting the tiny appendage gently tap her palm.
When all of this was over, when she had some proper downtime, she wanted to paint the figure. Give it some more character. She’d never done such a thing before, but she knew there was some sort of tabletop game people played that involved meticulously painting small figurines roughly the same size as the toy in her hand. Maybe she could go to one of those game shops to buy the supplies and ask for advice.
She shifted uncomfortably in her spot and took a deep breath, accidentally taking in some dust kicked up from her movement. She coughed, trying her best to keep quiet and not disturb the others.
“Are you awake?” came Aeiko’s soft voice.
Alani paused, gulping, suppressing another cough. When she regained her composure, she said, “Yeah.”
“I can’t sleep either,” they said.
They were laying beside her. Alani turned to look at them and could just barely make out their face in the dark, but she could tell they were smiling.
“I still kind of can’t believe that happened today,” they then said in a whisper, so as to not wake the slumbering Summoners a few feet away. Alani had to strain to hear them.
She chuckled, a hollow sound. “Same,” she said. “Somehow, no matter how much crazy stuff we go through, I’m always shocked by the next big, crazy thing.”
“Yeah,” said Aeiko, shifting their body slightly. Alani couldn’t see how, but she could hear the scraping of them moving across the earth. “I didn’t really suspect I would ever be confronted by a gigantic, man-eating spider. Did you?”
“I did not. I didn’t really think I would ever do any of the things I’ve done since I left Tanepke. Honestly, a part of me thought I’d never even leave town.”
There was a lull, then Aeiko said, “It’s wild that we’re up here. That we’re doing this.”
Alani nodded, but quickly remembered Aeiko couldn’t see her. “Yeah,” she said aloud. She smiled weakly and asked, “Do you regret tagging along with us?”
Another short pause before they answered. “I don’t think so,” they said.
Not exactly the confident reply Alani had been foolishly hoping for. What did she expect, though? For Aeiko to confess that all the hardship and near-death experiences were worthwhile just to be near her every day? That was ridiculous.
“To be honest, it sounds a little selfish, but I like feeling as if I’m making a difference in the world,” Aeiko went on. “That’s why I got into the field that I did. I wanted to develop technologies that could help people in real, tangible ways. It’s kind of hard sometimes, though, when you’re a cog in the machine that is a big tech company like Lakahlo. I’m glad I could apply what I was working on to something more beneficial, with the soulstitcher. And now, doing what I can—even though it’s basically nothing—to help with Pakree. To be fair, I feel pretty much worthless when it comes to that part, but still. I’m here if anyone needs me.”
Alani chuckled. “I know what you mean,” she whispered. “Especially on days like today, when we have to just run off while they protect us from some huge threat. It makes me wonder what I’m even doing here.”
“Exactly.”
She sighed. That afternoon’s events had been yet another moment on a long list of moments where she felt like a burden to Balt and the others. No matter how many times he insisted that she wasn’t dragging him down, it wasn’t easy to accept. Those feelings persisted.
Alani said, “I don’t think that’s selfish, by the way. Wanting to help people is, like, the polar opposite of being selfish.”
“I guess you’re right,” Aeiko conceded, letting out a deep breath. “I just worry sometimes that I’m doing these things to make me feel good about myself.”
Alani took a moment to consider that. Then she said, “Is that so bad, though? Aren’t we all striving to just feel good about ourselves? Or at least shouldn’t we be?” The sentiment sounded false leaving her lips, given her overall opinion of herself and the choices she’d made in life, and she had to hope that it wasn’t apparent to Aeiko.
There came another shifting sound from Aeiko, which Alani assumed to be them shrugging their shoulders. “Fair point,” they said. “I guess my sense of self-worth in regards to my work is warped because of my dad. He wasn’t a bad parent, by any means, but I also understood even at a young age that the store was the most important thing to him, above anything else. Now that I’ve gotten older, I know that it was because without the store, he couldn’t provide for his family, but still. He always prioritized the store over us, was constantly working long hours, and the most time I ever spent with him was when I went to the store. He always told me that when I grew up, I needed to be a hard worker.” They laughed lightly, then said, “Honestly, I don’t know if he ever actually said those words to me, but that’s the overriding sense I have in my childhood memories with him. I guess it’s hard to remind myself that the mere act of ‘working’ doesn’t inherently give me value.”
“It’s easy to tell ourselves things, or to give advice to other people, but hard to follow it ourselves,” said Alani.
“Yeah. Anyway, what was my point? I started rambling.” They took a moment to realign themselves, then said, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that even in my happiest memories with my parents, my dad always seemed…I don’t know. Unhappy feels too harsh, but not far off, you know? Maybe stressed is the word. All he ever thought about was that store, and he never gave himself time to just be happy and enjoy his life. Does that make any sense? I feel like I got away from the point you were making.” They chuckled again.
“No, I think we’re on the same wavelength,” Alani told them. “Also, for what it’s worth, I bet your dad was happy when he got to chase Balt and Wasaaru away from the store.”
Aeiko had to stifle a full-throated laugh. “You know what? That’s probably true,” they said.
They were silent for a few seconds before Alani spoke again. “My parents probably follow that mantra to a fault,” she said. “All they ever do is whatever makes them feel good in that moment.” She imagined her parents lounging in the living room, drinks firmly in hand, shirts stained and dirty plates scattered about from lack of cleaning. “Although I’m not sure if they even have that much self-awareness, come to think of it.” She felt awkward saying it, so before Aeiko could formulate a response, she said, “Anyway, if you can do some good in the world while also getting paid for it, that sounds pretty ideal to me. It’s not like we can avoid working, unfortunately.”
“You have for the past few years,” Aeiko said.
Alani grinned. “Fair. There was a lot I had to do, but I won’t lie and say it was particularly tough. That’ll all change soon, though.”
“Into the workforce you go.”
“Indeed. Yuck.”
Aeiko said, “I think your animal-helping idea is solid, though. You’d do great work there. You’d be making a difference, giving a voice to creatures that can’t advocate for themselves. That’s pretty noble.”
“You’re kind of overstating it,” said Alani.
“No I’m not. It really is noble. You shouldn’t downplay your own accomplishments.”
“What accomplishments? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“You helped those…whatever they’re called!”
“Jolloms.”
“Jolloms, right. You helped those guys out. And I’m sure you’ll do more in the future.”
Alani sighed. She had nothing to say to that. Again, she felt like she’d hardly done anything, although it had admittedly felt good at least being a miniscule part of bringing the poacher, Reno, to justice.
She decided to change the subject, not eager to discuss her uncertain, post-Church future yet again. It was growing tiresome, and it would only stress her out more and prevent her from sleeping. Besides, there was no sense getting herself worked up about it before they completed their mission here and on Pakree.
Instead, she flipped it around on Aeiko. “If you leave Lakahlo, what would that mean for Brine?” She still believed they could make a killing on their own, licensing the soulstitcher design, but she hadn’t yet stopped to consider what would happen to their ward.
Clearly, Aeiko wasn’t sure either. “That’s a good question,” they said. “I guess he’d have to go back to the lab? He’d be under the supervision of the other people in my department.”
“That’s so sad. Won’t you miss him?” As she asked the question, she wondered if the coral golem was listening to their conversation or if he was totally zoned out. Did golems zone out?
“Sure I will,” said Aeiko, “but I wasn’t ever meant to supervise him for this long anyway. We were always supposed to be sharing the responsibility. I just took it upon myself to bring him with me on this trip.”
“Calling it a ‘trip’ makes it sound fun,” said Alani.
A chuckle from Aeiko. “There’ve been some fun parts,” they said.
“Oh? Like what?” She wanted to know.
“Like this,” they replied.
The words floated in the air between them. Alani held her breath. Annoyingly, her heart was now racing once more. She was never going to fall asleep.
“…I agree,” she said, finally letting herself breathe again. Could Aeiko hear her stupid heart beating rapidly in her chest?
Alani didn’t know what to say next. As she fumbled for some words, any words, a cold breeze blew. She still had an arm sticking out of her sleeping bag, holding the gift Aeiko had given her, and the chill made her shiver. The sleeping bag’s puffy fabric rustled against the ground with the motion.
