Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) (16 page)

She saw his face again, frozen in time and space, his hand outstretched, a glint of afternoon sun on the gold ring with the inset jade stone.
He couldn’t even hear me,
she thought,
and I still couldn’t tell him no.
With a nod to The Management, all that old life was gone.

Jade had never asked The Management about him, and over the years she had thought about him less and less.

Until now. Until there was someone else around who sparked similar feelings.

And bigger questions. As Jade finished dressing, she watched lives through the window again. Children in uniforms skipped toward school. Women walking in groups talked about their families, about movies, about the toils of the day.

Did I choose right?
she thought, standing in her lonely little room, her one luxury in all the world.
I keep the world turning, but what keeps me going?

The dream was love and fire, and the dream was the need to know. She was where she was supposed to be. Home was a little room and home was behind the bar. Home would never be what lay beyond that man with the ring in his hand. Home would never be Jay. Home was duty and duty was Jade’s only true partner and companion.

She left her room and went out into the streets of Agamuskara, following Jay. With every step, she told herself it was all for duty.

Bent women swept stoops, their twiggy brooms going
thk-thk
as the dust flew. Though, as Rucksack said, all that sweeping really sent the dirt on its long northward journey to build the Himalayas. Pots clanged. A bicycle bell
ting-a-linged
its slow way through groggy throngs. Prayers rang.

She stayed far enough behind Jay so he wouldn’t notice her, but close enough so she wouldn’t lose track of him. The backpacker seemed single-minded as he walked, and Jade knew he wasn’t going to turn around. He didn’t even pause until he had arrived at the steps leading down to the slow, meandering waters of the Agamuskara. Jade sat at the foot of a blue statue and watched him walk down the stairs. Jay touched the water.

He vanished.

Jade stood up so fast she whacked her head on the statue. For a moment, the blue god seemed to stare at her, annoyed. Then her head cleared, and the statue was just a statue again. She looked back toward the water, and Jay reappeared. At least, he mostly reappeared. He seemed hazy and indistinct, as if he wasn’t quite in the world anymore, but she was instead seeing him through the skin of reality, like cloudy glass, and he was in some hinterland just beyond the world where she walked.

As he came up the steps, Jay kept looking around, as if he were seeing something Jade wasn’t seeing. No one else seemed to notice Jay at all, she realized, as if he wasn’t there.
Can I see him because I’m a Jade?

On they walked, back the way they had come from, until Jay suddenly stood full and distinct in the morning light again. Jade jumped behind a cart covered in eggs, their white and brown shells glinting slightly. She ignored the annoyed look from its owner.

“You want egg?” the owner said.

“No,” Jade replied.

“Good eggs,” he continued. “Healthy. They make you shine.”

“I don’t want any eggs.”

Jay started wandering again, and people clearly saw him now. Relieved, Jade started to move away from the cart.

“Shiny eggs,” the owner said, pressing one into her hand. “New eggs. Best price for you.”

Still warm from the hen, the egg felt fresh as the morning. In that egg could be life, a new chicken that could go on to lay more eggs. Some would become more chickens.
And some,
she thought,
would become breakfast.

“No thanks.” She gently set the egg back on the cart. Before he could reply or hand her another egg, she quickly walked away.

She couldn’t see Jay.

A panic rose in her, an unexpected urgency. She had to follow him, had to find him.

But where had he gone? The old city was so built upon itself that over the centuries it had become equal parts maze and labyrinth. From where Jade stood, eight streets and alleys intertwined. He could have taken any of them.

Every moment meant more steps, more streets, more city between her and him. There was only one thing to do. Jade wandered close to one of the walls, put her hand on the cool plaster, and listened. She didn’t normally listen when she was among other people. Too many interruptions. Too many well-meaning souls asking if she was okay, if she needed a cool drink or a moment in the shade. There was no choice now, though. Jade closed her eyes.

The hardest thing about listening for something specific was filtering out everything else. It helped that the city wasn’t fully awake yet, and the sleepers and dreamers were easy to ignore. The animals faded easily. With so many concerns and thoughts, ideas and ponderings, feelings and doings, it was hard to determine which people to exclude and which people to hone in on. Yet as she listened to the city, she noticed something. Everywhere she looked, from the streets to the buildings, the city made her job easier. All of Agamuskara seemed to be watching Jay, and it was as if the city itself led her right to him.

She wasn’t familiar with the alley where he had been standing, but her years in Agamuskara told her it must lead right to the center, the heart, of the city.

And at the heart of the city, there was nothing for her to sense. The city’s white walls ended at a black void, tinged with red like a faint memory of fire. Then she listened to Jay again and heard the song that seemed to be pulling him toward the darkness at the heart of Agamuskara.

Jade opened her eyes and ran.

When she neared the mouth of the alley, Jay wavered where he stood, as if both following and resisting the song that called him. “Jay?” she said.

His only response was to take a step forward.

Near enough to touch him at last, Jade put a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered and fell to his knees. A silence seemed to fall on the alley.

“Jay?” she said again, but he fell forward, landing in the alley. His daypack seemed to wheeze as it compressed onto his back. She started to lean down to help him, and she heard the noise again.
Shr-shr-shr—

Then it stopped.

Jade looked at his daypack. The little bulge inside had been moving, but now it was still.

A tremor quaked through the ground. Jade swayed back and forth. So did the entire city. After the world settled, the bulge began to move again, and the
shr-shr-shr
resumed its whispering.
That’s got to drive him mad,
she thought.
What the hell is in there, anyway?

Jay was breathing, but his eyes were closed.
Well, he’s all right then,
she thought, and reached over to the daypack zipper.

The pack’s little teeth had just started to part when Jay’s eyes opened. His hand closed around hers, fast but not tight, surprisingly gentle.

When he saw her face, his eyes widened. “Jade?” he said. “Thought someone was trying to nick my pack again.”

Whether from the day’s rising heat, his falling and passing out, or all of it, she would have expected his hands to be clammy, but instead they were warm and dry.
I thought they’d be rougher,
she thought. The dream rose in her again. The walking and talking, the moment back inside the Everest Base Camp, the fire later—

Jade pulled her hand away. “What happened?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

Jay sat up and brushed the dust off his clothes. “I’m just hungry,” he replied. “Haven’t had enough water this morning, and did too much wandering instead of getting breakfast first. Dumb traveler stuff.”

Down the alley, the white walls stretched straight as far as Jade could see. Eventually, they seemed to bend, but she couldn’t tell for certain. A shadow lay far back in the alley. Beyond it, everything was murky and dim, despite the sun angling down and bringing brightness everywhere else.

That’s the heart of the city,
she thought.
But I have no idea what’s there.

“How did you know where I was?” Jay asked.

Oh crap,
Jade thought.
He can’t know I was following him.
“You know traveling,” she replied. “Serendipity is everything. I was out, um, talking with a new supplier for the pub’s eggs. Happened to see you, thought you looked kind of dazed. Considering the night you had with Rucksack, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jay stood. “Yeah, I’m okay. A bit of hangover got to me. Plus, I need something to eat. Thought I’d try The Mystery Chickpea, but it’s not here today.” He stared at her. “Jade? Are you okay?”

“What?” She realized she hadn’t replied.

“You look kinda pale.”

“I… You know you should never eat there, right?”

“That’s what I keep hearing. Sounds to me like just the reason to try the place.”

“Even Guru Deep says not to eat there.”

Jay shrugged. “Guru Deep doesn’t come to India either. I like his books, but I use them just as much as a guide for what to skip as for what to see. What he doesn’t mention usually gives me a good idea of what to be sure to do.”

“Look, there’s a great little cart down the way, back on the main street. They do amazing samosas. And there’s a lassi stall next to it, does the best mango lassi in the city. Tell them I sent you.”

“Sent by Jade of Agamuskara, huh?”

Her breath cut off.
He couldn’t possibly know that,
she thought.
It’s only how he happened to say it.
“I’m just a bartender,” she said with an edge in her voice.

Jay took a step back. “Sorry,” he said. “Don’t know what I said to annoy you. Just meant, you know, you seem like you’ve been in the city a long time. You know what’s what, and people know who you are.”

“People don’t know who I am,” Jade replied before she could stop herself.

“I can see why,” Jay replied. “Look, thanks for helping me. But I’m going to chase up those samosas and lassis. Um, see you back at the Base Camp, I guess.”

Damn,
she thought as he walked away.
I should have handled that better.

She peered down the alley. The white walls brightened as the sun rose, but the shadows far down stayed as murky as before.

She had never seen it herself, but every day she’d been in Agamuskara, someone had spoken of The Mystery Chickpea. It was always around. But not today. Jay took a fall and the city shook.

None of it makes sense,
Jade thought.
It’s like where there should be sun, there’s only shadows.

She turned away from the alley and walked toward the combination of streets that would take her to a small building of little flats. Her mind blazed out over the city, absorbing the different thoughts and reactions to the tremor.
It’s time Rucksack and I have a chat,
she thought.
Then we’ll take a look at the heart of Agamuskara.

T
HE GOD’S EYES
seemed so lifelike. Staring into them was like having a conversation with the universe. Jigme looked deeper.

“Cool statue,” said a voice behind him. “I don’t remember seeing that before.”

Jigme jumped and turned around. Jay sipped a lassi. “Have you had breakfast?” Jay asked. “I got another samosa.”

“Um, okay.”

Jay handed the samosa to Jigme and walked to the statue. He caressed the globe in the god’s hand. “How did I not see it before? I mean, it’s not like gods just come out of nowhere. Or do they? Maybe it’s a little party trick they play on the universe to amuse themselves.”

Jigme had lived his whole life in the alley, and he had come and gone from it ever since he could walk. He knew its dirt and its smells, its sounds and the way the light shone on the white stone. But he had never noticed the statue before.

At the corner where the alley met the street, about at eye level with Jigme, the statue stood on a small round pedestal. The wall containing it had been hollowed out so that the statue hid safe inside, flush with the surface. The blue of the god seemed to pulse and shimmer against the white walls. Flawless and unweathered, the god statue seemed like flesh, not marble. In its palm-up left hand, a bluish-white globe lay level with the figure’s neck. The god looked not at the globe but at whoever looked at the god. Its right arm was stretched out in front, hand up, palm forward, as if to say, “Stop. No farther.”

“It’s good you’re having breakfast,” Jay said, still staring at the globe in the statue’s hand. “I waited too long and I saw strange things. Stranger than this. Only none of them had one of these. Why do you think that is?”

As Jigme swallowed a bite of samosa, Jay turned around. A fire seemed to be sparking up in his eyes. An answer tried to jump out of Jigme’s throat, but some samosa got caught and he started coughing.

“You don’t know either?” Jay said. He shrugged and looked back at the statue. “All the gods around here carry so many things,” he said, “but none carry a globe. It’s like a perfect little replica of our own little world. Where in your mythology would that even come from? Guru Deep doesn’t mention it, and he spends a lot of pages talking about the gods here.”

A cough knocked loose the samosa crumbs. Jigme hacked again and swallowed. “Here, have the rest of this,” Jay said, handing over the lassi. The fire in his eyes died down.