Forever the Road (A Rucksack Universe Fantasy Novel) (27 page)

Then again, no one had any indication that anything had changed at the black temple at the heart of the city.

It’s all okay,
she told herself again.
It’s not as bad as we feared.

But beneath the rush in her blood and the thrill when she kissed Jay, the questions beat at her as constantly as her pulse.

The visible helixes, burning out like singed paper.

The dia ubh turning gray and lifeless, no longer floating.

A child gone.

And Jay’s destiny.

His damned, damned destiny,
Jade thought,
which I should be bringing about, not averting. Love has no place in decision and destiny. Or do decision and destiny have no place in love?

A soft
pthump
made her turn and face the bar.

The Management hadn’t sent a note in weeks. Jade went over to the phone, which never rang, and opened the special cabinet.

She tried to think only of the night ahead, though. After the pub closed
,
she and Jay were meeting for a drink.
Just the two of us, just like that first night,
Jade thought.
After that, we’re going back to my room for the first time. I’ve got more than a black silk dress to show him tonight.

Jade grinned, imagining the hours to come. She reached for the note inside the cabinet.

As she read, all thoughts of the night drifted away like ash.

We have been long in discussion, Jade Agamuskara Bluegold. What you have done was wrong for a Jade to do. Another would have been dismissed immediately. But because we understand the lonely rigors of your role and because of your long service, we present you a choice:

Love is not the traveler’s path. Influence him with the mixture below. Remain a Jade. You will be forgiven and rewarded.

Continue resisting your duty and the needs of the world, and you will cease to be a Jade.

You have three days to choose your destiny.

Jade read it again and again. The paper crinkled and crackled like the cone that had held the
bhel puri
she and Jay had shared yesterday, smiling as they passed a spoon back and forth, crunching puffed rice and tasting the sweet tang of vegetables spiced with tamarind sauce.

“I’m getting used to this,” Jay had said.

“To snacks?” she had replied, grinning.

His face had remained serious. “To us.”

She had said nothing. Tears stung her eyes now.

Did I know?
she thought, staring at the crumpled note in her hands.
Love or duty? The Jade of Agamuskara or a Jade who is no longer a Jade? Who am I? Who do I want to be?

The bar shelves broke Jade’s reflection. Her blue-and-gold eyes shimmered, wide with fear and a sadness that loomed like a hole she could fall into and keep falling.

A life with Jay, or the life of a Jade?

But what was the worst that could happen? Whenever a Jake or Jade left, either from resigning or from being sacked, The Management always let them choose new circumstances to move into, or as they called it, “revision.” No one had to just pick up where they were leaving off. Usually, people took a new direction in life, often with family, a lost love, or some other path that may have been. If they wanted, they could have their memories of their service removed, but most didn’t do that. They treasured their old selves, like old photographs occasionally taken out of a dusty box. They always chose health and wealth. No former Jake or Jade, far as she knew, ever wanted for life’s basics.

The Management knew they asked a lot from their Jakes and Jades. In return, no matter the circumstances, they always offered a healthy severance.

The worst that can happen is a new life,
Jade thought.
I’d never want for anything. Jay and I could go anywhere, do anything, for as long as we wanted. I’ll age but I’ll be healthy. Maybe that’s not so bad.

Flowing through her mind was the potential of what could be.
I don’t have to choose yet,
Jade thought.
I have time to figure this out. Maybe there’s a way to do both and be both. Maybe I can appeal to The Management somehow. There has to be a way around this destiny, a different path for him. For me. For us.

She closed the cabinet, folded the note, and tucked it into her pocket with the other two notes.

Why didn’t I know right away?

Jade breathed in deeply, arching her head back and closing her eyes. When she breathed out she lowered her head and looked straight in front of her. There’d be a way. The Management had to know there were other options. She would figure things out with Jay and this supposed destiny looming over him, her, and the city. “Jade or not,” she said. “I’m still me.”

She stepped outside, squinting at the harsh light as she locked the door.

“Are you okay?” Kailash asked. “You seem flushed.”

“I’m okay,” Jade replied. “Just rattled over that fight last night. I have to get back in time to get rid of that broken table.”

“But you got what you needed?”

“Oh…”
I forgot,
Jade thought. “We can just go,” she said, turning and starting to walk in the direction of the hospital. “It wasn’t the right thing after all.”

“No more song?” Kailash said.

Jade didn’t reply. Kailash said nothing else, and Jade didn’t like a word of what the other woman wasn’t saying.

A
SHA TOOK
her first steps on her own, and everyone cheered. Her feet shuffled a short distance from her hospital bed. She smiled but looked down at her feet, surprised that they were stepping and that she was moving them.

“It’s been so long,” she said, her face still gaunt but filled out slightly from over two weeks of regular nourishment.

“A step at a time, my lass,” Rucksack said. “No rush. The world’s a better place just seeing you up and about again.”

Jigme glanced at Rucksack, who was standing next to Kailash to the left of the door, and at Jade and Jay to the right of the door, their hands intertwined.
They’re all here. Together,
he thought.
For Amma. For me. They all smile so big, so bright. They all look so happy.

Somewhere deep inside Jigme, a little boy wanted to jump and cheer, spin in circles, hold his mum’s hand, and gaze at her with wide eyes.

But every time Jigme tried to let that happiness flow through him, something leaped up inside him and burned away all the cheer.

He tried to smile as big and bright as everyone else, but the corners of his mouth would barely stretch upward. His face felt thin, as if his skin had been replaced with cheap paper.

Shouldn’t this make me smile?
Jigme thought.
Shouldn’t I be happier? Just a few weeks ago I felt so alone. Now Amma’s come back. It can be me and her again, the way it used to be. The way it should be.

Asha took another shuffling, unsteady step forward. Jigme managed a smile. This one seemed a little stronger. She looked up from her feet and caught Jigme’s gaze.

“You’re doing great, Amma,” Jigme said.

He glanced at Jay, whose nod confirmed that the bill was paid. They could leave anytime. He and Amma could go home, thanks to the hospital, the doctors, and Jay.

“Yes,” said the rough voice in the back of Jigme’s mind, “you can go home. You can enjoy your sweet mother’s company again. But remember, boy, your mother is not walking because of the hospital. She isn’t awake because of these doctors. And all the money from that fool is no more responsible for her walking than you are for the sunrise. You know why she’s able to move around again.”

Heat rose in Jigme’s mind.
Yes,
he thought, his memory trying not to turn back to it.
I know why.

A hand on his shoulder made the heat fade. Amma’s hand. She stared at him, kind and hard. “Son?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“It’s so hard to believe this is over,” Jigme replied. “That you’re okay again.” The memories pushed at him, but her eyes on him, her hand touching him—the memories could not make him look.

“I’m getting better,” Asha said. “It will still take some time, but I will try hard, Jigme. For you. I will get better.”

Jay looked over at the doctor, standing in the far corner of the room. “Were you able to determine what got her so sick?”

The doctor shook her head. “We tested for everything we could. All we know is that she had nothing contagious.”

“Will it come back?”

A shrug. “Hopefully not. I can’t say with any certainty if she’ll relapse. Any signs of a recurrence, any malaise, any listlessness, please come back immediately. We’ll do what we can. It’s been a most strange case, and I hope you have a full recovery.”

Kailash stepped forward. “How about the rest of us wait out front, so Asha and Jigme can have some time alone? Asha, once you’re ready, we’ll take you home.”

The door closed behind the others. The moment it clicked, Asha smiled bigger than Jigme had ever seen before, and she leaped straight into the air.

“I’m better!” She landed without a sound and stepped forward to hug him. “Oh, Jigme, I’m sorry to have put you through so much. Will you forgive me?”

“I’ll always forgive you, Amma.”

“Are you angry? It’s okay to feel angry. Your mother wasn’t here for you. That will never happen again.”

Jigme shook his head. “It wasn’t easy. But my friends have helped.”
And I have found other ways to make you better.
His thoughts flashed to the temple.

Asha hugged him tightly to her. Jigme was surprised at how much strength was in her frail body. “Be careful, Amma!”

“Oh, I won’t hurt you,” she said, giving him a squeeze around the ribs.

“I don’t want you to overdo it.”

Asha smiled. “Oh Jigme, I couldn’t overdo it. Not now. Never again.” Something flashed red in her eyes. “I came back strong. I came back to be the mother you need me to be.”

She’s really okay,
Jigme thought.

Now he smiled.

Asha stepped back toward the bed, where her best sari, bright red with black accents, lay waiting for her. “I’m going to get dressed,” she said, pulling the curtains closed. “And then, my son, we’re going home.”

Home.

Jigme wondered what home looked like now. Since the night Asha had awakened, Jigme hadn’t been back to their small home in the alley. He’d slept in the hospital room. The only time he left was when he returned to the alley, walked past the red door, and went to the black temple. Lately, the dim temple had begun to feel almost like home.

Once Asha came out, sparkling and elegant as her sari’s subtle silver-and-gold threads caught the light, they walked down to the hospital lobby and then outside, into the midday air and light. This time when everyone smiled, Jigme managed a grin more easily. Jay led them all to waiting taxis.

“Son,” Asha said, “do the honors. Tell the man where we’re going.”

“Home,” Jigme said.
Wherever that is now
.

He then gave the driver the details he needed to get them home. A few miles and countless horn honks later, they stood around the red door, which Asha insisted that Jigme unlock. When the door creaked open, a musty smell wafted out—the smell of hot dust, unaired bedding, and stale sick breath.

“I’m sorry,” Jigme said, blushing. “I should have cleaned.”

Asha shook her head. “It will be good for me to clean,” she said. “Because of my illness, our home was not what it should be. Together, we will make it a better place. Okay?”

Jigme nodded.
Just like what the Smiling Fire says,
Jigme thought.
It will all be a better place.

“It will be a lovely home,” Kailash said.

“All in due time,” Rucksack added.

Asha stared at each of them. “We’ll start immediately,” she said, taking a step toward the threshold. Pride flared in her eyes, and Jigme again saw the old strength in her, the mother who could twirl around while she held him over her head. Asha stepped over the threshold, regal, back straight.

Her foot caught the splintery wood and she gasped.

“Amma!” Jigme yelled, but she was falling before he could even step toward her.

Dust puffed off the floor around her body inside the dim room. A dull smack knocked the smiles off everyone’s faces.

Jigme stared at the hair on the back of his mother’s head. She didn’t move.

A cough rose from the face he couldn’t see. Asha wheezed, trying to breathe air back into her lungs.

“Must’ve knocked the wind out of her,” Jay said, stepping forward. “Here, let me help you up, Asha.”

Jigme jumped between them. “No!” he said. “I’ll help her. She’s my mum!”

Jay stopped. “Okay. I just wanted to help.”

“You’ve helped enough,” Jigme said. He leaned down and put his hands under Asha’s shoulders. “Amma? Mum?” She looked at him with pain in her eyes. “I’m going to lift you up. Can you help me do that?”

She nodded. As they stood, her wheeze deepened back into something resembling breath. “Such… a good boy,” she wheezed. “Always… such a good boy.”

“Are you okay?” Jade asked.