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Touching the Void

  Episode 4 of Van Raighan's Last Stand

  A Story of the Second Realm

  By R.J. Davnall

  Copyright 2012 R. J. Davnall

  This ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

  The Second Realm

  1-1: I Can See Clearly Now

  1-2: You Can't Go Home Again

  1-3: A Hole In Her Mind

  https://itsthefuturestupid.blogspot.com/

  Contents

  Touching the Void

  About the Author

  Van Raighan’s Last Stand

  4. Touching the Void

  Rel's cheeks burned. Laughing, Dora skipped away down the brow towards the grey sprawl of Vessit. Skipped, when she hadn't skipped since being Gifted her Four Knot almost ten years ago. Unable to help himself, Rel met Taslin's eyes. Her mirth faded like the pantomime it was, replaced by the kind of blank expression a Wilder should have.

  Dora's quip hung in the air between Rel and the Gift-Giver. Aren't you paying a little too much attention to Taslin's looks, Relvin? All he'd done was ask Taslin to cover up a bit more when they went into the town. For the fortnight of their journey, the Wilder had never been without at least some patch of bare skin, always provocatively placed, despite the chill early-spring weather and the obvious discomfort it caused her. It was as if she had given up on trying to win Rel over and instead settled for keeping him constantly uncomfortable.

  Heaven alone knew what the people of Vessit would think when she walked into town. The new settlement snuggled colourfully up against the concrete and glass of the abandoned old city. Beyond, the sea glistened under shafts of sunlight slicing through broken cloud, low enough to sting the eyes. But for the faintest hint of a twist where the shore cut up to the horizon, there was no sign that the First Realm ended a bare handful of miles out from the coast.

  Rel studied the view, picking out the circling of birds over the water, and nearer but still tiny, the figures of beachcombers, dark on pale sand. Whisper-soft, the rustle of expensive fabric told him Taslin had stepped to his side to share the view. Rel closed his eyes, sighing through his nostrils.

  The Gift-Giver said, "Forgive me, I don't understand why Dora laughed." For once she sounded like a Wilder, her voice flat and dead. "It was a joke?"

  Rel took another deep breath, relaxed his jaw. "She was teasing. It's... hard to explain."

  "I understand teasing. Saying things that make the hearer uncomfortable." Taslin frowned, her acting flawless as she finished, "Why would you be uncomfortable with paying attention to my looks?"

  "She's..." Rel could feel his cheeks heating up again. It was all too easy to forget the creature standing next to him wasn't human. Was she, too, poking fun at him? Fists clenched at his sides, he glared down the hill at Dora's retreating back-

  - And sight snapped into alignment with a remembered Clearviewing as she turned to look back up at them, laughing. The ribbon Taslin had used to tie up Dora's bouncing ponytail - newly straightened and stretched under Taslin's ministrations - fluttered in the breeze, just as it had in the viewing, two weeks earlier, that had sent them on this journey. At least, as far as Rel was any judge, it had. The odds were good, either way, that somewhere in the city ahead, Rissad Van Raighan was still at large. They were on the right track.

  Turning to Taslin, Rel said, "Never mind. This is the first part of my Clearviewing. We'd better get a move on."

  Hindered by her scandalous, figure-hugging dress, the Wilder stumbled as she followed him down the slope. "You didn't answer my question."

  "It's not important."

  Dora, coming back uphill to meet them, frowned as she overheard. "What's not important?"

  "I asked why Rel was uncomfortable with the way I look." Taslin's clear, incisive tones cut through Rel's mumbled 'Nothing'.

  Dora giggled, "Go on, Rel, why don't you explain? It's a mile or two to Vessit yet."

  He stared at her, and it was a moment before he realised his mouth was hanging open. He closed it. Blandly interested, Taslin looked on, her regard heating his cheeks yet again. Rel reached up a hand to the back of his neck, tugged at his collar, conscious of the damp chill of beading sweat. There was a childishness to Dora that he didn't remember even from when she was still a child.

  Trying not to mumble, he said again, "It's not important. Let's keep moving." He walked past her, head down. Would she notice the set of his jaw? If she did, was she even still capable of understanding he wanted the subject dropped?

  "You can't walk and talk at the same time, now?" Dora bounced along at his side. From behind, he could feel Taslin's interest tickling between his shoulders. In a sing-song tone she must have learned from his sister, Dora said, "Aren't you even going to say why you don't want to explain?"

  Rel gave a silent curse. "Why don't you explain, if it matters so much?"

  "Oh, no. I couldn't do that." She giggled again, skipping sideways so that she could face him as she moved. "You should never explain your own joke."

  Rel saw the opportunity. "Some joke. Jokes are supposed to be funny." It was rude, but maybe if he returned fire she'd shut up. That sometimes worked with Pevan.

  "Taslin laughed." Dora's expression was so alien on her face that Rel, catching a glimpse out of the corner of his narrowed eye, had to look again to be sure. She was actually simpering. This from the woman who shouted at Pevan and Rel all their childhood at the faintest hint of a smirk.

  "Yes, because Children of the Wild are famous for their ability to understand First-Realm humour." As soon as the words were out of Rel's mouth, he regretted them, his flushed cheeks burning even higher. There was no mistaking the childish tone of the snipe.

  To make matters worse, Taslin spoke, in a voice smooth with the assurance of experience. "In truth, Rel's right. I was taught that it's good manners to laugh when humans do."

  He couldn't help himself. "Not always." Though he made a deliberate effort to un-hunch his shoulders and walk straight, he knew he sounded sullen.

  "Stop changing the subject." Dora poked him, hard, in the arm. The gesture threw her balance off and she stumbled on the thick grass. Automatically, Rel put out a hand to steady her, but as soon as she was on firm footing again, she pouted. "You owe Taslin an explanation."

  Too much to hope for gratitude, then. "I don't owe her anything. Why do I have to explain?"

  Her glare took on a harder edge. Was she actually serious? "Your mother raised you to be polite, didn't she? I should know. I helped." The smirk she treated him to made it hard to take her seriously, even if she might genuinely think he was being unnecessarily rude.

  Rel made a tentative attempt at mirth that rang in his ears like the wheeze of an asthmatic donkey, and cursed himself for the lack of confidence. The same lack sapped the humour from his voice, left him sounding outright belligerent. "Okay, there's no way you're acting like this because of my manners. What are you trying to get me to say?"

  "Honestly, Rel!" She tutted him, as if she'd suddenly turned from his sister into his mother. "It's my job as Four Knot to ensure smooth and polite relations between humans and Children of the Wild. Most especially the Gift-Givers. Why shouldn't I take an interest in your appalling manners? It's only a question. Really, I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this."

  Despite the twinkle dancing in Dora's eye, Rel judged it better not to remind her she wasn't a Four Knot any more. Teeth-gritting she might be in this mood, but at least the melancholy that had dogged her through the journey had lifted. He stopped, turning to face her with his arms folded. "Look, if I explain will you shut up about it?"

  "S
o you admit there's something to explain, then?" She laughed, her demeanour shattering instantly as she spun, part-way through a step, to face him. She finished up with a stumble backwards and Rel had to reach out a hand to stop her falling flat on her backside again. However much she deserved the indignity.

  "I'll answer the question Taslin asked. That's all." There was no helping it; with Dora stood below him on the slope, he had to bow his head to look at her, and combined with his clenched jaw the effect left him sounding sullen again.

  The Wilder had stopped with considerably greater dignity. With the hill on her side, she seemed impossibly tall, and harsh daylight cut her already-sharp features to hawkish wickedness. She said, "Thank you. I apologise for causing such a fuss, but I would be remiss in my duties if I did not continue to seek greater understanding of your people."

  Despite the cool, almost affectionate tone of her voice, which surely sounded like sarcasm, she had to be sincere. Didn't she? As sarcasm, her words were impossibly sophisticated for a Wilder, except that nothing was quite impossible. Even by the standards of her species, Taslin set new records for confusing him.

  He settled for a stiff nod to acknowledge her apology, and realised he didn't know where to begin. Why had he gotten so upset with Dora's quip? It was rude of the Four Knot to suggest he might find a Wilder attractive, but he couldn't exactly explain that to Taslin. He bit his lip, caught himself doing it, and stopped, feeling the odd urge to cover his mouth to make sure he didn't do it again. Instead, he clenched a fist, and said, "Sorry, could you repeat the question? I've lost track."

  Dora laughed. Taslin gave her a brief glance and chuckled. Rel's blood went cold. Had they planned this? Taslin's face straightened quickly, but new suspicion kept Rel unbalanced as the Gift-Giver said, "Why are you uncomfortable with the way I look?"

  "I'm not," he snapped. "I just... I think... It might be best if you covered up a bit more when we get into Vessit. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves." A bead of sweat tickled as it slipped down the back of his neck. Still, better than answering the question she could have asked. Rel turned back to the path and started walking again.

  Dora's voice took on a definite edge. "That doesn't answer the question, Rel."

  He sighed, though the sound came out more like a growl, and kept walking.

  "Seriously, Rel, what's got into you?" Dora's words chased him, sharp but laced with concern, as if it was he, not she, who suffered the unknown effects of Wilder meddling. "It's just a question. You're acting as if you've something to hide."

  Gagged by the turn of the Four Knot's mood, Rel missed the chance to snap the obvious retort - so were you, just a moment ago - and set his jaw. He wasn't about to apologise for her worry, however sincere it was. She had been teasing, after all, every bit as intensely as Pevan could when the fancy took her.

  Instead, he glanced at Taslin, settling his explanation into careful order. Then, without breaking stride, he said, "Dora's first tease implied I might be attracted to you, Taslin." He turned his face back to the path as he stumbled over the Gift-Giver's name.

  Taslin met his awkwardness with unfazed, uncomfortable clarity of thought. "You are uncomfortable being attracted to me?"

  "Of course I am! You're a Wilder!" Turning on his heel to deliver his shouted riposte, he was satisfied to see both women flinch back. Hot shame for his consistent failure to remember Taslin for what she was - lethally dangerous and possessed of unintelligible motives - stifled restraint. "How could I do my job if I let you control me like that? And I'm not attracted to you. The idea by itself's insulting."

  "But why? I chose this appearance for its attractiveness. Finding me attractive should be simple