D. MacHale - Black Water

“Then where’s our value?” another klee shouted. “We paid for him.”

“You had him long enough and he gave you a good fight,” Kasha yelled back. “He owes you nothing more.”

“But he didn’t kill the gar!” the first klee argued. “The fight isn’t over.”

Kasha took a threatening step toward the other klees. “The fightisover,” she snarled viciously. “Unless you want to enter the circle with me.”

The klees exchanged nervous looks. Nobody wanted to mess with Kasha.

“Durgen won’t like this,” the klee said.

“You say that like I should care,” Kasha spit back sarcastically.

The klees shrugged and backed off. “Just letting you know, is all,” one of them said.

Kasha watched them to make sure they weren’t going to come after me, then looked to me. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m alive,” I answered. “Where have you been?”

“What? I get no thanks for saving you?”

“Thanks. Where have you been?”

“You need food,” she said. “Come with me.” She held out a leash for me to slip over my wrists.

“Not a chance,” I said, and walked off.

Kasha didn’t argue. She dropped the leash and we walked, together, back toward her home. I was weak and hungry and a little wobbly on my feet, but it didn’t matter. I had my freedom and I didn’t have to kill a gar to get it. For all I knew, being sent to that prison and starved and mistreated was all a Saint Dane-orchestrated setup to get me to kill a gar. If so, it failed. The nightmare was over.

As we walked I saw that the prison was next to the zenzen corral. We walked through the animal enclosure, passing several of the multijointed horses, who were kept in much nicer conditions than the gars, I might add. Being outside for the first time in a month made me appreciate how truly beautiful Leeandra was. Heck, anyplace would have looked beautiful compared to that gar hole.

“We tried to rescue you sooner,” Kasha finally said, but it was more of a statement than an apology. “It was impossible. Durgen has many friends among the handlers.”

“You should have tried harder,” I said bitterly.

“Should I?” Kasha snapped. “You forget why you were there in the first place. It was because I chose to save your life instead of a klee. Now I’ve saved your life twice. But instead of thanks, you criticize.”

I wanted to argue, but didn’t think it would help.

Kasha added, “We couldn’t even get close to you. We had to wait until they brought you out to…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to say it.

“To get killed,” I said, finishing the sentence. “Why do they keep gars in prison like that? It’s beyond cruel.”

“It’s not a prison,” she corrected. “Prisons are for klees. You were in a stable.”

“Whatever,” I answered angrily. “They treat gars worse than animals. Why? So they can have their little bloodsport?”

“No,” Kasha answered. “Gars have many uses.”

“Like?”

“Like working to keep Leeandra operating by clearing the water pipes and replacing power crystals above the trees. The handlers train some for wippen tournaments; or to help blind klees who can’t get around on their own. Some go into homes as servants or perform acrobatics in shows for young klees. If a gar doesn’t show a particular talent, but is loving, a handler can train them to be excellent pets. Gars are very important to Leeandra.”

“And some are used to kill each other to amuse the handlers,” I added. “Or to feed tangs to protect the foragers.”

Kasha didn’t comment.

“Bottom line is, the gars are your slaves,” I said. “The klees treat them as totally disposable creatures who do all your dirty work. It’s wrong, Kasha, and the thing is, you know it. I saw you save that gar in the jungle when I first got here. You’re not the hard case you pretend to be.”

“There are many things I don’t agree with,” she said softly. “I still see all sides.”

We walked in silence for a while. I then asked, “Has Seegen turned up?”

Kasha didn’t answer, which meant that the Traveler from Eelong was still missing. I was beginning to worry that he might never come back, which would spin my situation into a whole ‘nother, scary direction. We didn’t say another word for the rest of the walk. I wanted to stay angry at Kasha, but didn’t have the energy. If they couldn’t rescue me sooner, I had to accept that. Besides, I was too relieved to be out to stay mad at anybody. Except for Saint Dane, that is.

When we got to her home, Kasha gave me some fresh clothes (rags) and allowed me to use the running water in her bathroom to clean up. It was an incredible feeling to shower off the crud that had been building up for the last month. I felt like a snake shedding its skin. Once the filth was gone, I took a look at my body to see I had lost a ton of weight. I actually had a six pack for the first time in my life, but it wasn’t because I was in shape, it was because there was no fat to cover the muscle. I looked totally cut…but felt horrible. I couldn’t look at myself anymore; it was too depressing. I quickly put on my new, clean rags and joined Kasha in the main room of her tree house.

I was overwhelmed to see that while I was washing, she made me a feast. There was a roasted bird, bowls brimming with fresh, nonmoldy fruit, and round loaves of dark brown bread.

“Don’t eat too fast,” she warned. “Your system isn’t used to it.”

Tough. I was starved. I sat down and did my best not to be a total pig, but the more I ate, the more I wanted. I chowed, only stopping long enough to let out a belch that felt like it came up from my toes. After that I dug right back in. Kasha stayed in the kitchen, allowing me to enjoy my meal in peace. It didn’t take long before I was totally stuffed. I actually didn’t eat all that much because I think my stomach had shrunk down to the size of a walnut. There was still a tableful of food left over when I had to call it quits. I thought of forcing myself to puke, just so I could do it all over again, but realized that would have been idiotic. Not to mention rude. So I sat back and enjoyed the sensation of a full belly for the first time in a long time.

“I fear for my father,” Kasha said. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Boon and Yorn have been taking turns watching that tunnel in the tree.”

“The flume,” I said.

“They are convinced he will somehow magically appear there,” she said. “I don’t share their optimism.”

Kasha sat across from me at the table. For the first time since I’d met her, she seemed unsure. She wanted answers, and I sensed that she might finally be willing to listen to what I had to say. I may have been a lowly gar, but if it meant finding out what happened to her father, she would listen.

“Believe it or not,” I began, “I know how you feel. My life used to be normal. I had a great family; I liked my school; I had excellent friends-it was about as close to perfect as you can get. But I also had an uncle Press. One day he showed up and told me I had to leave home because people needed my help. It didn’t take long for me to find out my life wasn’t as normal as I thought.”

“And where is this Uncle Press now?” Kasha asked.

I quickly realized I had gone down the wrong road. But I had to answer truthfully. “He’s, uh, he’s dead.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Bad move, Bobby. Kasha stood and paced anxiously. It was odd how I couldn’t hear her feet making sounds on the floor, but after all, she was a cat.

“I don’t know how to say this in a good way,” she began. “Just say it,” I coaxed her.

“All right. I don’t care. I really don’t. All this talk of Travelers and territories and evil demons is nonsense, and it’s ruined my father’s life. He was respected. He was about to be named to the Council of Klee! But once he found that tunnel in the tree, he changed. He became obsessed with this foolish mission. It consumed his life. And Yorn encouraged him! I tried to get him to see reason, but instead he told me that one day I would have to take his place. I turned to my best friend, Boon, to help me talk sense to him. But instead of helping me, Boon got sucked into the ridiculous fantasy as well. They amuse themselves with tales of battles on other worlds, while ignoring the real problem facing Eelong.”