Page 10 of Red Demon (Oria #1)
“Will the temple tell me what happened to them? Or just whether they are alive?” I’d let too much anger into my voice. As the silence drew on, I did my best to hide my panic.
“They’ll tell you anything safe to share,” the captain said, saluting. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
I didn’t push further to ask about the Red Demon. They were already walking away.
But as I moved to head back to my blanket of wares, the Asri soldier called back.
“Don’t worry, friend,” she said in fluent Chaeten, her voice softer than before.
“The queen will ensure justice, as will Major Mahakal.” She emphasized the titles with a reverence that seemed to warm her, make her stand taller.
“Just get your information from the right place. The less gossip going around, the better.”
Ren gave me an Asri salute, touching above her mind and heart before extending her hand out to me. I saluted back, and she turned to follow her captain. I studied the other soldiers’ backs as they walked away.
The ground beneath my feet seemed to crack and shift as I retreated to the meager wares on my spread blanket. Whispers clung to the air of the market like the tail end of a storm. A few in the crowd stared at me, their eyes darting away when I looked up.
I was still mulling over what I’d learned when a shadow fell across my little bundles.
I looked up to find an Asri boy about my age, tall, with the quiet intensity of a watchful cat.
Something about his demeanor held a depth that reminded me, with a pang, of Iden, even if he looked nothing like him apart from some curls in his dark brown and sun-kissed hair.
His skin was a shade darker than mine, and his amber eyes twinkled at me with gold-flecked centers.
He shifted nervously, fingers plucking at the hem of his cloak. “Those look good,” he mumbled in Chaeten, his voice soft, hesitant.
“They’re sweet,” I replied in Asri, yanking a smile to my lips. “Just picked this morning.”
He picked out a small basket of the plumpest strawberries and handed me a few coins. The juice stained his fingers as he picked the ripest one and tasted it. He offered me a shy nod.
I smiled.
“I heard what you said to the soldiers,” he said, just above a whisper.
My smile faltered. I glanced around, masking my apprehension. “Heard what?”
“About the attacks,” he said, his gaze unwavering as it met mine. “It was your family, wasn’t it? Siblings or parents, not just friends?” He spoke that last part in Chaeten, making sure I understood. Chaeten has a word for kin, but not “family.”
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded, unable to find my voice.
He took a step closer. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words imbued with a sincerity that resonated deep within me. “For everything that’s happening.”
I swallowed, the ache in my chest a dull throb. “It’s not like it’s your fault,” I said, surprised by the tremor in my voice. I pinched my eyes tight, trying to get a hold of myself. This boy was a stranger, not a friend. I missed friends.
He waited until I met his gaze again, his amber eyes holding me steady. “No. But I still… I want to end it rather than sit by and wait. The soldiers don’t tell us much. But they’re right about it all being contained to the Bend. You’ll be safe if you stay here, near the coast.”
A moment of silent communion passed between us. I didn’t need to stay safe. I wanted to end this too.
He leaned in. “I think the rumors are right. It’s ghosts in the Bend.”
“Ghosts?”
He said it again, in Chaeten this time. “Just like in the Ghost War.”
“I see,” I said, my heart pounding. That’s what the Asri called the war between the Chaeten and the Asri a century ago.
I’d heard plenty of things about ghosts, all exaggerated and glorified and not something I could act on—things that belonged either in the past or in stories for children.
But I knew the Chaeten destroyed an Asri tower early in the war, something that harnessed reincarnation, allowing Asri to be reborn as immortal Attiq-ka.
A horde of Asri ghosts, their minds crazed and shattered, killed swathes of people the world over—mostly Asri, since there were more of them to begin with.
“I’m Asher. What’s your name?” A smile played on his lips.
“Jesse.” The name tasted foreign on my tongue after weeks of disuse. He’d been the first to ask.
Asher nodded, tucking the berries inside his cloak. “Your Asri is pretty good, you know.”
“Don’t you Asri believe it’s wrong to lie?” I asked with a wry smile. I found it impossible not to warm up to him.
He gave a noncommittal gesture, borrowing Iden’s smile again.
“The only Asri in my old town was my school teacher. I honestly never thought I’d use it with anyone else.”
Asher huffed, a bright sound that warmed the air between us. “I enjoyed learning Chaeten,” he admitted, using my language. “True, there are no words for so many things I want to say, but sometimes they have words in Chaeten for things we don’t have. Both our worlds get bigger, you know?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Asher shrugged, his grin turning mischievous. “Yeah. We’re stronger now, right?” His eyes widened before he looked away. “Until the recent violence, anyway.”
I smiled at his blush. Before I could reply, a booming voice interrupted our conversation. “Ash! Let’s go!”
A burly Asri man stood at the edge of the market, black-bearded, with flecks of white in his tied-back hair. He looked at me and crossed muscular arms over his maze-designed robe, frowning.
“That’s my dad. I have to go,” Asher mumbled. “But don’t tell anyone you came from the Bend. The soldiers will quarantine you to a refugee camp if they find out.”
I frowned, trying to understand. Asher’s father called his name again. “How did you know I came from the Bend?”
“It’s my dahn, ” he said, but I didn’t know that word. “Maybe we can talk again sometime? If you come back?”
“Maybe.” A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. But that hope faltered when I glanced at Asher’s father, and his deepening scowl.
Asher scampered off toward his father, then turned and saluted, as if he knew I watched him the whole way. I needed the curious warmth he left me with, the feeling that I wasn’t entirely alone.