Jubi

In the beginning, there was nothing but the sea. Samudra, the Divine Mother, slept and she dreamed. From that dream three giant butterflies were born. They fluttered their wings, working together, working alike until the Isle of Draca rose from the sea. When the kings came, they made the Book of Taboos and used it to make us believe what they needed us to believe. At first no one would believe. But belief grew with each generation, until one day, it became the one and only truth.

The Song of Creation

I had no idea what woke me up, whether it was the tremor that vibrated through the forest, and through my body; or the bird’s mad screams.

The dragonfly-buzzard flew out of the cave, still screeching. I ran behind, weaving my way through the trees. Perhaps the Mere was still malignant, but I felt nothing. My own fear made me numb to everything else.

We reached the beach, the bird and I, just as dawn was breaking, just as a huge sheet of water swept across the cliff and crashed into the sea.

I sank to my knees, closed my eyes and tried to pray to the Divine Father. Somehow the words wouldn’t come.

The roar of the wave receded. A deep silence fell.

I opened my eyes. The sea was as calm as a pond.

I looked at the cliff. It was as bare as my palm.

The bird’s screech broke my trance. I got up and ran towards the cliff path.

Miiya... and Papa.

I was almost there, when something barred my way. The light was still weak. All I could see was a darker shadow, and two gleaming orbs. The eyes came towards me. I stood, caught in their yellow glow, unable to move.

Then I realized.

The bird screeched, the same time I screamed.

“Sabha.”

*

Sabha led us to Miiya.

She was lying in a heap at the bottom of the cliff, small and withered, like the oldest woman in the world. I knelt by her, crying her name.

She opened her eyes, their glance as sharp as ever. A smile played on her lips, the smile I had seen so many times the last few weeks, at once warm and mocking. She grabbed my hand, her fingers digging into me like claws.

“Open up your mind.”

Sense returned to me, and with it determination. She cannot die. I will save her.

“No! You need to conserve your strength.”

Her eyes were like traps; they wouldn’t let me go.

I tried to keep my voice steady. “We need to get you to a warm place. Then you can rest. You need sleep, Miiya. Lots of sleep. And then...”

Her voice cut into my babbling. “Open your mind, Jubi.”

I tried to resist. But her eyes defeated me. I tried to struggle, but they pulled me in.

Time ceased to exist and I ceased being here.

I was on the road to Sammalore. I was abducted. I was in the slave colony. I was beaten. I hurt. I was hungry. I was thirsty. I was terrified. I was weary. The faces, the lashes, the hands; the terror, the agony, the shame, the despair – they were not memories of a time past, but experiences of a time present. I lived through each moment.

Suddenly there was emptiness, a blessed, blessed void. It vanished even as I clung to it.

And I was back.

The memories were there, but they didn’t lacerate. They were there, just pictures in a book.

“Now you can face the future.”

Miiya’s voice was barely a whisper. Her hand was slack in mine. I kissed it, and kissed it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your father.”

I shook my head. “I know you tried.”

Miiya breathed deeply.

“Jubi.”

I could barely see her through the tears. All I could say was, “Please.”

“You owe Cillo and me a life.” Miiya’s voice was almost normal, almost steady. “A life lived and lived well. That is your debt to us. And debts must be paid. Cillo paid his. I’ve paid mine. We earned our rest. You must earn yours.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you, my darling. Thanks to you and Cillo and that dratted bird, my life had a grand finale.”

There was so much more I wanted to say. I tried, but every time, my tongue could manage only three words. “I love you.”

Miiya smiled and closed her eyes. I kissed her hand again and touched her face. My fingers felt a raindrop. I looked up. The sun was shining. There were no clouds. The sky was clear. .

“Miiya, you are crying!”

There were no words. She didn’t open her eyes. Her fingers tightened on mine for a second, and slackened.

I kissed her face, my lips lingering, lingering on her tear-drenched cheek.

*

I wanted to find the cave with Cillo’s body. I wanted to bury Miiya and Cillo side by side.

But the cliff path was gone, washed away by the wave. The wave had also changed the shape of the cliff. It was now near vertical. It was inaccessible. At least from the sea-side.

We found a little dale at the edge of the Mere, where a stream emerged from the forest and ran into the sea. A place of grass and wild flowers, sheltered by a single damin tree, its long satiny leaves a perfect backdrop for the tiny purple fruits.

We buried Miiya there.

Grief welled within me and I allowed it free rein. Miiya, Cillo, Papa, Karila... So many lives lost. So many deaths to grieve.

*

She summoned me.

The voice was deep, and unfamiliar. I jumped up and looked around. Nothing had changed. There was no new presence. I was still in the grove, still huddled by Miiya’s grave, still alone except for Sabha and Seedevii.

It’s me.

I looked at Sabha. His tawny eyes gazed back at me.

Jubi, you can hear me.

I closed my eyes and covered my ears. Sometimes in the slave colony, when I was lying on the floor, used and broken, I would hear mama and Papa, the songs they sang when they put me to sleep.

Perhaps I was hallucinating again. Perhaps I was going mad.

Don’t be daft, woman. This was another voice; sharp like a well-honed blade. You can hear the wolf’s thoughts in your mind. I think you can hear me too, if that inane expression on your face is anything to go by. The words ended with a cackle.

I tried to speak, but my tongue had turned into a flame of ice inside my mouth.

Speak with your mind. Don’t need a tongue for that. A brain would do, assuming you have one of course.

I don’t understand.

Ah, that’s the way. See it is not difficult. As for understanding, well neither do I. Don’t think the wolf can enlighten you either. We need her to explain this. The bird’s voice broke for a second. For some reason you can reach into our minds and we can reach into yours.

But? How?

Stop asking silly questions, woman. This gift might last or it might not. Use it while it’s there, instead of babbling nonsense.

I gulped. The bird was right.

The cackle startled me. Of course I’m right. I generally am.

This must be the way babies learned to walk, slow, tentative, scared, but also eager. I stumbled, and stalled and suddenly felt it, Sabah’s mind, a whorl of colors, warm yellow, bright blue, with touches of brown. Full of affection. Full of concern.

Why did she summon you?

She said you’ll need me.

I think she knew how it would end. Wanted to give you an extra reason to live.

That was the bird. I reached out, this time more sure of what I was doing, and found his mind. Red like blood, white like ice; angry and sharp.

I’m sorry.

I could feel the softening of the red and the white. I know you are.

I will do what she wanted me to. It’s just that...

It’s hard. Sabah’s mind embraced mine. But you are not alone.

No. I could feel the bird’s hesitation. She wanted me to be around too. Asked me before she died. His mental shrug was as clear in my mind as if my eyes could see it. What are you going to do?

My eyes moved, from the forest to the sea. There was Draca beyond the forest, and the world beyond the sea.

I’ll have to make a decision, pick a path, soon. But not right now. This was grieving time. I needed to deal with what I had lost, if I was to find a reason to live.

I choked back the tears and settled myself besides Miiya’s grave. Sabha sat next to me, his warm presence a barrier against the pain that weighted down on my heart, like a boulder upon boulder, Miiya, Cillo, Karila, and Papa. Betrayal doesn’t kill love, not always.

The bird’s voice pricked my mind. Do you want to know how I met Cillo?

Yes.

The bird began. I listened, my arm round Sabha. And realized that I too had a story.

Stories mattered. Everyone had a story, and every story deserved to be told. Stories helped you to see and feel other lives, not just lives you loved and liked, but also lives you feared and hated, or were indifferent to.

Perhaps that was a way to keep the beast in us weak and chained, a way to cleave to the human condition even in inhuman times.