The Uncrucified [BETA] - Ch. 7 - The Waterbearer's Grave

Author's Note: Well, it took me nearly a year to get back in the writing action, but I AM back and I'm glad to be here!  Camp NaNoWriMo has always been a good spur for my Writing Muse, even if I wasn't able to participate every day in July.

The final part of this arc in Gem has flowed out of the proverbial stylus!  The next chapter is already ready to be posted and will be live next week.  Let's keep up the momentum!  Is anyone still reading?  Shout out in the comments and let me know you're alive!  Every little bit of encouragement (even just knowing you guys are lurking here) helps keep an author going.

RATING:  PG-13

- Suggestive content.

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Kalara sighed deeply as she paused a block before Old Lady Tehsun’s stall in the market and tightened her shawl across her face, fidgeting nervously.  What on earth was she doing here?  She’d barely gotten any sleep, her mind racing with the unpleasant possibilities in her future in Farook’s household that were nearly as unpleasant as the possibilities of associating with an idiot jewel thief.  

The memory of Ragol’s breath still on her neck when she woke up that morning and his attentive gaze as she prepared breakfast was enough to drive her to this foolish meeting.  She’d slipped away under the guise of her usual chores, which Farook never watched too carefully while he pursued his own toils in the workshop.  Ragol had thankfully excused himself to his own business, no doubt to find an open gambling house or opal den.

When Djali spotted her, his face lit up and he stuffed the entirety of a half-eaten stick of roasted goat into his mouth and waved her over excitedly.  Kalara suppressed another sigh before heading over to him, only to be immediately greeted with the offering of goat on a stick.

“Don’t say anything, just enjoy this perfectly seasoned meat!”

He always knew how to distract her from her chidings.  The offering of yogurt and spice smothered meat saved him from an immediate verbal thrashing as he guided them into a side alley hidden away from the prying eyes of passersby.  From a hidden cache he produced a pair of dark glass shades and placed them on her face before she could protest.  Next, he pulled out a white cloak, flaring it out and laying it over her shoulders, then set about wrapping her scarf correctly for her so that it wouldn’t be lost to the wind.

Kalara only stared at him while he set about his strange work, eating her kabob slowly.  “You have until I finish this last bit to explain what in Creation you’re up to…”

“You want to see the sun, don’t you?  Trust me, you’ll be thankful of all this when we’re in the Sun Market!”

“HA!  The Sun Market!”  She laughed at first, but then she couldn’t help but wonder. “…can you really get us into the Sun Market?”  She’d heard low talk of the place in the main street bazaar.  It was the place where sorcerers found virgin’s tears for their rituals, where one could buy the most dangerous delicacies, where the great Kolar’s eyes did not deign to look.  When most of the citizens of the upper levels hid from the sun during the hottest part of the day, those eager souls who braved the heat could find their black market desires fulfilled in the Sun Market.  Even if it was only the surface of the caldera the city was nestled in, it was still a layer above the underground she’d lived in for the better part of her life.  The notion of visiting intrigued her, even while her common sense screamed in the back of her mind.

Pleased with his work, Djali ignored any protests and waved her onwards with a glint in his eye and a self-assured dazzle of a smile.  “Come, come!  All will be revealed!” 

Kalara begrudgingly followed him as he ducked through unfamiliar alleys to the outer lava tubes.  A lump of nervousness caught in her throat at a sudden flash of emotion.  Had it been so long ago that they had been doing this very same thing to escape to the city?  Surely someone would stop them again.  Surely horrible consequences awaited. 

Certain of his path, Djali led ever onwards till they reached a small dim entryway where a city sentry leaned.  Just beyond him lay an access way with footfalls meant for maintenance workers to reach the upper mine paths that wound throughout the caldera.

“My man!” Djali smiled and tossed him a coin in one smooth motion. “Say hello to Rajina for me.  Buy her something nice!”  He winked, pulling Kalara by the hand before she had time to ask any questions about the exchange.

“He’s an old friend from the waterbearers.” Djali explained as they briskly surmounted the foot paths before anyone questioned their easy passing.  “His sister has a bad injury.  Foot crushed from a cave in.  Needs constant looking after, which means constant bills…oof!”  He grunted as he pulled himself up by each handhold.  Maybe she was right about the sweets getting to him after all.  He peered back to check how Kalara was fairing, but was pleased to find her surmounting the footfalls with relative ease.

“Uh huh…and how big was this poor sweet sister’s breasts?”  She called up to him, feigning doubt in Djali’s noble motives.

“Heh…such facts do not affect my generosity.” Djali returned with half-feigned reverence. “Besides, is that a hint of jealousy I detect?” He asked without looking back at her.

“Pftt…” Kalara’s eyeroll in response was almost audible, but her lack of a retort was almost an answer.  For a moment, they were children again, the two playfully sniping at one another like they used to before they’d been separated.  Anything to make the hard climb go faster and soothe her nerves.

As they surmounted the edge that opened out into the rocky shadows of the caldera’s great rim, the light that fell across her vision nearly blinded her even with the aid of the shades Djali had provided.  A great bowl of black rock stretched out around them, capped by a blistering white expanse of sky.  The skeletons of dilapidated houses pocked the miniature plateaus tucked inside the massive bowl.  At the heart of the cluster of houses, a gathering of banners and canopies flapped in the wind, a beacon of color amidst a ruin of gray that shimmered in the wind with the heat.

Kalara hummed a lullaby absent-mindedly as she soothed herself, thinking of half-forgotten lyrics of the sun’s gaze, life-giving and unforgiving at once.  So this was the sunlight she had imagined all her life, that she’d sketched on the wall of her bunk when she dreamed of the world beyond Gem, beyond the city-volcano.  In the middle of the caldera, the spire of the Despot’s palace rose even here, thrusting skywards from deep underground, a massive construction of polished stone carved and kept by generations of craftsmen.

It was beautiful for a few fleeting moments in the shade until the heat of the exposed landscape under the oppressive noon sun made it unbearable.  She felt like she was cooking in her clothes in a stew of her own sweat and juices.

And this wasn’t even Ascending Fire, yet!  She felt a pang of pity for the poor souls they passed huddled in the withered cities filled with citizens of Gem who couldn’t afford the more temperate housing below in the mountain’s lava tubes.  Every year, they held prayer mass after each Ascending Fire to soothe the souls of those who died from sheer exposure in droves or caught a plague from the lack of cleanliness and infrastructure in the haphazard construction of the upper slums.

Not unlike the faceless veiled bodies that she remembered as her mother and father. 

The smells and heat of this place lit a small ember of memory and she shuddered, chilled to the bone even in the heat.

Thankfully, there was plenty to distract Kalara’s mind from weary memories once they neared the market.  The shade of the canopies barely offered any respite, but that didn’t seem to bother Djali.  He sauntered confidently onwards, chatting casually with the merchants along the way.  He had done this many times.  The canopies of the stalls blocked out the light, each stall enclosed by thick hanging carpets acting as makeshift walls against the bright and the wind.  Each one held a different wonder.

In one purple tint with gold tassels, Kalara spied a woman with tattooed hands selling all colors of vials and scarves.

“This one is for love…and this one is for a painful death!  You never know when you will be in need of both.”  She winked at Kalara as she passed, her blue eyelashes fluttering, the peddler covered in sheer cobalt blue wraps that covered the lower half of her face accentuating the heavy khol around her eyes.

Finally, it seemed Djali had found who he was looking for in a stall somewhat removed from the others. An old man sat amongst a myriad of glass vials filled with a light yellow fluid smoking a pipe.  He wore a pair of black glasses, one lens left out as it sat above an eye covered completely by his turban, the other eye bright and attentive under the remaining lens.  He perked up immediately when he spotted Djali, puffing his pipe enthusiastically before greeting him with a grunt that seemed to bely his twinkling eye.

“Aaah venerable grandfather!  You are looking well!” Djali spread his arms wide, though the merchant only huffed in greeting and spat black tar onto the ground.  Meanwhile, Kalara was gawking in disgust as she realized the merchant was selling re-purposed urine as drinking water.

“Aww..but I am happy to see you.  I’ve brought you a present today, as promised.  Something to ease your twilight years.”  From his cloak, Djali produced a plain pouch, dumping an assortment of hard candies into his palm.  He held one up to the light as he spoke.

“This one I hear will bring pleasant dreams and also tastes of peach.”  The sun glinted through the candy, a brilliant flash of light catching in the exceedingly lovely piece of crystalline sugar.

Kalara’s jaw dropped.  No…he couldn’t have done this.  It couldn’t be that simple.

“And this one tastes of nectarine and will warm your bones at night, but you may want to keep it in the wrapper so it doesn’t melt.  Once our ‘cousins’ have a taste of this stock. I’d be happy to deliver more delights!”

Kalara continued to watch, lucky that the scarf and turban around her head hid her slackjaw as Djali passed the bag of extremely illegal gems hidden inside of simple candies to the merchant, who in return slipped him small bags of what she assumed was compensation.  Djali deftly counted and bit each metal piece before nodding and slipping them away into his robes.  When the merchant’s one good eye turned to her, suspicious at having a witness, Djali interceded swiftly.

“My assistant.  Don’t pay him any mind.  He’s a mute simpleton, but he’s good at carrying things.”  At that, Djali tossed her a small, but weighty bag she barely managed to catch on such short notice.  Keeping up the act, Kalara nodded and bowed sheepishly without answering, thankful that Djali had thought far enough ahead not to tie her in any way to this very exceedingly illegal transaction of Kolar’s precious gems.  First, by covering her from head to toe, and second by not referring to her true gender at all.

The old man,whom Djali addressed as Larz, seemed pleased as far as she could tell, but didn’t buy the entire stock at once. “Bring more tomorrow. I’ll have more currency then once our ‘cousins’ hear of your reliability as a…dutiful family member.”

And with that, they had sold a bag of unmarked gems belonging to their illustrious ruler, the divine Kolar III. 

Kalara waited until they were a distance away from the market before the flurry of panicked questioning began.

“Are you out of your small mind?? Candy?”  She flailed an arm in frustration.

“Tsh tsh! Calm down or you’ll look suspicious.” Djali quieted her with a casual hand wave, Kalara falling in line behind him, even though she was equal parts seething and stewing beneath her clothing as they made their way back to the workman’s path.  She had been admittedly curious before, but now she had returned to her previous assumption that he was being incredibly foolish.  There was no time to bid farewell to the wonder of the Sun Market, no time to think about the sad state of things anymore.  Djali had gone insane!

“What will you do if they catch him and make him talk?”  She interrogated from the footfalls as they descended.

“Shoosh! We’ll talk more when we get down. The sound carries too far in this tunnel.  Tunnels have ears!”

Oh she could just strangle him at being shooshed, but she managed to stay quiet until they were right at the bottom.

“You know the penalty is death…or worse! You can’t be that stupid, Djali.  Think!”  She was stepping off the final slope, her gaze fixed on him as she tried to explain what would happen if he stayed on this path.  She ran into him as he snapped to a sudden stop, quickly raising a hand to quiet her.

But it was too late.  The sentry who manned the passage had noticed them..and it wasn’t Djali’s old acquaintance!

“You there!”  The guard sprang into action immediately, a spear trained on Djali who had placed himself squarely in front of Kalara.

Djali immediately shifted into a non-threatening pose with his hands open and raised. “Ho, friend!  We’re just passing through from the mark—”  He didn’t have time to finish before he found himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and pressed into a wall face first, a couple of the bags he had on his person went falling to the floor, spilling the remainder of the candies, for all to see.  “You, stay where you are!  Nobody was scheduled to go through this passage today.”  The guard barked at Kalara too, who had frozen like a wild animal, her heart beating in her ears.

The gems were right there for all to see, for anyone to discover.  It would only take one of them to crack or be mistakenly eaten or inspected too closely!  Then they were dead, both dead.  Boiled alive.  Tossed in a pit.  Hung before the Despot’s entire court! 

Before Kalara could even process the words, she blurted out a firm yell.  “How dare you, unhand him!”  She feigned indignation with the sudden courage of a thousand envisioned executions, pulling off her scarf to reveal her shawl and hair, despite the fact the shades still being on her person no doubt made her look ridiculous.

“This is the kitchen boy of chef Atin al Zabas ahn Talan and you’ve just interrupted the private delivery of special ingredients from the Sun Market! You dare!  Buffoon!”  Kalara spoke with the heated indignation of a thousand unruly customers she’d watched in the market and with the knowledge she’d gleaned from countless days of people-watching at her favorite stall.  Atin al Zabas ahn Talan was known far and wide for his delicacies cooked in the open air of the marketplace and delivered to all manner of nobles and merchants, even the Despot, himself.  He was known for his strange demands and even stranger ideas, like yogurt-smothered goat encased artfully in gelatin that one could only eat at sunset.

She spoke with such conviction that she believed it in that moment.  Djali was now Atin al Zabas ahn Talan’s kitchen boy and she, his assistant overseeing the transaction and delivery.  She was familiar enough with the vendors from her previous experience in food runs for Spinel and for Farook to sell the act.

She must have seemed quite believable because the guard looked from her to Djali, who had also been struck silent by her sudden exposition, then stepped away, letting him up.  Why else would two people be carrying around so much candy and money from the Sun Market?  Any other explanation than what she provided made no sense or was too simple.

“Aah..a misunderstanding I’m sure!”Djali dusted himself off and smiled non-chalantly in his pleasant, easygoing manner.  “The previous sentry was fully aware of our passing.  He had an emergency, perhaps?”

The guard nodded, lowering his weapon.

“No harm done then!” Djali bent to pick up his belongings, pretending not to be panicked at the sight of the gems out in the open while Kalara kept the guard distracted.

“No harm??? This fool nearly cost Atin al Zabas ahn Talan several most magnificent delicacies to such a foolish thing as dirt!”  She kept rambling on, blinding the confused guard with what was becoming incomprehensible indignation the longer they went on.  Eventually, the poor young man excused himself, bowing, and letting them pass.

“I will keep your name from his blacklist!”  Kalara shouted after him as he left.

Once he was gone and they were alone, Djali erupted with laughter. “Hoo that was too close!”

“Yes, it was!”  Kalara wasn’t laughing as she whipped around, shoving a finger into his face.  “Take your damned money, it’s obviously worse than your life!”  She shoved the bag he’d tossed at her earlier into his chest and stormed off.  She’d had enough of reunions, sunlight, and foolish plans for a lifetime in one day!

Though she had to admit to herself as she walked away, the adrenaline pumping through her and the sheer fact that she could spin such a wildly stupid lie felt good and she cracked a small smile she made sure to hide from him on their way back. 

*

Kalara let out a massive sigh of relief as she threw herself down on the chair in Djali’s lair, not caring that it was his spot.  She sat with her fingers steepled, saying nothing and nervously tapping her index fingers against her chin.

“I’m in the shit now, aren’t I?”  Djali offered.  There came no reply.  The tapping continued.

“Admit it…you’re impressed.”  Djali prodded, inching closer and kneeling in front of her, his hands settling on her knees, testing his safety and keeping in mind the escape routes if his hunch was incorrect.

“And you were amazing!”  He beamed proudly.  “Just like old times!”

She couldn’t hold back the smile.  “You…ass.  This is no time to think of something stupid like that!”  It was too late for him to dodge the pillow attach that smacked him upside the head.  The satisfying whack it made against his skull set her to laughing and cursing at the unreality of it all.  “My gods and Dragons and hells…we really stole from Kolar!  Hey-!”

Caught off guard, she squeaked when Djali retaliated by lifting her up by the waist and swirling her around.  “You see?” He laughed at her amused panic and set her down, bringing his hands up to her cheeks.  “We’re together again, this means we can do it!  We’re a team!”

The feel of his calloused hands on her cheeks felt nice, a gentle touch instead of a dreaded one.  She closed her eyes to savor it, wishing against everything within herself that she could be lost in that enthusiasm, in that touch, forever in that single moment without acknowledging the cruel logic of a world that moved inexorably around them.

“I can buy your contract.  Don’t you see?  I’ll buy your contract and we’ll take a caravan far away from here.  We’ll see the glass towers of Chiaroscuro.  We’ll swim in the blue bay!”  Djali studied her face as she sighed, still smiling, hopeful,…until she spoke again.

“Djali…no.”  Her hand covered his and her eyes opened, searching his.  “This is foolish.  This is suicide…and I can’t watch you die again.  Don’t you understand?  Isn’t this better?  I can still visit…”

Her words seemed like a slap and his easy smile fled as he pulled back, turning away from her to lean against the cave wall with one arm as he stared into the space between the stones.  He was silent a few long moments where she thought he would send her away.

“No, suicide is staying where I am.  I will not be another faceless body in a shallow grave.  Better to try for greatness than die like…that.”  The tenseness of his shoulders belied a horrible memory she could read in his body language. 

“…every time a waterbearer fell, they’d dig a hole beside the path and throw them in.  They’d light a candle, say a word, if someone even remembered your name.”  There came a long sigh drawn from somewhere deep within that memory.  “I want to die on my feet trying to be somebody!”

The change in demeanor shocked Kalara silent for a long while. Neither of them spoke.  It seemed that silence would last forever until he felt the warmth of her embrace and her arms wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his back.

“Promise me one thing, Kallie, if I can’t convince you to come with me.”  He was half serious, half joking again.  “We’ll be rich when we find each other in the next life, eh?”  They both laughed half-heartedly, Kalara holding him a moment longer.

“Don’t you have to go soon?  Your master will get suspicious…” Djali sighed, resigned to the fate that he’d either need more time to convince her or simply not wanting her to go at this moment in time, or both.

“Djali…” Kalara pulled him softly by one wrist so that she could look him in the eye.  When he turned to her, longing, confusion, and frustration twisted in his features, she couldn’t help but smile.  She knew she wanted to stay, that she wanted him to be the one to take from her what Ragol or any master was due to in her near future.  She only hoped he wanted the same.

“…he doesn’t own me right here.  Right now.  This is what I choose right now.  This is my fate right now.”  She kissed him.  Deeply.  Not letting a breath escape between them.

And with that kiss, the world and its logic began to melt away, the both of them lost in the idea of each other they had been aware of, but not quite sure of until that moment.  Djali pulled her to him, certain he’d never let her go.  They found themselves fumbling foolishly, passionately, lost in the mass of pillows in Djali’s makeshift kingdom.

For that brief time, they enjoyed a world inhabited by the two of them, their bodies their own and each other’s at once.  For that brief time, they knew a freedom they had never known before in their brief lives.

When the sound of prayers and bells ringing in sundown filtered down to them sometime later, Kalara awoke with a start.  She’d be late for sure!  The momentary panic subsided at the sight of Djali’s contented smile on his sleeping face.  A real, genuine smile.  Not an easy or a fake one.  The oaf was fast asleep after their short, but enthusiastic lovemaking, his wavy hair a mess and a line of drool down the side of his chin.  She planted a kiss on his forehead and said her farewells.

“I have to go back, but I’ll see you tomorrow, buffoon.  Maybe then we can work on a better plan if you insist on doing something so dangerous.”

A grunt and half mumbled. “Right” served as acknowledgment.  Kalara let her hand linger on his cheek a moment longer before gathering her things and dashing down the tunnel.  She knew the way this time, knew how to find him again tomorrow.  A small glimmer of something unknown bloomed in her heart - hope.

Perhaps he could buy her contract in time if they were very careful?  If they only took small things, perhaps nobody would notice?  They could leave to Paragon, where even slaves could be given property and money if they pledged their love to the city. Or perhaps Chiaroscuro?  She’d always wanted to see the city of glass and the wide plain of gold they said was in the middle of it.

A thousand small plans and possibilities flashed through her mind as she went about her evening tasks gathering dinner ingredients. The laughter in the streets and festival lanterns reminded her it’d probably be a late night with Farook out gambling into the evening with his comrades, as was their custom for Plentimon’s Day. Masked revelers wearing effigies of the starry countenance of the Plentimon laughed and danced through the streets, creating a path of silver smiles for her way home. She smiled with them, an expression she hadn’t dedicated herself too in a long time.

They could be free, if luck was with them.

Reader Questions:

1. Was Djali's jewel heist believable?  I'm having a hard time thinking up an alternative.  I feel like something this stupidly clever fits him, but am curious if it throws you all out of your suspension of disbelief.
2. Is Kalara's chatty diversion of the guard to aid their escape believable?  I couldn't think of better ways to extradite them from the situation, while also giving Kalara a more active role in events.
3. How's my romance scene?  I feel like such a cheeseball writing it and I'm hoping I didn't get too saccharine or melodramatic with it!