The salty ocean spray splashed Konstan and Aiyra as they zipped across the bay, the craft darting up over the crest of each wave and deep down into its valley.
The wind whipped their faces as, laughing, they challenged one of the other teens to a race. They were having the time of their lives. No two had ever gotten along together as well as Aiyra and Konstan, it would seem, or so the other boys and girls observed.
The pair knew how to react to each other, without pretense, practice, or pain; and it was almost as though each instinctively knew what the other would say or do beforehand.
Eventually Konstan and Aiyra pulled away from the rest of the group with a mind to explore, waving to their new friends as they sped off towards the cliffs.
“So,” said Konstan, slowing down to a relaxing pace as the waves calmed, “how is your birthday so far, princess?”
Aiyra laughed to hear him calling her by the nickname Marc had given her.
“It is very nice,” she admitted. “I was afraid it would be too hard. I mean, not having my mother, yet having a real birthday, if you know what I mean. But I am so happy because I have my father. And now I have friends: you and Samantha.”
She looked around at the towering cliffs.
“I wish I had my mother,” she said thoughtfully. “Yet I know she’s still here with me, and she gave everything for me.”
She looked down at her hands and smiled to see a bracelet and ring woven of sea-grass and tiny seed pearls.
“See,” she said, raising her hand. “A’ma made these for me on my last birthday before they killed her.”
A shadow passed briefly over her face.
Konstan left one hand on the wheel, and leaning over, gently took her hand to inspect the bracelet. He squeezed her fingers.
“Well, you have plenty of memories, Aiyra,” he reminded her sympathetically. “Not the best, perhaps, as is only natural when you’ve spent almost your entire life as a slave.”
“Mm,” Aiyra agreed. “She always managed to give me good memories, though. She made my birthday seem special, and she never missed it, even if she was in pain. Oh, A’ma!” she breathed sorrowfully, and kissed the ring on her hand.
They continued in silence for a while, until Konstan began teasing her and cracking jokes to make her smile. Soon she was laughing again.
They rounded a pillar of rock that stood in the middle of the bay. It looked almost as though it had been an ancient church steeple, but now it was overgrown with moss and dotted with the deep rose, lavender, and white of sea-lavender blossoms, and lilies floated on the water. Konstan brought the waterspeeder nearer to the rock.
Aiyra leaned out and gathered the white blossoms that floated upon the water, and the purple and pink buds that fell among the moss. Her gaze fell to the water as she stooped over it.
While it acted like a mirror from a distance, here the water was clearer than crystal, and Aiyra could see many fathoms below. Shapes lay there, half-buried, among rocks and coral. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said that there was a fallen church wall, complete with a rose window, lying below her.
She paused and leaned closer to the water, noticed that the stones she was seeing scattered were arranged as though it had been a plaza long ago; yes, there was even a crushed fountain lying there, and a statue which seemed shockingly familiar despite the weathering on its face –
Aiyra jerked back into her seat with a gasp and such a start that Konstan had to shift his weight to balance the hovercraft.
“Aiyra?” Konstan asked, noting her wide eyes.
Aiyra turned and looked out over the landscape around them. The bay was calm now, and the waves lapped against the narrow shoreline ahead of them, lying at the foot of those ancient cliffs. The girl leaned her head back and stared at the uneven summit. A low moan escaped her lips.
Konstan turned her to face him, fearing she was ill.
“Aiyra, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you want me to take you back?”
Aiyra shrank against his shoulder as her breath shivered.
“No,” she whispered. “I need to go up the cliffs, Konstan.” She raised her eyes to his face. “Please?”
The youth hesitated, glancing behind them at the harbor.
“Alright,” he said finally. “But I’ll call Samantha and let her know. Are you sure you’re alright?”
The girl looked at him.
“I will be. Like I always have to be.”
Frowning, Konstan called Samantha on his com watch. There were a few beeps before Samantha’s voice finally came over.
“Hey there, little brother. What’s up?”
“Aiyra needs me to take her up the cliffs for something,” he replied. “Let the captain know, please, if you’re still together.”
There was a moment’s pause.
“We were together,” Samantha answered finally, “until just a minute ago. I left him in a courtyard, and I thought he would be coming along in a minute, but he’s gone now. Look, I’m heading back to the harbor so I can keep an eye out for both of you. I’ll call him as soon as I can pick up the signal on his watch. Be careful, both of you!” she warned. “I know he trusts you, Konstan, but going up the cliffs is a little more than I think he’d like.”
“I have to go,” Aiyra repeated. “Please, Konstan. A’da will understand why when I tell him. I have to.”
Konstan sighed and relayed the message.
“I’ll have her back in about an hour,” he told the engineer. “See you later, sis.”
He snapped off the link and turned to Aiyra. Seeing that she would not change her mind, he started up the motor and took her to the shoreline.
Twenty minutes later, having found a rocky path lined with bright tumbling hidara flowers on the other side of the headland, the pair found themselves at the top of the cliffs. The wind was strong here, whipping Aiyra’s dark hair around her face as she looked out over the bay. She turned and struggled down the remnants of a wide pathway.
It seemed that this headland used to be crowned with a low wall and cobblestone pavement, with a raised dais that had crumbled into the sea. Now, straggling olive trees and seagrass strangled the ruins, and birds made their nests in the cracks of the walls.
Before them rose the weathered form of a castle. It had been so eroded and buffeted by the waves, and evidently torn by fire and storm, that it seemed to have sprouted from and fallen back into the cliffs themselves.
Aiyra took no notice of fallen statues and cracked columns, but struggled through hanging vines and over collapsing walls as though she had passed that way many times before. These seemed to be the ruins of ancient hanging gardens, for unknown herbs and flowers grew recklessly wherever they could among the stones.
Konstan followed her swiftly, wishing that Aiyra would slow her breakneck pace while he tried to clear some of the swinging vines out of the path.
He finally caught up to her in the looming shadow of a ruined throne room that overlooked the sea. The glass was missing from the windows, and patches of the sky could be seen through the collapsing roof. Mosaics were half-hidden beneath centuries of dirt and dust, and threadbare tapestries clung to the walls, their tatters blown in the breeze.
A weather-beaten throne stood at the far end of the hall. A mere few paces before it stood a statue of a warrior, as if thrusting his sword into an enemy pinned at his feet.
Aiyra halted and stared at this statue. The waves roared faintly below them. Slowly, hesitating every step, the girl went forward and looked at the sword’s blade, for it was real. A dark stain remained there, as though it had begun to rust, or perhaps it had been used to strike and not been cleansed. . . .
Minutes ticked by. When Aiyra didn’t move, Konstan touched her shoulder. The girl jumped in shock and stared into his eyes, her breath rapid.
“Aiyra! What is it?”
“They killed my mother here!”
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Intriguing story. Great illustration. True teamwork. Fabulous!