Jackson was helping his mom set the table. She still had him doing every single chore—his siblings were loving it—even though his suspension had been over for a week. Just how long did she plan to keep this up?
He brought over the last of the silverware and then he was done. He started going to his bedroom, but his mom called him back.
"Jackson, you're not done yet. The casserole goes on the table," she said, gesturing to the stovetop.
Jackson trudged back to the kitchen. He just wanted to practice his meditation again. He had gotten really good at it. He estimated that it only took five seconds for him to enter The Interim mentally.
Getting there physically had been a challenge, but a few days ago he figured out a trick to it. Every night before Taft went to bed, he would tie a thin rope tightly to his finger.
That way, whenever he wanted to switch bodies, he could use the feeling of that rope—which was actually pretty annoying—to pull him into The Interim physically. It worked like a charm.
Jackson was still thinking about his meditation method when he grabbed the casserole on the stove. He started bringing it to the table and his mother screamed.
"Jackson, it's hot! Put that down! Put that down!"
In a panic, Jackson dropped the dish and shook his hand, as if burned. But there was no pain, he realized.
The tingling feeling was just leaving his hand. That was kovak. He'd forgotten he had that. And now there was casserole and shards of hot glass spread all over the kitchen floor. That was dumb of him.
Jackson's mom rushed over, tiptoeing around the mess. "Are you okay? What were you thinking? Why didn't you use the oven mitts? You were holding that thing for a good ten seconds."
She looked at Jackson's hand to see if there was any redness. "Well, it looks like you lucked out. Now clean up the mess. I guess we're not having a casserole tonight."
His mom might be ticked off, but Jackson was slightly happy to hear those words.
◄——————————————————►
Taft hopped out of bed. That must have been record time. Jackson had gone to bed at a regular time, but instead of waiting to fall asleep, he switched right over to Taft. It took maybe thirty seconds, at most.
He was proud of himself as he strutted to the wardrobe. He put away his night coat. It was getting colder every week in The Interim. He was worried that he might not learn Swelter before winter. When was Sairia going to teach him that?
Taft was doing well at using Spark. After a week of practice, he didn't need to hold Sairia's hand anymore. He found that thinking about hot surfaces to bring about the tingling feeling didn't actually work.
The trick was thinking about the cold, which seemed counterintuitive. But the colder it got outside, the easier it was for Taft to perform Spark. He only failed the skill about twenty percent of the time. It was tangible progress.
Taft opened the door and strolled to the main room. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen. More rations. When he entered, Sairia turned around. She was holding two plates. Sure enough, it was the same meal. Why would he ever expect anything different?
He sat down without her saying anything and elected not to bring up the topic of food. Last time, she told him he could cook. That shut him up for good.
"What are we starting with today?" Taft asked.
"Swordplay," Sairia said.
Taft groaned.
"What? Didn't you want to learn swordplay? A couple of weeks ago you were excited about it."
Taft ripped a piece of jerky and spoke. "I was, but all I ever do is watch you do swordplay. It's boring."
"Okay, kid, I get it. I just think it's important to get familiar with what sword forms look like, so that you're prepared to defend yourself."
"That's all well and good, but if I'm not familiar with a sword in my hands, what difference does it make? I can't even lift the thing! How am I supposed to defend myself?"
"Fair enough," she said, chewing on her bread. "We can go over basic swings to get you used to a sword. And build your strength."
Taft nodded quickly. "That's perfect," he said through a mouthful.
Taft finished his meal quickly after hearing Sairia's suggestion. Even if the food was almost impossible to chew. He gulped a bigger bite than he should have and almost choked, but pushed through it. He saw Sairia rolling her eyes. She ate her rations like it was no big deal.
When the meal was done, the two went out back where the sword stand was. Taft gripped a wooden sword and pulled it out. His shoulders sunk from the weight.
He hadn't picked the thing up since the first time he thought he would use it. It was even heavier than he remembered. Sairia picked up her own sword gracefully and faced him, holding the sword upright with two hands.
"Much like you observed with me, swinging a sword is all about how you use your body weight. Let the force of your shift transfer into the sword," Sairia explained.
Taft remembered some moves after watching Sairia a million times. He pulled the sword up and swung downward as hard as he could. It bounced off the ground and made his hands shake from the vibration.
The technique was different in practice. Harder than it looked.
"Wrong," she said. "You were using your arms to swing. Don't do that. You'll never get enough force to do any real damage that way. Now try again. Every mistake is—"
"A lesson learned. I know, I know," he said. He tried again, this time leaning into it. His sword didn't hit the ground this time, but he lost his balance and stumbled forward.
"Better, but when you follow through, your weight needs to be transferred in such a way that you don't lose your balance. In that particular swing, try moving to the left at the end. Again."
Taft's arms were already getting tired. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up. He lifted the sword again, and swung down, leaning into it and then finishing in a motion that let the sword flow to his left side.
The sword didn't bounce, and he didn't lose his balance, but his shoulders ached from that swing. It felt like his arms almost got ripped out of their sockets.
"Hold on," he said. "I think I did that one wrong. It puts too much stress on my shoulders."
"No, actually this time you did it perfectly."
Taft blinked in surprise. "Really? I thought for sure…"
"Your body just isn't strong enough yet. But with enough practice, you'll be one heck of a swordsman. Well done," Sairia said, giving a light clap.
Taft smiled. "Cool. So I should just repeat that move multiple times to get stronger? Like Mandiff? He drove a sword right through that Nasanite. He must be insanely strong!"
"Don't be so sure," Sairia said. "I mean—yes—Mandiff is strong. But the kind of strength you saw there—which I wish you hadn't seen—was done using kovak."
"That was kovak?"
"Yes, it was a skill called Augment. You've heard of rockets and jet engines in school, right?"
"A little. Like propulsion?" Taft guessed.
"That's right, kid. Augment is a skill that uses a small amount of propulsion on your body. With it, you can perform feats of strength you otherwise would never have been able to. The drawback is that it puts an incredible strain on your body. If you use too much propulsion, you can shatter your own bones. It's not pretty."
Taft made a face.
Sairia continued. "Mandiff has done a lot of strength training so that he can use Augment safely and effectively. It's kind of like his specialty. Most kovakirs and other warriors have one or two specialties. Something they dedicate their lives to perfecting. Like a career."
"What's your specialty?"
"I don't really have one anymore. And I'd rather not say what it used to be…," Sairia said, looking to the right. "Let me show you the other sword forms," she said, changing the subject.
"I think I've memorized them at this point," Taft said truthfully. He went through the forms as Sairia stood with a half smile on her face.
. . .
Taft was huffing in the chair. His arms were on fire—not literally, though. His muscles ached—he could feel his heartbeat making them pound even more.
He was okay with not going back to swordplay for a little while. At least, not until he could move his arms again.
He and Sairia were sitting at a table in the main room. There was a stack of books and notes. Taft already had sore shoulders, but now his wrist was killing him, too. He had written almost four pages of sentences.
Sairia said he still had a lot of work to do. That didn't make him feel any better. He read aloud the sentence he wrote down. Sairia complimented his pronunciation. They had been speaking only Ihmonic for almost a week straight, so it was only natural he would improve in that.
"The road runs west across the river. The ferry's down, but there's a bridge to cross just north of here," he repeated from the sentence he just wrote down.
"Great, now let's see how you wrote it," Sairia said, taking the page from Taft.
Taft was rubbing at his wrist while she examined it.
"Almost, but this letter here needs to switch because your conjugation is in present-tense, remember?" She said, pointing to a part of the sentence.
"Right, I just forgot. Most of my sentences are in past-tense."
"I know. But every mistake made is a lesson learned. I had to throw you a curveball."
"Thanks," Taft said condescendingly. Then he noticed Sairia staring at the grand staircase that led to the upper floor. They weren't allowed up there, per Sallion's rules.
"Did you go looking up there yet?" Taft asked.
"What?" She said, snapping out of her trance. "No… I'm thinking about it. There was something in the room I'm staying in that… disturbed me."
"What was it?"
"A chest. There were some old clothes in there. Women's clothes. Dresses and bonnets and what have you. But under it all there was something else."
"What?"
"A doll."
"A… doll? What's so disturbing about a doll?"
"The doll's eyes were gone. Carved out with a knife."
Taft shivered. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know yet. That's why I wanted to do some more investigating upstairs."
"So? Let's go. He'll never know we were there."
"I don't know, kid. We shouldn't be snooping around; it's not right."
"The guy's a creep. He's definitely up to something. I think Abshak would like to know more about something like that, don't you?"
"Maybe you're right…," she said. "Stay here. I'm going to do a quick check." She stood up and walked toward the stairs.
"Hey, wait. What about me?" Taft called out.
"Keep studying," Sairia said without turning around. "This should go smoother if I don't have to keep an eye on you."
Taft sighed and looked down at his notes, then went back to studying.
A few minutes later, Taft heard a sound coming from outside. He rushed to the nearby window and saw a wagon inside the property. There was a man closing the gate and locking it, using a key from his pocket.
He turned around. It was Sallion.
Now of all times? If he found out Sairia was upstairs…
Taft didn't even want to think about what would happen. He ran to the bottom of the stairs, trying to keep low so Sallion didn't see him through the window.
"Sairia," he called in a low voice. "Sairia, Sallion is here. He pulled up just now. Get down here quick!"
Taft heard the sound of the wagon approaching right outside the front door. He was out of time. He rushed back to his spot at the table, still keeping low.
When he sat down, he opened a book and started copying whatever he read, pretending to study. The door knob clicked and swung open.
"Hello, Alma Ni," Sallion said. A smile stretched across his face.
"Hello, Member Sallion," Taft said in his best Ihmonic. "Nice to see you. What brings you here?"
Sallion was slightly taken aback. "I see your training is going well, and in just two weeks."
It took a second to process what Sallion said. He was more used to Sairia's voice in Ihmonic at this point, and so the differences in tone and wording threw him off a little bit.
"Yes, Sairia is working hard."
"Where is Sairia?" The man asked while looking around the room.
"I'm not sure, I've been focused on my books."
Right then, Sallion shot a look straight at him. It was piercing, those red eyes. He looked down at the books on the table. "Right, well," he said, "what else has she been teaching you? I hope not to cause trouble…"
"What makes you say that?" Taft asked.
"Seems you don't know much about your teacher," he said. "Haven't you ever heard what they call her? Sairia the Scorned?"
"No, I haven't. Who is they?"
"Everyone! The goodfolk, the aristocrats, the reprants. The whole nation knows her as Sairia the Scorned. She is a disgrace."
"She's been nothing but wise and patient with me," Taft said defensively. Maybe too defensively.
"Fine, fine," Sallion said, raising his hands. "I understand young students always look up to their teachers. Just don't take all her words as law. Use your brain; I know it's a good one." He winked. "I have no interest in discussing her, anyway. I would much rather talk about you."
Taft shifted in his seat as Sallion walked closer.
"A being from another world! A lost soul that floated down here to bring us much knowledge. Simply fascinating. Tell me. What is it they call your home?"
Was he talking about Earth? Taft looked behind Sallion, at the stairs. Hurry up, Sairia.
Sallion looked back at the stairs as well.
Did Taft make it too obvious?
Sallion didn't take his eyes from the stairs and started walking toward them. He was entirely focused on them now.
Taft had to do something. "I uh… Member Sallion!" He called out.
Sallion wouldn't turn around. He started walking up the grand staircase.
Taft got up to see if he could get Sallion's attention better. "I was just wondering—"
"Hello, Member Sallion," said a voice from behind Taft. It was Sairia. She had somehow appeared from the kitchen.
Sallion stopped and turned. "Ah, there you are. Do you think it wise to leave the Alma Ni alone at any moment? I could have been an assassin. A Nasanite. I hope you do not shirk your responsibility."
"I apologize, Member," Sairia said bowing. "I was merely counting the food storage. We seem to be running low, and I would not want the Alma Ni to starve. Do you think you could have a new shipment of rations sent?"
"Rations—? Ah, that is not a fit meal for the young boy. I will have something better brought! Straight from The Heart!"
That would have made Taft happy, if it wasn't for the near heart attack he had just suffered.
"That will do," Sairia said. "How long have these food stores been here, I wonder? I am sure the Member did not forget to fill them before having the Alma Ni as a guest in his house."
Sallion stumbled on his words. "I— It— There was simply no time to fill them, I'm afraid. But I will have that done as soon as possible."
"Of course," Sairia said, bowing again. "And what brings you here, dear Member? How can we help you?"
"I told you that I would be visiting from time to time, so here I am. Though I also left an important item upstairs. That's why I was going up there now."
"We will stay out of your way, then," Sairia said humbly.
Sallion gave a condescending smile before turning around and walking up the stairs.
Taft watched the man as he went.
Did he suspect anything? Maybe he just needed to go up there. Taft turned around and looked at Sairia. "How did you—?"
"Window," she said quickly and quietly. "What was he talking to you about?" She said, still in a low voice.
"He mostly talked bad about you. Said you were a disgrace. Called you Sairia the Scorned."
"Is that all?"
Is that all? Wasn't she going to explain what Sallion was talking about? Taft frowned.
"Um… I think he asked me something about my home, but I was too worried about you. I accidentally looked at the stairs, and he started going up. Sorry…"
"He asked about your home? What exactly?"
"Wh— I mean I wasn't paying much attention. I think he was asking what it was called…"
Sairia's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't like that. You didn't tell him anything, did you?"
"No. Why?"
"It may be that he was just curious. In fact, it's likely he was. But when people start asking questions about The World Apart, I get a little nervous. Good job not telling him anything."
"Thanks, but why did he call you Sairia the Scorned. You mind explaining that to me?"
"Not now. I think he's coming down the stairs."
The steps creaked as Sallion walked down. Whatever he went to get must've been small enough to fit in his pocket, because he had nothing in his hands.
"I have it," he said. "Now, I'd like to supervise the training for a bit. Just to give a report to The Council, as you know."
"As you wish, Member," Sairia said. "I was just about to teach the Alma Ni how to use the Billow skill. Care to demonstrate?"
"Oh, no. I am only here to supervise," Sallion said dismissively. "You are the trainer, after all. Though I hope you don't plan to practice in here. Some of this furniture is very expensive, and I'd prefer them not to start smelling of smoke."
Taft looked back and forth between them. He was glad to understand what was being said. Sometimes he didn't understand a word or two, but he could use context to guess at what they were saying.
He certainly wasn't confused when Sairia mentioned he would be learning a new skill. His heart leaped. It was about time. He had all but mastered Spark at this point.
Sairia led them all out to the backyard. It seemed this skill was too intense to be used indoors. That made Taft even more excited. As they walked through the kitchen, Taft peeked to his side. At Sallion.
The man looked calm. He didn't seem to suspect anything. When they arrived outside, Sairia turned around and beckoned for Taft to join her on the dafka court—the large, rectangular area of dirt.
Taft walked up to her and saw Sallion stand back, staying off the court.
"Billow," Sairia explained to him, "is a useful skill when you need to stay out of sight or make a quick getaway. It's most often used when you are against an archer and want to block his view.
"However, if the archer knows the Sight skill, it may not make a difference, so beware. That goes the same for if you try to use it to run away. Observe."
Sairia took a few steps back and breathed in. Her chest inflated slightly, and her back straightened. Then she let all of her breath out at once.
At that moment, dark-gray smoke spewed from her nose and mouth in a flurry. It filled a circular space around her of about twelve feet in diameter.
Taft couldn't see anything in the cloud of smoke.
Sairia walked out of the smoke cloud, but it took a few minutes for the shroud to dissipate completely.
"That's Billow," she said.
Sallion gave a small clap which, to Taft, seemed condescending.
Sairia made a quick glance to Sallion before continuing the lesson. "To perform Billow, you must first activate kovak in your lungs, and then breathe in and increase the heat. Once it reaches a certain point, you breathe out as quickly as possible, and the smoke will come. Does that make sense?"
Taft scratched his head. "I… think I understand the part about directing kovak into my lungs. It's like… the tingling needs to go there, right? But how do I increase the heat? And how do I know when it gets to a certain point?'"
"Let's start with directing kovak, and then we'll talk about the other parts."
"Okay," Taft said. He activated kovak—in his hand, by instinct—and tried to move it. He could feel the tingling sliding up his arm, but it didn't leave his hand. It was spreading.
He stopped. "I could feel the tingling in my hand, but when I tried to direct it, it only spread. Like I could feel it on both my hand and my arm."
"That's not quite right. You shouldn't activate kovak in your hand, and then move it. You should activate it in your lungs to begin with."
"Right, um… let me try again," he said reluctantly. Taft tried to focus on the center of his chest. Kovak activated in his hand again and he turned it off. Again he tried.
This time he could feel the tingling on his throat. Progress. He tried once more. He felt it on his chest. "Okay, I think it's there," he said.
"Try breathing in now," Sairia directed.
Taft breathed in as much air as he could.
"Now let it out."
Taft breathed out, but no smoke appeared. "Dang it," he said in English. Then he looked at Sallion, who raised an eyebrow. Why was he still here? This was embarrassing.
"It looks like there was no kovak in your lungs," Sairia said.
"But I swear I could feel it right here," Taft said, touching his chest.
"I think you directed it to your chest… on the surface. Your lungs are inside you. Try breathing in and out and notice how your lungs feel. Once you know where they are, it should be easier directing kovak to it."
Taft breathed in and out in a rhythm. He could feel a movement within, especially his stomach area. He focused on that movement and activated kovak there.
He breathed in as much as he could. And let it out. As he breathed, he thought he caught a tiny puff of smoke. It was more like a whisp one might see when burning incense. Taft frowned.
"Good job," Sairia said. "You got the basics of it down. Now you just have to increase the heat."
"But how?" Taft asked.
"I'm sorry," Sallion interrupted. "I believe I have seen enough of the… 'progress' you have been making. I must return to my work."
"Shall we see you out, Member?" Sairia said, half bowing.
"No, no, thank you. You should continue training."
"Very well," she replied.
Sallion walked back to the kitchen and was gone.
"What did you see up there?" Taft asked Sairia.
Sairia held up a finger. She was silent. Listening. Then after a minute or two she turned to Taft. "It looked like most of the rooms were being used as storage.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Though I had only started searching when you called from downstairs. Then I had to find a way out," she said, pointing to a window on the second floor. "Maybe it's best to leave those rooms alone. It was too risky. Stay away from there, okay?"
"Okay," Taft lied.