.3.
Morning found me alone in the quarters. Once I was awake, I was wide awake, and I rolled over on my side to look at the pocket watch, still on the floor. It was only six in the morning, Montressor time. I'd had about only three hours of sleep. But by the light coming in through the hatch and the heat that hung in the air, it seemed like mid-morning. I quickly washed up, pulled on my boots, and ran up the steps, Marko still on my mind.
The ship was empty except for Lakan, who was just coming aboard again. There were dark circles under his eyes. I doubted he'd slept at all, and with Lalita's shorter days, I doubted any of us would get a good night's sleep for a while. He smiled wanly at me and hoarsely greeted me good morning. I apologized for sleeping in.
"That's all right, Aaren," he said. "You should enjoy what sleep you get around here."
I smiled. "Don't you think then, Lakan, that you should go to bed?"
In midstretch, he laughed. "Even the Lalitans have told me that. They sent me back onboard, saying that they won't let me help till I'm well-rested." He yawned. "I put Marko in charge." I froze, and he gave me another wry smile. He sighed, sat down to lean back against the mast, and closed his tired eyes. "He tells me everything, you know."
The memories of the earlier morning were more vivid now, and I choked. I remembered how afraid he'd looked when he'd first torn the book away from me. I remembered how it had taken him a few more moments than usual to regain his composure, his hardened glare. I remembered how he'd made me the object of that chilling gaze, and how tired he'd looked. I remembered that in his eyes, there had been something besides fury and scorn, and I'd been afraid to give it a name...
Back beneath the hot Lalita sun, I looked at Lakan with his head against the mast. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, because I hadn't wanted to remember the whole thing, and I clenched my fists at my sides. "Why did you give me the book, Lakan?" I whispered.
He didn't answer for a while. I thought he'd fallen asleep, and I suddenly felt like screaming in anger at him. Why did he give me the book? Why did it make Marko act differently? What was I supposed to do about it? Why? Why? Why...?
He gave a tired sigh and pressed his fingers to his temples. "Aaren," he said simply, matter-of-factly, like a teacher exasperated with his pupil, "when I gave you those books, I meant you to read them and to learn something. That is all."
I felt my own frustration and anger welling up in me, and if I could have, I would have lunged at Lakan and torn him apart, right there. But Dad had always told me to curb my temper, to respect my superiors, and to just be a good girl. "That is all," he'd said. It infuriated me. I sat down and closed my eyes, too. It was all I could do from screaming.
"Aaren," Lakan said sternly, speaking for the last time, "You've had more sleep than I have, but you're crankier than me. Get off the ship already and report to Marko for orders."
I opened my mouth to protest, but then I saw that he was truly asleep now, still leaning against the mast, his brow still furrowed in anxiety.
I did as Lakan said and got off the ship. The crew was not nearby; I had to take one of the confiscated solar surfers to the blue mountains in the distance. There, Marko and the First Mate were supervising the digging of a cave shelter. I hopped off the solar surfer and took a deep breath. "Marko, I - "
"Good morning, Aaren," he said, cutting me off. "Today you're going to help Maggie and Sorula redivide the food." And that was it. I stared at him for a moment. He seemed preoccupied with the digging and the operations, but I knew that beneath the surface, there was something else going on. I sighed and then turned to Maggie and Sorula.
Sorula had glittering, beady, maroon eyes set in the sides of her head. Like I said before, Lalitans resembled shiny black lizards that walked upright. On their back, in what I thought were random places, were patches of brightly colored fur, the shades of which seemed to vary with every Lalitan. Sorula caught my curious glance and smiled, if lizards could smile. I got in line next to her and helped with the divisions.
Her voice was like a strange, velvety purring as she spoke, but her accent was faint. "The color and location of each bit of our fur tells others what kind of beings we are... Our souls color it as we grow." I raised an eyebrow at Maggie, who shrugged. "Blue and violet, like your eyes," Sorula said to me, "mean contentment; that all is well. Blue was the color of our grass, as it is the color of this mountain, before the Scabrous appeared." She gestured up at the mountainside, and my eyes followed her outstretched claw. Against the blueness were Marko and the others, and I shook my head and tried to focus on my own work. I tried to remember if I'd already put the right number of noodle packs in the crate before me.
"Pink is for innocence, and I am happy that many a child here still runs with those bright streaks on its back... Black is for anger or hatred. You will not find many of us with black fur here; we are a people of peace. Green is for pain or sadness," Sorula continued. Her voice reminded me of a longboat ride my father once told me about. The pace was constant, the world around was clear, and the trip seemed to stretch on forever...
"When I first saw your people," she said, "I thought your eyes could color like we do." I gave her a questioning look, and she stretched out her claw again to point at Marko. "His eyes are green," she said simply. I stared. "But I was wrong," she continued, "because your eyes are violet, when they should be green as well..."
I snorted and looked away, just as Marko glanced at me. I looked at Sorula then and saw that amid streaks of blue and violet were patches of orange and yellow. "What kind of soul are you?" I asked coolly.
She smiled her lizard smile. "An orange or yellow soul is wizened and empathetic. I can feel what others feel, and so I know what color you are." She cocked her head and gave me a hard stare. "Pink," she said, blinking suddenly, "and green. But perhaps yellow as well..."
She didn't tell me any more after that, though I knew there was a myriad of colors to go through. Now, as we worked, Sorula's words mingled with the thoughts in my mind. Her thoughts on Marko's eyes only matched the "pain" and "sadness" I'd seen in them earlier. And to know that she could sense what I felt was unnerving, and I knew she sensed my unease.
Suddenly, a question came to mind, and there was nothing I could do to stop it from leaving my mouth.
"What color is Marko?" I blurted out.
I later learned that the sound she'd made was a laugh, a series of clicks and purrs in her throat. She smiled again at me and answered, "Green, yes. Also pink, like you. Also blue-green, I think turquoise. Also like you."
Marko then called out that we should bring the crates into the cave, before I could ask her what blue-green meant, before I could ask her why it was "also like me".
.Author's Note.
The fur color assignments don't necessarily correspond with our own standards of what colors mean.
I went back through my story and realized that I'd changed Marko's eyes from green to blue, like his father's, somewhere in the middle. Oops. Well, it aided the icy aura he wanted, but as the story progresses, I'll be changing it back to green...
Since the last chapter, there's been nothing but pile upon pile of schoolwork. Yikes. I'll wait for the summer, I guess.