Rise of Keitus (12 page)

The Makalos in the garden soon caught wind of the bad news, and started wailing as they left their posts. The sound brought Kevin and Aloren out of the large hut where they’d been teaching English.

“What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

Jacob took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Brojan got attacked by a Molg. He—he’s gone now.”

“Oh, no!” Aloren’s eyes filled with tears.

Jacob looked away. She’d known Brojan for less time than he had, but she knew the correct response. It made him feel weird.

Aloren looked at Kevin, grabbing his hand. “Can we go see Kenji and Ebony? They’ll need comforting, and I’m sure they’ll want help taking care of things.”

Kevin nodded and the two of them left Jacob alone. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not.

Jacob continued wandering the mostly empty gardens. Leaving wasn’t a good idea in case someone needed him, but being around the mourning people right now would be hard to handle. And it would be difficult to hide the fact that he wasn’t exactly mourning Brojan’s passing the same way they were—with tears and wailing.

He sat on a chair, remembered Early, and pulled out a couple of seeds to call her.

“Jacob?” She landed on his knee.

It was good to see her—to have company. “Brojan died today.”

“He did? Wow.”

That was a really casual response and Jacob looked at her in shock. Then he remembered that Minyas didn’t react emotionally the same as Makalos and humans.

She patted his knee. “You’ll be fine.”

He sighed. “I know. I’m worried about the other Makalos, though—they’re really taking it hard. Oh, maybe you should tell September. Do you talk to him much?”

She shook her head. “He still doesn’t like you, so now he doesn’t like me.”

Jacob rubbed his cheek, feeling bad. “Sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “What are you going to do now?”

“Don’t know. There will probably be a funeral of some sort. Do you know how the Makalos handle things like this?”

She nodded. “They plant a Kaede Tree in the Makalo’s honor. For a patriarch, usually three—one at the head of the grave and one on either side.”

“I wonder if they’ll be able to do that with the bugs everywhere still.”

She didn’t respond. “They also like to have loved ones write their feelings on paper made from Kaede trees. They bury the pages with the dead person.”

Jacob leaned back. He could see them doing that part. But planting a tree in an infected area? Not a good idea.

As Jacob had expected, the Makalos decided to wait to plant the trees until the bugs were gone. But they wanted to keep up the tradition of having loved ones write their feelings for the person who had passed.

Jacob spent several hours trying to come up with something elegant, but nothing sounded perfect. He wasn’t a writer—he was an athlete.

The funeral didn’t exactly go how Jacob had imagined. Everyone gathered in the meadow outside the tree, shading their eyes from the muted sunlight. Ebony stood at the top of the tree and sifted sheets of paper, a few at a time, out the highest window. They floated through the air, catching breezes which helped them drift to the people below. Jacob followed the actions of the others and caught a piece, then wrote the first thing that came to mind.

Sorry for how you passed—wish I’d been able to stop it. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

He didn’t know what else to say, so he rolled his sheet up and held it tightly in his fist, not wanting anyone to read it.

Ebony descended and Kenji took over on the ground. He held Brojan’s walking stick—a staff that had been passed down from patriarch to patriarch—and lit the end of it with his left ring finger. A silver-blue light shone from the wood itself, brighter than the cloud-covered sun. Kenji then motioned toward the gardens. Everyone walked in single file behind him, holding their papers.

They passed the gardens and fields and entered a graveyard area Jacob had never seen. Trees, most of which had died from the bugs, were planted in rows. Little markers showed where the graves had been laid. Kenji took them past those and to the top of a hill where there were rows of trees planted in sets of three—just like Early had described. The sound of crickets permeated the light forest and the sunlight broke through the clouds, warming Jacob's face.

The procession reached a hole about four feet deep and five feet long. A bundle the shape of an adult Makalo had been placed into the earth, wrapped in Kaede leaves and covered with bark.

Kenji wordlessly dropped his paper into the hole and walked away. Everyone else did the same, following him.

Apparently, they didn’t do graveside services. Jacob blew out a breath in relief. He’d seen plenty of funerals in movies, and hadn’t looked forward to having to speak his thoughts in front of the others.

Kenji led them away from the graveyard and into a forest behind Azuriah’s fortress. The Makalo knelt in the dirt and the others followed suit, spreading themselves apart from each other and kneeling near the trees. Dad and Mom did the same, so Jacob also knelt.

Peace and serenity filled the grove. A strong feeling washed over Jacob—melancholy and sadness, but joy, too. He understood this part of the funeral. This was how they paid their respects to those who had passed on—in the trees that had given them their abilities and powers, and that tied them to each other.

Chapter Eight: Contact Lenses

Early woke Jacob the next morning with a message from Aldo. “The contacts are ready! Come try them now!”

Jacob jumped out of bed, eager to get to work again and to shake off the depression of the past few days. He Keyed himself to Aldo’s new house—a little log cabin not far from Azuriah’s fortress. Aldo looked up from a well-organized table in the main room. Jacob couldn’t help but wonder how the elderly man handled working with the Fat Lady in her messy place.

“Jacob!” Aldo sprang from his seat, carrying a plastic contact lens case. “Just finished ‘em this morning. Can’t wait to see if they work!” He held the container out to Jacob.

Jacob took it and looked up at Aldo. “Should I go back home to put them in?”

“Nah—I’ve got a mirror here.” Aldo led Jacob into a bathroom.

Jacob placed the container on a small counter under the mirror. He washed his hands, using water routed to the cabin by the Rezend of the Makalos. His hands were shaking—he’d never used contacts before, but had heard plenty of horror stories from people who did. What if they got lost in his eyes? Or fell out? Or scratched him?

He opened both sides of the container, exposing the brownish-colored contacts, then carefully picked up the one for the right eye. He couldn’t believe he was about to put beetle dung in his eyes.

“Just don’t drop them—they’re hard to find.”

Jacob paused. “Is it okay if I’m alone when I do this? I’m really nervous, and having an audience will only make it worse.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Aldo flashed a grin, then left, shutting the door.

Jacob stared at the contact, feeling like he was in a faceoff with the thing. Who would win? Him, or the contact?

He knew Aldo had spent a great deal of time making it exactly like one found on Earth. It was sleek and slimy, so it shouldn’t scratch Jacob’s eye. And it looked rounded enough to stay in place.

Jacob took a deep breath, and, holding his lid open with the other hand, stuck the contact in, watching in the mirror.

He blinked. A couple of tears distorted his vision, but they went away, and no more followed. The first thing he noticed was how weird his eye color looked—it now had an odd brown added to his usual clear blue. No pain, though, and he put in the other contact. Again this went smoothly. He smiled at his reflection, made a few faces, then returned to the main room.

Aldo was pacing, rubbing his frizzy gray hair. “All done? How do they feel?”

Jacob shrugged. “Like there’s something on my eyes. They don’t hurt, though.”

“Excellent! I had a little help with them—don’t ask how, ‘cause I won’t be telling my secrets.” He grinned at Jacob. “And your vision? The same, I hope?”

“Yeah—no change.”

“Perfect.” The old man clapped. “Well, go ahead and try them!”

“Where should I Travel?” Jacob had tired of thinking up new locations.

“Somewhere on Earth?”

Jacob nodded. He’d go see Ida Mae, their neighbor. He knew she’d lived there for thirty years at least, and if he went back twenty years, she shouldn’t recognize him as her neighbor.

He appeared just outside her door and knocked, pulling his jacket closer around him. Only then did it occur to him that he had no plan or reason for being there. What should he say?

The door creaked open, and a younger version of Ida Mae peered out. “Yes? Can I help you?” Her British accent was stronger, which made sense since she’d come from England right before moving to Mendon.

Jacob nearly lost his nerve. “I . . . I was wondering . . .” He thought quickly—couldn’t ask to use the bathroom. That would make her uncomfortable. What about using her phone? But he didn’t know if she had one or not. He said the next thing that popped into his mind. “I was wondering if I could have a glass of water? I’m really thirsty. I don’t need to come inside—if you’ve got a paper cup, you could just hand it out to me.”

She smiled. “Sure, honey. Just a moment.” Wisely, she shut the door before leaving. Jacob knew he wasn’t a threat to her, but she didn’t.

A moment later, she returned and gave him a cup. He sipped it, noticing she’d entrusted him with one of the nicer mugs she owned.

Ida Mae waited patiently. Jacob made sure to look her in the eye several times before giving the cup back, just to be sure she’d had a good look at him. After he’d thanked her and she’d shut the door, he dashed around a large pine tree and returned to the present.

“They work! My neighbor had no clue it was me.”

Aldo clapped his hands again, almost more eager than a toddler. “Wonderful!”

“And they don’t make my eyes look unnatural?”

The older man shook his head. “They change the color, but no one else would notice. They still look normal.”

Jacob joined Aldo in smiling. “Then I’m ready! I’ll let Azuriah know I can start practicing again.”

“Wonderful! Go practice with confidence.”

Jacob removed the contacts, putting them back in the container. “Do you want me to keep them here?”

Aldo shook his head. “No—take them with you. Remember not to sleep with them in—your dad said that would irritate your eyes.”

Aldo showed Jacob to the door and Jacob raced to Azuriah’s fortress, hoping the Shiengol would be okay with an unannounced visit.

He wasn’t. But he let Jacob in anyway.

“What do you want?”

“I’m ready to start Time-Traveling again. We’ve resolved the issue.”

Azuriah led Jacob into the kitchen area and sat on a wooden chair, folding his arms. “How.” Not so much of a question as a demand.

“Aldo made contacts. See?” Jacob opened the container, showing them to Azuriah. “People don’t recognize me when I’m wearing them.”

Azuriah glared at Jacob. “And you think they’ll last? That they’ll work for an extended period of time?”

Jacob hesitated. “They work for at least five minutes . . . for sure . . .” He didn’t know what else to say. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask Aldo for an expiration date on the magic
or
the plastic. “But I’m positive that if they don’t last for a long time, Aldo will be able to make more. And better ones that go for a while.”

Azuriah grabbed a plate of food from the table near him. He must’ve been eating breakfast when Jacob arrived. “Great.” He took a bite from what looked like lettuce wrapped around an omelet. Weird.

Setting down the dish, Azuriah leaned forward. “On another matter, I’ve been thinking about your abilities. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to take someone with you when you Travel to the past.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Can Shiengols do that?”

Azuriah tilted his head, smirking. “No, but you can.” He folded his arms. “It will make everything easier if you have someone on your side while you’re studying the Lorkon.”

“That doesn’t mean it’ll be possible.”

Azuriah waved his hand. “Shiengols can’t Time-Travel together—they can’t take people with them. But several times, when you’ve been Time-Seeing, I’ve been able to see what you’re looking at, and this isn’t possible for full Shiengols. Therefore, your other abilities are instrumental.” He rubbed his face, staring at Jacob. “Let’s talk through your powers. Name them.”

“Okay.” Jacob settled in a chair at the table. “I can see emotions.”

“That’s a Shiengol power.”

“I see evil creatures in the dark.”

“Lorkon power.”

“I mold things and sense weakness.”

“Rezend.” Azuriah paused. “That’s it. The Rezend in you is visible to my eyes—it shares its presence with me to a certain degree. A portion of it must be triggered when you’re Time-Seeing and Traveling, allowing me to know what you’re viewing. Sensing weakness is only a part of this ability of yours. At one point, Makalos could use their hands to change and alter things around them, similar to what you do.”