Beyond Nothing

Chapter Six

Kea pauses at the corner of the street, brows furrowing. 'Didn't you just have socks on before?'

I look down to my feet, encased in black trainers. 'I don't think so.'

He shrugs, and continues to walk. I have to run a little to catch up with him, my short steps no match for his strides.

Far from the hustle and bustle of the previous day, the street is almost empty. The stalls are gone, and the people with them, leaving the area seeming much larger than it did before. The strings of lights that were draped over the street are gone now. I suppose it must have been some kind of festival, and Kea soon confirms my theory.

'You just caught the end of the Festival last night – it's a pity you didn't get to enjoy it.'

'What festival was it?'

He pauses for a second, thinking, before saying, 'It doesn't really have a name. It's just... The Festival.'

'But what's it for?'

'Nothing, really. It just happens.'

This strikes me as strange. I would have thought a festival should have a name, or at least a purpose.

Kea ducks into a small shop on the corner. I glance through one of the windows as I pass, the glitter of precious metals and stones catching in my eye. Distracted, I peer closer, marvelling at the elaborate jewellery. A tiny clockwork dragon sits in the corner, surrounded by other metal creatures, and I jump a little as it lets loose a tinny roar and a bright spurt of flame.

Realizing I can no longer see his shape through the window, I follow Kea inside. He's standing just inside a doorway behind the counter, and I catch the murmur of voices before he turns, walking back toward me. A girl follows on his heels.

Her face is angelic, dark skin and huge pale eyes of a flat silver. Her hair is so white as to be almost clear, reaching to the backs of her heels, miraculously clean and untangled. Walking to me, she offers her hand, and I shake it.

'Hello,' she says, 'my name is Silva. I'll work on your ship.'

I grin. I like this girl – I'm not sure why, but she clicks with me. I don't even know her yet, but I hope we will be friends.

Unsure if it's something rude to ask, I hesitate when I say, 'Sorry if this offends you, but... Are you a human?'

She laughs, clear and bell-like. 'No! I'm nothing, really. It's a little hard to explain. I don't have a corporeal form, so I can scan the minds of those near me and appear as the closest I can get to myself as their species. If I like the form, I'll keep it for a while. Sometimes I mix and match, with parts from several. So no, I'm not a human, I just look like one.'

I nod in understanding, and she grins at me, her teeth pearly and almost perfect, but just a little too pointed. 'Shall we be off, then? I have money, unlike Kea, so we can pay someone to transport us there by magic. Saves us walking. I don't like walking.'

Kea nods. 'Shall we leave now, or do you have things to do?'

'Nope, we can leave now. I should probably move quickly before someone comes for me.' She turns in a swirl of silver hair, cupping a hand by her mouth, 'Oh, Ally! I'm leaving!'

I don't hear an answer, but she nods, looking pleased with herself. 'Let's go, then!'

She doesn't wait for us to move, striding to the door and onto the street. I hurry to catch up with her, and Kea follows more slowly behind us.

She's almost at the corner by the time I draw up alongside her, and she grins at me again. Her perfection unsettles me slightly - she possesses an ethereal beauty, as if she doesn't belong here, on the ground. She belongs in the clouds, where even the angels would be at her beck and call.

As if sensing my thoughts, she slings an arm over my shoulders. 'We're gonna be friends. Aren't we?'

'Sure,' I say.

She giggles, disappearing off down the street again. She pauses in front of a large bay window, posters plastered against it. On one of them, the words "Haggerd's Transportation" are printed in elaborate script. She darts inside the shop, and tears a corner from the paper.

Only seconds later, it has grown back, with no scar to show where it was torn. She comes out into the street again, perching herself on a low stone wall surrounding someone's garden, legs neatly crossed.

Seeing my confusion, she explains, 'The poster will send a notification to him. He'll come as soon as he can. Which shouldn't be too long, considering he's a transporter.'

A small man flickers into being in the centre of the street, and she waves to him. 'Speak of the devil. Hey, Haggerd!'

He waves back, wandering over to us. 'You again? I heard the alarm earlier, saw the smoke. Guessed you might be needing me. So where'll you be wanting to run to now, little miss?'

'Silly, I'm not running this time. I'm working.' She says this with a sense of pride, emphasizing the word "work" to make completely sure it sinks in. 'I didn't even destroy too much earlier!'

He pats her on the head. 'Whatever you say.'

Kea moves as silently as ever, and I only realize he's sitting next to me when he speaks, 'No, she really is working.'

Silva holds out a handful of coins, letting them drop one by one into Haggerd's outstretched palm.

Haggerd seems to accept this, pulling a small silver pendant on a chain from his pocket. 'Here. Hold this and think very hard of your preferred destination. If only one of you knows it, then that one thinks of the location and the others think of that person.' Boredom is obvious in his voice.

I grip the pendant, metal cold against my fingers. Silva twines the chain through her fingers, and Kea loops his thumb through the very end of the chain. 'I'll think of the location,' he says. 'You two think of me.'

Silva closes her luminous eyes, face scrunched in concentration, and I close mine in turn. I think of Kea. I think of his feathers, and his face, and his eyes. I think of him as hard as I can.

Somewhere deep inside me, a feeling stirs. The loose young vines curled around my heart spring forth with tiny white buds.

When I open my eyes again, they have to adjust to the shadows of the forest. I stare around me, searching for anything familiar. The trees look like any others to me – no distinguishing characteristics other than the green trunks and pinkish flowers.

My feet sink into the thick moss as I turn, searching for my shuttle.

There are the deep ruts, scars in the planet's surface, bleeding chunks of earth.

There are the still smouldering patches of moss.

There are the splintered tree trunks.

But my shuttle is gone.