Chapter Two
“May the ancestors bring harmony and love to the Sparks family and bless them with all that is good in the world. May the Sparks family find favor in the eyes of the fates, so that good fortune may come down on their blessed heads like wreaths of peace. May the Spirits grant the Sparks family a long, happy life together.”
I stared up at my godfather, Shame, as he recited the last of the seemingly endless prayer to our dead ancestors. Like they could even hear us. They’re dead. Why can’t the elders see that?
But, for the sake of my godfather, I sit still and be patient, despite the fact that Fury is right next to me and I want to finish the meal as soon as possible so I can get as far away from him and find Malice.
After hearing about Malice’s gifting, I have no doubt in my mind that the people who say shamans are just crazy old men are right. She’d told me all about it as we headed home.
“He seemed scared, almost,” Malice had said, “like he wanted to get it over with quickly. He wasn’t like that for you, was he?” I shook my head. “Right. And you know how he’s supposed to say something, like a blessing or some moral that you’re supposed to carry with you for the rest of your life?” I thought back to when the Shaman told me the story behind his rug. I didn’t see how that was really a moral, but nodded anyway.
“Well, he never said anything to me. He just sat there, staring at me with really frightened eyes. At one point I think I saw his lips moving, but I don’t think it was meant as a blessing. When he finally gave me my totem, he flinched when I reached for it, like he was afraid I was going to hurt him.” Malice suddenly stopped walking a few paces from the entrance to my hut. She turned to face me, eyes wide with anxiety. “Joy, am I… abnormal? Is something wrong with me?”
“No, stupid,” I replied fiercely. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s the Shaman. He’s obviously not right in the head.” I tapped the tip of my finger against my temple. “He’s insane. Anyone can see that you’re the exact opposite of a snake, just as much as you brother’s the opposite of a scorpion.”
Malice nodded, but the dubious look on her face lingered. I was bursting to tell her about getting a butterfly and then finding a hawk, but just then, Mam charged out of the house, screeching, “Joy Sparks! Why are you so late? Have you no respect for your godfather? He’s been waiting for an eternity and a half to see you! Come, come…”
I turned around to invite Malice, but she was already sulking away, going to find her brother Deceit, probably. After one last worried look at Malice’s retreating back, I hurried inside at the urging of Mam.
Now, as Godfather Shame finished his prayer and lowered himself into a chair with the help of his gnarled cane, my worries for Malice were driven away by my aching hunger for food. Mam, Fury and I watched Shame with repressed impatience, waiting until his plate was piled high with food before reaching out and serving ourselves.
Shame beamed across the table at me, his eyes twinkling. “So, tell us all about your Gifting, Joy.”
I moved with deliberate slowness as I wiped my mouth daintily with a napkin, stalling for time. What was I supposed to say now? Telling him about the butterfly was out of the question, especially with Fury right there beside me. And no way was I going to include the rug story.
“Well,” I said, careful to keep my hesitation out of my voice, “he… talked a little big about Fury.” Always good to incorporate some bits of truth into a lie.
Fury smirked. “Oh really? And what exactly did the old coot say about me?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mama’s face harden at the sound of Fury’s nickname for the Shaman. Anger flashed through me as well, although not for the same reason. Of course Fury would be the one to find a way to make even my Gifting all about him.
“Oh, nothing,” I said nonchalantly, stirring my soup thoughtfully with my spoon. “Just about how conceited and foolish you are to think that just because you’re a collector you have permission to strut around town like the sun rises only for you and your fat head. He asked me to correct you, maybe poke a hole in your forehead to let some of your hot air out.”
Fury narrowed his eyes at me and I fought the urge to give him the same smirk he just gave me. “Anyway, after that he said a blessing and gave me my hawk totem.”
Fury nearly sprayed his soup in shock. “A hawk totem? He gave you a hawk totem?”
I hid my smile of satisfaction at his disbelief. “Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” Fury muttered something under his breath, probably grappling with the notion that my first totem was better than his.
Shame scooped up some winterpeas and plopped them into his mouth. “I’m more interested in what his blessing said.” Of course he was, as one of the Stone Kingdom’s three sages.
I drummed my fingers against my chin, pretending to recall details while my mind frantically searched for something to say. “Let’s see… he asked the spirits to grant me knowledge so I wouldn’t abuse my totem… and that I would have a long life with my totem… and that I wouldn’t forsake my totem by becoming a collector,” I added, to make it sound authentic, because in a way, he had said that.
I watched Shame’s face cautiously. Being a sage, he knew a vast amount more about blessings that I did, so he would easily be able to tell if I was fabricating the whole thing. His face was a mask, however, providing no clues of whether or not he believed it.
“What about your friend Malice?” Mam put in. “Do you know what totem she got?”
“A snake,” I answered, with a brief glance at Fury, whose expression didn’t change one bit at the sound of this news.
Mam’s eyebrows shot skyward into her chestnut brown hair. “Really? That’s almost like her brother, isn’t it? How strange of the Shaman.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Shame said. I resisted the urge to protest that his reason was that he was crazy and respectfully held my tongue.
*****
After dinner, Mam relieved me from my usual duty of cleaning the dishes, party because it was my special day and partly because Godfather Shame wanted to take me out for a walk. I reluctantly tore myself away from the warm fire at the hearth, pulled my coat and mittens on, and followed Shame out the door.
Most everyone was inside now, celebrating with loved ones. Shame and I made our way down almost deserted dirt roads, passing homes lit with cheery fires and hearty laughter. A light snow had begun to fall, the snowflakes dancing and twirling in the air before landing delicately on the ground. I tilted my head back, letting my eyelashes catch the flakes before they melted, leaving behind a kiss of water.
Shame and I walked in a comfortable silence, snow crunching softly under our feet. The gray sky, which had looked gloomy and oppressing when I was alone on the mountain, had now taken on a peaceful impression. Smiling and perfectly content, I looped my arm around Shame’s and pulled close to him.
At the other end of the street, two figures walked at almost the same leisurely pace as Shame and I. They drew nearer, and with a flash I recognized both; one for her blonde head and the other for his black one.
I broke away from Shame and dashed forward. Malice looked surprised yet pleased to see me. “Joy.”
“Hi Joy.” Deceit, the boy next to Malice, gave me a cool, laid back smile. He brushed his black bangs out of his dark, playful eyes with one bandaged hand. His hand wasn’t really injured; it was just a current fashion trend among the young to wrap bandages around hands, arms, legs and foreheads, the stupid excuse for the elders probably being that it symbolized healing and readiness to defend their home kingdoms.
A rosy blush slowly crawled its way up my neck and into my cheeks. Suddenly tongue-tied and light-headed, I managed to nod a greeting in Deceit’s general direction before staring furiously at the toes of my boots.
I do not have any attraction to Deceit. At least, I hope I don’t, because that would just be weird for me and Malice, us being friends and all. There’s just something about Deceit that makes my stomach twist and my cheeks burn… and my heart accelerate…
I looked away, searching for something, anything, to take my mind off the boy in front of me, and what pops out of my mouth?
“It’s cold.”
I could’ve kicked myself. Well, of course it’s cold! I yelled in my mind. We’re about ten miles away from the Ice Kingdom! When wouldn’t it be cold?
Malice shot me a look that showed she obviously agreed with my thoughts. She opened her mouth to say something, but before anything could come out, Shame came up behind me, saying pleasantly, “Why hello Malice, Deceit. Out to take advantage of the nice weather?”
Malice and Deceit bowed in unison. They’ve met Shame a few times before when he’d come to visit, enough so that they know he’s not strict and bossy like most elders. Shame, in return, knows that Malice and Deceit are two of the most golden-hearted people in practically all of the Stone Kingdom.
Shame nodded at Malice. “So I hear you’ve gotten a snake totem.”
If Malice was annoyed that I told my godfather this, she didn’t show it. “Oh, yes. It was quite a surprise…”
Shame watched Malice carefully. “You know, Fury’s first totem was a snake too.” At this, he tilted his head slightly toward me. I glanced up at him, tense suddenly.
Malice pulled a puzzled face; she didn’t know Fury well enough to know what Shame was getting at. “Yes, yes, I know… although I’m sure he doesn’t use it often, with all the other totems he has. How many does he own now, Joy?”
“Twenty eight,” I replied. No doubt he was trying to break the current record of sixty two.
“Do you see any similarities between you and Fury?” Shame inquired. He made his tone light and casual, but I saw the fiercely intense look in his striking blue-gray eyes.
“No!” I shouted immediately, at the same time that Deceit snapped, “Of course not!”
I looked up at Deceit, surprised, although I knew I shouldn’t be. It’s no secret that Deceit dislikes Fury. My brother seems to be the only person on the entire planet who Deceit can’t stand. It’s easy to see why, though; why would anyone like a person who continually acts superior and arrogant and emphasizes on others’ weaknesses despite how polite you act to them? Malice, on the other hand, would lose sleep over the teeniest, tiniest accidental insult she threw at someone. When put next to each other, you might as well give Fury horns and a pitchfork and give Malice a halo and wings.
I, however, have my own reasons of why I never want to hear Shame ask that question again, reasons that I’m sure my godfather knows about.
Deceit changes the subject with a smile and asked, “What about you, Joy? What totem did you get?”
I pulled my totem from under layers of fur and dangled it so Deceit could see. “Wow,” he gasped, obviously impressed. “A hawk? That’s one of the rarest and highest priced totems out there right now!”
I forced a grin and said, “Well, I’m pretty lucky then, aren’t I?”
Swinging around to look up at Shame, I saw that a frown was plastered on his face. I could practically read his thought in the lines on his forehead: Joy is not the type to get a hawk. He gently pushed me from behind, saying, “It was nice meeting you two, but Joy and I really must get along with our walk. May you go in peace.”
Malice and Deceit bowed once more. “And you, great sage,” they said together.
Shame steered me down the road that carried out of town toward the Heavenhope Mountains, the natural barrier that separates us from the Ice Kingdom. I shuddered and shoved the earlier incident of getting stuck on the slope out of my mind, striving for a clean conscious with a sage right next to me.
The dirt beneath the snow slowly gives way to rock and ice as we climbed upward. Shame, although unusually strong for his old age, got winded easily and sat down on a rock. I crouched next to him and patted his hand.
Shame is the only elder I actually like, mainly because he’s the only one I’ve ever met who doesn’t slap my shins with his walking stick and I’ve never heard him raise his voice. Although his skin is softened with many wrinkles, there’s a youthful spark in his eye that I believe will never fade out. His long, silver beard matches his hair that grows everywhere but the crown of his head. He’s dressed, as always, in his formal sky blue and gray robe and cloak, as it’s the official uniform for the sages of the Stone Kingdom.
There are three sages per kingdom who serve as part of the royal court. They mainly act as spiritual leaders and advisors to the king and queen. They carry out rituals for holidays, weddings, births, and funerals, and any problems in the kingdom concerning magic are sent to them. There’s been talk in some kingdoms of getting rid of the sages because of their old traditions, but the Stone Kingdom, a steadfast opposer of the Youth Revolution, is not one of them.
As a sage, Shame must have bargained day and night with King Yearning, a strict yet kind and just king, to take a break and visit me. Yearning is almost as old as Shame, getting closer and closer to his death date, much to the alarm of the officials of the kingdom.
Yearning has no children. He used to, long ago, but they died along with the queen when the plague claimed them eight years ago. Now, without an heir, almost all the Stone Kingdom is in a panic. See, the next king has to be blood related to Yearning. The royal families in all the kingdoms are royal for a reason; they all have an extraordinary natural ability of element control. It’s a bloodline trait passed down from generation to generation in only a select few families. It’s much different from being a sorcerer or mystic, because while a warlock can become very skilled in harnessing the element of, say, wind, they will never come close to being as powerful as a Bloodline Mystic, as they’re called, or sometimes Royal Mystics. A Bloodline Mystic’s control over an element is so great, not even they know the true extent of their powers. There are only ten families with such a remarkable talent, and from them the kingdoms have been named: Stone, Ice, Storm, Fire, Earth, Wind, Water, Sand, Disease, and Venom.
The problem with Yearning is that he seems to have no family members left alive anymore. He used to have plenty of relatives, but strange and unexplained disappearances have quashed that number into almost nonexistence. Yearning was born as an only child with a small extended family. His in-laws have no special elemental powers whatsoever, since the girl he married was just a regular peasant until he made her queen. Yearning has no blood relatives left. He is alone, a threat that after he dies, so will the Stone Kingdom.
I look up at Shame. He’s worried about Yearning, no doubt about it. It’s obvious, the way his fingers are restless and how he constantly rubs his beard. If he’s worried, then I’m worried too.
Shame has been in my life for as long as I can remember. How Mam got a sage to be my godfather is a mystery, but I’m grateful for him, even though he’s away most of the time dealing with court affairs, especially with Yearning aging and no heir. Shame has been something like my substitute father, since my real one left before I was born. Or at least, I think he left. Either that or he’s dead. Mam tells me nothing of my biological father, and I’m sure she asked Shame not to provide any details either. I asked Fury once, when I was five or six, and all he did was shrug and say, “I don’t know. He wasn’t around much.” And that was that.
I guess not having a father doesn’t really bother me, since I’ve never had one in the first place. Having Shame is good enough for me.
Shame turned to face me, his expression grave. “I’m troubled by many things today, Joy.” He blew out a long sigh. “You do realize why I’m concerned with Fury and Malice, don’t you?”
I did. Because the Shaman was right; a cheetah would’ve suited Fury better than a snake. When Fury was sixteen, he was certainly arrogant and daring, but not sly and deceptive.
Fury was a better person when he was younger; there’s no denying that fact. He’s always been full of himself, but it’s gotten worse as the years progressed. He used to be kind to me, used to be more polite and offer more respect. He used to climb trees with me, used to take me to the places that he’d found and explored. He’d almost always bought something sweet for me when he went to the market, or if he didn’t have any money, he’d take me on a “secret mission” to Farmer Sorrow’s field where we’d crawl under the gate together, gobble handfuls of juicy berries, throw rocks at the hens, and then sprint back to town, Sorrow chasing after us with a shovel, me riding on Fury’s back because my legs were so much shorter than his.
Fury was mischievous and charismatic, a combination that made him fun to be around, despite his pride. He was brave, too, or maybe that was just him being over-confident. Whatever it was, he’d saved me once from Vice, the local bully who was at least twenty pounds heavier than every other kid in the village. He and his thugs had chased me around the whole town, made me trip over a rock and land on a prickly thorn bush. Fury, somehow, someway, drove them away just as they were advancing on me and supported me as I limped home. He helped bandage up the worst of the gashes and promised he would deal with Vice. The next day, the moment the bully saw me, he turned tail and hurried the other way.
Fury was my hero, my beloved brother who, to me, was perfect in every way.
But then came his Gifting and he came home with a snake.
I hadn’t been worried at first. Why should I? There were dozens of people who had snake totems with no harm done. But Fury started changing a few months later. His boisterous, contagious laugh transformed into something that sounded mocking. His once warm eyes became orbs of darkness. He stopped creating missions for us to go on; all his previous antics ceased. He became restless in a way that scared me almost as much as his stare, that hair prickling stare that made me feel cold and abandoned inside.
I would do anything to get the old Fury back. My Fury, not this heartless, stony replica.
The fact that Malice’s Gifting was so similar to Fury’s is more than a little unsettling. They both got totems that do not match them; they both got snakes. From what Fury told me and Mam at his celebratory feast so many years ago, the Shaman seemed petrified of him, which makes the old man fearful of both Fury and Malice.
I can’t imagine Malice changing into a cruel, icy person, but then again, I couldn’t imagine Fury changing either. If I lost Malice the same way I lost Fury, I don’t know how I’ll live. I can’t lose two people to the Shame and his stupid snake totems. I can’t.
Shame suddenly stood up and cleared his throat. “Well now, we can dwell on depressing thoughts and let that bring us down, but I’d rather get to the reason I brought you out here.”
I stared at him, confused. Wasn’t the reason he brought me out was to take me on a walk?
Shame leaned on his cane that probably doubled as a staff when he was doing his job as a sage and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Joy. I’m proud of you. No matter what happens, I’ll always be proud of you.
Uh-oh. I didn’t like where this was going. Not that I’m not pleased by what he’s saying, but mushy moments like these don’t sit well with me. Already my feet were starting to itch, which is always a bad sign.
Shame lifted his hand off my shoulder and took something off from around his neck. With smiling eyes that shone brighter than the rays of the sun, Shame placed an object into my hands and closed my fingers around it.
I looked down at what he’d given me. “Your reedpipes?” I gasped, dumbstruck yet touched that he’d given one of his most prized processions to me. “But you’ve had them since you were a young boy! Didn’t you make them yourself?”
Shame gave me a peaceful yet sad smile. “I am coming to the end of my life. Every morning, I wake and see a small wisp of my soul slip away toward the heavens. Very soon, I will breathe my last breath, and then a new mystic with exceptional elemental abilities will take my place as sage, as long as—“
He broke off abruptly, but I heard what he meant to say: As long as the Stone Kingdom will still be alive by then.
Shame continued on, saying, “I’m sure your mother and the other two sages, Woe and Wisdom, would like to bury my reedpipes with my body when the time comes, but what a waste it would be, then, if no one would ever play them again.” He sighed but quickly lightened up. “I’ll miss the sound of them, but maybe when I’m a spirit, the wind will carry their beautiful melody to me. Until then, the stones serve those reedpipes. I’ve charmed them, you see,” he explained to my unspoken question. “If you ever need me, for anything at all, play the official anthem of the Stone Kingdom and, although I am old, I will come to you, wherever you are.” He smiled his special bittersweet smile and tucked a stray hair behind my ear.
I never expected this talk. I mean, sure I know Shame’s old, but I never really thought about him dying. Shame, cold and unmoving, buried dozens of feet under the earth? I couldn’t picture it; just trying to made the hairs on my neck stand on end and made me feel almost sick, like my stomach was trying to climb is way up and out of my mouth.
I threw my arms around Shame, allowing myself to embrace and endure the mushiness of the moment just this once. I buried my face into his familiar, musty-smelling robes and mumbled, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
Shame held me close. “I don’t want to, either. But death is a part of life, Joy. You must comfort yourself with knowing that we will meet again in the spirit world. Just… just promise me my death won’t keep you from living like you should. If the sadness dragged you down that far… well, think of it like a kind of birthday, my birthday into the realm of the spirits.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier,” I murmured miserably. Already I could feel my whole being begin to implode; my heart was too tight for comfort, squeezed achingly by grief and a longing to rewind time. Damn the spirits for death! Damn the spirits who were preparing a place for my godfather, who were stealing his soul away bit by bit!
Shame pulled away and stared me fiercely in the eye. “Promise me, Joy. If not for yourself, do it for your mother. It would kill her to see you live like you’re dead.”
I sighed but nodded and looped Shame’s reedpipes around my neck. “I promise.”
Shame gave a smile that seemed a little forced. “Right then. Is there anything you want to tell me now, before I leave?”
I snapped my head around. “What?! You’re leaving tomorrow?!”
“At the crack of dawn,” Shame answered. “Stagger is a fast horse, but he’s not as young as he used to be either. It’ll take me all day to get back to Bor.”
I hung my head. He was right. While the Stone Kingdom isn’t large, Bor, the capital city, is a long way south of the village.
“Come now, don’t look so down,” Shame said. “I’d stay longer if I could, but under the current circumstances with Yearning…”
“But… but…” But this could be the last time I ever see you!
Shame stared down at me. “Joy. I’m already pushing my luck with the royal court having even a day and a night off. There’s been an alarmingly high amount of unexplained magic throughout the kingdom, and if we don’t an heir soon, there’ll only be nine Bloodline Mystic families.” Shame passed a hand over his eyes and was silent for a moment. At last, he said, “If there’s anything you need to tell me, say it now.”
My mind jumped to the butterfly totem. Normally, I wouldn’t tell him, because as reckless as kids are being these days, nobody throws away their first totem. But this wasn’t a normal meeting. If I didn’t confess to him now, our maybe last meeting ever, I could be facing a whole life plagued with guilt. Besides, he’s my godfather! I tell him practically everything and anything, both good and bad. If he found out I was hiding something as serious as this under a big fat lie, his disappointment would be immense.
I looked up at Shame and opened my mouth, ready to spill the truth, but I hesitated. His eyes—they were hard and tense, waiting expectantly, like he already knew what I was going to say. And his anger when I told him would be a mountain on top of my back, the punishment a thousand times worse than severe. He might even be mad enough to yell, and then we’d get in a huge fight.
And our last meeting, my last memory of him, would not be a mingling taste of sweet and bitter. It would be sour, a kind of taste that’s too easy to recall and too hard to get rid of.
Maybe he would die still furious at me. Was that what I wanted?
So instead, out of my mouth came, “No. I’m just upset that you’re leaving, that’s all.” And then, I turned around and headed back toward town, trying to ignore the hole Shame was burning into my back with his stare.
