Lost Beneath a Known Sky

Darkness. Total, absolute pitch.

There was nothing to see, just the faint, hollow echo of a child sobbing somewhere in the impossible distance.

"Where are you?"

A little girl's voice cut through the void, muffled and distorted, like she was shouting from behind a heavy stone barrier. I tried to answer, but nothing came out. My mouth wouldn't move, and the harder I tried, the farther away her voice seemed to become.

"Where did you go?"

I didn't know.

"Where are you...?"

My eyes snapped open.

For a few seconds, I just stared at the smoke-stained wooden beams above me. I couldn't remember the dream anymore. All I had left was the voice, and even that was already slipping away. Then it came again, only this time it wasn't part of the dream.

"Where are you?"

I pushed myself upright and rubbed the grit from my eyes. Morning light was already squeezing through the cracks in the shutters. I shoved them open and immediately regretted it. The desert sun was bright enough to make me squint, but at least it woke me up. Down in the alley, a little girl was clutching a ragdoll and crying hard enough to shake her whole body.

"Where did you go...?" she wailed.

I leaned over the sill, wondering what she was talking about. Then a boy's head appeared from behind the crumbling wall across the road. He had the biggest grin I'd ever seen on someone who had just been hiding from a crying child.

"Found me!"

The girl gasped, and before she could start crying again, he picked her up and spun her around.

"Stop!" she shrieked.

She was laughing by the time he put her down. I smiled at the two of them.

Thwack.

I nearly fell through the window.

"Dad! You scared me half to death!"

"You finally woke up?"

I rubbed my head and glared at him. Dad only looked more amused.

"Good. Maybe it'll help you wake up earlier tomorrow." Dad glanced past me. "What're you staring at?"

"The neighbors."

He looked outside.

"Ah. They look just like you and Nilo, don’t they?"

That was when I remembered.

"Wait, did Nilo already leave?!"

Dad laughed. "We're about to leave."

"Then why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I tried."

"You didn't!"

"I called your name three times."

"You did?"

"No."

I stared at him, unimpressed.

"Get your boots on, lazybones."

I scrambled into my clothes, shoved my feet into my boots, and made it about two steps before Nilo caught me by the ear.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"

"You almost made us late."

"Let go! Let go before I bite you! Dad! Make him stop!"

"Don't look at me. He isn’t wrong."

"That's not fair!"

Two years shouldn't have made such a huge difference, but at eight, trying to fight off a ten-year-old was a losing battle. Nilo had the reach, the speed, and zero mercy. Nilo eventually let go, mostly because he was laughing too hard to keep holding on.

"Both of you, stop the racket!"

Mom's voice came from the kitchen, and that ended our argument faster than anything Dad could have said. She appeared with a tray of flatbread and dates and looked at the three of us.

"What are you three up to?"

"Nothing," Dad said instantly.

"Of course. It must be a bunch of vaaks whispering and rattling their tails then, right?"

I pointed at Nilo.

"He started it!"

Nilo pointed at Dad. "Dad helped!"

Dad pointed at me. "He's lying through his teeth."

"Wonderful. A house full of saints and scholars."

Mom put the tray down.

"Eat."

We did. There wasn't much point arguing with Mom once she'd reached that tone.

As Dad was reaching for a date, she caught him by the sleeve.

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Mara, I—"

"You came home smelling like a traveling tavern and singing old war shanties. I didn’t say anything back then because it’s pointless to argue with a man lost in euphoria."

Nilo and I suddenly discovered that our plates were fascinating.

Dad cleared his throat. "I had a few small drinks with Orin. That's all."

"A few? Are you sure about that?”

"Of course I am!

Mom stared at him.

"Okay. Four, maybe… five?"

"Dar."

"Four and a half!"

Nilo snorted. I tried not to laugh, but that only made it worse.

"Sit down."

Dad sat.

"Yes, dear."

"And you're finishing that bowl of porridge."

"Yes, dear."

Breakfast went on for a little while after that, though I kept my laughter quiet whenever Mom looked our way. Nilo wasn’t much help. He kept making faces at me across the table, while Dad ate his porridge like a condemned man determined to maintain his dignity until the very end.

Eventually we had to leave.

Mom stopped us at the door and pulled both of us into a hug. Nilo complained immediately.

"Mom—oof—I can't breathe."

"Shush, mother’s love is important."

She finally let him go and looked up at him. "Today is a big day. From today onward, you're taking your first real step toward becoming a proper member of the settlement."

Nilo straightened. He'd been waiting for this day for months, so I wasn't surprised to see him looking proud.

Then Mom turned to me.

"And you. It's your first time visiting the temple. Be good."

"I'll be good."

"No talking back to the acolytes."

"Okay."

"No running off to look at the offering statues."

"Okay."

"And don't wander away from your father. Okay?"

"Mhm, okay!"

She kissed my cheek.

"That’s my little Leo."

Dad opened the door.

"All right, boys. Let's move. We've got a mountain to climb."

He wasn't joking.

The temple sat on a shelf of pale stone above the settlement, and whoever had chosen that location apparently hated children. The path was steep enough that I could see the village getting smaller behind us while my legs got heavier with every step. By the halfway point, I decided that walking was an activity better suited to other people. I had also made several important discoveries on the way up.

First, mountains were terrible.

Second, whoever decided that temples should be built on mountains was probably also terrible.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"My legs are broken."

"No, they aren't."

"They are. I can feel the bones snapping."

"You're still walking on them."

"That's just because they're moving on pure spite."

Dad laughed, which wasn't the response I'd been hoping for. I kept going anyway, mostly because stopping didn't seem to make the mountain any shorter.

"Why is the temple on top of such a stupidly tall rock anyway?"

“So the goddess can look down and see everyone.”

"Can't she see us from down there? If she's a great goddess, shouldn't she be able to see us from anywhere? Why do we have to hike all the way up this stupid hill?"

"Leo."

"What?"

"Don't speak carelessly about the things of the gods."

"I was just asking—"

"They're the reason our wells have water when the dry season hits," Dad said. "They're the reason the sun rises over the dunes and sets behind the ridge. They're the reason we have a roof over our heads and bread on our plates."

"You respect them. Understand?"

I swallowed. Dad didn't talk about the gods like that very often.

"Sorry, Dad."

I looked up at the temple.

"Sorry, Goddess Elyra."

Dad smiled. "Come on. You're almost there."

I made it a few more minutes.

Then my legs gave up.

Dad picked me up and put me on his shoulders without even complaining.

Nilo was already near the top. He turned around and shouted, "I'M GOING INSIDE!" before disappearing through the bronze gates.

"NILO!"

Dad's shout vanished into the wind.

By the time we reached the top, I had forgotten about my legs. I'd seen it every day from the village, but from up here it looked even bigger. I briefly wondered if the goddess actually lived inside the whole thing. The white stone seemed to go on forever, and blue and silver patterns covered the walls in places where the sunlight caught them just right. I couldn't think of anything clever to say.

"Whoa..."

"First time seeing it up close, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

***

Inside was even stranger. The hall was packed with people from the village, and the noise of so many voices made the ceiling seem even higher. I stayed close to Dad while an acolyte climbed onto the raised dais at the front.

"High Priest Erdin is arriving to begin the rite!"

The room went quiet.

An old man entered carrying a long scroll bound in brass. He looked like he belonged in the temple more than the rest of us did, as if he'd been standing there since before the building itself was finished. He unrolled the scroll and began calling out names.

Three names were called before I heard Nilo's.

"And finally… Nilyr Grahal

Nilo stepped forward.

He looked back at us once, and Dad gave him a thumbs-up. Nilo smiled and joined the other three. He knew all three of them, of course. There weren't many children his age in the settlement.

I watched him for a moment. He looked strangely serious. I'd never seen him like that. Usually, he was either laughing at something, bothering me, or trying to convince Dad that whatever stupid thing he wanted to do was actually a good idea.

Now he was kneeling in front of the goddess with his back straight and his head lowered.

I didn't really understand why today was so important. I only knew Nilo had been waiting for it for a long time.

Then the walls moved.

Heavy wooden panels slid out from the sides of the hall and met in the center, cutting the children off from the rest of us. Small holes had been carved into the wood, and everyone crowded toward them. Dad lifted me up so I could see through one.

"Can you see him?"

"Yeah."

The four kids were kneeling before the priest. I could smell the sage and burning resin even from where I was standing, and beyond them was the statue of Elyra. It was enormous. At her feet, clear water trickled constantly into a stone basin.

I had seen water before. Of course I had. But seeing that much of it sitting inside a temple felt strange when people in the settlement sometimes argued over a single bucket.

The High Priest knelt before the statue, spoke a few words in a language I didn't recognize, and then had the acolytes bring forward four silver bowls. Each one was filled from the stream.

"Do not drink yet," the priest instructed, his voice low and absolute. "Kneel before the goddess. Look upon her feet and repeat after me."

They knelt.

The priest recited the invocation, and all four of them repeated it together.

"Elyra, I have come to your house, asking for forgiveness of my sins. I hold this bowl with water touched by your feet. She who holds the moon and welcomes the lost, the eternal goddess of the two moons and mother of souls, a drop of your forgiveness, a drop of your kindness, a drop of your mir. That's all I ask for."

The four of them remained kneeling for a moment, carefully holding their bowls.

Then a pink petal fell into Nilo's bowl.

I thought someone had thrown it, but then I noticed the other bowls.

Every single one had a petal.

I looked up. The ceiling was covered by a mural of Elyra, and a real vine had grown across the painted goddess's brow. I had no idea how a plant could grow inside a place like this, but nobody else seemed surprised.

"Drink," the priest commanded softly.

They drank.

Whatever was in that water, the children could feel it. Their faces changed almost immediately. Nilo told me later that it tasted like mountain snow, which didn't help much because I'd never tasted mountain snow. Still, judging from his expression, he hadn't hated it.

Then the acolyte brought out a silver knife.

The first boy stepped forward and received a small cut across his arm. A bead of blood appeared. The priest said something, the boy repeated it, and then the wound closed.

Just like that.

The next two kids went through the exact same thing, and then finally it was Nilo’s turn. I’d seen people use quick healing words for cuts before, so the magic itself wasn’t surprising.

Nilo just stared down at his arm, clean and whole.

Then the priest smiled.

"Praise Elyra," the priest declared, thin smile touching his lips. "The curse is broken! You are cleansed!"

Just like that, the tension in the hall dissolved into applause and relieved chatter. It was the same rite every family eventually waited through, but watching your own kid pass still brought a collective sigh of relief across the room.

The partition slid back, and the four kids immediately scattered toward their families. Nilo didn't even make it halfway across the floor before Dad scooped him up off his feet.

"All grown up," Dad said, his voice thick with pride.

Nilo grinned.

I thought Dad might never put him down.

Eventually he did, only to pull me into the hug as well. I was squeezed between both, which was uncomfortable but I wasn't about to complain.

Dad finally let go, though he kept a hand resting on each of our shoulders as we joined the crowd heading back out. The cool, incense-heavy air of the sanctuary faded behind us as we stepped past the heavy bronze gates, out into the bright afternoon