06-The Sea of Grass

I walked through the Aldara Sea of Grass. It was a very fitting name. When the wind gusted it sent perfectly beautiful waves rippling over the land. Beautiful though it may be, that grass was tall and itchy as all hell on my ankles and shins. For some reason I was wearing sandals. I didn’t think that through very well—my footwear in a place called the Sea of Grass, that is.

So, yeah, it should be pretty obvious by now that I had decided to come here after all, to see firsthand how things were over on this side. I was already regretting my choice of footwear. That was about all I had established so far.

I had to stop repeatedly to scratch my ankles. I was off to a terrible start in this world of wonder and magic. Why didn’t I wear some goddamn boots or something? It would take me forever to cross the grass at this rate. The fact that I was already regretting things did not bode well.

I straightened up and stood tall when Kaya came into view. I guess I’d wanted to run into her first. Actually, I wasn’t even sure yet what the hell I was doing here.

She saw me easily, a lone figure in the grassland, impossible to miss in the perfectly uniform surroundings. Her horse slowed as she neared, and by the time she was within earshot, it paced slower still. Kaya’s pretty face was rippled with angst and confusion, probably more bothered now than at any time in the past—even when her village had burned. I already felt stupid for being there.

“Hello,” I said, but I wasn’t sure if she heard me over the whistling winds and the wavering grass.

“Hi,” she said, her voice carrying along that same wind, barely audible.

I motioned her forward so we could at least talk without yelling over the wind that howled ceaselessly and unobstructed across the plains. She approached slowly. I could see she didn’t like this. For her, this encounter was even worse than the horsemen.

“What are you wearing?” she asked me.

“Tunic?” I probably looked like someone at one of those renaissance festivals.

She sat there, on her horse, Fred, and was perfectly quiet. In the meantime, I looked about her and the countryside and marveled at the beauty all around. The woman on horseback, and beyond her the grass rippling in the wind, and everything colored bronze by the setting sun, as far as I could see. This was all right.

“You shouldn’t be here, you know,” Kaya said firmly.

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

“Your guy, Stephen King, tried this. You weren’t a big fan.”

“I know. He hijacked his own story.”

The look on her face told me she actually had no clue what we were talking about. It was like she’d read that from a script.

“There’s no way you could know these things,” I pointed out.

She shrugged.

“You’re just repeating stuff that I’ve said before. It’s like I’m talking to myself, more or less.”

She shrugged again. “Whatever you say, weirdo.”

“Easy . . .”

“Anyway, it’s not totally true, is it now?” she said spitefully.

“What’s not totally true?”

“About SK.”

“What do you mean?”

“How many days did it take you to read those books, the ones that you proclaim hijacked?”

I thought about it. “Okay, point taken.”

The wind howled during the brief silence.

“Vonnegut did this too, though,” I said. “And it was awesome.”

She just nodded, still without any real idea of what I was talking about.

“I know, I’m stupid for even mentioning those guys.” I said it for her. “You know, with whatever the hell it is I’m trying to do here.”

She was out on this conversation. I watched her eyes drift across the endless grassland that had so fascinated me. For her it was normal, commonplace.

“So then, what are you trying to do here?” she asked finally.

“I don’t know. I’m just . . . I’m on vacation. I get so tired of things. I wish I were here sometimes.”

“But you being here is . . . unfair.”

“I’m going to play fair, though. I’m going to play by all the same rules that you need to go by, that everyone needs to go by.”

Kaya looked at me and I could see the skepticism in her eyes. “Sure,” she said, in the same tone one would use with a child.

“Don’t patronize me,” I said, angrily. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.”

She looked like she couldn’t wait to get going. It was so sad though. This was setting up to be so tragic. This one woman, on a singular quest, against such odds? It seemed she was taking on the Tribe—a merciless group, led by Balako, who’d clearly be some kind of wicked and cruel bastard, although we haven’t even seen him yet—plus this dragon, who’d be a nightmare in its own right, the extent of which I’d barely yet considered. Nelson Garcia was on his way, true, but even with his help, this was a tall order against awful, awful tragedy. The signs mostly pointed to his arriving too late, finding Kaya’s charred corpse, and then going absolutely apeshit. The tragedy was setting up already, in this land without cell phones, because she didn’t even know he was coming, she didn’t even know he lived.

But I did, of course.

“Nelson is alive.” I couldn’t help it. The words just came out of me. “He lives. He’s on his way, even.”

I could see the effect it had on her, the sudden awe in her face, the hope. For a second the setting sun shone in her eyes such that I could see a glimmer of a tear.

“I just . . . I had to tell you. He’d sent ravens to let everyone know. Some of those birds may have even reached you, but the goddamn Tribe . . . they shot them down with their arrows. That’s why you never knew he was coming, coming to set things right. It’s so sad. But that’s the way these things usually have to work. It’s got to be so tragic for some reason.”

Now she did wipe away a tear with the back of her hand. “Can I go now?” she asked.

“Sure.” I watched as she began to lead her horse away, immediately noticing she wasn’t changing direction. She still headed toward Fillmore and the mountains beyond.

“You’re still going that way?” I yelled, not believing my eyes.

She nodded firmly, looking back at me.

“But why? Doesn’t it make more sense to go back and unite first with Nelson, and then you and he can fight this thing together?”

She shook her head. “I can’t turn back now.”

“But why? Don’t you want to see him? You can be reunited, you can—”

“Of course I want to see him. But I can’t turn back. Not now. Nelson wouldn’t. This is the way it must be. I go to fight.”

I was in awe. “But together you’re stronger! You’d stand a better chance! Alone is . . . suicide.”

“Turning back now may be suicide also. And it wouldn’t feel right, to change course now, just because some wizard uttered something half-cocked. Why should I even trust you, anyway?”

I was speechless.

She continued, “Already you’re somewhat of a loose cannon. You said you’d play fair, but already you’ve reneged on that. You shouldn’t even have told me about Nelson. Knowing only makes my journey ahead more difficult.” Her eyes searched me as she awaited my response. I was still speechless though. So she wiped away another tear and kept riding.

“Wait.”

She looked back.

“Meet me in Fillmore—if I make it there, that is. Meet me for a drink. At the inn, or whatever it is they might have there. They will have something, I’m, uh, guessing.”

She was silent, but her face asked why.

“I want to talk to you more. I need to.”

“Talk about what?” she asked.

“Things that are fair and unfair.”

She looked unhappy, like this was making her journey unnecessarily complicated, like she’d much rather go and singlehandedly take on a dragon that could roast her with a wayward sneeze than talk to me. At least that fate made sense.

“Look, you owe me,” I said.

“Why?”

“C’mon. That was a man of the Tribe back there. He could shoot a bow and arrow since before he could walk, practically. You think he would miss you, from barely a stone’s throw away?”

Her expression changed rapidly, from impatience to awe. “I knew it had been more than luck. ’Tis you who swayed the missile,” she whispered.

“’Tis right,” I said.

I noticed her eyes drift over my shoulder and into the distance. She pointed in that direction. “There’s one of their horses. It has been left behind.”

I looked back that way and saw the lone steed, unmoving atop a hill in the wavering grass, a perfectly majestic sight.

“You could ride it. You would get to Fillmore much faster. It will take you days on foot, you know. And I can’t sit there and wait for you. I’m sure you’d agree that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Plus, my ankles itch something fierce in this grass,” I added. “It would be good to get off the ground.”

“When traveling, even when the air is warm, you shouldn’t leave anything exposed to the elements.” She said it like she had suddenly become a helpful tour guide.

“This, coming from a girl wearing such garb as to leave her midriff bare?” I asked.

Kaya looked down, and it was as if her own clothes surprised her. Then she nodded. “Even I know this dress wasn’t smart. I can’t for the life of me understand why I chose it, or why I even have this.”

“Well, you do look very good, you know.”

“Looking good doesn’t help me. Not in any way.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you going to get that horse, or not?”

“Okay. I’ll go get it. Just . . . give me a second to think about it.”

She looked at me, searching, and having decided something, she said, “I think we need to travel together.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked her.

“I don’t see any other way. I’m not sure you could make it there on your own.”

“Well, actually . . . I can do anything, really. Don’t you understand what I am? I’m more than just, uh . . . a wizard.”

“I mean, you couldn’t make it there if you were truly playing fair.”

“Doesn’t it scare you, even a little bit, considering what I am? Essentially I’m like . . . the strongest god in this world, you know?”

“I just want to get through this. Will you get the horse?”

I’d been procrastinating, clearly. Finally I walked toward the lone horse, whose rider had been slain by Kaya, something I couldn’t have done, surely. I lacked the skills—and the stones, too. She followed me, her horse, Fred, pacing slowly through the grass. The other horse didn’t move.

“Here, here. Hi.” I spoke meekly, with a hand toward its muzzle. So far it was working. It seemed pacified. I may yet know what I was doing. Still with a hand on its muzzle, my other hand grasped its back. It didn’t have a saddle though. I didn’t give this thing a saddle. So this was where things broke down. My attempt to mount it only pushed the horse away. The beast became clearly agitated.

“What are you doing?” Kaya asked, astonished.

Without answering I tried once more, quickly, but again my attempt to mount the horse failed in spectacular fashion and I fell in the grass. It began to gallop away. I was buried in the grass, wholly unseen, and wanted to stay there a while longer, out of sight. I cursed. Probably my whole body was going to itch now, lying in this shit, but that paled in comparison to the embarrassment I felt. After a few more seconds, I slowly rose. By then the horse was just a speck on the horizon, already gone, really.

I think I’d been horseback riding once, when I was like ten, at summer camp or something. A lot of good that did me. Listing horseback riding as one of my skills would be a bald-faced lie.

I spoke with Kaya sparingly as I climbed to my feet, ignoring how I’d just made an ass of myself. God bless her, she was nice enough not to comment on it, at least not directly.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded awkwardly. I felt inadequate, since I’d been unable to do something she’d been able to do probably since she was about five.

A few minutes later, Fred resumed trotting in the direction of the border town, Fillmore. Riding him was Kaya, and behind her I sat, humbled.

I forgot about it though, as the evening passed, and I took in the majesty of the land, the Grass Sea of Aldara, unblemished and untarnished by man. Soon the sun was gone completely and the grass and everything else glowed a glistening silver in the light of the moon and the stars. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, in America or anywhere else. Absolutely incredible. I was awed, and for the moment was glad I’d come.

“What are you humming?” she asked.

Shit, I didn’t even realize. “It’s this Dave Holland track, from this live recording,” I said. “It is so mean.”

“It’s mean?”

“Yes.”

“How can a song be mean?”

“The drums snap and pop like firecrackers while the upright bobs and weaves like a boxer. Mean is somehow the only way I can describe it.”

“That doesn’t sound like any song that I’ve ever heard before.”

“Then, when the horns get in on top of that . . . it’s so awesome. It’s better than sex. It really is.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Well, I’ve not experienced either, but still, I don’t see how that could be true.”

I almost fell off the horse.

My hyperbole was lost upon her. I wasn’t sure why I might have expected any different. “It’s not,” I said. “It’s not true at all.”

She didn’t reply.

I barely said another word as we went along. It seemed like any time I spoke or tried to do anything I’d just be a liability in some way. Even while riding, when Fred shifted us unexpectedly, my hands very purposefully reached to hold on to the horse beneath me, and not to Kaya, although I had no idea what I was supposed to do there, or what may or may not have been acceptable when riding two to a horse. What the hell did I know about horses or horseback riding? Not to mention the fact Kaya’s exposed torso was right in front of me, and despite everything else it was utterly impossible for me not to stare occasionally, admiring how nicely shaped and toned it was, and how her long hair—some of it in thin braids, some of it perfectly straight and shining silver in the moonlight—reached down to the small of her back. Good God, I thought, each time my eyes drifted just so.