Chapter 5 of The Other Breed: Refugees in a Too-Similar Other World

I’m confused as I stumble forward. Why would Iifa smile at me like that? I was the only one to turn around, so was she trying to give me some message for the others? Or was she just trying to freak one of us out? I bite my lip and it throbs a complaint.

The room we’ve entered is gigantic, dim, and empty. Now that we’re all inside, the door is sliding to a close behind us, seemingly by itself. Beth and I slow to a stop, though Hombre and Alyssa inch further into the building.

I hear Hombre mutter, “There’s no one here. Why isn’t anyone here?”

I see Alyssa turn to look at him, frowning, “Shouldn’t you know?”

He ignores her, stepping further into the room as his head swivels around, searching for a hint of life.

Alyssa lets out a little huff of frustration.

Hombre’s right. I look around, but I can’t see a soul. Beth’s fastened herself onto me again. I wince, but don’t say anything. I’m pretty sure I have bruises there, now, but in between my raw lip, throbbing legs, and my sweat-drenched body I’m a mess, anyways.

The room looks as though it’s been carved, undoubtedly by someone with endless patience and great skill. A statue of a woman stretches up through the space and the size of her only highlights how massive this place really is. Hombre, now examining her, only comes up to her foot. I have to tilt my head back to take her in and I realize that she’s standing similarly, though her arms are spread wide.

Her long hair cascades down behind her, wavy and unruly, and her skin is covered with words, as if someone’s used her as a page. A dragon twists down from the ceiling to greet her, their faces so close they might actually meet. Its tail touches her chest, over the heart, but it seems like a gentle gesture, and its wings stretch the whole length of the ceiling, blending into the architecture. I frown as I examine the dragon. I can’t help but think it looks similar to the one on my bracelet. I want to compare them, but considering how freaked out Hombre was before . . . well, I probably should just leave my bracelet in my bra.

I turn my eyes to the rest of the room. A balcony stretches around the perimeter, though the only access seems to be stairs far on the other side of the room. The lighting is slightly better over there, revealing a stairway that continues up behind the balcony, curling between the wall of this room and the outer wall of the building. I can also see the hint of railings and arches below, indicating that another set of stairs leads underneath us. I shift. Are people waiting on another floor? Are we supposed to find them?

Beth, next to me, whispers, “My mother paid a lot of money to get a floor like that in the master bathroom.”

I blink, distracted by her assertion. “What?” I ask.

“The floor. You didn’t notice it?”

I look down to see what she’s talking about and see an abstraction of variously-hued green tiles, with the occasional lemon or gold mixed in. I frown. The colors remind me of Hombre’s eyes when they changed color in the clearing. I glance over his way, but he’s scanning the balconies, distracted.

Alyssa’s still shooting him glares and I can’t help but wonder if she’s right not to trust him. Every detail seems to prompt new questions and strange connections.

“Carmen?” Beth asks, her eyebrows drawing together, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. The floor’s nice.” Her grip loosens a bit as she considers me, and I give her a smile to reassure her. She doesn’t really seem that frightened, anymore, so she’s probably just forgotten that she’s holding onto me.

I’m about to disengage her fingers when I spot movement near the edge of my vision. I turn my head, but there’s nothing there, just shadows. I squint, but the light strips running up the pillars only let off a dull glow which lights up the center of the room, leaving the balconies dark. I can’t help but feel nervous, my teeth grabbing onto my sore lip in an effort to calm me down.

“Anyone here?” Hombre yells. He’s tense, his eyes darting around. He must’ve seen that movement, too. Alyssa wraps her arms around herself, looking uncomfortable.

“Carmen,” Beth whispers, her brow furrowed as she takes a small, hesitant step forward, her hand releasing me completely, now, “I swear I just saw something by the staircase.”

“Maybe . . . maybe it’s just the lights or something.”

Beth laughs, nervous, “Yeah, that’s what they say in a scary movie before someone dies, and I’m the one that looks the most like a cheerleader.”

Alyssa glances at her and says, “Stop talking like that, Beth.”

Beth falls silent.

Another shadow doesn’t stick to its place correctly, this time up on the balcony. I stare at it, but I can’t make out anything. I have an unnerving feeling that the hall is much more populated than it appears.

“Hello?” Alyssa squeaks. She clears her throat and repeats, in a normal voice, “Hello?” When I look at her, her face is calm, but I think she’s faking it. I can see her fingers start to dance on her arms, still wrapped around her.

“Maybe no one’s here,” I offer, though I’m not quite convinced.

“Someone opened the door,” Hombre immediately responds, frowning.

I stare at him, “Alllright. I was just trying to calm us down.”

He looks at me as if he doubts that’s possible. Beth attempts to repress a shiver and fails miserably. Hombre now shakes his head, “Well, let’s face facts. We can’t go back, so what do you guys think? Up or down?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” Alyssa asks, glaring at him, “You’re the one who told us to come here.”

He frowns, “Calm down, I didn’t get exact directions, alright? It doesn’t work like that.”

She looks like she’s about to kill him.

He sighs, “Alright, I’ll decide, then. Let’s go down.”

He starts forward, but before any of the rest of us can move he stops, his eyebrows knitting together. He motions for us to be silent as footsteps echo out through the hall. Someone’s descending the stairs.

Now both of Beth’s hands are digging into me as she lets out a small, nervous squeak that immediately hides itself in the echoes from above. The hair on the back of my neck rises and I place a hand over it, trying to convince my body not to show how freaked out I am. In front of me, I see Alyssa’s eyes dart to the statue, and she shifts, as if  considering hiding behind it. Hombre’s the only one of us who seems even remotely calm as he draws himself up, narrows his eyes, and waits patiently for the owner of the footsteps to materialize.

It’s not long before a man comes into view in the stairwell above. He crosses the balcony and starts down the second set of stairs, approaching us. His gait is precise and determined, but easy – confident. There’s something magnetic about him, really. It’s hard to look away and only gets harder as his steps allow me to better make him out. He has a wary, sharp look to him, though he’s dressed casually in a jacket, the shirt underneath partially unbuttoned. There’s something dangerous about him, as if he could kill us right here, right now, no second thoughts.

“Wow,” Beth lets go of me completely to adjust her clothes and hair as she breathes, “He’s gorgeous.”

She’s right. He has a strong jawline and high cheekbones and his skin’s pale and smooth. His eyes sweep from one of us to the next, and a nervous lump forms in my throat when they land on me and then linger. The intensity of his gaze doesn’t just come from the color of his eyes, a piercing steel-grey, but also from the way he stares – as if he can see through me. I give the man a nervous smile and his right eyebrow lifts a bit. His eyes finally move back to Beth, and then Hombre, as he slows and then halts a little ways before us.

“Stand down,” he says.

I frown and glance at Beth, but she stares back at me, just as confused.

There’s rustling from above and beside us as men and women emerge from the shadows, lining the balcony and the perimeter of the hall. They’re all the same height, the same weight, and dressed entirely in black, like they were all ordered from the same factory. None of them make a sound. Even though I can now see that the room is full of people, the place still feels empty. I shiver and then try to pass the involuntary movement off as being cold, rubbing my arms unconvincingly.

The man’s smile lights up his face. He’s not just attractive, he’s bewitching, and I shift, uncomfortable. It’s almost unnatural how much he draws my eye. Beth is the one who’s always comfortable with guys, but even she seems to be acting a bit over the top, arching her back and giving him a pretty and composed little smile. Alyssa’s beaming, too, which is pretty rare.

“I suppose there’s more to this interaction than an introduction,” the man’s voice echoes out through the hall and I turn my gaze back to him. “Such as some explanations, for instance.”

Hombre’s gaze roves across the guards. He frowns as he asks, conversational, “You have a lot of guards here to welcome us. Is that normal?”

The man shifts, “Depends on what qualifies as ‘normal.’ Normally, no one comes through these doors. Normally, no one travels through the forest with so little provisions. And normally, I am the one who asks questions.”

Darien’s eyes snap back to the man and he frowns. He crosses his arms defensively and shifts closer to us. The movement reassures me a bit. Even if Hombre’s keeping secrets it seems like he’s still on our side.

The man sighs, observing our silence with some irritation, “I don’t have much time, I’m afraid, so I need to be brusque. Who are you? Have I made a mistake letting you in?”

Beth, Alyssa, and I look to Darien, who notices our gaze and pauses a moment before saying: “We were told that you could help us.” Well, at least he’s not just evasive with us.

“Help with what?” The man presses, annoyance marking his sculpted features.

Hombre hesitates, evaluating him. I look at Alyssa and Beth, wondering if one of us should say something. Oddly enough, it’s Alyssa who catches my eye and shakes her head, apparently trusting Hombre to deal with the situation. Surprising move.

The man glares at Hombre, “I can’t help you unless I know what to help you with. You seem to be cautious, but please realize you haven’t gained my trust, either.”

Hombre hesitates a moment longer and then, finally, responds, “We’re just seeking shelter.”

“How can I be sure you aren’t a threat?”

“Do we look dangerous?”

The man considers us, each of us, for a few seconds. His eyes land on me again and I feel awkward and nervous, as I’m still drenched in sweat and my hair and clothes are sticking to me. I don’t normally care a whole lot about what I look like, but somehow he makes me feel self-conscious. I resist the urge to mess with my hair, which I’m positive looks awful, and give him an innocent smile instead. His brows knot together and he stares at me. I’m not sure whether he’s trying to intimidate me or not but I hold his gaze, nervous, thinking that it might look suspicious if I break it. My father always told us he could tell someone was lying if they looked away. I remember his rough hand grabbing my chin when I was ten, after I’d asked if my mother was ever going to come back.

“No, Carmen,” he’d said with a thick voice, a hint of tequila on his breath, “Your mother is selfish. She’s cruel. She betrayed all of us and she’s never coming back. You think I’m lying? See how my eyes never leave yours. A liar doesn’t dare to see what his lie does.”

I maintain my smile as this stranger in this massive hall stares at me and I wonder, vaguely, if he’s capable of the same transformations my father underwent: drunk disaster by night, clean-shaven businessman by day.

The man finally turns away, his face expressionless, and says, over his shoulder, “Ibei, show them to quarters.” He focuses on Hombre, now, “We will be posting a guard on you until I have more time to validate your claims. Though you don’t appear dangerous, I know from experience that appearances are not always a guarantee.” His eyes sweep over us as he continues, “I am Ki, Highest Order of the area, placed in command of the military efforts of this tower. As long as you show respect for our laws and customs, we will respect your rights. Ibei, as one of our legal advisors, will provide you with documentation. Should you prove to be wanted by the Evenen authority, you will face your crimes. If you wish, still, to be sheltered by us under these conditions, then I must witness your acquiescence.”

He looks at us expectantly, and we all murmur agreement, though I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we didn’t. If his name is Ki, he must be who Iifa was talking about before.

He gives us a small smile, “It seems this was a much simpler matter than I anticipated, then. I welcome you to the Philosopher’s Tower.” He turns and leaves the way he came, crossing the hall to the balcony and then disappearing up the stairs. I release a breath, sort of glad that he’s gone. As I look at the guards, still manning the perimeter, I notice how enraptured they seem by him, too. I chew my lip. I’ve never met anyone who commanded such attention.

I tear my gaze away and my eyes meet Hombre’s. He has a peculiar expression on his face and he hurriedly turns away, though I don’t know why. Alyssa and Beth still both seem a bit dazed, staring after Ki as he disappears up the stairs.

The guards begin to move, now. A few go to stand at posts on the balcony and at the entrance but the rest head toward the stairs. Most of them begin filing down rather than up. They’re quiet, but it’s not the silence of it being a command, more of a preference they’ve become accustomed to. They don’t talk, and their heavy boots hardly make a sound.

“Did I do that?” Beth asks and I look at her and then follow her gaze down to the hand-shaped bruises on my arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her.

She frowns, chastising me, “You should’ve said something. I would’ve let go. I’m sorry, Carmen.”

“I said, don’t worry about it. All that’s really bothering me is how thirsty I am.”

“Maybe you should ask her for some water,” Alyssa says, nodding behind me.

I turn to see a woman approaching us, along with a group of six guards. While they keep their hoods up, concealing their faces, she pulls hers off. One of her brown eyes is covered by a lens, which flashes with tiny white text and images, but she doesn’t seem to pay it any mind, her serious gaze locked on us. She wears the same tight-fitting black clothes as the other guards, with a utility belt full of various gadgets and a plain, stiff vest. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and on her shoulder is perched a black box, who knows what for. Though the other guards have a variety of different-colored tassels, she alone has just one, jet-black and almost invisible against her uniform.

She stops in front of us and nods, “I am Ibei. I will be your guide and legal counselor. Considering the low influx of refugees and the situation in the area, we will need to question you further in private before we can give you your paperwork and approve movement around the city without an escort.”

Paperwork? The last thing I was expecting to do here was paperwork. I look over at Hombre, who seems to be only half-listening as his eyes dart around the room. I wonder if he’s looking for clues about the portal he mentioned. I can’t help but think it might be awhile before we can reach it.

Ibei seems to have noticed our sweaty, disheveled appearances, because she hands us a flask of water which we eagerly pass among ourselves.

Only when the crowd’s almost all gone does Ibei order, “Follow me.” She marches toward the stairwell and Beth and I fall in behind her, Alyssa and Hombre behind us. As we walk, the guards wall us in, directing us so that we descend down the stairs.