Alisiyad Chapter 15 ~ Whispers

Liseli walked past the tents and the activity with her head down.  She went into the woods, hoping that there wouldn’t be anyone there yet.  It was quiet and cool between the trees and ferns.  The dew had not yet dispersed, and she shivered in the shade.  She passed by the open area near the wall, and looked at the bench by the tree.  Eliasha’s guitar lay there.  She’d left it out all night.  Liseli shook her head.  She’d seen Eliasha in the garden last night; the girl could have at least brought her guitar in while she was out.  Why had she been out?

She followed the path back into the trees, up to the stone bridge.  She stopped there, and put her hands on the rail where she had stood yesterday.  Russell, Russell, Russell.  Things had changed since yesterday . . . changed a lot.  Or had they?  Yesterday things had been very different from the day before.  Or had it?  At least, Tuesday had been very different from Monday.

In some ways.  But you and Russ, you never really do change.  You just lose track of who you are.

What the . . . ?  Liseli reached up, slowly and carefully, and touched her forehead.  Then she deliberately flicked herself between the eyes.  Those thoughts hadn’t been her own.  But her head hurt, now.  Her head was her own.  Get out.  Get out.  Whoever you are.

Then she thought she heard someone humming.  It wasn’t in her head, like the thought that had spoken to her.  Somewhere someone really was humming, and it was disturbingly familiar.  She didn’t know why.  Liseli stood still and listened intently.  It was a soft high voice.  A child’s voice.  Humming.  No, singing.  The voice broke out into words.

Lavender’s blue . . . dilly dilly Lavender’s green When I am King . . . dilly dilly You shall be . . . Queen Who told you so? dilly dilly Who told you so? Liseli?

“Where are you?” Liseli said sharply, spinning around.  She jumped and fell back against the railing.  The Child was sitting on the opposite rail, dangling one bare foot, with the other drawn up on the rail and the knee tucked under its chin.  It was smiling at her.

“Hello,” it said, then kept humming gently.

Liseli stayed glued to the rail.  “You,” she said.  “You were in my dreams last night.”

“You dreamed about me, maybe.  That’s doesn’t mean I was in them.”

“No, you were.  You were singing that song.  And you took me to that place, and you left me there.”  Liseli folded her hands over her chest and cringed.  Her tone raised, to a childlike whine; “You left me with that woman, and she came to my room later, and she hurt me.”

Get a grip, Liseli, get a grip.  She lowered her tone consciously.  “Who are you?”

The Child slid its other leg down and dangled both together.  “I am the Child.  That is what they call me, is it not?”

“What are you, then?  You’re not really a child.”

“I will be ninety years old on Sunday.  It is my birthday.”

“But—”

“You are not asking me the obvious, Liseli.  Liseli Luenford.  Liseli Ann Luenford.”

Liseli stared at it, locked into its black eyes.  “What’s your name?”

“Alisiya.”

“But that’s—”

“The place, yes, I know.  But it’s my name too.”

Liseli lowered her hands.  “You’re a girl.”

“Yes.  How shrewd.”

“What do you want from me?” Liseli stood up straight.

“Nothing more than you want.” Alisiya shrugged her thin rounded shoulders.  “Freedom.”

“Who says that’s what I want?”

“I know.  I’ve seen you, these last few years, at the Mill.  Your Mill.  Writing, dreaming of being free.  And now look at you.”  She tilted her head to the side and smiled with pity.  “I’ve been waiting for you to come through, to finally break the barrier you’ve been walking past every day.  And it’s funny, that when you finally did it, I wasn’t there.  I wasn’t expecting you that early.”

Liseli tried to think back to Tuesday.  “Oh.  I was upset.  Mr. Berdilo offered to make me the permanent manager and—” she stopped, wondering why she was telling this thing about the Burger House.

“Oh, I see.  You had to escape to the Mill.”  The Child, Alisiya, nodded, and Liseli found herself nodding like a reflection.

“That’s true,” she said.  “I’m sorry you missed me.”  She was; she felt compelled to be contrite.

“That’s quite all right.  I was surprised to see the boy, though.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t write about him much.”

Liseli looked down, and reached her left hand over to grab the fingers on her right.  She shrugged.  “I couldn’t.”

“Well, it’s worked out, anyway.  There had to be two of you then.  It’s as my vision foretold.  Two of you.  He’s served his purpose by being with you there, as I saw you.  I saw you 85 years ago, drinking from the River.  Can you fathom that?”

Liseli nodded.  “Yes, I can.”

“But we are going on about this; it is a digression.  What you want is freedom, and that is what I want.  Now that you have freedom from your life, that odious place where you worked, and your terrible family, now you want freedom from the boy, don’t you?” Alisiya titled her head to the side as she shook it, regarding Liseli with eyes that were wellsprings of sympathy.

“Russ?” Liseli looked up and titled her head.  “What do you mean?”

“He has served his purpose.  People here think that two are needed to fulfil the prophecy.  But I alone know it can only be one, because I did not tell all I saw.”

Liseli didn’t know what she was talking about, but she felt as if she did, and she nodded in understanding.

“The real way to defeat Leeton is not to march on his city.  It is to march out of this land, this other Alisiya, and open it up to all the other lands, which will kill it.  That is what he fears, that is what his nightmares are.”  The Child put its hands on the rail and leaned forward.

Liseli leaned forward as well, fascinated by the wistful, singsong voice.

“I saw that I would go to Adayzjia, and one person would take me there, because I cannot go by myself.  That person is you, Liseli.  I have come to know this.  You will take me through the gate, and we will both be free, and he will die of his broken heart, because he loves this land more than anything.  Once we are in Adayzjia, alone, there will be nothing of America to tie you down, and nothing of Alisiya to tie me down.  We’ll be free.  They will pay for holding us captive.  Do you understand?”

“I think so.  I don’t know.”

Alisiya smiled.  “Here, follow me.”

She hopped off the rail and walked away off the bridge.  Liseli followed her, not sure why she was going along with this, but unconcerned.  The Child led her up the path, then turned off to the right onto some stepping stones.  They came to a small, square, ivy covered building, and Alisiya said, “Open the door and go inside.”

Liseli tried the door, but found it locked.  “I can’t, it’s locked,” she said.

“That should be no obstacle to you.  Simply try,” said Alisiya patiently.

Liseli tried, but couldn’t.  “I really can’t.”

Alisiya sighed.  “It’s because you’re not free,” she said as Liseli turned around and looked at her.  “You weren’t supposed to go to him last night.  You were supposed to go to the River.  Instead you went and bound yourself to him.  I was disappointed.  It will make things harder.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When you came through the gate, you had not yet lain with the boy.”

“Of course not.”

“You were still free enough, though he was with you.  Now you have joined with him, become one flesh, as they say.  Do you know what that means?”  Alisiya shook her head, disapproving.

Liseli thought for a moment.  “It means I’m not free.”

“Yes.  You will have to be free if you are to take us to Adayzjia.  You will have to separate yourself from the boy.”  She crossed her arms and nodded.  “I realize it may be difficult for you; you are confused.  You have not had the years I’ve had to form your purpose and reach a clear understanding of your destiny.  So you may think you love him, but that is only an obstacle you must overcome before you can be free.”

Liseli stood with her arms dangling at her sides.  “How do I overcome it?” she asked after a moment.

“I am sorry, but . . . .” Alisiyad paused.  “He will have to die, now.”

Liseli shivered, feeling as if something had jolted her from a comfortable sleep.  “I don’t like that.”

“Well, it is only your fault.  If you hadn’t done what you did last night, the attachment wouldn’t be this strong.”

Liseli looked at her feet.  “I don’t . . . know . . . .”  She started to feel her breath coming in shorter gasps; “I’m not sure . . . look, I . . . don’t know what you want me to do, exactly.”

“Simply do what you did when you crossed through the Mill gateway,” said Alisiya.

“I don’t think I did anything . . . .”

“Your mind isn’t clear.  It’s full of him.  I can tell.”  Alisiya frowned.

“So you want me to go somewhere . . . another world?”

“Yes, but that comes later.  You won’t be able to do it until the boy is no more.”  Alisiya pointed at her.  “I am counting on you, Liseli.  I am counting on you to be what you were born to be.  You need clarity, now.  You need to be in control.  You cannot cling to fetters.”

Liseli felt as if her mind was like mashed potatoes — clarity was further away than it had ever been.  She struggled to understand the calm words of the Child.  It wanted her to nod, and agree, and she felt it making her want to nod, and agree.  But she didn’t, she touched her forehead, trying to remember that she was still there.  “You mean . . . you want me . . . to kill Russ?”

“Nooo, no no no,” Alisiya laughed.  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that, I know you can’t do that, not yet.  No.  Just let him die, when the time comes.  And it will come.  Let him go.  That’s all you need to do.  Are we understood?  Are we free?”

“But . . . ” Liseli didn’t know how to say it, and she knew, dimly, that the Child would not like it however she said it.  “But I don’t want to do that.”

“You’ll have to learn control your wants to match each other,” Alisiya said firmly.  “If you want freedom, you want to do that.  You want to lose him.”

Liseli closed her eyes.  The trees were closing down on her.  She opened her eyes.  Alisiya was waiting for a reply, serious black gaze fixed on her face.  Liseli backed up.  In her mind she saw a pair of hands clutching at her, fingers digging into her brain.  She tried to tear herself away, refusing to think with the hands upon her.  The hands let go of her and hovered over her, invisible but palpable.  They were waiting also.  “But I think I might love him,” she said.

“No you don’t.”

“I think I do,” Liseli insisted, pleadingly.  “’Cause you know . . . what I really want . . . I think . . . is someone I can count on.  To always be there.  And, I mean, he is always there.  Whether I want him to or not.”  Alisiya was staring her down with a displeased scowl, but she soldiered ahead.  “I, um, well, I know he’s late getting there, and sometimes screws things up when he’s there but,” she laughed weakly, “I mean, he wants to be there.  I don’t want to lose that.  I don’t even deserve that.  I don’t know why you want me to lose it.  I don’t understand you.”

“You’re muddled,” Alisiya said in a flat voice.  “I’ve never seen someone so muddled.” She sneered.  Then she composed her face, and sighed.  “Liseli, I must give it to you bluntly.  You can’t have him.  It is not your destiny.  Your destiny is to free yourself and lead me into Adayzjia.  You will want that once you have it.  Consider this a test, consider your love for the boy to be the obstacle you must overcome to find yourself.”

“His name is Russell,” Liseli said petulantly.

“I don’t care, Liseli.  I need you to get over this fixation with bondage and unhappiness and free yourself,” Alisiya stomped one small bare foot.  “I brought you to this building to show you what I need you for.  On the other side of that door is nearly all I have left of my mother, besides memories, bad memories, do you understand?  And one man is responsible for that.  I can never defeat him if you will not help me.”

“Well, I don’t care, Alisiya,” said Liseli.  A rush of fresh air blew through her mind.  The hands twitched.  “Would you kill your mother if someone told you to?  That’s like what you’re asking me to do.”

She felt pain shoot through her brain from front to back, and she grabbed her head with a whimper.

“I did kill my mother,” Alisiya said, pointing at the door as if she would knock it down with her finger.  “You know nothing of what you ask me, because your mind is a dark, little, vermin infested hole of selfishness and petty, petty ideas.  I . . . need . . . you, and you will come through for me, because you cannot even save him if you try.  So don’t.  Save one of you, the only one you can save.  Yourself.”

Liseli couldn’t answer.  The intense migraine pulsating through her head made her vision blur and her legs weak.  She doubled over and cradled her head, feeling tears seep from her eyes.

“What’s the matter?  Headache?” Alisiya asked.  “Poor thing.”

“Stop,” Liseli croaked in a tiny voice.

“I will.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

The pain ebbed away like tide, and she straightened, taking deep breaths.  Now her head only throbbed dully with a headache in her temples, like after a long and tedious day around the grease pit of the Burger House.  She looked at Alisiya mistrustfully.  “Who was that woman in my dream?” she asked.

“Aysha.  My mother.  She is with me always.  Sleeping, but part of me.  She will never die, truly, as long as I live,” Alisiya said, holding out both hands earnestly.  “I took a part of her with me, and she stays with me still.”

“I didn’t like her.”

Alisiya’s eyes smoldered.  “She wouldn’t like you, either.”

“Fair enough.  I didn’t like the part where Russ was dead with all those other bodies on that gray road, either,” Liseli looked away.  “And I didn’t like the song.  Why do you sing that?  How do you know that?  It’s from my world.  I don’t ever remember writing about it.”

“My mother sang it.  She learned it from my father.  It was from his world.”  Alisiya shrugged.  “And even though you didn’t like Russ being dead, you will still have to do as I say, because you cannot change fate, Liseli.”

“No.”  Liseli shook her head and crossed her arms.  “I don’t like people telling me what to do.  Maybe that’s just your idea of fate.”

“Liseli, I have lived so much longer than you.  I have seen much.  I know a good deal more than you about life, about death, and about love.”  Alisiya regarded her with cold patience.  “You refuse to listen to wisdom.”

“I don’t want your wisdom,” Liseli said, trying to keep the waver from her voice.  “Maybe I made a mistake last night, but whatever else he is Russ is still my friend and I’m not in the habit of killing my friends.”

“Do you know that you kill him a little every day?”

Liseli stared down her nose at Alisiya, but did not respond.

“You are not so cocky when you are in pain,” said Alisiya, and Liseli felt her legs give out from underneath her.  She fell to the ground in an awkward heap, whimpering again as pain like glass in her blood traveled up and down her legs.  She bit her lip and tried not to beg for the torment to be lifted.  She hated to beg.

“You are too valuable to hurt seriously, Liseli.”  The Child turned away.  “But you may leave me no choice in the end.  Think, girl, on what I’ve said.  We can be friends, or we can be enemies, but in the end you will take me to Adayzjia, because I have seen it, and I know that it will happen.”

Liseli lay with her face in the grass, tears running from her eyes and snot running from her nose as she tried to ignore the sharp pain in her legs and the dull pain in her head.  She grabbed a handful of tangled weeds and tore them from the ground.  She needed to vomit, but there was nothing inside.

“I’m sorry, Liseli.”  Alisiya looked down on her with a smile.  “It cuts me to pieces to see anyone in pain.  I’ll go now.  You’ll feel better in a minute.”