Before the Sky Fell

[ 2 ] The Rock Eaters

 -2-

The Rock Eaters

Hemonstalia, Six Months Later

Had Whik known the trees would burn, he may have said goodbye. They were, after all, his favorite things in the forest. The nine-year-old still had time for regrets.

"I have a question," Sonora said, weaving in and out of the tree trunks.

Whik rolled his eyes. When does she not have a question? Why don't the birds fly lower to greet us? Why don't my parents share the same bed anymore? The list went on and on. They hadn't even turned back yet and his friend was already giving him a headache.

Sonora's skin was a dark brown that reminded Whik of the earth. She was always outside playing in the trees or gardens, when her mother let her. Her hair was white as snow caps and the sun caught each strand as she brushed the curls from her eyes. The other children joked that she had wandered off one winter and stuck her head in the snow for too long. Whik asked her if that was true, but Sonora hit him and told him she couldn't help the color of her hair.

Sonora was of Calacami descent, whatever that meant. Whik's mother told him that her people came from the southern islands, where the rock eaters lived. Sonora told him about legends of her people, how they trained foxes and wolves and even bears to protect them. Whik didn't believe her, but her stories were exciting, so he listened.

She looked at him curiously. "Do you think we could reach the treetops?"

"I don't think so, Nora." Of course they couldn't reach the top. The trees were far too tall here. Even the saplings rose like giants, towering over the biggest of boulders. "You'd probably get too much sap on your hands and stick to the bark."

Whik's frayed, tattered shirt dropped almost to his knees. He wore an old pair of tan pants, with dirt and moss stains covering his feet. He liked it that way, muddy skin and dirty clothes. It made him feel like he'd returned from battle. He reached behind him, running his fingers along the red cape his mother had made for him. It made him feel heroic, like the champions who slayed beasts in his brother's books.

Sonora's hand grazed his. He pulled away. "But still," she said, putting a finger to her chin, "if we did reach the top, maybe we could see the gods."

"You know we don't believe in gods."

Sonora shrugged. "We can still think about them."

"There's no point. They're just stories."

Sonora grabbed a twig from the ground and threw it into the air. "What about the black in the sky? What do the stories say about that?"

"You've asked me that a hundred times. My father said the sky is ageing, like the woman who counts the crows on the market rooftop. She's old now, too, and her skin is dark and cracks like the sky does."

The canopy was too thick to see the split in the sky from the forest floor, but Whik knew it was still up there, hovering over the two of them and every other thing that lived.  Even in the winter months, when colder weather hit the mountains north of them and chased the leaves from the forest, the trees still blocked view of the sky.

The sky had split farther apart months ago, when a woman went missing from Hemonstalia. The ground shook then too. Whik was outside when it happened. The split had always been there, since before Whik was born, but on that day it split open farther, like an almost-healed wound. He strained his neck as he tried to catch a glimpse of it through the branches.

"We should turn back soon," Sonora said.

"Why? Are you scared of the rock eaters?"

"Rock eaters live a thousand leagues from here."