The Shake

The greater light was setting as the genesis of a new day took hold. It was the cold season again. The Shake was milder during this time of year, though the rattle was still enough to awaken even the deepest of slumbers.

It came with no discrimination. It didn’t care if you were young or old, far away or near, in the middle of sleep or vibrant celebration. It was always deadly. And it was always getting worse, season by season, and each time it was like drawing a lottery ticket you didn’t buy. It wasn’t a question of if it took someone; the only question was, “who did it take this time?”

The floor began to rattle beneath her with a familiar, haunting, pulse. Here we go again, Kailah thought as she was awakened out of a deep sleep.

“Mary! Mary!” she shouted.

“Kai… what—” Mary yawned. “What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you feel it?”

“Yeah. We better go.”

Kai began to gather her things together and help Mary do the same. That’s the thing about The Shake. Once it gets going, you don’t know whether it will stick around for days or weeks, hours or minutes. The only thing you do know is that you don’t want to be unprepared. Father was still at the shipyard and hadn’t made his way home yet; they’d have to make it to the Cellar without him.

“Are you ready?” Kai asked.

“I think so. Did you make sure to get enough food?”

“Enough for the both of us for a few weeks,” Kai said.

It was only about a mile and a half to the Cellar in their town. The Cellars were cold, crowded, and not particularly comfortable. Each village had one. Despite the lack of luxury accommodations, it was the only structure most village people could rely on to keep them safe during The Shake.

The distant sky retained a deep red effervescence as they made their way through town. You might think the air would be filled with panic; you’d be wrong. There was a mysterious calm when The Shake came. It was brutal, but they accepted it. After all, what is “normal” but the pace of daily existence whether it be full of pleasure or pain?

Kai and her sister had a rough go of it. When they lost Mother a few years ago, they almost lost Father too. It’s hard enough to raise daughters and support your family—let alone to do so without the only one who made the weight of life bearable. Kai felt an unimaginable weight of responsibility to her little sister. Most girls don’t begin to rear children until 60 years, yet here she was, just 40 summers behind her and forced to care for Mary as though she were her own. What is confidence, anyway? A theoretical construct of self-introspection? Or something more—the intimate knowledge of things learned living one day after the next and simply doing your best to survive? The world didn’t give Kai much choice in the matter. Be confident for Mary. She is all that matters. I have to be strong for her.

Given the time, Kai would remain at war within her mind, but as the rumbles and rattles picked up their tempo, she suddenly snapped out of it.

“Just a little further,” she said. “We have to keep moving. Don’t slow down.”

“I’m with you, Kai,” Mary said. She had been strong in Mother’s absence — all 19 years of her.

Ace and Rallah’s girls were something special, as many of the townsfolk (and more than a few suitors) had noticed. The only shame is that Rallah was not around to see who and what they had become. Even in moments of weakness, they always appeared strong for their daddy—and it was a good thing. He needed them.

Finally—in the distance, a sound. Not the sound of rumbles and rattles, but of voices. And through the cool, misty air, the faintest glow of a candlelight signaling the Cellar was almost upon them. They draw closer. And as they do, another, more distinct voice calls out.

“Girls!”

“Father!” Kailah and Mary called in unison.

“Girls, quick. It’s started to get worse. Much worse.” Ace waved them in.

The sisters made their way into the safety of the Cellar. Even though it had only been a few full moons since their last stay, it never quite feels like home. But The Shake didn’t care. And as far as anyone knows, it’s not going away anytime soon.

I wish this would all end.

They made their way down the dark, cold hallway and into the first of five large common areas. You could still feel The Shake even in the Cellars, but they were reinforced by cardium, an alloy that gave off an unfortunate odor, but was far stronger and sturdier than wood-bourne dwellings. The Rac’i — a class of nobleman descendants who controlled The Southlands, and whose ancestors were, as legend has it, the very first to create cities and work with the alloys — were a peculiar kind of royalty. They didn’t exactly open up their homes or go out their way to provide care for the commoners. But when it came to The Shake…well, to watch one suffer and die from its effects—no matter their social caste—is something one hopes to avoid, even if selfishly. They built the Cellars.

In the Third Communal of the Cellar, the worn table at the center of the room was already claimed. It always was. People needed something to do with their hands while the world shook itself apart overhead, and Stones of Fate gave them that. The game had been passed down so many generations that nobody quite remembered its origin — only its rules, which were simple enough to learn in an afternoon and deep enough to spend a lifetime failing to master.

Three types of stones. Air, Water, Fire. Air displaces Water; Water smothers Fire; Fire scorches Air. Played on a grid scratched into the table’s surface, each move rippling into the next like a drop in a still pool. The skill was in reading the board three moves ahead. Most people couldn’t manage two.

Tomin could manage four.

“Your move,” Kai said.

He studied the board. His Air Stone had just displaced her Water Stone. Her Fire Stone sat exposed.

“Patience, patience young girl.” He grinned without looking up.

Mary leaned in from across the table. “Tom — how long do you think we’ll be down here this time?”

“No idea, Mary, but—”

“Probably a long, long time.”

The voice came from the hallway. Ace stepped out of the shadows between two candle brackets, coat still on, eyes doing a quick count of the room. He moved to the table and the girls rose halfway out of their seats without thinking.

“Kids, I’ll tell you — it’s not looking good.” He pulled out a chair. “It’s never been this bad in my 157 years. The Prophets say it’s only the beginning of this cycle. We’ve had reports of nearly 300 deaths across The Southlands since it started back up last Moon.”

“300?” Kai’s voice came out sharper than she intended. Around the table, a few heads turned.

“300.” Ace looked at Tomin. “I know you’re in the middle of a game. Do you think I could have a word with my girls — alone?”

“Of course, sire.” Tomin pushed back from the table. “See you all a bit later.”

They gathered closer to the small fire burning in the iron basin at the communal’s far end. Controlled burns — you had to be careful, but you couldn’t survive a long Shake without warmth and a way to heat rations. The fire popped and the cardium walls threw the light back strange.

Ace sat. The girls sat. He folded his hands.

“Girls. You know I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you.”

“Of course, Father.” Kai watched his face. “Daddy.” Her voice dropped. “You’re scaring me. Is everything okay?”

“Well — yes. And no.” He looked at the fire. “The truth is, I don’t think it’s safe for us in this part of The Southlands anymore. Now listen — I know your entire lives are here. I know what Donath means to you. But I’ve been thinking about this a long time, and I believe it’s for the best.”

The girls looked at him. Neither spoke. Donath was the only home they’d known — the market road, the shipyard smell, the way the greater light hit the river in the cold season. All of it.

The rumbles were picking up. Another tremor building toward its peak.

“Daddy,” Kai said, “you know the stories. You’ve heard the Prophets. It’s no better here than anywhere across The Southlands. I know you want to protect us — but this is just part of li—”

“But why?” Ace cut her off. His voice was quiet. “Why on Earth and Heaven is this just part of life? And — what if it didn’t have to be?”

Kai went still.

“Father.” The word came out the way Rallah used to say it — Ace felt it cross his face before he could hide it. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

He looked at his hands. He looked at his daughters. The fire snapped between them.

“Not here.”