New Suns~Original Speculative Fiction by People of Color by Nisi Shawl

Author:Nisi Shawl [Shawl, Nisi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy
Amazon: B07MQFYDDF
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2019-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

I MEET KUJAKU on the crowded corner in front of my higher. I called him but didn’t tell him about Romko. Those aren’t things you say over a call. I hold Tzak’s hand and smoke with my other. Kujaku trots up from a daybar across the street, weaving through a slow pass of scuffed, gem-tone crawlers. It’s a cool day after a long night of rain. The sky be deep blue. The sounds of a blinking city seem to suction to the painted walls of the highers and other buildings.

Emidit be a big city. I only know the portions that belong to the Nations, which an’t as shiny as those of the Regierun. Friends of the polize, the Regierun. They put us here and they keep us here, among highers and shops and streets that bend and snap from lack of nutrition, like sickly kids or wrinkled old women.

Tzak leans away from me, anchored by my hand, a tilted tree in a breeze. He’s playing, but I don’t trust the mash of people—the drunks, the kneelers, and the palmers. They will all make my son older than he is and I’m in no great hurry to let him lose his youth. So I yank him back and he bumps my side.

“Ah,” he says, working up to a howl.

“Stay still, Tzakri.”

“Ah ah,” he says, jiggling.

“Here comes Kujaku. Look.”

But Tzak in’t interested in Kujaku. He steps on my foot.

“Enough.” I grab him up, one scoop into my arm. It’s what he wants anyway. His arms go immediately around my neck and suddenly he’s perfect.

This child be spoiled.

Kujaku stops under the dead lamp, where I stand, and pokes Tzak’s stomach.

“Hei Pup.”

“Don’t.” Tzak flies a foot at Kujaku.

“Last time,” I warn him. He turns his head to peer over my shoulder and ignore me. Every year he gets heavier. My arm earns it.

Kujaku thieves a cig from my pocket. “You heard the street jaw?”

I light it for him and we walk. Most of the people step aside without touching. In our territory they know the signs, the black collar that means Domani.

“Romko visited.”

Kujaku’s pale eyebrows lift. “This sunup? All the way from Opikei mudholes?”

“All the way.”

“Well technically we an’t at war.” Kujaku shrugs and puffs. Streeters watch him go, even though he’s clearly not on duty. He has a look that makes fugitive eyes: low-lidded blue stare, large flexible lips. Losa wandered his way once, but only with her gaze. Her feet knew better and walked to me.

“I think maybe I should stay off the street.” I’m only half-serious.

“Might be,” Kujaku agrees. “Aszar in’t known for his agile logic.”

“He won’t get far. All Domani can smell Opikei. They might do the deed but they won’t leave our territory alive.”

“Tai.” Kujaku flicks his ashes. “I know your ears an’t sweet on these words, but not all Domani like your Losa years.”

I look at him hard. Tzak dozes on my shoulder. It in’t a good thing to have to walk your own street with an eye to your wake.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.