Beginning at the End (Moon Child Trilogy: Book One)
Page 4
Everything is going to change now. Everything is going to change between Tarok and me and I do not think I am going to like it. I will start to act differently around him because I will not know what to do with myself. My limbs will grow minds of their own, disconnected from mine. I will laugh nervously at the worst times and he will think something is wrong with me. Gone will be the days of easy laughter and not thinking about what I am doing – as if those days truly ever existed. My mind will never cease working; overthinking everything I do around him and everything he does around me. Everything is going to change between us and I wish to all the gods and spirits that it was not.
“Are you okay, Akari?” he asks gently.
I swallow the hard lump in my throat and nod. “Of course.” On the bright side, at least my mouth still works and my brain seems to be communicating with it even though I am not quite conscious of it.
Tala links her arm through mine with a sympathetic look as the three of us walk back to Sharp Stone House.
My mother greets Tarok with a wide grin, thanking him for his help, clearly not noticing the wetness of his clothes. She directs him inside and tells him to set the pot on the fire. Then her eyes slide to me and my wet clothes.
“What happened to you?” Her mothering nature kicks in instantaneously as she nearly drags me inside the hut.
She fusses over my clothing, pulling the wet outer layers off of me, completely unaware that a man is standing in the middle of the hut. He looks both extremely uncomfortable and captivated by the sight of the cloth being peeled away from my body.
Heat rises up through my belly and settles in my face. I am grateful that the inside of the tent is slightly darker than outside. Hopefully Tarok cannot see how embarrassed I am. All the while, my mother is chiding me for getting into the freezing water.
“Easy, Mina.” Tala warns lightly as she enters and sees what is taking place. Rarely has Tala called her bond-mother anything but ‘Mother’ since the day Sarali bound herself to Sirak. My mother looks up from where her hands are picking at the leather strapping that holds my dress to my frame.
“Oh, Tala, do not be such a prude. You girls dress with far less in the summer.” She resumes her work on the knots. I feel the dress loosening around me and force my arms to clench against my body to prevent it from slipping. I am just as frozen to my place as Tarok is to his, both of us sharing in the awkward situation my mother unknowingly forced us into. Our eyes are locked and he has made no move to look at the way my clothes cling to my skin. “Tarok, since you are still here, I assume you will be staying for dinner?”
That snaps him awake and his eyes leave mine to focus on Mother. “Um, I do not know…” he trails off, rubbing his neck nervously.
My mother smirks at him and places her hand on her hip. “If you are going to stay, then you can help. Grab these and hang them on the rack outside.” She gestures to the lump of outer clothing lying on the ground. He does so without another word and walks out of the tent.
Mother grabs my arms to let the dress fall away to the ground. I am left standing in nothing but the wrappings that cover the most secret places of a woman’s body. Tala busies herself with cutting some leaves and dropping them into the pot; no doubt hoping to go unnoticed. I am still standing near the fire when my mother clucks her tongue at me.
“Really, Akari, what were you thinking?”
I come back to myself and start to move toward my bed. “Thinking? What do you mean?” I sit on my sleeping platform and wrap a blanket around myself.
“You are going to catch a cold if you go swimming in the mountain river.” She looks at me with sternness to her face that I have not seen in a long time.
Tarok reenters; I guess he has assumed it is safe and there are not naked women walking about. “Is there anythi-” he begins.
My mother interrupts him by waving her wooden spoon wildly in his direction. “And I suppose you had something to do with this?” She swings it over in my direction to emphasize her point.
I wish that in this moment I could move the earth. If I could, I would open a hole in the ground to swallow me up. My mother is chiding the future Chief of our tribe and threatening him with a wooden spoon.
Tarok looks over at me pleadingly and I cannot offer him any help. I am frozen.
“Akari was showing me some Wise Woman stuff when she slipped. I got her out as quickly as I could.” The lie seems to abate my mother and she softens.
If my mother could stop being a mother once in a while, I think we children would be a lot better off. She takes this moment to notice that Tarok’s clothing is also damp. She starts fussing over him as he tries to protest and say he is fine. I guess his body has other plans because a shiver violently rocks him. Full mother mode takes over and next thing I know, Tarok is pulling his outer layers off and then his shirt. I cannot help but watch in admiration. The Sun Warriors – for that is what they are called in our tribe – always look so beautiful and strong. I blush and turn my head away when he catches me staring out the corner of his eye.
Tala and I look away as he strips his pants, which causes my mother to call us prudes again. “In my home tribe,” she starts, “we wore nothing but our wrappings. The weather was always so warm. You northern folk are so keen to keep yourselves covered.”
She grabs a larger blanket off her own sleeping platform and wraps it around him. “Akari, move over and let Tarok sit with you. Your platform is closest to the fire.”
I mentally groan but move over anyway. I draw my legs up to my chest and wrap the blanket around me tighter. The wood creaks as Tarok sits. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans closer to the fire.
Sarali and Liral arrive not long after, adding to my embarrassment. “Why are Akari’s clothes on the rack with a man’s?” She glances over at me and sees Tarok sitting next to me. The blanket has sagged off his shoulders and I recognize the appreciative look in her eyes.
She sets Liral down and then moves to help Tala and our mother with the cooking. The young child waddles over to Tarok and looks at the strange man curiously. He then moves on and begs me to pick him up. I open the sides of my blanket and let him crawl into my lap. Sarali notices that I am only wearing my wrappings and quirks her eyebrow. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”
“Yes, I fell into the washing pool and Tarok, who just happened to be with me, got me out of the water,” I say exasperatedly.
Tala stifles her giggles and bites her lip to refrain from saying any comment we do not want Tarok to hear. Sarali gives me a suspicious glance to which I offer a ‘later’ look.
Instead she says, “It seems that we are seeing more and more of you with each passing day, Tarok.”
“It would seem so,” he replies coolly.
“Is there any particular reason or do you just enjoy- ow!” she says rubbing her arm where Mother smacked her with the spoon. Sarali glowers like a child and then gets to work stirring the stew in the pot.
Liral fidgets in my lap until I release him. He goes to stand in front of Tarok once again. We all watch as the little boy puts his hands on the tuft of hair growing on Tarok’s chin. “Aka,” he says looking at me. He points at Tarok and gives a stern look. “Who?”
I giggle and smile. “Tah-ro-k.”
Liral opens his mouth, “Taro.”
I repeat Tarok’s name, but Liral is set in calling the warrior ‘Taro’.
The little boy places his little hand on Tarok’s knee. “Taro,” he says before walking over to me. “Aka.”
I lean down, point to his chest, and ask him who he is.
He places his palm on my face and becomes stern again. “Aka.” He waddles toward where his mother stands and reaches up to place his palm on her belly. “Baby.” His smile widens before he runs giggling around his mother.
“I do not think he likes me,” Tarok says watching the little boy.
“He did not like me either at first. You are new to him and he will grow to like you,” I shrug.
“Why does everyone assume something happened?” I say. To my horror it comes out more as a whine than a question.
“Because you are sitting next to the future Chief wrapped in a blanket with your clothes drying on the rack outside. Not to mention, his clothes are out there, too.”
I groan and pick up a rock before tossing it across the tent. “I fell. That is all that happened.”
My father looks from me to Tarok, who nods to confirm. Despite my father’s hopes of having Tarok as a bond-son, he pretends to be angry with the young man. “Why did you let her fall?”
Tarok quickly stands, catching the blanket before it falls away from his body completely. He stands straight with his shoulders set back. “I was not paying close enough attention, sir.”
My father’s eyes narrow. He stands straighter even though he is a few inches shorter than the younger man. “And why were you with her in the first place?”
“I was helping Akari get water.”
“He saw me walking to the river with the pot and offered to help,” I say anticipating my father’s next question. Then, diverting my father’s attention away from interrogating Tarok, I add, “Where did you get these?” I toss another one away from the basket. “They are terrible.”
In response, Father grabs the rock I am about to throw and drops it back into the basket. “I have been doing just fine these past four summers without your help.”
“And how many broken spear heads do you have?”
“It is not like I was able to find someone who could read the stones.”
“That is how you do it? You read the stones?” Tarok throws his voice into the mix.
I roll my eyes as I tilt my head to look at him. “You really do not remember?”
He shakes his head confused.
“Do you remember anything I said four summers ago?” He gives me a blank look and I set my jaw. “Why do you think I became the Wise Woman instead of another girl?”
He shrugs, “Because you are moon touched?”
I glare at him. Anger boils beneath my veins. He was the reason I became the Wise Woman in the first place and now he does not even remember? I stand and toss my blanket over his head. “I will be back.”
The brisk air outside has chilled considerably while we sat inside the tent. I shrug on my now dry pants, over dress, and winter coat. I search for my boots but cannot find them. “Where are my spirit damned boots?” I say angrily under my breath.
I remember having left them near the river where I took them off and walk in that direction. Tala catches up to me when I am about halfway to the washing spot. She does not say anything but lets me talk – yell.
“He does not even remember!” I throw my arms up into the air in frustration. “He is the one who told Narot that I can read the stones. It is all his fault and he does not even remember!”
When she does not say anything, my brain supplies more words. “And it is his fault I got all wet! I played a harmless trick on him and he threw me into the pool!” I make a throwing motion as emphasis. “Threw me!”
“I knew he did not go save you.” Tala chuckles.
“No, he did not. He lifted me up and dropped me into the pool.”
She gives me a sly look from the corner of her eye. “And how was it?”
“How was what?”
“Feeling his arms around you. Being picked up and carried like you are nothing.” Her smile becomes dreamy.
“Oh,” I say timidly.
She nudges my shoulder, forcing a smile to my face.
I sigh pleasantly. “Wonderful.”
She giggles and puts her arm around my shoulder as we continue down to the river where my boots are nowhere to be seen. “I swear I left them right here.”
“Maybe someone found them and put them in the center of the camp,” she suggests.
“It is worth a look.” We walk back into the camp and toward the center fire. Normally it is a gathering place full of gossiping women. However, with the sun starting to vanish behind the mountain, everyone has cleared out and gone to fix meals for their men and children.
My boots lie discarded next to the rocks that form the fire ring. I sigh with relief and sit next to the fire. Someone must have found them and brought them back to be claimed. A person does not last long without proper boots.
I sit for a moment with my feet resting on the warm rocks. I did not realize how cold my toes had gotten on the walk from the tent to the river to the central fire. When my feet are nice and warm, I grab the boot nearest to me, put my foot gingerly inside, slide my foot into the base of the shoe, and…
Searing pain erupts so strongly from my toes that I scream. I fumble with my boot as I try to hastily drag it off my foot. Tala is shouting for me to tell her what is wrong. Each time I move the boot the wrong way the hot coals touch my tender skin once again and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming out.
Tala catches on and pulls the shoe off my foot. The skin is red, raw, and angry. Tears form in my eyes as I look at the mangled flesh. She kneels beside me, picks up my boot and dumps the coals out of the shoe. I can see the question in her eyes because it is the same I would have.
“We have to get you home.” She puts her hands beneath my arms and together we get me to my feet. I do not dare set down my injured foot and try not to wince when it jostles.
She offers calming words like “You are going to be okay” and “we are almost there.” I am trying not to think about it. I am trying not to think of anything right now. I want to sit down. I want my skin to stop feeling like it is on fire. It stings and is too warm for comfort. I whimper and Tala holds me tighter against her.
When my burnt toes scrape the ground, I squeal. I bite into my lip hard until the taste of blood hits my tongue. “We are almost there,” Tala says moving a little faster than before.
It feels like a lifetime passes before we reach the hut.
“Help me!” Tala cries out as we get closer.
My father and Tarok step outside. What a sad sight we must be. I cling to Tala with my arm over her shoulder and the other gripping her arm tightly. I lean heavily onto her, biting into my torn lip to feel pain anywhere else but on my toes. I hold my leg at an awkward angle to keep the toes from the ground.
“What happened?” my father asks rushing toward us.
Everything starts to become a blur. I do not know what is happening around me. My knee feels weak from hobbling on it this entire time. Tala struggles to hold me up, having held the brunt of my weight here. I feel a pair of arms lifting me off the ground. Rough hands grab onto my ankle.
“What happened?” my father asks again more sternly.
“There were coals in her boot,” Tala says gravely. I feel the arms holding me tighten and hold me closer.
“Bring her inside, Tarok,” my father commands. His words bring me back; giving me clarity as the stinging increases.
Tarok walks with me inside the hut and does not set me down. Sarali is holding Liral to keep him from running around and being underfoot. My mother gets out various herbs from her stash, waiting to know which she needs to use.
When dealing with a crisis, I am glad my mother quickly takes charge. She orders everyone about: telling them what to get, where to get it, and who to get it from if we do not have it. My father grabs a bundle of clean cloth from a basket and the water skins Tarok set near the cooking ware earlier.
Tarok shifts me in his arms and it is the first time I truly notice him. My fingers dig into his shoulder as another wave of pain surges with my heartbeat. He gives no indication if I am hurting his shoulder, but looks down at me, silently asking if I am okay. I am not, even though I give a small nod. I can tell he does not believe me because he holds me a little tighter.
“Tarok, dear, you are going to need to hold on to her,” my mother says when all the supplies are gathered.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
She puts her hand onto his arms holding me and tells him to sit and lean against my parents’ sleeping platform. Tala brings over a large rug and sets it down where Tarok is to sit. I am shifted from Tarok’s arms to my father’s and then back again once Tarok is on the ground. His legs are on either side of me and his arms are wrapped around my chest and stomach.
“Akari, this is going to hurt.” My mother’s warning was not strong enough.
She takes my foot gently into her hands and then dips the damaged flesh into a bowl of water. Tarok’s arms tighten to keep me from thrashing as the pain is renewed again. His breath is hot on my ear as he hushes me and tells me it will be over soon. I lean my head back onto his shoulder and screw my eyes tightly shut to block out the world, the pain, everything.
The pain of my foot being singed again and again is nothing compared to the pain as my mother cleans the dirt from my burns and then wraps some kind of leaf around each toe. I grip Tarok’s arms with my hands tighter than I thought possible. My breath catches in my throat and stops completely. I hold back my screams and grit my teeth together.
My world goes dark as blackness swallows me whole.
Chapter Four