“They’re from my father and mothers,” Kisari explained, embarrassed.
Colibrí nodded, unsurprised. Warmaster Jhul was an extraordinary warrior, skilled enough to attract several mates and provide for them. His position as warmaster had only made caring for them easier.
“Some of them are from Ixchel and Narune too.” Kisari shifted through the trinkets. “I’d like to keep a few, if they won’t take up too much space.”
“Of course they won’t. You can keep them all. This is your bohío too—and I mean that, Kisari.” She huffed and gave a playful laugh. “You’re in here more often than Narune and I are, after all.”
She nodded and smiled. They reorganized the bohío a little. Neither she or Narune could ever be called anything more than tidy—on their good days—and neither of them were wardens, so they spent a lot of time away from their bohío.
Of course, Kisari already knew that they maybe didn’t take care of their home as well as they should. She had remarked on it often enough.
The girl sniffed and nipped at Colibrí with a look. “Maybe adopting me was for the best. You two could really use a warden.”
“Oh?” Colibrí said with a laugh. “We each tried to do our share, but maybe you’re right.”
They spent a lazy day talking with each other and Colibrí enjoyed it as much as she always did. She adored every moment with her son, of course, but his worries and thoughts mirrored her own too closely. It was refreshing speaking with Kisari, who thought like a warden and had a different perspective than they did. She also loved hearing about all the adventures Narune was too embarrassed or afraid of to tell her himself, something which Kisari had no problem doing.
And why not? There was nothing to do but sit and wait, so she might as well enjoy it—especially because she knew it wouldn’t last.
Yabisi had decided to still bring Colibrí along despite her reluctant acceptance that the Guardian would also join. All that remained was for her to help Jerrico make final adjustments to his artifacts, then, if all went well, they would hunt.
If Narune’s ambush was any indication of what they would find on their sweep toward the forest’s heart, however, then it would be a bloody journey. Who knew what they would find at the Wound itself?
Well, Yabisi had supposedly received word some time ago that there was nothing different about the eternal battle already being waged there, but that could just as well be a ruse; no one knew what lurked deep within the Stillness other than the gash from which the land bled. With Peacemaker out there, seemingly able to command halja at will, the Islandborn would need to be prepared for anything.
But those were thoughts that could wait for later, so Colibrí let them rest and refocused on her time with Kisari. The rest of the day passed without event, and Narune woke while she and Kisari were preparing an evening meal.
He sat up with bleary eyes and turned to look at them—they were both seated on the floor in the middle of the bohío. After a moment he rose and left, likely to piss and wash his face. He came back in and tugged on his warrior’s breizo and knife.
“What are you doing?” she asked him with a frown.
Her son looked at her with an even gaze. “I’m going to train. No point in worrying about my body if it’s going to rot from sleeping all the time.”
She sighed, but relented. “Only do a little, and stay close.”
He waved acknowledgment and turned to Kisari with a smile.
“I’ll bring your meal to you,” Kisari said to Narune. “Then maybe you could risk stealing a moment or two from your training to talk?”
His smile blossomed into a grin, and he bowed to her in thanks. “I think I can manage that.”
He left and Colibrí rolled her eyes, but appreciated the girl’s cleverness in finding a way to distract Narune from training for too long. Her frown turned into a curious smile however when she saw the look on Kisari’s face as she watched Narune leave.
“Very wise of you,” she said, her voice full of nip as she settled beside the girl in the center of her bohío. Fading sunlight sprinkled through the windows, the wood and hide stormward to either side pinned open to let the breeze through. “Play the role of his mate long enough and it’ll be true before he even realizes it, eh?”
Kisari jolted, and her dark face darkened even more. “It’s not like that… He’s more like, eh, a sibling…”
“Oh?” Colibrí waggled her eyebrows. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I want you to know that his mother approves.” She gave a lazy shrug. “To be honest, I had hoped that the three of you would give oaths to each other. Narune and Ixchel are a pair that could drive any warden insane, but you handle them well, and they’re skilled enough warriors that they could easily provide for you and any children.” She tapped her chin, ignoring Kisari’s downcast expression and her nervous pulling at the vines in her hair. “It’s very difficult for Halfborn to breed, especially for the men, but Ixchel might be willing to bear children for the three of you. Or, if she chooses not to, you could either adopt sproutlings or find a gift-mother to give you some.”
Colibrí glanced down at the girl and was surprised to see sadness staining her face now rather than embarrassment. She frowned, wondering if she had said something that had stirred painful memories, but then Kisari gave her a rueful smile.
“That’s the kind of life you only find in wishful dreams,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I would have loved it, but it’s never going to happen.”
“Kisari… why would you say that?”
The girl didn’t answer, and she looked away, back to the food. She rose and went to tend to it. Colibrí was silent for a moment, thinking.
“I’m not sure what happened between the three of you, Kisari,” she eventually said. “But I can tell that you care about them, one way or another. I can promise you that they need you more than you think.”
Kisari turned with a frown. “They don’t need me. They’re both stronger than you think, Mother Colibrí.”
She added the formal title in order to be polite and remove the bite from her words, but Colibrí still laughed and shook her head, tail flicking behind her. “No, they’re not. We warriors only endure because of you wardens. You give us a reason to fight and add meaning to our deaths. Every horror we see is one kept from your own eyes, every monster we kill is another that will never touch you, and, when we eventually fall, we go knowing our wardens will make use of our bohíos and care for our loved ones.”
Kisari froze—something must have shown on Colibrí’s face.
She sat back and swept a stray bit of hair away. “But that’s not all. Sometimes we grow so tired of fighting that we can’t even face the battles inside ourselves, so we look for help we can’t shape into words. Sometimes that’s chicha, or warding powder, and at other times it’s the exchange of company and pleasure. Yabisi and I would lie together in silence, covered in sweat from our passion, and say nothing while she stroked my head. Sanemoro would sit beside me, holding me against him while he told me all his silly, unimportant knowledge that made the world seem far less frightening a place than I knew it was. When that wasn’t enough, he helped reduce everything to just the movement of his hands, his ticklish breath, and the excited rhythm of his heartbeat.
“But anyone can do that, Kisari; there is a warden and warrior in all of us. That’s what the embrace of a father or mother is like. The important thing is that everyone needs a warden, and for those of you who choose to be that above all else, well, you nurture more than just sproutlings, villages, and our way of life—you nurture the very spirits of our people. I know you’ve seen that in your father, and I know Narune has seen it in me. When he was little, I used to wake every other night screaming. He learned—quickly enough to break my heart—that just letting me hold him was usually enough to stop the trembling in my limbs.”
She took a breath as Kisari turned fully. Kisari’s face was etched by a deep frown, her eyes thoughtful.
&nbs
p; “If Narune and Ixchel remain spiritseers, then they’ll need a warden capable of loving them through all that pain,” she said gently. “I… just want you to remember that. No one has the right to tell you who you should love, Kisari, but please don’t tell yourself it’s because you think they don’t need you. There will be battles within them that they won’t be able to fight with a Flowing Blade. Remember what Narune told us about the ambush?”
Kisari nodded slowly.
“Well, that was nothing. It was a good day at the Primordial Wound.” She shook her head. “I remember a time from my second rotation to the warbands there. There was a young warrior who wanted me sent back. We had a fierce argument that boiled down to her vowing to never trust a Halfborn and me promising to never care. My pathfinder, whose spirit was more radiant than mine ever will be, believed that being Halfborn or Trueborn didn’t matter, because we were all Islandborn. He laughed at us and said that all warriors were bound to each other after their blood mixed on the battlefield.
“Did you two ever become friends?”
Colibrí gave her a twisted smile. “No, Kisari. She died a notch later, devoured and shredded apart by an Empty Hunger. My warleader died trying to save her at the hands of a Fury. Even blinded, he tried to reach her, and fell while almost pulling her free.” She paused for a moment. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t forget his desperation or her screams, and that’s only one rotting tree in the forest of my mind.”
Kisari frowned at her. “Narune told me a little about your nightmares.”
“He’s helped me overcome them,” Colibrí agreed with an uncomfortable nod. “And that’s my point; I’m was lucky to have his embrace even though he’s not really a warden.”
“Well, I think Narune is lucky to have you too, Mother Colibrí.” Kisari gave her a gentle, but genuine smile. “And so am I. Thank you for your words. I won’t ever forget them.”
Colibrí smiled and rose from the floor, then went to help her with the meal. After a moment, Kisari left to bring her son his food, leaving Colibrí alone with her thoughts.
For once, they weren’t so unpleasant.
Chapter 25
The Islandborn were finally ready on the last morning of the moon. Colibrí was dressed in full war garb, one of her favorite spears in hand, her best knife at her hip, and this time she wore a few extra packs of rations and several waterskins. She stood outside, staring at the forest as if it were the Primordial Wound itself. Her gaze slipped upward after a while, settling on the dark, churning sky. A powerful storm brewed ahead of sunrise, just as the stormdancers had predicted.
Normally they would sing and spin through their tales—most of which were the stories of great Islandborn—while remaining indifferent to the storm, as was tradition, and everyone would come to watch. The voices of the stormdancers would then fight the snap of thunder and the howling of wind, their movements competing for the attention of the onlookers over the bite of wind and water. Sometimes the storms won, and everyone would take shelter, but the stormdancers were fierce fighters in their own way and just as often inspired the Islandborn to remain, wet and bedraggled but there.
Today, there would be no dancing, only death, and they would wear the storm instead of face it.
Narune and Kisari emerged from the bohío behind her. Narune was dressed in war garb too; she hadn’t yet told him that he couldn’t come, coward that she was.
She watched her son stretch, tail and ears going rigid, and then he left toward the beach. He looked much better now, but a few days of rest would do that for anyone.
“Would he stay if I asked him to?” Colibrí asked Kisari in a voice too low even for her son’s inhuman hearing.
The girl laughed, and when she looked down at her, Kisari simply shrugged. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
Kisari hesitated at first, but then her eyes flicked toward Narune’s distant form and Colibrí could see the girl’s face hardening.
Kisari reached out and touched her.
Narune is doing this for you, Kisari announced without preamble. For all of us. That’s why he wanted to become a spiritseer, why he’s so eager to master the Jurakán and prove himself to the cacica, and why telling him he can’t fight at your side will be a stab to his heart.
Colibrí said nothing, feeling a little wounded that he would confess this to Kisari yet not her. Kisari, however, laughed again and shook her head.
No, Mother Colibrí. He didn’t tell me anything, the girl said, guessing at her thoughts. He just gave me a lot more than he thought during the Ritual of Fang and Feather. She paused and a smirk touched her lips. Enough, I think, that he would die from embarrassment if he knew. But I only think more of him now. The future he dreams for all of us is… Well, it’s too much, and he knows it, but he’s trying anyway. That’s the reason I asked the Guardian to bind me, too. I won’t let him try for it alone.
There was another moment of hesitation, and then Kisari told her about her son’s supposedly great dream. She could have just as easily shown Colibrí the memory, but Colibrí guessed that the girl found it too raw and private a thing to share without permission.
Not that it mattered. Words alone were enough to shock her.
Colibrí was still deep in thought when Narune returned and gave her a puzzled look. Kisari had already retreated back into the bohío.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Colibrí said nothing for a moment as she turned to face him. He braced himself, tail freezing behind him, ears up, and she knew his was a mirror to her own stance. They really were so alike, which was why she eventually decided that she needed to do this.
“You’re going to stay behind,” she said. “The cacica ordered it. She already doesn’t want me coming along.”
Narune’s eyes narrowed. He could just nod politely and leave it at that, but she knew he wouldn’t, because Colibrí wouldn’t have either.
He crossed his arms. “Then compel me to stay.”
“Narune—”
“I won’t listen if you don’t.”
She stared at him, knowing he wanted to hurt her, to make her choice cut deeper. It was cruel, but probably only as cruel her choice seemed to him. He wanted it to bite both ways.
For a moment she thought about revealing that she knew of his dreams, but that would’ve been too much. What hurt most was Kisari’s insistence that Narune saw his life as a debt he wanted to repay at any cost, but, if that was true, then Colibrí was a failure of a mother.
“Naru,” she said, crossing her own arms and curling her tail. They stared at each other for a moment. “This will be the last time, I promise.”
A sad smile flitted across his lips. “I was always afraid of that as a sproutling.”
She winced and tried again. “You know that’s not what I meant. Stay for me, Narune? Please?” She shook her head. “You don’t need to be in a rush to reach the Primordial Wound because all warriors eventually end up there. Even worse, we still don’t know much about the Jurakán or why the Halfborn of old turned.” She raised a hand as he protested, guessing at his thoughts. “I’m far more experienced at dealing with the screams than you are and I’ve no intention of using the Jurakán at all. And, as great a warrior as you are, I’m still the greater warrior, meaning there’s less of a chance I’ll be broken to the point where it can pounce on me. See? I think with more than just my heart sometimes.”
He hesitated, but didn’t resist when she reached out to grasp his chin.
Just give me this? she asked. Afterward, Sanemoro and I can continue training you and it’ll always be you and I, shoulder to shoulder. She paused for a moment as he stared back into her gaze, gathering her power over him. He didn’t flinch or pull away.
You’re really going to compel me? He sounded hurt, his mind growing hot to her touch.
Colibrí nodded slowly. I wouldn’t listen either, if Yabisi had asked for me to stay behind instead and wanted only you. How could you not fe
el that way, when I do? So she compelled him. Colibrí worded it so that it sounded brave, hoping to keep it from hurting so much: You will stay behind and protect Kisari, Sanemoro, and the village from harm. It will earn you a little glory. She hesitated, her power still holding him, but then she sighed and finished. You’ll obey this until either a moon has passed or you hear word of my death.
She let him go and he looked away from her. Colibrí wanted to embrace him, but she only squeezed his shoulder. Kisari would soothe him, and, if her days remained stormless, Colibrí would live long enough to let him nip her at length for what she had done.
Colibrí left for Kayuya Village and found the countless warbands arrayed just outside the walls, ready to prowl the forest. The foreigners formed a smaller circle near the beach and watched them curiously. A few of the foreigners carried strange devices that looked like cylinder of stone, amethyst, and tarnished silver that had been impaled with wooden spikes at random angles. They looked heavy, but they had straps that let the foreign warriors lean them from their shoulders. There were six in total. High Magus Jerrico gestured fondly at the devices while speaking with a host of sages and spiritseers. Most of the spiritseers wore the colors of the Unseen Flow.
Their secretive tests with the artifacts had proved a success, but they hadn’t risked more. Now they would find out if the nests of corruption really did follow the rivers of Unseen Flow.
Stormwater began to fall from the sky, and the wind whipped at them to hurry, but they continued readying with care. At the center of it all was Yabisi and her sentinels. She stood on a platform that raised her over even the tallest warrior, and her voice carried over the clamor as she gave commands with absolute confidence. Warmaster Jhul waited at her side, weathered spear in hand. He stared out in the forest as if halja would rush out from the tree line at any moment—which, Colibrí admitted, could happen, considering what had happened to Narune.
She went to join them, but Sanemoro intercepted her before she could approach the outer edge of warriors. The sage looked haggard and tired, his sleeveless robe was stained, and his was hair unkempt over the band of cloth he wore around his head. None of that was enough to stop him from beaming at her.
Cradle of Sea and Soil Page 26
