by Lori Holmes
“Where is Daajir?” Nyri asked.
“He volunteered for sentry duty tonight.” Kyaati answered. “He’s keeping watch near the Pits.”
Baarias was secretly glad of the boy’s absence. He knew Aardn had plans for him. Plans that revolved around his Nyriaana. His heart burned at the very thought.
A radiant presence glowed against his senses and Baarias lifted his gaze in time to see Sefaan approaching. The Kaamali’s energy was light, happy, but Baarias stiffened at the sight of her nevertheless.
“Kyaati,” Sefaan spoke softly, ignoring both he and Nyriaana as she lowered herself gingerly into a sitting position. It wasn’t lost on him that she had positioned herself on the opposite side of Nyriaana. As far away from him as she could get and still be a part of the group.
The Kaamali winced as her bones protested.
“I can give you something to help with that,” Baarias murmured before he could stop himself. The last thing he wanted was to draw Sefaan’s attention to him but he couldn’t bear to see anyone in discomfort, knowing he could help in some way.
Her response was exactly as he expected. “If I wanted your help, young man, I would ask for it.” Her voice was caustic. “As much good as it would do me-”
“Sefaan,” Baarias warned, his own voice cooling in response to her bite. “I do not wish to hear it. Let the spirits rest.” Why couldn’t she just leave it be? He could torture himself enough without her continued reminder of a mistake he could not change. He could not bring Rebaa back. No matter how much he might want to.
The thought of his ill-fated sister made his stomach turn and he twisted his shoulders abruptly so he could hide from Sefaan’s accusing stare.
“What’s going on?” Nyri’s confusion filled the air. She had never been able to understand the hard feelings that existed between the Kaamali and himself and Baarias did not have the heart to tell her. She would turn her back on him if ever she found out the truth and that was something he could not bear. “Sefaan, why won’t you let Baarias help you?”
“It is none of your concern, child.” Sefaan told her in a firm tone. “As your teacher said, let the spirits rest. His own inner demons are punishment enough. It wasn’t either of you I came to see, anyway.”
Baarias could feel Nyri’s surprise at Sefaan’s blunt dismissal and then her questioning gaze as it came to rest upon his back, searching for answers. For once, he did not enlighten her.
“I’ve made these.” Sefaan’s energy was light once again as she addressed Kyaati. “For the baby. I thought you might like them.” Out of the corner of his eye, Baarias watched as she handed a curious Kyaati a leaf-wrapped bundle. “Take it, take it.”
Baarias watched as the girl unwrapped miniature items of clothing including coverings for the baby and the warmest blanket that Sefaan could weave. At the very centre was a small toy made of leaves wrapped into the shape of a hare. A red feather draped from one of its long ears. Nyriaana’s bright presence glowed at the sight of it.
Kyaati’s eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. She hugged the gifts to her chest. “Thank you, most sacred Kamaali,” she whispered in a hushed tone. “I’m sure she will love them.” For the first time, Kyaati did not speak of her baby with fear or anxiety. She was simply happy.
Baarias pressed his lips together, probing the energies around Kyaati’s pregnant belly. He could not sense that anything was amiss yet. Only time would tell if this babe was meant to survive. He hoped with all his heart that it would, for Kyaati’s sake.
“She?” Nyriaana raised an eyebrow. Kyaati nodded and Nyri’s smile broadened until it split her face in two. Baarias read the hope upon their faces; the same hope that would bloom through the whole tribe upon learning this secret. The promise of a female child could mean the next Kaamali had come at last. All eyes would be searching the eshaara trees, eagerly awaiting the falling of a seed. Sefaan glowed. She placed a hand on Kyaati’s head in solemn benediction.
“May the Great Spirit, KI, give you strength and keep you both safe.”
Kyaati beamed as she bowed her head respectfully beneath Sefaan’s touch. Baarias had not seen her so happy and carefree in a long time.
Aardn signalled for silence. The auscult was about to begin.
* * *
7
Auscult
“Great people!” Aardn’s voice broke over the soft buzz of chatter as Nyri looked up. “We have been blessed by Ninmah with a plentiful Gathering. We will not know hunger this night nor for many nights to come. It fills my heart with gladness to see renewed hope in your eyes.” She glanced at Kyaati for a brief moment. “Together we will share in this good fortune as we did in the days of old. We have suffered much hardship, we few, but we have endured. By holding true to our ways, we will live until the Blessed times come again and those that seek to unbalance Ninmah and bring the accursed Ninsiku to power have perished into dust.” She looked around at all of their faces with pride. “Our youngest members have not yet heard the story of our beginnings but I believe now they are old enough to hear and understand.”
Nyri watched as all of the children present leaned forward in eager anticipation. Omaal was not among their number, she noted. He must still be resting. He would not be happy about missing out.
“We are the people of the forest,” Aardn began. “Our ancestors taught us that we were born of the trees. It began when Ninmah, the Most Sacred, came down from the sky in a great ball of light in the company of Her heavenly brethren. They each looked upon the world and decided they needed a people to serve them. None of these Sky Gods could agree upon a single form, however, and so to accomplish their task, Ninmah and Her kin decided to go their separate ways, each with an idea of what their people should be.
“Ninmah was by far the greatest and the wisest, a healer and a lover of all things beautiful. She travelled into the forests and imagined beings who would learn from this world’s many secrets. A people who could watch over its beauty, gathering wisdom until they were worthy to follow in Her name. Taking the red-gold bark of the eshaara tree, Ninmah fashioned a being in Her image and breathed life into it. Thus, the very first of the Ninkuraaja was born.
“Ninmah was pleased with the form She had created but as yet the being had no Soul, no Sight. Such a Gift would be needed if Her new people were to fulfill the ultimate destiny She had foreseen. Using secrets known only to Her, Ninmah drew on the life energy of the earth itself and infused that first Ninkuraa with the power of KI, the Great Spirit, Gifting her with a powerful awareness of Him. She became the first Kamaali of our people. Ninmah named her Ninsaar.”
“Ninmah taught Ninsaar how to harness her Gift and how to become one with the Children of the Great Spirit, the wolf, the great bear, the horse, each of his offspring, great and small, for all were significant to his Balance. The Sons and Daughters of the Great Spirit were to be our guides. Through them, Ninmah hoped we would gain the wisdom and knowledge needed to fulfil Her plan and to watch over this paradise in peace, protecting its vital Balance and enhancing its beauty.
“Once the teaching of the first Kamaali was complete, Ninmah returned to the trees to make more of Her Ninkuraaja and, in turn, the new Kamaali taught them how to use their gifts as Ninmah had taught her. Though none were quite so powerful as she, many new gifts did that first Kamaali find among the people, some had inherited Ninmah’s great skill of healing, others in growing plants, some had the best perception of the Children of the Great Spirit.
“When the Kamaali was finished, Ninmah knew She had indeed created a people greater than any of Her siblings. A people who would one day follow her into the heavens, a wise and powerful race. Ninmah looked to our future with hope and pride and allowed us the sacred gift of children, permitting the most worthy Ninkuraa to bear the next generation.
“For a time, Ninmah dwelt among us, teaching us the sacred lores. Through Her wisdom, we grew more powerful and heard the will of the Great Spirit ever more clearly. Our forefathers were
able to communicate thoughts over great distance, encourage plants to grow far beyond their natural speed. Our tribes met often to exchange learning and to Join their strongest members. The peoples of Ninmah’s kin dared not come near our forests. It was an age of blessing and our people grew close to achieving Her plan and Ninmah was pleased.”
The children’s eyes were wide in imagining such a time. The adults looked on with sad longing carved upon their faces. Nyri could feel the dark turn of fortune looming in the tale.
Aardn sighed. “Alas, it was not to be. Ninsiku, the Joined one of the sacred Ninmah, became jealous of his mate’s creation. The children he brought into the world were no more than shadows of our race, fierce and greedy. As with the rest of Ninmah’s kin, Ninsiku’s creations were born Blind and Soulless, savage flesh eaters and ground-dwellers like the Thals with no knowledge of KI’s Spirit.”
“What’s a Thal?” Nyri heard a nearby youngster ask.
His parent whispered hurriedly back. “A beast from the Fury wastes. Hairy, thick set, pale. An unintelligent creature in a twisted Ninkuraaja form.” The child shuddered.
“The Great Spirit rejected such abominations,” Aardn went on. “They went against the Balance. Knowing not the secret of how to gift his own children with our Sight, Ninsiku instead gave his demon sons and daughters another power. The power to dominate and destroy anything in their path. Their hearts were black and without mercy. Thus it was that the Woves came into being.”
The children and even a few adults shuddered. Nyri felt the wind more keenly about her as she shifted uncomfortably upon her rock. Just the word Wove was enough to send a chill down her spine, evoking images of horror and death.
“It was then that Ninsiku himself came for our people, bent on destruction. He knew us to be the greatest challenge to his own children. The world grew cold, marking the beginning of the Great Fury that lasted for generations. Enraged by the betrayal, Ninmah fought against Her Joined one.
“Their battle shook the foundations of the world. Earthshakes tore the land and burning mountains rose up from the rock, spewing fire into the air. Ninmah saw that if She did not leave and take the battle to the heavens, the beautiful world She had grown to love would be turned all to ash. She knew Her mate would not stop until he had achieved his goal of destroying Her beloved Ninkuraaja.
“With a mighty effort She threw down Ninsiku and dragged him with Her back into the skies. There She imprisoned him in the dark, binding him in such a way that he could never return. With his departure, the Great Fury receded and our world warmed once more, though it would never again be the same. Few of us managed to survive the freeze and there was great sorrow. But through the power of those that endured, our people managed to save the eshaara trees and preserve our way of life. Through Ninmah’s love and wisdom, our people defied Ninsiku and survived his plan to destroy us.”
“Yes!” a little one hissed in proud exaltation.
The corners of Aardn’s mouth turned up for a brief moment before she continued. “Sadly, his power was so great, Ninmah realised that even imprisoned within his heavenly cage, Her Joined one could still do harm to our people. And so with a great sorrow, Ninmah decided She must remain in the heavens to guard against Her mate’s sinister reach and hold him in careful balance, never returning to the people She had so loved.
“It is from the heavens that they continue to watch over us. Ninmah burns in the Day Sky, the Golden Mother, giving our world life, warmth and hope. Ninsiku watches in the night from his dark prison, his silver eye slowly blinking. Their power has always rocked back and forth. Night and day, Fury and Blessing. A battle doomed to continue to the end of time until one finally defeats the other.”
Aardn paused. “It was our last great Kamaali who foretold that should Ninsiku ever gain dominance over his Ninmah, the Great Fury would return and when that happened, we would no longer be strong enough to survive it. Our way of life would wither for good and our people would perish. She named it the End of Days.”
A cold wind blew and they all felt the significance of this foretelling. Nyri thought back to her earlier anxieties and the increasing ailments seen within their forest home.
The Elder continued her story. “But over the generations, Ninmah and Ninsiku’s power remained equal and the world flourished. Our people recovered from the Great Fury and strove continually to regain our former greatness.”
Aardn drew breath. “This final part of the story brings us to the main purpose of tonight’s auscult. Ninmah taught us the value of making each generation stronger than the last. She permitted only the most powerful to bear the children of the future. Following the Great Fury, our forefathers continued this sacred teaching as Ninmah had ordained, hoping that one day, they would be deemed once again worthy enough to join with her as equals.”
“And are we?” little Naaya breathed, sitting in her mother’s lap. “Are we worthy yet, great Elder?”
Aardn sighed. “No.”
Naaya’s face crumpled with disappointment. “Why not?”
“The Woves came, child. Unable to defeat Ninmah in the heavens, Ninsiku sent his demon children to hunt us on his behalf. They found their way to our lands many Furies ago, travelling from their birthplace in the south. At first they ignored us and our people waited, watching this strange new race carefully from the safety of our forests. It did not take long for us to realise that they were the dark children of the unholy Ninsiku.
“Curses began to spread among our tribes, killing many and tainting more. Shortly after, the balance in the skies began to shift. Our people weakened and we heard the voice of KI, the Great Spirit, less clearly, regressing from Ninmah’s vision of what we could be. As we diminished, the Woves’ dark power increased and the grasp of Ninsiku strengthened, finally tipping the balance against Ninmah. His Furies once again grew longer and colder. Frosts touched our forests for the first time since the time of the Great Fury. Our trees and plants began to sicken and die. It has become harder and harder to feed and shelter ourselves. We declined once more, encountering other tribes less and less. The Wove curses increased and our children were born misshapen.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Nyri saw Baarias give a despondent shake of his head. On her other side, she could feel Sefaan staring him down. If she could guarantee the motion would not draw everyone else’s attention to her, Nyri would have got up and moved from between them.
“Very soon Ninsiku’s spawn smelled our weakness and the beasts began to attack, no longer ignoring us as they had. They had worked their dark magic. For thirty Furies, they have mercilessly driven us from our homes, dragged our children into the night to feast upon, kidnapped and pillaged. Driving us further to the brink.”
Baarias’ gaze was removed, distant. Nyri could see that he was in another time. She touched his hand in comfort. He had seen more Wove raids than she could imagine.
“They have brought terrifying predators from the north to stalk our steps even when they cannot,” Aardn continued. “They are mindless in their destruction. It is because of them that many of our skills and strongest members have been lost. Some say the End of Days are indeed upon us as was foretold. Who knows when we will be attacked again.”
A collective wave of unease swept the audience. Leaf-leather rustled as everyone shifted, glancing furtively into the lengthening shadows as if a Wove may well stalk from the under-brush at any moment. The children huddled closer to the adults.
“But do we lie down and go quietly from the world? No!” Aardn raised her hands. “We will go on. We are the Ninkuraaja, beloved of Ninmah, servants of the Great Spirit of KI. We will continue as our forefathers taught us and grow strong once again. I seal this promise with an announcement. Step forward, Khaad and Raanya.”
Nyri stiffened as the brother and sister moved from the shadows and came to Aardn’s side. Khaad held Raanya’s one good hand nervously. Her other arm was withered and useless. Her thin hair had been woven with the traditional red leaves o
f the blood tree. Nyri knew what was about to happen and her throat closed with renewed anxiety. Kyaati had been right. Raanya would not go to Daajir. She was to be bound to her brother.
Khaad had already lost his first mate and no other tribeswoman was available besides Raanya, Kyaati and Nyri herself. Of course, Kyaati was currently out of the question and, if her friend’s words were to be believed, the Elders had other plans for Nyri. Raanya and her brother would now be Joined, tied in both mind and Soul, the closest bond any Ninkuraa could form to another. Their devotion would be total. Ninmah had guided them so. The bond had to be strong if they were to bring children into the world.
A wave of despair shook Nyri from her thoughts and she was in time to see Baarias drop his face into his hands. Nyri was shocked by the depth of emotion she felt rolling from him in waves. He was struggling to control himself and remain seated. On her other side, she could sense that Sefaan was still watching him.
“You both possess the skills worthy of our ancestors. By the wisdom of the Elders, you are to be Joined in our most sacred tradition of Ankidaa.” Aardn searched the crowd and with one last withering glare at Baarias, Sefaan rose from where she sat and moved into the circle. Her face was grim as the pair knelt before her. Sefaan placed a hand on both of their heads preparing to seal the Joining.
“You will bear children that will ensure the survival of our-”
“Sefaan! Stop!”
Nyri flinched as Baarias shot to his feet. Shocked, Nyri tried to pull on him to get him to sit back down but he shook her off.
“What is the meaning of this?” Aardn demanded.
Baarias stared her down. “You are wrong in this, Aardn. You and the other Elders.” He indicated the three figures standing in Aardn’s shadow.
Nyri heard several hushed gasps, her own among them. Eyes darted between the usually softly spoken Baarias and the formidable Aardn. The tension in the air almost crackled. No one challenged the Elders’ wisdom. Their unquestionable experience and knowledge was the reason they were chosen to lead.
