by Lori Holmes
He simply shrugged and turned the fruit he held over in his hands, frowning. “I suppose if you have to be here, listening to you chatter breaks the tedium.”
His words made Nyri lift her head slightly. “Well, what do you want to talk about?”
She had learned quickly that she could not mention their forgotten past without provoking his temper. She could not afford set backs in their uneasy truce. She needed to find something else to break through. It didn’t help that his glowering presence intimidated her enough to make talking nearly impossible. Her brow pinched together as she tried to form a coherent thought inside her overwrought mind.
“How many are in your tribe?” he asked.
“Fifteen,” she supplied automatically.
His eyes widened. “So few?”
She felt her shortening temper flare at his observation. “Yes, thanks to the Woves. It is only by the grace of Ninmah that we survive at all.”
His face remained composed in the face of her outburst but his eyes were thoughtful.
“Are there other tribes?”
“Not that we have found.” She kept her stare to the ground.
He continued to turn the fruit, the fruit that should be with her people, over in his large hands, apparently lost in thought.
“What would your tribe do if they found out you were coming here?”
“That is something I try hard not to think about.” The Elders would never understand her purpose here. She didn’t think there could be a punishment great enough.
The silence stretched. Nyri looked up to find him studying her with a peculiar expression. “I am your enemy,” he said. “The enemy you say threatens your people’s very survival and yet here you are, risking capture and probably death to keep me alive. A Forbidden abomination. Why?”
“I have told you why,” Nyri muttered to the hard ground. Part of it, anyway.
He ground his teeth together. “He must have been very dear to you, this boy you knew, for you to risk yourself in such a way.”
“Yes,” Nyri whispered. “He was.”
He searched her face and Nyri fought to smooth the pain from her features without much success. After a few moments, his expression became almost pitying. “I am sorry you lost such a person. But, let me ask, would he have wanted you to risk yourself in such a way?”
Nyri drew a deep breath, she could see what he was trying to do and it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t let him go. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But it is no less than he would have done for me if the situation was reversed, so what choice do I have? We promised to look after each other. I am not going to break that vow.”
He shook his head, incredulous. “And this boy was like me?” He gestured to his appearance.
Nyri did not know how to answer that without upsetting him but he seemed to take her silence as confirmation. His gaze softened. “You… are not what I expected from an elf. You are different from the others.”
She frowned at him but he did not elaborate further. He looked her right in the face and Nyri felt her heart give a strange little jolt as his eyes locked on hers. “You should not be putting yourself at risk. You…” he hesitated, “I do not think you are someone who deserves to die.”
Nyri could tell from his face how much the admittance cost him but she felt her spirits lift. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t doing all of this for nothing.
“I can take care of myself,” she replied. “I know what I am doing and it is the right thing to do.” For everyone, whether they would accept that or not.
He growled in response and lapsed back into the familiar silence. He was not happy with her answer; a heavy frown slashed at his brow. Nyri tried to divine if he was actually concerned for her or just disappointed that his tactic hadn’t worked. She hoped for the former.
The dark sky above the canopy began to grey and she knew it was time for her to leave. She rose reluctantly to her feet. “I promise to come back tomorrow, please stay quiet and wait for me.”
His eyes lifted. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. “I’m not going anywhere, apparently.”
Nyri climbed out of the Pit and set off through the forest as the strangest of bird calls whistled out behind her.
* * *
Daajir paced outside Nyriaana’s home. Where was she? Didn’t she realise he had better things to do than to help rearrange a tree? He looked restlessly to the outer forest.
When at last she arrived, she had the audacity to offer a tentative smile. After the way she had treated him the last time he had helped her, he felt like walking away.
“You’re in a better mood today,” he observed coolly, letting her know she was not yet forgiven.
“I might be.” There was an almost imperceptible lift in her mood since the previous day when she had all but chased him from her tree in a fit of pique.
“I wouldn’t push your luck, though” she cautioned. “Just keep to your own side today.”
“I was only trying to help,” he grumbled morosely.
“Well, I don’t need your help,” she said, climbing up into her tree to start work.
“You could have fooled me,” Daajir put in as he followed her. He felt smug as the sight of the half completed bower belied her words. The branches on the half he had been working on were thick and strong enough to support weight. In contrast, her side appeared much the same as it had when they started. She had the grace to flush.
“Huh. Well, just keep out of it.”
“If you insist!”
Without warning, the summoning horn rolled out.
Daajir swung around as a wave of energy hit them. He recognised the tenor of the energy. It was Aardn and she was angry.
“What? What is it?” Nyri was bewildered then paled visibly as she felt it, too.
“Come on!” Daajir flew down the tree with Nyri following in his wake.
Aardn was standing at the foot of the main store tree. The Elder’s expression was contorted with fury. Daajir saw Nyri’s eyes go from the tree, to the Elder’s face and back. Her face became ashen beneath her red-gold skin.
“Someone has been stealing food.” Aardn’s voice broke over them all.
Daajir stiffened as the shock travelled down his spine. A collective intake of breath swept around the gathered tribe. For a moment he felt nothing, then rage like he had never felt burned through his chest, releasing in a hiss through his throat. “Traitor!”
Nyriaana was silent at his side. A nauseous, greenish tint had crept under her skin. She looked as though she was about to vomit. He shifted slightly away from her as a movement caught his eye; Umaa had staggered against Imaani. Omaal’s mother’s face was a mask of horror, her eyes large in her head as tears spilled down her cheeks, so great was the shock that a Ninkuraa would betray their own.
Daajir was shaking. All the effort. All the sacrifices he had made for his people at the cost of his own soul. To know one of those he had done it all to protect had betrayed them in such a way was almost more than he could bear.
“I warned you,” Aardn continued mercilessly. “I warned you that such selfishness would not be tolerated. When I catch the one responsible-” Her voice had been rising sharply and she cut herself off to draw a steadying breath then, with the composure more befitting of an Elder, she faced them all.
“I had hoped that it wouldn’t come to this but rations must be halved.”
“No!” The voice was Haana’s. The child, Naaya, was clinging to her mother. The infant was weaving on her feet, she did not even appear to have the strength to lift her head. The spirit that had been in her eyes when she had followed Daajir and his group on the Gathering, a lifetime ago, it seemed, had died. He ground his teeth together. Death would be too light a punishment for the one responsible for this betrayal.
Nyriaana pitched into him and he grabbed her arm in a firm grip to stop her falling as her knees almost gave out.
Angry tears stood in Haana’s eyes. “You cannot do this to us, Aardn.” Her gaze
flickered to her mate in Aardn’s shadow. Oraan’s face remained composed as he stood beside his fellow Elder but Daajir could not miss the strain on his face.
“I must!” The Elder snapped and Daajir’s heart swelled in agreement. What was one life when actions were needed to save the many? “This time, I cannot even say that it was a Wove who did this to us.”
“Then you are sentencing us to death,” Haana spat. Her gaze was accusing as she stared Oraan down. “Just know that if my daughter dies, I will too.”
“If it comes to that, then the blame lies with the traitor standing hidden among you.” Aardn’s words hung brutally in the air.
Daajir narrowed his eyes as he scanned the small crowd around him, looking for the merest hint of guilt. How he would love to be the one to catch the traitor.
“Go!” Aardn barked. “There is no more to be said.”
Growling low in his throat, Daajir yanked Nyriaana away for she seemed unable to move under her own power. He felt like shaking her. What good was despondency now? Now was the time for action and to bring those responsible for this horror to account: the monsters without and now those from within. He would punish them all.
“Traitors!” Daajir burst out again once they were back inside Nyriaana’s tree. “Isn’t it enough that we are being stalked by the Woves without having to watch for traitors within our own family?”
Her skin was clammy under his hand. She did not respond to his question. She was blank, eyes unseeing. Well, if she was too weak for anything other than staring into space, then he would go on alone.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “I cannot sit here making a bower while a traitor hides in our midst. I must go and speak with Aardn and know what is to be done. Will you be able to manage on your own?”
Nyri jerked her head once. Daajir sighed. She could not help being weak. She was young and frightened. What she needed was a show of strength. Biting down on his impatience, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Do not worry, Nyriaana, we will catch whoever it is. They will pay.”
* * *
They will pay.
Nyri left her tree, struggling to hold on to her composure. She couldn’t concentrate on the bower any more than Daajir. She needed to go somewhere, anywhere to escape her fear and guilt. Automatically, she made her way to Baarias’ home.
The news that food was being stolen had hit her teacher as hard as everyone else. She could feel the anger at the betrayal burning just beneath Baarias’ calm exterior. She could not look him in the face any more than Daajir. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake.
“H-how is Kyaati?” she asked in a strangled voice. Her palms were still sweating from what she had just heard from the Elders and Daajir. Another wave of nausea rolled through her stomach.
“Still sleeping,” he answered her question and frowned. “She retired before Ninmah last night. You must hurry with your preparations, Nyriaana.”
“We’re working as quickly as we can, Baarias.”
“Good. See if you can wake her. I’ll make my visit to the stores.” The catch in his voice at the end closed Nyri’s throat.
She shuffled into the next chamber where Kyaati slept. She shook one thin shoulder. “Kyaati?”
The lavender eyes opened reluctantly. “So, Baarias has sent you to wake me from my refuge this morning?”
Nyri tried not to shiver at her cold tone. “He is getting food.”
“You should not be wasting rations on me,” Kyaati muttered. “Save them for someone who actually has an interest in living.”
“Kyaati!” Nyri’s tenuous composure shook.
Kyaati waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You feed me or you don’t. No one is going to live through the Fury now, even if they wish it. It is over.”
“Kyaati, stop, please,” Nyri begged. “Don’t say that! It is not over.” There had to be a way. A reason for it all.
“Yes it is.”
“Baarias!” A shout tore through the healer’s tree. “Baarias!”
Nyri rushed out of the chamber to greet Haana. “Haana, Baarias isn’t here, he’s_”
“I need him!” The other woman beseeched. “Please, he is the only one who can help.”
“Haana?” To Nyri’s relief, Baarias had appeared in the entranceway.
Haana turned from Nyri and threw herself on her knees before him, clutching at the leaves around his waist as the tears spilled from her eyes. “Wise akaab, please help me. You must help me.” She lifted a shaking hand to reveal one small chunk of gora root. “This is all I am allowed to take. It is not enough. My daughter… my daughter… Baarias, you have to speak to Aardn! She will listen to you. Please make her see sense! My family needs more.”
Nyri felt like she would die right there. Agony ripped across Baarias’s worn face as he bent to take Haana by the elbows. When he spoke, his voice sounded as old as Sefaan’s. “Haana, please understand, there is nothing I can do. Aardn will not relent on her ruling; not for me, not for anyone.”
“Baarias, I cannot watch her die! She is starving. She is in pain. Help me, help me.”
“I-I’m so sorry.”
Haana crumpled at his feet, her body wracked with sobs.
Baarias crouched down before her and held out his hand. Upon it was his own ration. “Here. Take this. It is as much as I can give.”
Haana seemed to shrink before him, the last of the hope dying in her eyes. She took the ration he offered. “Thank you, master akaab,” she murmured and left without another word, moving as one who knew her days were now numbered.
29
Vision
Nyri could not stand it a moment longer, she could not bear to see the expression on Baarias’ face. “Excuse me,” she said quickly and ran from Baarias’ home. Blind, she fled across the eshaara grove and burst into Sefaan’s tree without announcement.
The old Kamaali had been sitting, idly toying with the enu seed around her neck. She did not appear surprised by Nyri’s arrival.
“I can’t do this, Sefaan!” she burst out. “I want to save our people. But how can I go on doing what I am? In trying to save them this way, I am only bringing about their doom! Please, tell me what to do! Please. I am lost!”
“The boy must live.” There was no waver in the ancient voice.
“But what good is it for him to save us, only for us to starve to death? What is the meaning of all this? Why do I have to be the one to make this choice?”
“I cannot help you, Nyriaana, I only know as much as the Great Spirit whispers. Our fate is in your hands. You must choose between your love for him or loyalty to your people.”
Nyri dropped her head into her hands, panting.
Sefaan’s touch ghosted across her right elbow. “If it helps, I believe that helping this boy is the right path. But it is what you believe that matters. You are the one who has been chosen for this task and you are the one who has to bear the burden in the end, whatever that may be.”
Nyri sniffed through her tears. “How do I choose, Sefaan?”
“Listen to the Great Spirit for yourself and perhaps it will help you decide. I will show you what I see.” The old Kamaali reached up to place a hand on Nyri’s heart. Nyri felt the energy around them gather and seep through her skin. Follow me. Tentatively, Nyri reached out to join Sefaan in the flow of KI.
Visions began to flicker through her mind. She saw a woman, stumbling through the snow on open ground. She was racing for her life, running from the dark enemies behind her. Nyri knew instinctively that she was a Ninkuraa though she was wrapped in a mixture of dark grey and brown furs. In one hand she held a spear and, in a sling around her body, her other arm clutched a green-eyed baby to her breast. The Great Spirit swirled lovingly around the image for a moment before the vision shattered to be replaced by pictures that she recognised, images of her and Juaan as children, images of Juaan sitting trapped in the Pit and with it a sense of certainty that if he died, all hope for her people’s future would die, too.
>
But why?
The vision shifted and became unfamiliar. She was no longer in the forest, Nyri found herself flanked on both sides by faces of sheer rock. Snow swirled in this cold, forbidding place and she shivered as though she were truly there.
Where are the trees? Her breathing hitched in panic, she felt exposed, unprotected. A dark, flat expanse stretched out before her. It was water. Steam was rising from the black surface.
She focused and saw to her surprise that a fur-clad figure was crouched at the waterside. The figure stiffened though Nyri had not made a sound; it seemed to sense it was being watched. Nyri held her breath as the figure straightened up. She was female, her dark hair billowed out in the wind. Nyri gasped. A familiar coiling symbol ran between her brow. The enu seed of a eshaara tree rested at her throat.
A Kamaali!
As though the realisation had called her by name, the stranger abruptly lifted her head. Green eyes pierced Nyri’s soul. The girl smiled in recognition and reached out with a hand to beckon her…
“Ah!” Nyri yanked herself away from the vision, breaking contact with Sefaan. The Kamaali’s tree re-materialised around her as she fought to regain her breath. She shook her head but the green eyes continued to stare from behind her lids, calling for her.
“Who was that?”
“Ariyaana,” Sefaan replied. “Now you see her and only you can find her. Her fate is tied to yours and she is waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?” Nyri was still breathless from the intensity of the vision. “What was that place? Is she the next Kamaali?”
“I believe she is the one we have been waiting for.”
“But… she is not Ninkuraaja. She is like Juaan. Forbidden. How can she be Kamaali?”
Sefaan shook her head. “I do not know. I only know what I see. You have to find her and this boy can help you.”
Nyri pictured Haana’s despairing face, the depleted stores, a Fury of starvation that stretched before them and how she was the cause. She thought of the Woves and their Forbidden leader trapped inside the Pit.
