by Lori Holmes
The Elder spotted the tragic scene before her. Her lips went white as she stumbled backwards, bracing herself against the tree wall.
“We have lost Naaya,” Baarias spoke heavily. “And, through her, Haana.”
A tightening of thin lips was Aardn’s only acknowledgement as she pushed herself upright and went to Oraan in the corner. Aardn took his arm and pulled him after her, leaving the tree and his dead family behind.
Helplessly, Baarias got up to follow. He took hold of both Nyri and Kyaati. “Come,” he beckoned. “It is too late. There is nothing more that we can do here.”
Nyri felt nothing as she climbed back down the tree. You did this, her mind told her over and over. YOU.
The power of Aardn’s will rolled over the eshaara grove. The rest of the tribe’s faces were grim as they felt the tenor of the Elder’s energy. Some looked aghast at Oraan, reading the truth of what had happened in the youngest Elder’s eyes before Aardn even spoke.
“We have lost two of our family.” Aardn’s grief barely concealed the fury raging beneath. “To the thief who is the cause of this tragedy, I promise you this. When you are caught, you will not only suffer expulsion from the tribe for your crimes, but I will also call for the right of zykiel to be performed for the whole tribe. So help me you will know the depth of the pain that you have caused.” She pushed the mute Oraan forward. The dead look in the man’s eyes was dreadful to behold.
Nyri was glad Baarias was still supporting her by the arm. If he hadn’t have been, she knew she would have fallen, cowering to the floor. Most of the tribe gathered around Oraan, touching him, murmuring, supporting the bereaved with their energy, promising vengeance.
“Aardn!” Daajir’s voice cut over the soft voices. “Aardn I need to speak with you.”
Vomit threatened in the back of Nyri’s throat. “Excuse me, Baarias,” she croaked. He took one look at her clammy skin and let her go. She turned and ran, the tears streaming down her face. The deaths of Naaya and Haana were on her hands as much as they were the Woves. She dove into the trees, intent on emptying the contents of her stomach in the undergrowth.
Nyri was so caught up in her pain that she tripped over something warm and solid lying in her path. She crashed to the ground, taking the heavy object with her.
Muffling a cry of surprise, Nyri struggled to right herself. As she got back to her feet her eyes widened as she saw Umaa crumpled on the ground beside her.
“I’m s-sorry!” She stooped to help Umaa back onto her feet. “I wasn’t paying-”
Her words trailed away as she stared down at Umaa. The other tribeswoman was sniveling helplessly. An armful of food had spilled from a concealed pouch and scattered upon the ground before Nyri’s eyes.
“Umaa… what-what is this?”
A shout went up from the eshaara grove. Daajir’s voice. “Javaan saw someone run this way! Quickly!”
Umaa grasped Nyri’s arm. “P-please, Nyri, don’t give me away. If they perform zykiel, I will lose my mind.”
Nyri’s eyes widened as her brain caught up. “You’re the thief?”
Umaa continued to grip her arm nodding helplessly as her face crumpled, shaking with silent sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. The Woves killed that little girl but I have helped. I have to put it b-back.” Her hands fluttered helplessly over her spilled load.
Nyri fell back, dumbstruck. She wasn’t the one. She was not responsible. Now the reason for her own careful takings being missed so easily made sense. Another, far more prolific thief had been at work. It had been Umaa all along. No wonder Omaal was still strong. There was food enough here to keep a family fed for days on end.
Nyri dropped her head into her hands, gripping her hair in her fists as the enormity of this discovery hit her.
“Does Imaani know?”
Umaa nodded.
Another piece clicked into place. “That’s why he was so eager to take me to the Elders. If I was named the thief…” Her anger spiked. They had hoped to place the blame on her.
“Nyriaana, please,” Umaa begged. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell them. I can’t face zykiel with Oraan and the whole tribe. I can’t.”
“But, why, Umaa, why did you do it? Little Naaya…” Nyri’s anger was mounting. She had been tormenting herself all this time. She had nearly been turned over to the Elders in Umaa’s place. Juaan could have been-
“Kyaati!” Aardn’s voice came from beyond the undergrowth, demanding. Both Nyri’s and Umaa’s head snapped around. “Have you seen anybody? Has anyone come this way?”
“No.” Nyri listened to Kyaati’s soft, disinterested voice.
Nyri released her hair and turned her face towards the sound of Aardn’s voice. She should call out and turn Umaa over to the Elder to face her rightful punishment. Naaya and her mother were dead because of her selfishness. There was no way of telling if they would have survived the Fury at all following the consequences of the Wove raid, but their chances would have been greater had it not been for Umaa’s actions. The rations might not have been halved to beyond the little girl’s endurance. Omaal’s mother was guilty of her death. She deserved zykiel, to know Oraan’s pain as her own.
There was a rustling in the undergrowth close by. “Just wait until I catch you.” A voice hissed. Nyri recognised it as Daajir’s. “You’ll be begging for the Elders’ punishment when I am finished.” There was something about his voice that made the hairs stand on the back of Nyri’s neck.
Umaa’s face paled and she threw herself on her knees before Nyri. “Please Nyriaana,” she whispered. “Do not do this. You do not have a child yet. You do not understand. Omaal was hungry. I cannot bear to see him go hungry! He needs me. He needs me still. Without me, he will die. Please. If someone needed you that badly, if you loved them that much, what would you have done?”
The plea stole the betraying call from her lips and left her cold. Nyri knew all to well what she would do. She had done it, she was still doing it. She might not be taking food from the stores but she was still keeping vital food from her people. And she wasn’t even using it to feed a starving child of her own blood. She was using it to feed their enemy. She shuddered. She wasn’t as guilty as the woman before her; she was worse.
She stared into Umaa’s desperate, tear stained face and crumbled. She could not do it. She may as well turn herself in. She sank to the ground in defeat. For better or worse, she could not alert Aardn.
“It’s okay, Umaa,” she comforted through her own tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I will not tell them. Just promise me, promise me, you will not do it again. Promise.”
Umaa’s relief washed over her. “I p-promise. I know I was wrong. I just… couldn’t help myself. Omaal…”
Nyri nodded, putting a hesitant arm around her trembling shoulders. “I understand, Umaa.” She cast her eyes to the sky. “I understand, more than you can possibly know.”
39
Raknari
The proceeding days following the loss of Naaya and her mother were difficult. Umaa had returned the food to the store with Nyri’s help. Nyri could not let herself rest. The lifeless faces of Naaya and her mother haunted her dreams, depriving her of what little sleep she had. There were times when she could barely think.
She worried for Kyaati. Her dear friend remained withdrawn and increasingly untouchable. Nyri’s heart broke for her each morning as she would bring food and it would be rejected. Kyaati would barely even make eye contact anymore. She had grown noticeably worse since the day her father had taken her from Baarias’ home and the deaths within the tribe. Baarias was helpless and that was what scared Nyri the most. In her bones, she began to fear that their battle for Kyaati was lost. She would simply let herself waste away.
Life for the rest of the tribe teetered on the edge. Suspicion ran rife and tempers were strained. The ever-present menace of the Woves’ return threatened to bring tensions to breaking point. Panic vibrated just beneath the surface of every waking moment. The Elders were
struggling to keep them together. Sometimes it felt that the simple falling of a leaf could blow everything apart.
The only thing that kept Nyri sane was the time she spent with Juaan. Every night she would creep away to the Pits where she attempted to teach Juaan the Ninkuraaja ways. Lessons were difficult and frustrating. They took her to the limits of her patience and far beyond his.
Juaan struggled to evoke the Great Spirit within him. There had been a few colourful outbursts to say the least. Sometimes he became so ‘Wove’ in his temper that he frightened her. But it was only in those outbursts that his Gift truly came to the fore and the results were not what either of them had hoped for. Each time Nyri placed a seed or a plant in his palm in the hopes that he could influence the life inside, his power would blaze forth and utterly consume it. A pile of blackened plants and seeds now littered the Pit.
Nyri was frustrated with herself. She had never had to teach that which came so naturally to her people before and never had she known a power such as Juaan’s. She must be doing something wrong and she longed for a wiser mind. She had even asked Sefaan but the increasingly frail Kamaali had refused to come. Nyri was on her own.
Very occasionally, however, when she guided him with her own Gift, Juaan would succeed and the expression on his face in those times was so boyish with wonder, a lump would invariably rise in Nyri’s throat. Despite its unpredictability, Juaan’s connection with the Great Spirit inside him was becoming more honed. He could feel the energy that much more easily though calling it forth on his own was still hit and miss.
Very occasionally, however, Juaan would succeed and the expression on his face in those times was so boyish with wonder, a lump would invariably rise in Nyri’s throat. The hard, suspicious look in his eyes existed less and less. The lines of his face became softer.
At times Nyri fancied, that when he looked at her, she saw a liking there, the barest hint of fondness. She would even go so far as to say he was enjoying her company. Not that that meant much. She was his only company. But often a banter would arise between them and it was as if they had never been apart and he had never lost his memories. Nyri lived for those moments. Their friendship was beginning anew.
“Nyriaana!”
She jolted from her thoughts and stared guiltily up at Baarias. She had drifted and there again was that look upon his worn face, half frustration, half concern. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “As I was saying, the brodak herb can be very effective at drawing poison from wounds should you need to treat anyone who has been bitten by a snake or stung by the vaash plant. I used this to great effect on Daajir.”
Kyaati was also sitting in on the lesson of herb lore. Nyri did not know if her friend was taking anything in, but she liked to think that listening to their voices helped her. Even if this particular lesson was dull. Nyri felt her eyes drifting closed once more. She swore stones had been woven to her lids.
Finally Baarias finished his teaching and he released them for the day. He caught Nyri’s arm as she turned to leave.
“Are you sure you are well?”
“Yes.” She attempted a reassuring smile.
He was not so easily swayed. Not anymore. He caught her face between his hands and brushed his thumbs against the skin under her eyes where doubtless dark circles lay. His eyes searched hers. Nyri kept her thoughts in a tight ball, out of reach and her expression smooth.
“There is something…” he hedged. “Promise me that you will come to me if there is anything wrong.” His concern tore at Nyri’s heart. She wished she could say something to set his mind at rest. Ever since they had been interrupted that day when Baarias had opened her eyes, the urge to tell him of Juaan had not risen again. Sefaan had forbid it and Nyri could not take the risk. His fear of the Woves was too great.
She caught his hands at her face. “I promise, Baarias. I will always come to you.” But I can’t about this, she thought sadly. She hated keeping secrets from him. She was betraying him. Although she knew it was necessary if she wanted Juaan to live, she loathed what she had become.
He didn’t let go of her face. “Please. You are all I have now, Nyri. I cannot lose you.” He knew something was wrong and it danced just outside of his understanding.
Nyri’s breath caught in her throat. She saw the strain and the fear in Baarias’ face. He was suffering as much as anyone else.
Nyri bowed her forehead against his. “I promise, Baarias. You are all I have, too.” She let him feel the love and respect she felt for him flow through the contact.
When they pulled apart, his eyes were over-bright with emotion. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “You best be off. Take care of Kyaati.”
Nyri nodded to him, smiling. “I will.”
“Nyri,” Kyaati murmured as they took their leave. Nyri started at the sound of her voice; a rare thing to be heard now, for sure. “Can we go home? I want to sleep.”
The corners of Nyri’s mouth pulled down. Kyaati was retiring earlier and earlier, less and less interested in being a part of life. Wanting to sleep while Ninmah was still in the sky was a new low.
“Don’t you want to go and visit Sefaan?” Nyri tried to think of something that would take her interest. “Her stories always make us smile.” Nyri would’ve liked to visit the Kamaali herself. She needed the reassurance of her wisdom, to be told once again that she was doing the right thing.
Kyaati shook her head stubbornly. “I just want to sleep.” There was a bite to her voice that told Nyri that she would be wasting her energy arguing with her.
Nyri acquiesced and lead Kyaati back to her tree. She was startled to find Daajir half way up into the branches.
“Hey!” she called indignantly. “What are you doing?”
He dropped back to the ground. “Aardn has ordered a search of the trees to try and catch whomever is hording food. The thief must be caught.”
Nyri felt her blood run cold. “You are going to search now?”
“Yes.” He started to move forward towards the trunk again. Nyri blocked his path quickly. Her mouth had gone dry. If Daajir found the gathering baskets hidden within her bower, she was finished. She would be held responsible for the deaths of Haana and Naaya and nothing she could say would change their minds.
“Daajir,” she fought to keep the panic from her voice and inject the right amount of indignation, “do you really think I am the thief? How could you even think that of me?”
“It does not matter what I think, Nyri,” he said brusquely. “Aardn told me to search every home, no exceptions.”
“Daajir,” she put a hand to his chest to stop him, “please be reasonable. You have been with me nearly every day, inside this tree every day making the bower. Kyaati has been with me ever since. Either of you would have seen if I had been hoarding food. I am not the thief. Please Daajir, Kyaati needs her rest.” She pressed her hand to his shoulder. She is very fragile. Please don’t upset her any more.
He hesitated, thinking through her logic, his eyes flickered to where Kyaati stood distant and brooding and he relented. “Fine, I suppose you’re right.” He looked her up and down critically. “The thief certainly would look better fed than you do right now. I’m sorry. And I am sorry for the way I spoke to you the other day. You did not deserve it.”
“Forget it,” Nyri said, ready to say anything to get him to leave. “Thank you for understanding, Dar. I will take Kyaati to rest now.”
He nodded his consent and stepped back.
Nyri let out the breath she had been holding and led Kyaati up into the branches. She could hardly believe she had gotten away with dissuading Daajir so easily.
Kyaati lay down inside her bower and said no more. Within moments her breathing deepened and she was gone. Nyri was left staring down at her, feeling slightly lost. Her friend’s soft breaths lulled her. Sleep begged her to pay it a visit as well but she could not let herself give in. She could not face her nightmares. She needed something to do.
Her hear
t gave a little jump as the thought struck. With Kyaati sleeping, she could make a rare day-time visit to Juaan. Nyri longed to see his face out of the shadow of night. It would lift her spirits and she could forget her troubles for a time.
Nyri stood, shifting from foot to foot, deciding. It was risky but her desire to go was overpowering and it soon overcame her better judgement. Taking a familiar precaution, she pressed her fingers against Kyaati’s temples and drew her down into that deeper sleep. She would not wake now until Nyri returned.
She peered out of the tree. Daajir was nowhere in sight. She was sure he would not disturb them now she had suggested his interference could set Kyaati back. She left her friend inside her tree and slipped out into the forest in a well-worn routine. Nyri could guess almost exactly where each of the sentinels stood watch now. Their places had become habit as had hiding her presence. At least Daajir had been right about one thing: the Woves had not returned since he had pierced one of them with a vaash barb.
Juaan raised his eyebrows when she appeared.
“A daytime visit? I am honoured.”
“You should be. I’m a busy elf.” She had grudgingly come to accept his name for her people just as he had come to grudgingly accept her calling him Juaan. He had given up correcting her.
He tilted his head, concern shadowing his eyes much as it had Baarias. “You look exhausted. You should take time to rest, you are not getting enough.”
Nyri rubbed her scratchy eyes, irritation flaring at his words. I wish people would stop telling me that! “I wonder whose fault that is?”
“Yours. I’m not keeping myself down here, you know.”
Nyri growled and handed him the food she had brought. He smiled at her annoyance and ate hungrily. Nyri sat down with her back pressed against the hard rock and rested her eyes. Just for a few moments…
She listened to the soothing bird song above and its accompaniment of whispering leaves. They rattled dryly; the decline proceeding at a rapid pace. The temperature was plummeting ever lower. The nights were uncomfortable and soon would become unforgiving. It wouldn’t be long until the tribe moved to Baarias’ tree to sleep together for shared warmth.
