Daughter of Ninmah

by Lori Holmes

  Hope died in her eyes. Let the Elders do what they would.

  43

  Prophesy

  Nyri returned to her tree. She thought of Kyaati as she was in her youth and she thought of Juaan. Both lost to her in their own way. Kyaati soon to death and Juaan to memory. She was alone. Baarias’ anger may have subsided but she had lost his trust and regard forever. She had lost everything she had ever held dear. Nyri lay there and the shadows lengthened towards the fateful evening.

  When Baarias came for her, it was almost a relief. “It’s time,” he said gravely. They both knew what he meant. Tonight her sentence would be passed. She wondered if anyone had ever survived zykeil with the whole tribe before. Zykeil with Pelaan and Oraan alone would be enough for anyone to lose their minds. She followed Baarias silently to the clearing. He supported her by an elbow whenever she stumbled.

  “Baarias, what is it like?” she asked.

  He looked down at her, eyes tight. His expression was enough. She did not ask again.

  There was an air of anticipation as they gathered. Half good, half bad. Word had spread of Daajir’s plan to take back their supplies and that had sparked a glimmer of hope. The bad… Nyri didn’t have to think too far to figure the reason for that.

  She settled herself numbly at the rear of the gathering, out of sight and away from the stares that she was still drawing.

  “Where is Sefaan?” She had searched hopefully for the Kamaali but Sefaan was not there.

  “She has shut herself away,” Baarias answered. “She is in communion with the Great Spirit. Out of respect, nobody has gone near. Her absence has has suited the Elders very much, I have to say.”

  “Ah.” Fixing her eyes upon the ground, Nyri attempted to mask her presence as much as possible. She forgot just how skilled she had become at this. There was a curse as someone tripped over her. She received an angry glare before her unintentional victim walked on.

  Imaani came to Baarias’ side.

  “How is Omaal?” Nyri’s erstwhile teacher asked.

  “Sleeping,” Imaani said with a look of relief. “I wish to speak to you Baarias about these dreams. I am concerned.” He glanced at Nyri with a frown. She stared determinedly at a stone in the earth.

  “I will attend him following the auscult.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What is wrong with Omaal?” she murmured.

  “The dreams he has been having since the night the Woves attacked will not pass. They keep him awake and he is weakened from the lack of sleep.”

  I know the feeling. “Do they still involve the Woves?”

  “It varies between that and the Pits. You were close to the Pits when he was almost killed by the grishnaa, were you not?”

  Nyri had tensed when Baarias mentioned the Pits. She forced herself to relax her shoulders. “Yes, yes we were.” Nyri agreed quickly. Omaal had been nowhere near the Pits since then.

  A hush fell over the tribe as Aardn took her place. “As promised we gather once more to decide on what our path should be. Flee or fight. Both present great risk to us and we will not decide until we are certain which path presents us with the greatest chance of survival. To flee means that we face a shelterless Fury, starvation and no protection. We have faced this before and lost nearly all of our tribe. All would have perished if Ninmah had not blessed us with our current home. Will we be so blessed a second time? Can we chance it? But to stand means fighting beasts much stronger than we are who carry powerful weapons. We have none-”

  “We do now, my most respected Elder.” On cue, Daajir stepped into the circle. “As promised, I have found a way to repel our enemies.” From inside his clothes, he withdrew Juaan’s knife and brandished it proudly before him. He stood as if the weapon lent him some superior power. To Nyri’s eyes, he looked simply foolish but the rest of the tribe gasped and those closest leaned away from the Wove weapon. “The power of this weapon is now ours and I have strengthened it still further with a little of our own. Nothing can withstand it.” He paused for effect.

  “Show us,” Pelaan’s eyes were fervent.

  Nyri dug her nails into her palms. She couldn’t be the only one to see where such a course would lead them.

  Daajir revealed his poison with as much satisfaction and reverence as he had to Nyri out in the forest. Nyri looked to Baarias in helpless supplication but to her surprise, he did not seem to be listening. He did not even appear to see Daajir standing there. His eyes were unfocused, a small frown between his brows. It was as if he were listening to something far away but could not quite make it out. Even as Nyri watched him, he rose to his feet, interrupting Daajir’s self-congratulation. Eyes turned in surprise and annoyance.

  “Baarias,” Aardn asked impatiently. “Do you have something to say?”

  “No, Elder,” he said quietly with the same distant expression upon his face. “Please excuse me. Someone needs me.” He turned and left the auscult, heading in the direction of his home.

  Aardn didn’t appear fazed. On the contrary, she seemed relieved. Nyri guessed she had expected Baarias to be the most vocal detractor from Daajir’s futile plot. Now he was out of the way. Nyri felt naked and alone without him at her side. She did not want to face her coming ordeal without him.

  Daajir finished his speech. “There is no antidote. If the victim is pierced with so much as a drop, they are doomed to die.”

  “How long will it take a victim to succumb?”

  “Days if they are strong,” Daajir said. “Enough time to spread warning among their fellows before dying in agony. The terror will be enough to ward them away.”

  Mutterings started all around Nyri. As she expected, no one seemed to see the wrong in this. The energy on the air was eager, vengeful.

  “You have the paths before you,” Aardn addressed the tribe once the murmuring had subsided. “What say you?”

  There was a collective pause. Everyone was testing the air, testing to see if all were in agreement before venturing an opinion. In the end, it was Imaani who had the courage to rise. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we cannot run any longer. We can all feel it; in the groan of the earth, on the whisper in the wind. The Fury that comes will be like nothing we have ever seen. To leave will mean certain death to us all. We cannot survive what is to come without our homes. I do not want to see my son perish unprotected in the snows. I want to stand and defend him; I want to drive the Woves from our lands for good! They have cursed Omaal’s sight. They have cursed all of our children. We must vanquish Ninsiku’s servants once and for all if these ills are to be cured and the Fury to be stopped!”

  “No!” It took Nyri a moment to realise the outburst had been hers and that she was somehow on her feet. All faces had turned in her direction. Not one was welcoming. All were resentful. Some were filled with outright loathing. Her heart faltered.

  “You have not been given permission to speak,” Aardn barked. “You are Disgraced.”

  Nyri trembled before her but forced the words out. “This path is wrong. Even with Daajir’s weapon, we will not win. There are more of them than us. Killing these few will not stop the rest. There is no curse to break!”

  There was an outbreak of murmuring and shifting of bodies.

  “Please, listen,” Nyri looked around at their incredulous faces. “F-fighting the Woves will not save our people. They are not-”

  “What? Our enemy?” Daajir snapped. He turned, meeting all eyes, hands held out. “I told you she was crazy. She would let the Woves kill us all. You all know how she used to cling to that Forbidden half-breed as a child. Well I say a grishnaa never changes her spots. She was never one of us. She is a heretic. A thief. A traitor to Ninmah herself! She should have no place among our people. Her very presence will anger the great Ninmah and bring further misfortune upon us.”

  “I–” Nyri was stunned into silence. Never one of us.

  “Enough of this! It is time to perform the ritual. Call for Sefaan,” Pelaan snarled. All his
pain and anger for what had befallen Kyaati rolled out for all to feel, raw in his voice. “She will know the pain she has caused and be cast to the elements for what she did to my daughter. Bring her forward.”

  Panic closed Nyri’s throat as hands grabbed her arms and pulled her towards the centre of the circle. She caught Umaa’s eye. The other woman was weeping, guilt scrawled upon her face. Nyri dropped her eyes and stumbled along towards her fate. She knew she should fight but she could not think of a word to say in her own defence. She could never forgive herself for what she had let happen to Kyaati, much less defend herself. She did not want to. Her friend would die because of her. She was forced down to her knees.

  Nyri’s cheeks were wet as she looked up into Aardn’s face, waiting for the words. Aardn was silent.

  “Aardn,” Pelaan hissed, pulling Oraan forward with him. Oraan’s eyes were fixed upon Nyri. His expression was terrible. She bowed her head, balling her fists as her hands trembled uncontrollably. “Aardn.” Pelaan demanded. “It must be done. We must have justice. We must perform zykiel then cast her out.”

  The senior Elder was uncertain, she was reluctant to pass death upon a member of the tribe, even with Daajir’s damning accusations ringing in everyone’s ears. A tribe that desperately needed all of its number.

  “There is another solution,” Aardn said slowly. Nyri held her breath. “Zykiel will indeed be performed as fitting to the crime but instead of casting her out, I suggest she be Joined.”

  Nyri’s breath stuck in her throat.

  “That way her mate will know her every thought and keep their attention on her night and day.” Aardn met each one of their eyes in turn. “She would not be able to spread her poison or betray our people without their knowing. And in this way, she will be serving the tribe and not wasted to death.” The Elder’s gaze came to settle upon Daajir. “Will you accept Nyriaana as your Joined One, Daajir.”

  Nyri felt the blood drain from her face at the same time she saw Daajir’s skin flush with anger.

  “No!” He balked, the disgust was thick in his tone as he looked down on Nyri. “Such traitorous filth is not worthy of me! I do not have-”

  A look from Aardn silenced his protest. “She will not be a traitor under your guard,” she said firmly. “She is a strong match for you, Daajir. Would you let your prejudice stand in the way of fulling Ninmah’s most sacred plan?”

  Daajir ground his teeth together. “No, my respected Elder.”

  “Then you will accept this woman as your mate?”

  He paused for a long time, the skin upon his face twitching. “I accept her.” He eventually forced his agreement through his tight lips. “I will make sure she causes no more harm. She will be a mother to strong children once the Wove curse has been lifted. My children whom I will raise to be true Ninkuraaja.”

  Revulsion swept through Nyri. She almost threw herself at Aardn’s feet and begged for Pelaan’s sentence. Anything. She could not be Joined to Daajir. A cold sweat started all over her body.

  Aardn raised an eyebrow appraisingly. “Very well. After the ritual has been performed. She will become your Joined One, Daajir.”

  Nyri crumpled to the floor, her forehead in the earth. It was done. She had lost. Aardn stepped forward. “I will perform the ritual. We will not wait for Sefaan.”

  Nyri gasped as she felt the Elder’s hand come down on her head. She forced herself to look into Oraan’s eyes and trembled. She knew what was within would tear her apart as certainly as being Joined to Daajir. She closed her eyes.

  “Stop!” a voice rang out. The wave of energy that accompanied it had them all on their feet. Baarias was running towards them. His face was grave. Nyri’s heart skipped a beat. Baarias would not interrupt an auscult unless…

  No, Nyri swayed under Aardn’s hand. Kyaati.

  Pelaan’s thoughts paralleled hers. “My daughter. Baarias…”

  “Your daughter yet lives,” Baarias gripped his arm. “It is Sefaan. She is dying.”

  A current of shock passed around the whole tribe.

  Sefaan. Everything was unravelling so fast. Too fast. Sefaan was dying? Nyri hadn’t seen her since….

  Aardn had her hand to her throat. “I must go to her.” She moved to step around Baarias.

  “No,” Baarias caught her arm. “She has asked for Nyriaana.”

  “She cannot see her,” Pelaan started. “She is sentenced. We were just about to pass-”

  “Even so,” Baarias cut him off. “She is asking for Nyri and Nyri alone. From this she will not be swayed. It is her last request. You can perform your punishment when she is gone if you wish but not now. Nyri,” he held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  Nyri didn’t trust her own legs so she took Baarias’ hand and let him pull her to her feet. He led her through the crowd back to his dwelling. She was conscious that the rest of the tribe were following carefully. Their emotions were tremulous. The last Kamaali was dying. What would become of a tribe without a spirit guide? There was still no sign of another child. Fear stood openly in all eyes. This was a terrible omen.

  The girru moss glowed on the walls and danced in the air as they entered the great tree. The warmth caressed Nyri’s cheeks. She had not known how cold she was until that moment. She trembled.

  Sefaan had been laid on a bower next to Kyaati. “Nyriaana,” her voice was barely a whisper. She held out her hand and it shook on the air. “Girl.”

  Nyri caught the frail hand in hers, falling to her knees beside the Kamaali. The fleshless fingers were skin and bone. Cold as stone. “Sefaan,” her voice broke. “What happened? Why are you…?” Nyri’s free hand fluttered helplessly over the emaciated body.

  She did not answer. Nyri turned to Baarias.

  His face was grave. “Nobody guessed she was not feeding herself. Nobody thought to look…” he trailed off and turned away abruptly. Nyri felt his rage and guilt as her own. She looked down at the ancient woman lying before her, dying of starvation and exposure and knew she had failed yet another person who she cared about. She had been so caught up between her duties to Juaan and to Kyaati, she had not given one thought to Sefaan’s wellbeing. She had only thought about what the Kamaali could have done to save Juaan for her. Nyri’s breath shuddered in her throat. She was so selfish. She had not been here for her people.

  “I’m so sorry, Sefaan.” Nyri stroked the white hair back from her crinkled brow. “I’m sorry. I have failed in everything. The Elders will cast me out. I will answer for it all.” Nyri hardly knew what she was saying. The words were tumbling out.

  The Kamaali’s eyes opened and glared at Nyri piercingly. “No. You must live.” She pointed a shaking finger at Kyaati. “She also must live. It is the only hope.”

  “Kyaati is dying, Sefaan,” Nyri told her miserably. “She threw herself from a tree and I was not there to save her. She is almost gone.” Nyri could feel it. Kyaati would not last the night.

  “No!” Sefaan suddenly pulled herself from the pile of moss. Baarias appeared, trying to make her lay back down but she shook him off stubbornly, fighting her way to Kyaati’s side. She took a limp hand in her own. “You are not going anywhere, foolish girl. You are needed,” she said and her eyes closed. Nyri’s skin prickled. “All my power I give to you so that you may live.”

  Nyri would never recall quite what happened next. All she felt was a charge in the air as if a lightning storm had been summoned. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. The energy moved from Sefaan through the hand that clutched Kyaati’s and into the sleeping form. Bones healed, bruising disappeared, cuts vanished. Then it was done. The sense of immense power retreated and Sefaan collapsed to the floor. A husk.

  Kyaati’s chest rose and fell. Rose and fell. Deeply.

  “She… will live now,” Sefaan’s voice was a fading croak. Nyri scooped her up in her arms and lifted the Kamaali back onto her bed. It was close. So close. Nyri was startled when Sefaan caught her face between her palms. “You are the fruit th
at will bear the seed.” Her eyes rolled, straining to keep Nyri in view. She pulled the enu seed from her throat and pressed it into Nyri’s hand. “Give this to Ariyaana. Keep the boy. Remember what I said. She will save us… she will show us the way. Find…”

  “Ariyaana.” Nyri finished, clutching the acorn to her. Her tears fell on the old one’s cheeks. “Sefaan…”

  “Promise… me.” Sefaan’s eyes searched hers and Nyri knew instinctively that Sefaan would not rest, could not go until she had heard these two words from Nyri’s lips.

  “I promise,” Nyri lied.

  Sefaan smiled then. It lit her wise face for one final time as the last of her life’s energy went out of her. Nyri felt her leave. Her spirit rose on the air, visible only to those who knew how to see with the eyes of their soul, then disappeared. The Last Kamaali had become one with the Great Spirit. Where she belonged. Nyri heard a wail go up from outside as the whole tribe felt it.

  With trembling fingers, Nyri closed the eyes that still stared silently into hers, boring that last request into her soul. The old face, however, was oddly at peace, assured by Nyri’s final lie.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Behind Nyri, Kyaati gasped and opened her eyes.

  44

  Betrayal

  Baarias let her down from the stag. Nyriaana struggled in his arms, fighting to run back into the forest, back to her burning home.

  “Don’t,” the voice was frayed with sadness. “Don’t, you’ll hurt yourself. He is gone.”

  “No!” She fought harder. “Juaan!” she screamed into the forest behind. He would come back. He had promised he would never leave her. He never broke his promises. But as her shrill cry shivered into nothingness, this time there came no answering call. The empty space yawned behind, dark and desolate. Gone. The trees whispered. Gone. She screamed and wailed in Baarias’ restraining arms. “Juaan!”