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Outlier

Page 8

by L. J. Hachmeister


  As the girl looked nervously back and forth between the flap and Nya, she unbelted her weapons and started shedding her wet clothes. “You’ve got a lot to learn if you really want to be one of us.”

  Nya hated Sen’s expression. Innocent confusion; a face unscored by bitterness and years of disappointment. And those big hazel eyes, wide and still searching for answers, not expecting the worst.

  “First thing: your beast out there—”

  “Akoto,” Sen interjected.

  With a huff, Nya continued. “Akoto. Don’t get attached. No day out here is guaranteed.”

  Sen’s brow scrunched together, but she didn’t argue, just curled her knees up to her chest and watched Nya’s every move.

  Several flashes of lightning preceded a peal of thunder. Nya checked the oil in the clay lamp atop the small wooden bench housing her collection of personal items. Judging by the low levels, they’d need to scavenge or go on a raid for more supplies in the next day anyway.

  Nya stifled a smile as she pulled off her drenched top. This is how I’ll convince Osan to authorize a raid.

  (Sho… I’m coming.)

  “How did you get those?”

  The question jarred her from her thoughts. Nya grabbed her shirt and covered up the criss-crossing scars on her stomach.

  “That’s not your business.”

  Sen’s shoulders hiked up to her ears. “Sorry…They just don’t look like the rest.”

  No, they didn’t. All the other scars on her body came from battles or rites of passage, forming either a singular mark or a distinct pattern. Not the chaotic, successive strokes that simultaneously sheltered and projected her darkest secrets.

  Nya continued to disrobe, this time shielding the old wounds she did not want to explain. As she pulled on a thin pair of pants and shirt, the only clothes other than her armor left in her possession, she caught Sen still eyeing her up and down.

  “You got a problem?”

  Looking down at her fumbling hands, Sen muttered the word, no, but then paused. “You’ve got more muscle than most boys.”

  Nya tore down her smile before it could even form. “You’re still seeing the world from the other side of the wall. Out here we don’t have great feasts with cream cakes and cherry dumplings to make us fat. And our women fight just like the men, not get married off to forge false allegiances and pop our heirs in some ancient tradition that already died once.”

  Sen licked her lips, as if the mere mention of cream cakes and cherry dumplings awakened her hunger pains.

  Finished with their conversation, Nya pulled out one of the blankets from underneath Sen, making her yelp as she toppled over. Without giving her so much as an apology or a glance, the warrior made a place for herself near the wooden bench, counting the lightning strikes and thunder crashes.

  Must be a big fight, she thought, sitting cross-legged in front of the clay lamp.

  As she tried to concentrate on more important things, she saw Sen out of the corner of her eye pushing her brown hair behind her ears, only to have it fall back in her face. The girl studied her for a while, then rearranged a spot on the remaining blanket to lay down.

  Nya went through her mental list of supplies they’d need for the rescue mission until she heard the girl humming to herself.

  “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  “That ridiculous humming.”

  “Sorry,” Sen said.

  The silence only lasted another minute before the girl found something else to pester her with. “You weren’t really going to kill me for my Determining, were you?”

  Sahib, Nya guessed, rolling her eyes. “Keep bugging me and find out.”

  But after a moment, curiosity got the best of her. “How did you do that fire trick with Akoto anyway?”

  “What fire trick?”

  That pissed her off. “Don’t play stupid, kid. The explosion of light that threw me back. It looked like it came from the fire. Then he appeared right on top of you.”

  Sen bit down on her lower lip, looking like she feared what her answer would elicit. “Dunno.”

  “Useless,” she muttered, turning back to the candlelight and closing her eyes to meditate.

  “No.”

  The sharpness of Sen’s tone got her attention. “No?”

  “No. I’m not useless.”

  Nya grabbed one of the knives strapped to her weapons belt on the tent floor and threw it into Sen’s lap. The girl reared back as if expecting a subsequent blow.

  “Can you hunt? Can I count on you in battle?” Lunging at Sen, she grabbed the knife she threw into the girl’s lap and held it to her throat. “Can you kill?”

  The tears in the girl’s eyes didn’t surprise her, but her response did. “Maybe I won’t have to.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t always have to fight.”

  Sitting back on her feet, Nya dismissed the girl with a hearty laugh and lobbed the knife back near her belt. “Tell Osan that for your initiation.”

  “Initiation?”

  “Yeah. That’s when you choose your weapon, and we take you on your first hunt.”

  Sen’s eyes darted back and forth as she started scratching at the healing spider bites on her right chest and shoulder.

  “Stop that. Stop that,” Nya said, pulling Sen’s hand away and inspecting the wound. “You’re just making it worse.”

  With a sigh, she reached into one of the sacks belted into the waistband of her armored pants, and offered Sen a pinch of crushed red leaves.

  “Chew on these, then rub the paste on the wound. It’ll stop the itching.”

  Sen hesitated, her hand poised above Nya’s.

  “Take it,” she insisted. If she even mentions Natsugra’s beard, I’m going to—

  “Thanks.”

  The girl’s smile brightened her dirty face. Even after all her conditioning, Nya caught herself reacting, feeling something more than the bite of her foul mood.

  Returning once again to her blanket, Nya assumed her cross-legged position and tried to gain meditative focus. She managed to ignore Sen’s loud chomping until a dozen lightning strikes flashed in rapid succession, followed by concussive roll of thunder.

  “Nya…?”

  “What?!”

  “Someone’s attacking the wall.”

  Nya reared around. “Why do you think that?”

  “That’s a mor’tye,” Sen said, removing the mushy red glob from her mouth and smearing it on her shoulder. “A twelve-point attack pattern used by the Guild post.”

  “You know attack patterns?”

  Sen nodded. “My Father was a captain in the guard before he got into politics…”

  This is good, Nya thought, not caring that Sen’s gaze drifted off or that her brow furrowed from some painful recollection. She knows more about the Guild than any of us do.

  In fact, Nya couldn’t recall the last time they ran into a Guild Outlier, even from another clan. Of all the denoms, the shock jockeys kept the tightest reign on their citizens. A child escaping before their Determining just didn’t happen.

  “Wait a minute—how did you escape from the Guild?” Nya asked, casting her suspicion into the question. “Especially if your father is Kajar Hikari. They would have kept you on lockdown right before your Determining.”

  Sen twirled her brown hair around her finger, not looking directly at the warrior. “I ran away in the middle of the night.”

  “Yeah, sure. Just climbed out of your bedroom window.”

  “N-no. Jumped.”

  Nya scoffed. “Jumped?”

  “Onto the canopy tree my mother’s been growing in the palace garden. It’s huge. Almost to my window. Really giant bouncy leaves.”

  Scrutinizing the girl’s face or her posture didn’t give Nya any reason to doubt her. Still, part of her refused to believe the gangly looking kid before her had the gumption to take such a leap.

  “Then?”

  Sen picked at the to
es of her boots, keeping her head down. “I climbed up some overgrown vines to get over the wall… and then…” The young girl opened her hand and made a poof sound. “Disappeared.”

  Nya waited until another series of lightning flashes and thunder crashes passed, watching Sen’s growing concern. She knows more than she even realizes. Might get some use out of her after all…

  As wind and rain pelted the tent, Nya considered all of what Sen had said, and decided to push for anything else she could get out of her. Especially if it could help her find Sho. “So who’s attacking the wall? What kind of enemies does your father have?”

  Sen looked to the tent flap, as if she wanted to run outside, right into the storm.

  Back to her father, Nya realized.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Come on, he’s got enemies. He’s ascending the throne, taking over world power from the Virids…”

  The girl didn’t take the bait. Instead, worry spread across her face, widening her eyes and making her lips tremble. “Do you think he’s okay?”

  “Why do you care?”

  Sen looked shocked at the question.

  “You want to go back? What—you think they’d take in an Outlier like you, especially after you ran away like a ‘shadowless coward?’”

  “But if he’s in trouble, maybe I can—”

  “You’d be killed,” Nya said, not cushioning the blow. “Or worse.”

  Dismay crushed the girl’s shoulders down, making her appear even smaller than before. “I know.”

  “You know what?”

  “My mom never really talked about it, but she had a brother, Haebi. She told me once that he and I were a lot alike. Everyone but my mom said he killed himself before his Determining. Either way, my family made sure he disappeared,” Sen lifted her head, looking at Nya with large hazel eyes. “If I return, I’ll end up like Haebi. Forgotten, erased. Dead one way or another.”

  Before Nya could push her agenda, Sen added: “But that doesn’t mean I can just give up on them.”

  Nya sensed her opportunity. “Once this storm passes, I’m leading a rescue mission. Some of our people are trapped in a place called the Sanctum.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A secret place they keep Outliers. Maybe your uncle is there.”

  Sen perked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be dangerous. We don’t usually venture that far into the Realm. You and Akoto want in?”

  “But what about my parents?” Sen asked, absently scratching at her wounds.

  “We’ll be passing through Guild territory. We can check up on them.”

  A skeptical look crossed her face, but ultimately Sen’s need triumphed over any doubt. “Ok.”

  “Good,” Nya said, going back to her meditative position.

  After a long silence, one that almost had Nya convinced that the kid could be quiet for more than a minute, Sen whispered: “Nya… we’re friends then, right?”

  Nya sighed, trying to figure out some way to avoid answering such a stupid question. “Get some rest, kid.”

  Thunder boomed overhead. Nya lost track of all the lightning flashes, and the occupants of her tent as she concentrated her energy on her objective.

  Nothing will stop me from reaching you, Sho.

  She opened her eyes, looking into the candle flame, seeing the entire world afire.

  Nothing.

  Chapter 9

  As the storm started to dissipate, Sen squeezed out from underneath Akoto’s wing and ran through the drizzle to Chenzin’s tent. Inside, Natsugra sat cross-legged next to the sick woman, eyes closed and waving her hands up and down her body. Sen recognized a few words to her chant, but not many.

  Sounds like beetle-tongue, she thought, cramming herself inside the tent. Maybe Natsugra’s from the Swarm!

  “What are you doing here?” Natsugra said, popping one eye open and frowning. “I told you to stay with Nya.”

  “Nya’s not very fun.”

  The medicine woman patted down her beard to hide her smirk. “Do you know any of the Virid medicine?”

  Sen took a seat, wrapping her arms around her ankles, and shrugged. “My mom was a healer, but…”

  The old woman looked her up and down. “But she didn’t teach you?”

  “No, she tried.” Sen caved under Natsugra’s patient silence. “I just never paid much attention.”

  “Ah, I see. So you’re a daydreamer,” she said, grabbing some wooden bowls and mixing herbs together as she talked. “We’ve had a few like you in the clan. These lands will toughen you up…”

  Natsugra paused as she held Chenzin’s head up to offer her some water from a clay pitcher. “Or take you.”

  Pulling her legs in close, Sen dared to dig a little deeper. “They used to teach us in school that there are only savages, monsters, and disease outside the Realm. I thought they told us that to keep us from sneaking over the wall.”

  Natsugra huffed. “They’re right. What did you expect?”

  The question made her scrunch up her brow. “I didn’t think I’d find people like you.”

  “Savages?”

  “No. Survivors.”

  With a faint smile on her face, Natsugra placed her palm on Chenzin’s forehead, whispered another prayer, and then turned back to Sen. “Our clan has been through much, child, but these last few years have thinned our ranks and have taken down the best of us.”

  “Sickness?”

  “Disease, clan warfare, denom hunters—and yes, those monsters you mentioned. That’s why we have our credo— Without a shadow, I seek only the comfort of darkness, and the freedom of its emptiness. Invisible, we are without attachment, we seek no God, and therefore, are free.”

  The clan logic didn’t make sense to her. “But then why help each other? Why have a clan at all?”

  Natsugra elbowed Sen out of the way to get what she wanted out of the sack next to her hip. “We are without attachment, but that does not mean we are without loyalty to each other. After all, what purpose is there to life if not for your clan, your family?”

  Family.

  Her mother and father’s faces flashed through her mind.

  Choking back the lump in her throat, she waited until she thought her voice wouldn’t falter before speaking again. “Is that why Nya wants to lead a rescue mission inside the Realm?”

  Natsugra reared her head around. “What?”

  Regret and fear spiked her heart. Oh no—maybe it was a secret!

  “Answer me, child—what did Nya say?”

  The old woman gripped her wrist, but the look in her eye portended concern more than punishment. With a wobbly voice, Sen tried to absorb some of the damage she’d already caused. “She wants to save some of your group that got taken. Family is important to her.”

  “Too important,” Natsugra mumbled, letting go of her wrist and shaking her head. “It’s critical to know when to let someone go, Sen. You can’t save everyone—and sometimes the greater good outweighs an individual life no matter how special they are to you.”

  The weight to Natsugra’s words hit her hard, stealing any response she might have.

  “This is about Sho,” the old woman continued with a whisper. “Her greatest love—and her greatest mistake.”

  Confused, Sen didn’t know how to respond. How can loving someone be a mistake?

  She thought of her father, and his grave disappointment in all that Sen wasn’t.

  “I understand,” she whispered.

  Natsugra checked on Chenzin, feeling for the pulse in her neck and the temperature of her ashen skin. “Her spirit grows distant. I’m not sure if she’ll wake up again.”

  “But I thought she was getting better?”

  “Aye, me too. Perhaps she just rallied for you.”

  Not sure how to take Natsugra’s statement, Sen watched as the medicine woman applied a poultice to her forehead.

  “You need to start taking charaza,” Natsugra said, reaching into a sack
out of Sen’s immediate view. She returned back with a handful of black seeds that she offered to Sen. “These will help boost your immunity, give you some protection against what’s out here.”

  “You mean sickness?” Sen said, accepting the black seeds and inspecting them up close. She hadn’t seen anything like them before, not even in her mother’s guidebooks.

  “Yes. There’s always something new infecting our people. Why do you think the favored hide behind that wall?”

  Sen put a seed in her mouth and took a bite. At first there was no flavor, but once the gooey contents touched the back of her tongue, she tasted dirt and spoiled eggs.

  “Ew—”

  “Don’t spit it out,” Natsugra said, covering Sen’s mouth with her hand until she complied.

  “Blech,” Sen said, wiping off her tongue with her sleeve.

  “It’s better than dying, yes?”

  Sen sighed, put the rest in her satchel, and rested her head on her knees. “It’s not going to give me a beard, is it?”

  A look of shock, then anger, crossed Natsugra’s face, but as Sen shrunk back, Natsugra chuckled. “Nya’s our best warrior, but she can’t tell a petal from a thorn.”

  “I know,” Sen said, pulling at the neck of her shirt to show Natsugra the concoction Nya had given her to smear across her spider bites. Curious little green shoots sprouted up from the red paste, some of them already budding yellow flowers.

  “For God’s sake,” Natsugra mumbled, pulling Sen closer to her to have a better look. Still muttering under her breath, the medicine woman pulled over a bowl full of water and a washcloth, and indicated for Sen to take off her shirt.

  “Scrub that off—and then put this on it,” Natsugra said, handing her a pinch of crushed blue leaves.

  After cleaning off and applying the correct medicine, Sen put her shirt back on and returned the dirty water bowl to Natsugra.

  “Thanks,” she said, “for helping me—again.”

  Natsugra’s expression vacillated between a smile and a frown, and settled on revulsion when Sen scooted closer and reached up to her beard.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Braiding,” Sen said, separating the gray and white hairs with her fingers.

 

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