by Lori Holmes
Rebaa pushed herself upright, wove a little on her feet as the world swam before her eyes, then she found her balance and plunged on into the frost-hardened landscape. She increased her pace, keeping her mind’s eye on the energies flickering like wildfire behind her. She had to stay ahead. But even with her increased pace, she knew they were gaining steadily. She could not keep this up for long.
Finally, when Rebaa believed she could not force her body to take one more step, Ninmah rose on yet another day to reveal a dark line along the horizon. It blurred like a mirage in Rebaa’s vision as she crested a low rise in the land.
The forests of her birth place stood before her at last.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “We did it!” she rasped to her sleeping baby as he dozed next to her heart. “We made it!” Overcome, Rebaa stumbled forward towards the dark line. Joy drove out all her sorrows and lent her a last trickle of strength. She was home at last.
A faint shout her made her spin around with a cry on her lips. She fought to focus her failing eyes as she stared back in the direction she had come. She could just make out five figures standing on the crests of the hills behind. They had closed the distance without her notice.
Rebaa snarled in fierce defiance to the tall, lithe forms silhouetted on the horizon. Even after all she had gone through, even as she stood upon the borders of her home, they were never going to let her rest. They would pursue her until the very last step. She had no doubt they could see her now. She could see them and she was in the open on white, frosty ground. She stood out like a black ox in the middle of a plain.
She turned back to stare at the distant border of the great forest. She was closer to that than the Cro were to her. They would have to travel twice the distance to catch her. If she could get into the trees, she knew she would be safe. Five Cro would not dare follow her into Ninkuraaja territory. As Juran’s brother had said, it would take greater monsters than they to enter the forest.
The world narrowed down to this one breathless moment as Rebaa assessed her chances. She was closer to her goal but she knew the Cro could travel twice as fast as she could. They also had the advantage of not currently dying on their feet. This would be a fairly even race.
Rebaa’s mouth set into a grim line. She had not survived all that she had just to fall now! She faced her pursuers up on the hills and cried out her defiance once more. She was going home! Gathering her most precious bundle to her, Rebaa turned and ran for her life.
The chase was joined. Hunting cries sounded behind as the Cro threw themselves after her in pursuit.
Rebaa pounded across the expanse between her and the protection of the trees. Her breath soon came in short, laboured gasps. Her legs burned. The old injury from the bear caused her to limp. Her baby became a rock weight in her arms. Already she was slowing. Still she ran, the tree line growing larger and larger with each ragged step. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
The eager voices grew louder behind. They were gaining, gaining. She felt their murderous energy bearing unstoppably down upon her.
Go, go! She chanted to herself. Run! Not far now!
She was almost there, only fifty strides away. She was stumbling now. Completely and utterly spent. She did not know what strength kept her on her legs. She pushed herself on. Nearly there.
A whooping cry and the sound of pounding feet directly behind her told her she was too late. She was not close enough. One of them was faster than the rest and he was right behind her. She felt him reaching out in triumph, his fingers about to brush her back and bring their deadly chase to its violent end.
Rebaa acted. Screaming with rage, she wheeled around, acutely aware of the spear she somehow still clutched in her hand. Never hesitate… She stopped and braced herself, holding the point of the spear out and up, its butt against the hard ground.
The startled Cro did not have time to halt his momentum. He drove himself upon the sharpened tip that waited for him, his weight thrusting him forward, deeper and deeper until it pierced his very heart. Wide blue eyes stared in shock at Rebaa as he coughed up blood, gurgling wordlessly. The life faded and he tumbled to the ground, dead.
Rebaa stood for a moment, frozen with revulsion and disbelief at what she had done, before shouts of fury from the dead Cro’s companions shook her back to reality.
“Hanak! Noooo!”
Gasping, Rebaa gave Nen’s spear a tug but she could not dislodge it from the Cro’s twitching body. Her heart cried as she was forced to abandon it. It was not worth her life. She spun and fled for the trees, leaping at last through the protective line just as a poorly aimed spear seared past her ear and bounced off an unyielding trunk.
Rebaa continued to run until she was a safe distance into the woods and adrenalin could take her no further. She stumbled to a halt and leaned heavily against a tree, listening to the curses and shouts of frustration behind her. They were murderous, angry, but no sounds of pursuit reached her pounding ears. She had been right. The Cro would not dare violate these borders.
She had made it. She had… The pounding in her ears became a roar. The world turned and Rebaa stumbled, clutching at the tree as her heart beat unsteadily in her chest. That last effort had been too much for her failing body. The trees blurred before her eyes.
She shook her head to clear it of the growing darkness. She could not die now! Her baby still needed her! It was not safe. But the darkness did not heed her will and it continued to grow. Boneless, Rebaa slid down against the roots of the tree. She was losing the battle. Wrapping her arms protectively around her baby, she held him tight. She would not let him go. He was the last thing she thought of before endless darkness enveloped her.
26
Promise
“…what happened to her?”
Voices. The voices were coming from all around. She had no sense of her body apart from the weight against her chest. She did not know where she was or what was happening but knew she must hold on to that weight. It was important.
“…don’t know. The wolves dragged her in…”
“What is she dressed in?” came another disgusted voice. “She wears the garb of accursed flesh-eating ground-dwellers!” Someone spat.
The words sounded strange to her ears. It took long moments for her to realise the reason. She had not heard this tongue spoken outside of her own thoughts in…
“She’s nearly dead,” a familiar voice spoke near to her head, shaking with barely suppressed emotion. She felt fingers brushing her temples. “She’s barely there. Let me look at her!”
Baarias? She wanted to speak but she could not gain the control needed. She drifted again. The scent of winter trees, earth and leaf mould were strong in her nostrils. She clung to that sense. The scent of home.
“What’s that she’s holding?” came yet another voice.
“It’s a baby,” somebody else said.
“But it doesn’t feel right. What is it?” the tone became fearful, filled with dread and hardening certainty. “Baarias, move out of the way!”
Someone began to pull at the weight she held so firmly in her unfeeling arms. It began to cry. That roused her and she felt a little bit of her physical awareness return. Pain washed over her.
“It’s a monster!” Somebody exclaimed. “Get it away from her. Look at its eyes! In the name of Ninmah, I will end this curse!”
Someone tried to drag the warm weight in her arms away from her. It cried louder in distress. They were hurting it! Full awareness rushed back to Rebaa like a bolt of lightning.
“No!” she shrieked, pulling her baby back and throwing herself protectively over the top of him. “Get away from him!” Her words were Cro out of habit but her meaning was clear.
Her vision swirled. She saw a leaf-clad figure before her, a large rock raised threateningly between his hands.
“Get away!” she hissed fiercely, curling her body around her baby. If they wanted him, they would have to go through her!
Angry muttering broke o
ut as Rebaa fought to stay awake, braced over her newborn. She could feel his strange, wild power building. She had to stop it, to hide it from them. She had to stay awake. His very life hung in the balance.
“Unnatural.”
“Accursed!”
“Forbidden.”
“Forbidden!”
The words buzzed like angry bees from all around her and she was in the midst of the nest. Emotions were fanning quickly into a fierce unstoppable wildfire.
“It cannot be allowed to exist. It will bring an end to us all!” Their combined determination set on one terrible course of action. “It must die.”
Rebaa began to cry. “Baarias!” She called for her brother, unfocused eyes searching for support. “Help me. Don’t let them!” But he did not step forward. He did not come to her aid. The anger continued to grow. Her sobs grew desperate. All this way, all that suffering and she had still lost. Her one hope evaporated into nothingness. No one was going to defend her. Not even her brother. She had made the wrong choice. She had broken her promise to Nen. She could not keep her baby safe. Her eyes screwed shut, tightening her arms. She would at least hold on as long as she could…
“Get away from that girl!” A voice cracked out over the din. “Let me through!” It was a female voice and it rang with a terrifying authority. Rebaa felt a power moving toward her such as she had not felt in a long time. She had forgotten. She heard the crackling of leaves as many feet shuffled hastily backwards, then thin, cool fingers were brushing her brow.
“Easy, young one.” The voice said. “You are safe now.”
Safe? How could she be safe? She was never safe. Rebaa blinked up into the face so close beside hers. It was an ancient visage, deeply lined and framed with long, silvery-white hair. A face filled with endless wisdom and lavender eyes that burned with the energy of the Great Spirit himself.
“Sefaan,” she rasped in recognition. Her tribe’s Kamaali. A Seeress of the Spirit. The sacred Guide to her people.
“Sefaan!” Another female voice snapped. “She cannot stay here. Not if she refuses to give up that thing. It condemns us all in the eyes of Ninmah. It is Forbidden!”
Sefaan stood straight and faced the speaker. “Very well, Aardn,” she spoke. “If you insist. But know that if you cast this girl from our trees, I will accompany her.”
Gasps of shock rippled around the tribe. Rebaa saw the pale red-gold faces and varying shades of indigo eyes fill with doubt and fear. They shifted uncertainly. The choice Sefaan had faced them with was unthinkable. Keep the abomination or risk losing the voice of the Great Spirit for their tribe.
“We cannot keep it, Sefaan,” Aardn’s voice now held a desperate edge. “It is a monster! It puts everybody at risk. There is a reason such things are Forbidden!”
Sefaan regarded her steadily. “It is only a baby for now, Aardn. You must indeed have grown weak in your old age to fear an infant.” Her words struck at the Elder’s pride. “A child cannot hurt us. We will watch him closely. Once he is old enough to survive on his own, you may send him on his way. Until then, he must stay with Rebaa under her protection. And mine.” She added as an after threat. The silence was deafening. Not even the birds dared to speak.
Rebaa could not believe what she was hearing. She began to tremble all over, the world swirling dangerously. She could not hold herself together any longer.
“Baarias!” Sefaan snapped at her brother. “Don’t just stand there. Heal her. She is dying!”
A soft tread, then Rebaa felt hands against her head and tears dripping on her face as her brother’s energy flowed into her. She latched on to it greedily as she felt him work. His skill in the healing art was unsurpassed and it seemed to have only grown stronger in her absence. Her pain eased almost immediately. She drifted in and out of consciousness, never letting go of her baby until she heard Baarias whisper in a broken voice. “She will live now. Her wounds are healed but she needs food and much rest.”
“Good,” Sefaan murmured, then her voice rose to address the rest of the tribe. “To cast this child from our borders now would be the gravest of mistakes. Swear to me that you will honour my word,” the Kamaali pressed. “No one will attempt to harm this girl or her offspring. Not until the time comes for him to leave.” The silence stretched. “Swear it!” Sefaan’s power radiated out, lashing at them.
It was Aardn who finally spoke for the tribe, voice heavy with unwilling defeat. “It seems you have left us with little choice, Sefaan. We swear.”
Rebaa blinked her eyes open and this time her vision was clear. She was in the very heart of her old home. The mighty eshaara trees, the standing spirits of Kamaalis long past, rose all around, protective and watchful, leaves whispering secrets amongst themselves just as she remembered.
Standing before the trees, the whole tribe surrounded her, dressed in the draping leaf-leather of green, gold and red. She grew very conscious of the tattered wolf and bear furs still hanging from her shoulders. Her peoples’ fine faces were filled with unease or downright revulsion. They backed away as she sat up. Even her brother. She caught sight of another familiar face. Jaai. She and Jaai had been best friends as children. Rebaa looked to her with hope but Jaai’s usually warm gaze was cooled by fear and she turned her beautiful face away, tears glistening in her dark purple eyes. Saddened, Rebaa staggered to her feet and nearly fell. She might be healed but she was still dangerously weak.
Sefaan reached out to steady her. “Get her some food,” she commanded.
Nobody moved. Sefaan glared around at them all.
“No, Sefaan.” This time Aardn’s voice was firm. “You may have forced us to keep her here, but we will not help her or look after her. We will not anger Ninmah by aiding what she Herself forbade at the beginning of time. The Holy Creator is already leaving our people. I will not risk provoking her further. Mark my words, you have brought a curse down upon us this day. I will never forget it.” She stared around the group, her eyes lingering on Baarias’ tortured face. “Listen, all, I speak as your Elder. No one is to help the heretic or her Forbidden offspring. She must live on the fringes, unseen and ignored, unless one wishes to evoke the wroth of Ninmah Herself.”
The tribe shrank further away from Rebaa and Sefaan, who still stood by her side. Rebaa gazed around at them. They who had once been her friends and family. Baarias had his eyes fixed upon the baby in her arms. He might as well have been staring at a venomous snake. His scarred features were agonised. Rebaa’s face closed against him. Fine. She would do without him. As long as they let her keep her baby and stay under the protection of the trees, that was all that mattered. She had learned well how to fend for herself.
Sefaan snorted derisively. “I guarantee that Ninmah has more important things on Her mind, Aardn. So be it,” she said and pulled Rebaa away from the wall of prejudiced eyes. “Come, child.”
Rebaa stumbled after the Kamaali woman as she led her through the massive eshaara trees that her people called home. They came to a halt at the roots of one of the last red-gold sentinels at the very edge of the mighty grove.
“She will look after you,” Sefaan said, staring up at the tree. Rebaa studied the eshaara. Unkempt and deserted, it was unoccupied and out of the way. Perfect. This would be hers. This would be where she raised her strange child by herself without any help from her people.
“Here,” Sefaan said. The ancient woman held out a large root. Rebaa took it hungrily. A gora root. Her least favourite as a child, now her mouth watered at the sight of it. No more meat, she realised in relief.
“I’ll make you some clothes,” the Kamaali continued, eyeing Rebaa’s grisly attire with thinly veiled contempt. “There’s no need for you to stand out any more than you need to.”
“Thank you,” Rebaa whispered, finally slipping back into her native tongue. She caught Sefaan’s hand. “Thank you for saving our lives.” She would be forever in the Kamaali’s debt. But she would not get too close. Never again. She would not put anyone else at risk
for her mistakes. She must walk this forbidden path on her own now. She had survived. That was all that mattered. She looked down at her baby and smiled as all else fell away. He blinked at her adoringly, unaware of the commotion he had caused.
“The Great Spirit commanded.” Sefaan said by way of explanation. “Though his purpose remains a mystery to me. I will leave you alone now.” The Kamaali began to turn away. “Rest. They will not touch you. I have their promise. Just promise me that you will stay out of their way. Do nothing to provoke them. Especially Aardn.”
Rebaa dipped her head in thanks once again. She started for the tree, holding her baby to her.
“Oh!” Sefaan called, turning back one last time. A smile played around the corners of her depthless eyes. “What are you going to name him?”
Rebaa blinked. In all that had happened since his birth, she realised she was no closer to deciding upon a name than she had been when Nen had first asked. It was time he had one. Peering down into his bright green eyes, she felt the strength of his spirit, powerful even now. Little strong one, Nen’s voice floated through her memory. She could almost see her friend there, black gaze warm and comforting, nodding her approval. She smiled gently.
Rebaa’s eyes were enigmatic as they met Sefaan’s. Wordlessly, she turned away and climbed up the abandoned tree that was to be her home from now on. She paused long enough to call back over her shoulder to the ancient one waiting below.
“His name is Juaan,” she said and disappeared inside the living walls.
27
An Ending
Eight years later…
“Juaan, come here.”
Her son shifted on the far side of the tree where he sat looking out over the darkening forest beyond. She knew he did not want to come to her. He did not want to face what was about to happen. Rebaa could hear her own voice, how it rasped like dry leaves inside her throat. For eight long turning of the seasons, she had done all she could but now sickness had come to claim her and she had no more left to give. It wouldn’t be long now. Tonight, it would be tonight.
