Facing the Sun

by Carol Beth Anderson

  When a small town experiences crime, people are shocked. “I expect that in a big city,” they say, “but not here!”

  I have lived in a large city, and I have lived in a small town. Human hearts are just as unreliable in one as the other.

  -From Small-Town Cormina: A Midwife’s Reflections by Ellea Kariana

  “Mother said you need to help me weed the garden.” Misty was entirely too chipper, and Tavi grimaced. “Come on, it’s beautiful outside,” Misty insisted.

  Tavi stood and put down her book. Maybe weeding wouldn’t be too bad; she couldn’t seem to focus on the story she was trying to read, anyway.

  Misty led her sister to a corner of the garden where one of their mother’s squash hybrids was growing. They both sat, and Tavi dug her fingers into the cool soil, reaching for the roots of a small weed.

  “I have an extra spade if that’s easier,” Misty offered.

  Tavi shook her head. “If I’m going to be in the garden, I’m going to get my hands dirty.”

  They worked silently. It felt good to be outside; Tavi had been spending too much time cooped up in her room. The morning sun wasn’t yet high in the sky, and cool autumn breezes tickled the nape of Tavi’s neck. Each weed she pulled gave her an odd satisfaction.

  After several minutes, Misty asked, “How are you doing?”

  Misty had been asking that question often in the weeks since Tullen’s departure. Many days, Tavi didn’t want to talk about it. But with her hands in the soil and the genuine love she heard in her sister’s voice, something shifted in Tavi. She filled her lungs with a deep breath, let it out, and admitted, “I’m still sad.”

  Misty lifted her head, and her eyes were glistening. “I’m sorry, Tavi,” she said.

  “I think he was the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tavi said. “He made me…better.”

  “Better at your magic?”

  Tavi shook her head and continued to work on a stubborn weed. “Well, he did help me a lot with magic. But he also—he helped me be better at . . . being me.”

  “That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Misty said.

  Tavi wasn’t done. “But I’ve been thinking a lot,” she said. “And as much as I hate the thought of never seeing him again, a lot of other people help me in the same way he did—including you.” Her throat caught as she looked at her sister. “You’re still here, and Sall and Narre, and Mama, and the midwives. I think I’ll be all right.”

  Misty was smiling now, that look of joy she wore every time Tavi made her proud. “When did you get so grown up?” Misty asked.

  Tavi groaned. “Most days I still feel like a child.”

  “Half the time, I do too,” Misty admitted. They both laughed.

  After pulling several more weeds, Misty said, “I don’t think I ever told you about the time my heart was broken.”

  Tavi insisted, “He was just my friend, Misty.”

  “Oh, don’t get your hackles up,” Misty said. “You can get your heart broken when you lose a friend, you know.” Tavi’s shoulders slumped, and Misty asked, “Can I tell you my story?”

  When Tavi nodded, Misty put down her spade. “I was a little older than you,” she began, “just sixteen. There was a boy I’d liked for years—Clem. One day at school I finally had the courage to talk to him, and I couldn’t believe when we hit it off. We’d eat lunch together, and he’d walk me home every day, even though he lived in the opposite direction.”

  “He sounds nice,” Tavi said. “What happened?”

  “We spent a lot of time together for several months,” Misty replied. “He was the first boy I held hands with, and my first kiss. He made me happy. And then one day, it all stopped. He barely even looked at me. No more lunches, no more walking home together.”

  Tavi frowned. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Misty shook her head. “I still ask myself that. I thought he’d come talk to me about it, but he never did, and the more time that passed, the sillier I would have felt asking him what happened. It just—ended.”

  “And your heart was broken?”

  “Into tiny little pieces,” Misty said with a sad smile. “I cried every day for weeks.” She reached out a dirty hand and placed it on Tavi’s knee. “It does get easier.”

  Tavi had never thought much about Misty’s romantic life. She wanted to know more. “Was there ever anybody after Clem?” she asked.

  Misty shrugged. “A few boys, here and there, but nothing serious. And it’s been years since there’s been anyone at all.”

  “Why?”

  The simple question seemed to make Misty sad. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I think I got scared by how sad I was after things ended with Clem, and eventually the opportunities weren’t there anymore.”

  Tavi wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She shifted her attention back to the weeds, and Misty followed suit.

  After a few minutes, they turned to innocuous topics such as their mother’s plans for the garden. There was another lull in the conversation, and Tavi heard what she thought were galloping hooves on the dirt road. She lay down her spade and craned her neck, and sure enough, a dust cloud was making its way toward their home.

  “Someone’s in a hurry,” Tavi commented.

  Misty had taken notice too. “They sure are,” she agreed.

  The horse and rider slowed as they passed the garden, and then they turned into the yard. Tavi raised her eyebrows, and as the rider got down and rushed to the front door, she said, “It’s Mr. Minnalen!” Why would Reba’s father be here, and in such a hurry? She continued to weed, but after a few minutes, she couldn’t stand the suspense. She stood and strode toward the house.

  “You can’t weed while you’re walking!” Misty called.

  “I’ll be back,” Tavi assured her. She walked across the large garden to the house and entered through the kitchen. Runan Minnalen was there, pacing behind the table. Tavi’s mother stood on the other side of the table, her face filled with worry.

  “What’s wrong?” Tavi asked.

  Mey looked at Mr. Minnalen hesitantly, but he took no notice of her or of Tavi. For several seconds, Tavi waited, until she lost her patience and took a few steps so she was standing directly in front of where Reba’s father was pacing. She repeated herself, more loudly. “What’s wrong?”

  Mr. Minnalen’s eyebrows rose as if he had just noticed Tavi’s arrival. He stopped pacing and stared at Tavi, his eyes filled with horror. After several seconds he spoke. “Reba is gone,” he said.

  “Gone? What do you mean?” Tavi asked.

  But that seemed to be all Mr. Minnalen could say. Mey gestured to the table. “Have a seat, Tavi, and I’ll get you a snack.” Tavi started to comply, but Mey said, “Goodness, please wash your hands first.”

  Tavi looked down; she had forgotten about the dark soil staining her hands. She walked to the sink and turned on the tap—how quickly they had become used to running water in this house. When she finished, she sat. Mey had already placed bread and cheese on the table for her, and Tavi quietly thanked her.

  Mey spoke to Tavi in a calm voice. “Last night Reba left the house, telling her father she was going to stay with Iris.” Iris was one of Reba’s newer friends. “When Mr. Minnalen went to Iris’ house this morning, Iris knew nothing about Reba coming. Mr. Minnalen has been riding to all Reba’s friends’ homes to see if any of them know anything.” Tavi started a bit at the word “friends,” but she let it go. Mey continued, “I’ve sent Seph to go get your father in town, so he can help look for Reba.”

  Tavi looked again to Mr. Minnalen. “That’s terrible!” she said, and she meant it. Reba hadn’t proven to be a good friend, but Tavi didn’t want anything to happen to her.

  Mr. Minnalen pulled a crumpled paper out of his pocket. “She left a note,” he said. “When she wasn’t at Iris’, I thought perhaps she’d changed her mind and stayed home last night. I checked her room and found this.” Mr. Minnalen handed the note to Mey, then
pulled a handkerchief out of another pocket, using it to dab at his glistening face. He resumed his pacing.

  Mey scanned the note then handed it to Tavi. It said,

  Dear Papa,

  I’m with trusted people, and I am safe. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll send word when I can.

  –Reba

  Tavi’s eyebrows furrowed. How honorable could these “trusted people” be, if they would ask Reba to leave without even telling her father?

  “Pardon me,” Mey said. “I’m going to send Ista to gather a couple of neighbors. We need as many people looking as we can get.” She exited the kitchen.

  Tavi sat helplessly for several seconds. The back door opened, and Sall walked in. “Hi, Tavi, I—” He saw Reba’s father and stopped in surprise. “Mr. Minnalen, I’m glad I found you here,” he said. “Where’s Reba?”

  Mr. Minnalen showed no sign of hearing the question, and Sall looked at Tavi in confusion. Tavi explained, “Reba is gone, Sall. She left last night and didn’t return. Mr. Minnalen found a note. She said she left with people she trusts.”

  Sall’s face went white, and he pulled out a chair, almost falling as he sat. “No,” he breathed.

  Tavi placed her hand on Sall’s arm. “Sall, we’re going to do whatever we can to find her,” she said.

  He said nothing, but just sat shaking his head. Tavi demanded, “Tell me what’s wrong, Sall! You’re scaring me!”

  That snapped him out of his stupor, and his eyes met Tavi’s. “I went to see Narre this morning. Her mother . . . she said last night Reba came over. Narre left with her to stay the night at her house. But when I went to Reba’s, nobody was there. And if Reba is gone . . .” He stopped talking, his eyes filling with tears and his hands covering his mouth.

  Tavi’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t get enough air. She took deep, gulping breaths, and her ears filled with the ocean sound of her own blood, pumping urgently. Mey reentered the kitchen then, and when she saw Tavi, she sat in the chair next to her, her hand clamping on her daughter’s shoulder. “What is it?” she asked.

  Tavi could barely talk, but she forced the words out, half sobbing. “Narre is gone too, Mama. She’s gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  My dear, your letter has done nothing less than tear my heart in two. I have been away for too long. I see that now. Please write again. At one word from you, I will cross the world to come back to your side.

  -From Savala’s Collected Letters, Volume 1

  Tavi and Sall sat on the bench on her tiny back porch. Their tears had stopped, and Tavi wondered if Sall felt as exhausted as she did. Lunchtime had come and gone, but they weren’t hungry.

  “Where are they?” Tavi asked, frustration in every word. Sall didn’t respond. Tavi huffed, stood, and walked around to the front of the house. She looked down the road, saw nothing, and returned to the bench.

  As soon as Tavi had told her mother that Narre was missing, Mey had departed to tell Shem and Jilla, Narre’s parents. Meanwhile, Jevva had returned home. Shem had driven his carriage to Tavi’s house to pick up Jevva, Runan Minnalen, and two men from nearby homes. Together they had traveled into Oren, hoping to discover something about Narre and Reba’s disappearance.

  Tavi wanted to look for the two girls, but Jevva had insisted she stay home. Mey was still with Narre’s mother Jilla. Despite her father’s instructions, Tavi couldn’t stomach the thought of continuing to wait while others searched. Turning to Sall, she said, “I think we should search the forest.”

  Sall didn’t look up as he responded, “Reba would never go into the forest.”

  It was true; Reba had always hated the forest—the bugs, the tripping hazards, and how easy it was to get lost. “But maybe someone forced her to go there,” Tavi pointed out.

  “If that’s the case, they’re so far away now, we’d never find them,” Sall said.

  Tavi snapped, “Look at me, Sall!” When he lifted his head and met her gaze, she demanded, “What are we supposed to do?”

  Sall almost never lost his temper, but now his eyes blazed with anger, and he shouted, “I don’t know!”

  Tavi closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, she had calmed. “We have to find her,” she said. He nodded, expression helpless, before turning to stare at the trees.

  Tavi heard voices, and she stood again, rounding the house to see who it was. Mey, Jilla, and Narre’s brothers were walking toward the front door.

  “Mama!” Tavi said. “Did you hear anything?”

  “No.” Mey looked nearly as distraught as Jilla. “We’re going to walk to as many houses as we can, to see if anyone knows anything.”

  “Oh, good!” Tavi said. “I’ll come with you.”

  Mey shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tavi, you can’t go. We need you, Sall, Ista, and Elim to watch Gillun.”

  Tavi eyed Narre’s youngest brother. “You want us to stay here? Gillun doesn’t need four people watching him!”

  “I know,” Mey agreed, “but Jilla and I feel this search should be carried out by adults.”

  “But Narre is one of my best friends!” Tavi said.

  “Tavi, every moment we stay here talking about this is a moment we aren’t searching,” Mey said sharply. “Where are Misty, Jona, and Seph? They’ll come with us.”

  Knowing that arguing would be futile, Tavi replied, “They’re in the house.” She beckoned to Elim and Gillun to follow her to the back yard.

  Long hours passed. Tavi played marbles with Gillun and even convinced Sall to join in. However, they were both too anxious to play for long. They sat, watching Gillun explore. When Ista and Elim realized how dismal the mood was in the yard, they waited inside.

  As the sun was setting, Tavi’s parents and siblings returned. When Tavi heard them, she rushed to meet them, followed by Sall.

  “Did you find her?” Tavi asked.

  Mey shook her head sadly. “Come inside; we’ll put out food and talk while we eat.”

  Tavi nodded, but once in the kitchen, she bombarded her mother with questions. By the time cold chicken, bread, apples, and cheese were placed on the table, she knew some of the basic facts.

  Despite searching all over town, they had not found Reba or Narre, or anyone who knew where the girls were. The best information they had gathered was from the owner of the pub where Reba worked. According to him, for the past three days, Reba had engaged in several conversations with two men who claimed to be scholars. The men had left town the previous night, which was also the last time Reba and Narre had been seen.

  Armed with this lead, Reba’s and Narre’s fathers had gone to the small office of safety to speak with the officer on duty, Les Andisis. He already knew of the missing girls, and one of his colleagues had begun canvassing neighborhoods near the girls’ homes. However, when Officer Andisis had heard about the two men, his concern had mounted.

  At this point of Mey’s explanation, dinner was ready. Tavi tapped her foot as Jevva prayed to thank Sava for his provision and to ask that the girls be kept safe. Mey then continued, “Officer Andisis has heard of girls being taken from other towns and being brought to Tinawe.”

  Tavi and Sall were both leaning forward, plates untouched. “Tinawe?” Sall asked. “Why?”

  “For . . .” Mey looked to Jevva for help, but he only raised his eyebrows. With a small sigh, she turned her attention back to Tavi and Sall. “For illicit purposes,” she said. “They are brought there to . . . give services to men.”

  “What?” Tavi blurted, panic rising in her chest. If Narre had been taken for that purpose—it was unthinkable! For many years, anyone who facilitated prostitution in Cormina had been punished harshly. Meanwhile, men and women who had been forced or lured into such a life were, when discovered, protected and provided for by local governments and parishes. She was horrified to hear that, despite all this, the trade was flourishing in Tinawe, one of the largest cities in the nation.

  Sall’s voice was quieter than Tavi’s, bu
t the intensity could have cut through steel. “What will be done to get them back?” he demanded.

  Jevva answered him. “First thing in the morning, Shem and Mr. Minnalen will go to Tinawe. Officer Andisis will go with them.”

  “Father,” Tavi said, “I need to go too. My gifts—”

  “No.” Jevva’s answer was firm and immediate.

  “Uncle Shem and Mr. Minnalen aren’t gifted,” she retorted. “Is Officer Andisis?”

  “He is hearing-blessed,” Jevva replied.

  “Oh, I’m sure that will be very helpful for rescuing two young girls in a large city,” Tavi snapped.

  “That’s enough, Tavi,” Mey said sternly. The room was quiet. Tavi glared at her father, and he returned her stare dispassionately before shifting his attention to his dinner.

  Sall broke the silence. “Thank you for all your assistance,” he said. “I need to go home now, if you’ll please excuse me.”

  “You haven’t eaten a thing!” Mey said.

  “I’m fine,” Sall replied.

  Mey gave him a small smile. “We will be praying.”

  Sall nodded and made his way out of the kitchen. Without asking to be excused, Tavi stood and followed him. Once the front door closed behind them, she said, “Sall, does it bother you that those three men will have almost no magical assistance in trying to find Narre?”

  “Yes,” he replied, his gaze not leaving hers. His breaths came quickly.

  Tears filled Tavi’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tavi, I don’t either!” Sall snapped. “Do you have any idea how much I want to fix this right now?” He shook his head. “I have to go home. But come to my house in the morning before school. Maybe one of us will have an answer by then.”

  Tavi nodded, though she couldn’t stomach the thought of going to school without knowing where Narre was. Sall turned to go, but she rushed to him and gave him a tight hug. He returned the embrace, and she felt his chest convulse with a sob. He pulled away and walked briskly toward the street.