“Varay fell from a cliff. His death saddened us.”
Ruth stood quietly, letting the crowd feel the death, the sorrow. Just as the silence seemed almost too much to bear, she continued. “And then we lost Gene Wolk in the earthquake. We were not in the open, but just coming down-trail from Silver Spring and starting to cross a clearing. The last wagons were still on the hill trail, which is steep. Gene was in the rear. We barely felt the first earthquake, but the second one washed the trail from under Gene’s wagon, and the wagon tumbled into a ravine, killing him.”
Roamers did die, of course, nearly every season. It was more dangerous to be out there than inside the data nets and walls of Artistos. Story Night told of the deaths, but never dwelt on them. The roamers mourned their own, in their own way.
So Ruth moved us along past the natural sadness of death and displayed a new tea her group made from a combination of grasses that turned out to be good for unsettled stomachs, and three new insects, all of which bit or stung. Nothing the East Band had to offer rivaled the dragonbirds; new animals larger than a hand were rare finds now that humans had explored Fremont for two hundred years.
Akashi returned to tell the rest of the West Band’s story. They had captured a large carrion-eating bird named a blaze flier we’d seen drawings of but never caught before. Although only half the wingspan of the dragonbirds, it squawked angrily in its cage and the smaller children drew back from it. Akashi looked at the frightened little ones, and in a very soft gentle voice he said, “Do not be afraid of knowledge.” He paused. “The blaze flier is caged, and inside the cage, it is not your enemy. It lives near Rage Mountain and feeds on dead things killed by the confluence of mountain blood and seawater. We will let it go where it can find its way home, and it will not trouble you here. This bird is squawking because it fears you.” He paused for a full beat, then continued. “It is best to always remember that lack of knowledge will kill you faster than gathering knowledge.”
At that, a few of the little ones came closer again, and looked more carefully at the bird.
Once all of the displays were over, the families with young children left and the rest of us stayed, snacking on late-summer berries in goat milk. Liam came down to our table and sat with us for a few moments, looking pleased with himself. He smiled at me, his eyes sparkling. “Will I see you at trading tomorrow?”
The day after the roamers’ return was always a holiday in Artistos. For the first time in weeks, I looked forward to something. “I will find you.” Then I remembered myself and looked at the others. “We all will. And if you come across Alicia, will you tell her we hope to see her, too?”
A frown marred Liam’s beautiful face for a moment, and his brows drew tightly together. “I’ll look for a chance. But she is well kept, as if just talking to me would poison her obedience.”
“Would it?” I asked.
He laughed. “Perhaps. But I will look for her.” With that, he turned and vaulted back onto the stage, returning to his band.
On the walk home, Joseph glanced at me and asked, “Which one do you prefer, Liam or Bryan?”
I didn’t have an answer to give him. I loved them both. But someday I would have to choose a mate. If we lived that long. Another altered. Only we would live so long, and how could I bear someone with half my senses, half my speed, half my strength?
6
Trading Day
As I woke, the usual excitement of Trading Day filled my chest. Not loss, not Joseph, just Trading Day. A day of stories and chatter with friends, of Liam.
A sudden heavy feeling pushed me back into bed. For the first time in years, I had nothing to trade. An image of Therese filled my head. She knelt at the edge of the boundary, near the Lace Forest, humming softly, sun dappling her skin, her long fingers picking fragrant herbs for the soap we had planned to make for today’s trading. We were going to make straw baskets to carry our soap in, and decorate them with the yellow and red flowers of late fall. We had started gathering herbs to scent our soap a week before the earthquake.
I shook my head, trying to clear the image. It didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t imagine doing it without her.
I got up and splashed cold water on my face. The house was quiet; Nava and Tom had probably left already.
I looked around my room. What could I possibly trade? Unusual rocks and dried leaves lay scattered on my one shelf. Nothing there. The walls had pictures Joseph or I had drawn, mostly scenes from around Artistos, not artistic enough to have trading value. Hanging in my closet, I spotted clothes I had outgrown. Those would have to do. The pants would be long for almost anyone, but could be shortened. I folded three shirts and two pairs of pants carefully into a light backpack and went to wake up Joseph.
Trading Day happened twice each year: fall and spring. In spring, the roamers brought homemade materials dyed with redberries or sun-chalices or black-root or simply the pale olive of natural hemp. Spring meant polished rock and clay-bead jewelry and small clever paintings, hand-carved wooden flutes decorated with blue or green or red feathers; beautiful things that could be made in small spaces with simple tools, patience, and no industrial base. We mostly traded pots and forks and knives and nails and wheels; practical things that came from our smelter or our woodshop.
Sophia designed loose hand-embroidered shirts the roamers loved; Eric made leather pouches to match his shoes and boots; and Therese and I had twice made goats-milk soap, scenting it with herb and flower oils.
Today, for fall trading, Artistos would offer apples, hay, grain, squash, beans, and tomatoes in exchange for game and gathered fruits from the forests. The roamers would choose food and milk goats from this year’s herds. Art and jewelry and clothing would still change hands, but the bulk of goods traded in fall made the rain and cool of winter easier.
I found Joseph filling his pockets with small wooden animals he had carved, some before the earthquake, and some after.
Joseph and I walked to the park, taking it slow since my leg had tightened up overnight. A cool breeze blew lightly against my cheeks, and songbirds chattered from the trees by the path.
Paloma called out, “Good morning,” from behind us. We stopped and turned. Kayleen and Paloma jogged to catch us. Paloma was dressed in neatly pressed official green hemp work clothes. Kayleen grinned at me, dressed in green work pants and a hand-embroidered white blouse with blue flowers that matched her eyes. She’d tamed her unruly hair in three wooden clips. “The dragonbirds were wonderful. I heard the East Band caught a whole herd of djuri. Mom said I can help her with the colony trading. Didn’t Liam look good?”
Joseph laughed. “Chelo thinks so.” I aimed a playful swat at his head as payment for the jibe. Truthfully, I was so pleased he felt well enough to tease me that I didn’t mind, even though my face grew hot at the mention of Liam’s name.
Kayleen kept right on talking. “He’s beautiful. He grew a lot this year, and Akashi certainly favors him.”
I laughed. She was like the early-morning greeting-birds that chirped outside my window each dawn, except she talked all day. She balanced my tendency to be quiet. “That’s a good thing, Kayleen.”
Paloma broke in, sounding worried. “I overheard someone from the East Band saying Liam shouldn’t be given so much privilege.”
“Well, he’s earned it,” Kayleen said.
Paloma nodded in agreement. “That’s true, but it may still cause him troubles.”
Joseph scowled, his earlier happiness vanishing. He sounded almost petulant. “I hate it that they treat Alicia so badly. There’s nothing wrong with her.”
“Of course there isn’t.” Paloma brushed a stray wisp of long blond hair from her freckled face. “But Ruth lost her husband and brother in the war, and her pain and anger colors how the East Band treats Alicia. They see their leader keep a close eye on her, and they treat her the same way. Akashi genuinely likes Liam, and values his skills. Leadership makes a difference.”
Well, I thought, sure it do
es. Therese and Steven accepted us, and that mattered.
Kayleen looked disgusted. “Alicia didn’t start the war. And neither did we. Some people seem to know that, and they treat us all right. But then there’s Nava and Lucius and Jack and Ruth…”
Paloma interrupted her. “For some, it’s about the war. For others, it’s about the ways you are different. We’ve had this conversation. The only way for you to change people’s minds is to be as useful to the colony as you can. It’s worked here; Artistos treats you well.”
Joseph’s mouth set in a sharp scowl. “Some people treat us well.”
Kayleen frowned, then said, “Well, Liam earned Akashi’s trust. He’s so competent. I bet no one else could have found the dragonbirds.” Before I had to hear too much about how beautiful Liam was, we reached the edge of the park. Kayleen and Paloma headed off to the main tables where the official trading of common goods would take all morning. Joseph and I paused to look around, to see where to start.
The wagons were pulled into two loose circles, one for each band. Paintings or carved wood decorated each one. The long, thin wagons were designed to be drawn by two hebras each. Today, most had tables set in front with whatever goods were available for personal trade.
Half the town appeared to have beaten us here. Children raced, laughing, while their parents and older siblings examined goods and caught up on news. Dogs barked. Joseph and I walked slowly through the park, looking for Mayah and Akashi’s distinctive wagon.
We found it at the far edge of the West Band’s circle. The base color was bright yellow. Almost all of the wagons were personalized, but I loved this one most of all. It had a large picture of the spaceship Traveler painted on one side and a picture of Fremont on the other. Akashi had altered the real layout of the world so the two continents were visible against the large bright blue ocean. Jini was a yellow and green disk, a topographic display showing the mountains rising right in the middle. A single red dot showed Rage Mountain on the southern coast. The perpetual steam where the mountain’s fiery lava met the ocean had been captured as a tiny white cloud. Islandia sported the same colors as Jini, although Islandia was long and thin with edges along one side that looked like teeth. Blaze was represented by a long thin slash of red, as if a giant’s knife had cut through the ocean and the blood of Fremont welled out.
No one stood outside the wagon, and a bright golden cloth covered the trading table. I waited in front and considered knocking on the door, when Akashi came around from the back of the wagon. As he saw us, his smile warmed his eyes, making me smile back without thinking. This close, I could see the wrinkles around his mouth and on the backs of his hands. “Good morning, Chelo, Joseph.” His face grew more serious. “I’m terribly sorry for the loss of your parents.”
“Thank you.” I felt a little nervous. Akashi seemed to have so much energy and power, so much influence over the roamers, and yet he always treated us kindly. And he had been a friend of Steven’s. What he thought about me and Joseph mattered. “Thank you. We miss them very much. We’re looking for Liam.”
“My son asked me to watch for you. Go on in.” His word, “son,” touched my heart with pride and longing. Therese had treated me like a daughter in some ways, but she had never called me one.
We climbed up three wooden steps and pushed open the gold-painted door. Inside, past a small kitchen, the central core of the wagon was a comfortable-looking rectangular room with cabinets lining the top of the walls and soft bench seats that must double as beds along both long sides.
Liam sat on the far bench, his hair falling gently against his face, his braid covering his heart. He looked up and a wide smile lightened his face. “I see you found me.” He held a fat wooden flute between his knees, and was tying a bright feather that could only have come from a dragonbird onto the flute with a long thin sinew. He tugged the knot tight and held the flute out to me. “I made it for you.”
Surprise stunned me into silence. I sat down opposite Liam and took the flute in shaking hands, running my fingers along its smooth surface. I’d never had such a fine instrument of my own. It felt lighter than it looked, and yet also solid and comforting in my hand. Just holding it brought pleasure.
Liam watched my face, and his grin widened, pleased by my reaction. “Go on, play it.”
I brought the flute to my mouth and blew. A single low, soft note floated through the air, sad and haunting. My fingers fumbled at the holes along the top as I worked out how to change notes. The flute had at least a full octave range.
Liam glowed with pride. “I’ll help you more later.” He reached into the cabinet above his head and produced a wooden drum with a red-and-gold-painted leather head just two hand spans across, and twice as tall. “And this is for you, Joseph.”
Joseph tapped on the drum. Even with Joseph’s soft touch, the small wagon filled with a deep, full beat. Loose items rattled on the shelves.
I smiled at Liam. He gazed back at me, his eyes hopeful. My cheeks burned and I dropped my eyes. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. Both are beautiful.” I held the flute on my lap, fingering the bright feather. It was as long as my hand, less than half as long as the flute, and thinner than my little finger. The deep green shaft faded to black at the base. “But I don’t have anything for you.” There was no tradition of us trading gifts, and in fact, we did not know Liam well, not really. The roamers usually only spent a few days in town, twice a year. It seemed like an extravagant gesture on his part, like an offering of some part of himself.
“Akashi suggested it. After the earthquake, in those few days we were wondering how you all fared here. He said you are my family more than he is.”
I looked up at him, trying to read his expression. “Do you think that?” I asked. Liam had always been polite, and courteous, but he seemed bound more to Akashi and Mayah and the band than to us.
Liam shrugged. “No one in the band is like me. Akashi says I have surpassed him, and that I should find out more about what you know.”
Joseph reached into his pocket and took out a carving of a hebra. It stood on four legs in his palm, and its head was turned backward, as if looking behind it. “I made this. I’d like you to have it.” He glanced at me, a tender smile briefly touching his face. “It’s from both of us.”
Liam held the little beast up and admired it. “That’s good work. Thank you; I am honored.”
Joseph seemed pleased with Liam’s acceptance of his gift, and also with the drum, which he held loosely in his lap, running his fingers along the edge of the head. I was proud of him; it had been exactly the right gesture. If only I had something personal to give Liam from me. I offered words. “I have always thought of you and Alicia as family.”
“Thank you,” Liam said simply, and turned to put the carved hebra on a shelf.
Alicia. It felt important to find her. “Did you see Alicia last night?”
Liam’s face darkened. “Not up close. I asked Walter, a friend of mine in the East Band, about her. He said Alicia is a freak. She mutters to herself all day and hardly ever talks to anyone. He seemed angry with her, and he never gets mad at anyone. He promised to tell her we want to talk to her.”
Joseph spoke up. “Well, she won’t find us here. And I’m hungry.”
“All right. Let me get Kayleen’s gift.” Liam picked up a small wooden box with a dragonbird carved in the top. He let me hold it while he found a brain-tanned djuri leather pouch. “Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked.
The detail on the miniature dragonbird showed individual tiny feathers, and the ruff around its neck had been tinted red. The lid fit closely. The wood had been polished as smooth as my flute. “It’s beautiful. I’m sure she’ll love it.”
We left our gifts inside the wagon and walked outside, squinting into the bright morning sun. Akashi stood deep in conversation with two children, but he looked up to wave as we passed him. I waited until we were out of earshot, then leaned close to Liam. “You are very lucky.”
; He glanced behind him and smiled softly. “I know.”
Liam led us toward the crowded central tables. There, the three of us stood awkwardly, looking for Kayleen or Bryan or Alicia. Joseph spotted Kayleen helping Paloma count out hay chits, and we moved as close to her as we could, waiting for her to look up. Kayleen’s fingers flew as she grouped the chits in tens, pushing them toward Paloma, who finished each deal with a smile and a handshake. Finally, she looked up and beamed at Liam. Then she noticed me standing next to him, and a slight frown flitted across her face before she erased it. She whispered to Paloma, then walked over to us, brushing her hair into place with her long fingers. She stood looking at Liam, grinning widely, tongue-tied for once.
“Have you seen Alicia?” I asked.
Kayleen shook her head. “I haven’t seen Bryan either.”
“Can you help us find them?” Liam asked.
Kayleen bit her lip and gestured at the long line of people standing by Paloma’s table. “We’re busy. Paloma asked if one of you could stay and help.” She looked hopefully at Liam.
“I’ll do it,” Joseph said. “We can listen for news.”
Disappointment flickered in Kayleen’s eyes. It wasn’t lost on me that Liam made her blush, but I suddenly wondered if Joseph liked Kayleen. Maybe it was the excitement of Trading Day, or the uneasiness of so many recent losses, or just being around Liam, and sensing the changes in him this season. Whatever it was, I often felt awkward now, and new tensions ran like tiny morning winds between us.
Kayleen flicked her gaze from me to Liam. “You seem worried about Alicia. Is there something specific we should find out?”
Liam frowned. “We stopped once with the East Band after the quake, and she didn’t speak to me at all; she stayed in her wagon. I glimpsed her from a distance a few times. She looked sad. I haven’t seen her up close this trip, but she usually is out Trading Days. Also, my friend Walter seemed angry at her. I didn’t get to talk to him long, though. We were all too busy setting up.”
The Silver Ship and the Sea Page 8
