by S. S. Segran
“Really?” Jag asked.
“Of course. You live here now, which makes you family. And families do things together, do they not?”
Jag tossed his friends a questioning look. “You guys wanna go?”
“Sure,” Tegan said. “But shouldn’t we let Huyani or Akol know?”
“Hold on, my gem,” Aesròn said, putting an arm around her. “If you want to come, it would be best if you did not tell either of them.”
Did he call me his gem? Who calls people their gem? Tegan caught him smiling at her again. She scolded herself as the flush tried to creep into her cheeks once more. Lifting her chin, she asked, “Why shouldn’t we tell them?”
“We know your . . . keepers . . . have their doubts about us.” Aesròn raised a brow. “Is that not correct?”
Tegan met his gaze. His green eyes glinted invitingly as he looked back at her. Ugh, she thought. Look at him. Whew, he’s gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous, even . . . No! Stop! Tegan, don’t be stupid!
Out loud, she said, “Yeah. Are they right, though?”
Aesròn playfully nudged her. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion. Akol and Huyani are a little less, shall we say . . . flexible than most youths here. We do not know what their reasoning is for telling you that we are not a good group, but I can assure you we have never done anything that caused anyone grief. We just enjoy having fun.”
The friends all looked eager but cautious. Jag cleared his throat. “Could we think about it?”
“Definitely,” Hutar said. “If you would like to join us, just come by after your evening meal. We will be at the old community center. It is a large building on the other side of the valley. It stands alone, so you will know which one it is when you see it.”
“Thanks. See you around, maybe.”
The youths stepped aside and allowed the friends to pass. As the group headed toward Huyani’s neyra, they heard the youths behind them speaking quietly and the roar of laughter that followed after.
* * *
The Elders were gathered in the convalescence center around Rikèq’s bed. Akol and Huyani sat on either side their father, each holding one of his hands. Huyani stroked her fingers against his short beard, a look of utter thankfulness on her face. He smiled up at her, then at Akol. Tikina’s chest clenched at the sight of her family reunited.
The blood had been wiped off when Rikèq and Breyas were found by the search party but the bruises remained, though with the herbs Huyani had applied, those would heal quickly. Rikèq had a fractured bone in his right arm and his upper legs had contusions to the muscles; those would take a little longer to mend.
“How are you feeling, Rikèq?” Tikina asked as she sat at the foot of his bed.
“In pain,” he answered truthfully. “But as long as I know I am alive, I will gratefully take that discomfort and live with it.”
“Hopefully you will not have to live with that pain for too long,” said Saiyu.
“Was there something you wanted to share with the Elders, Father?” Huyani asked softly.
“Yes.” Rikèq attempted to sit up but Akol and Huyani did not allow him to.
“Do not strain yourself,” Akol told him, gently resting his father’s head back onto the pillow.
“My children, the worriers.” Rikèq smiled at his offspring. He shifted into a more comfortable position and began relating all that had transpired. The Elders were patient as he took his time to recall the experience.
As Rikèq neared the end of his account, the view outside the window showed the sun dropping behind the mountains. Huyani waited until there was a short lull in her father’s narrative, then excused herself, explaining that she needed to start preparing the evening meal for the friends. She kissed her father on the cheek before saying goodbye and exiting the building.
Rikèq watched her leave, then continued to speak until he was sure he had told the Elders everything they would need to know.
Tikina took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she said. “I can tell it was hard for you to recount all that you remember in your current state, but what you have shared is valuable. It could very well have an impact on our survival.”
“Now all there is for you to focus on is healing.” Nageau rubbed his forehead. “We have our work cut out for us. I think we should call Magèo to the assembly neyra and discuss a plan. Akol, could you find him and bring him to us, please?”
“Of course, Grandfather.” Akol gingerly hugged his father, then left the center.
“Wait,” Rikèq said suddenly. “Where is Breyas?”
“He is here,” Saiyu answered.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes, although he remains unconscious.”
Rikèq rested back against his pillow, but the corners of his mouth curved down. “I . . . I still cannot believe Keno and Aydar are gone. They were with us, and then—and Aydar sacrificed—”
Tikina stroked his hair, shushing him. “Do not occupy your mind with those thoughts. What you must do now is rest and recuperate.” She pulled the blanket further up his chest. “Try to get some sleep, Rikèq.”
The Elders silently headed out of the building and wound toward their assembly neyra. They left the door open so Magèo could walk in, then gathered around a wooden table. Ashack had brought out one of their many maps and spread it on the tabletop. They were discussing what they’d learned from Rikèq when a voice curtly interrupted, “I believe I was summoned?”
Magèo entered, wearing his bland tunic with his long beard hanging over his stomach.
“Welcome, old friend,” Nageau said, moving over so the newcomer could cram in beside him and Tayoka.
Magèo peered at the map, his different-colored eyes squinting. “So. What is going on?”
Tayoka gave him a brief rundown of Rikèq’s account. Magèo rubbed his beard, listening carefully. “Did Rikèq say at all what those people in the mountain are doing?” he asked. “Aydar was the omnilinguist among them. Surely we must have some information.”
“He mentioned that Aydar heard the people were mining for a rare ore. Aydar also told him that the man leading these miners is using a certain compound to get to the ore quicker. We are not sure if this compound is the source of the illness.”
Magèo looked from Elder to Elder, slowly rubbing his nails over the palm of his other hand. “I see . . . Do we have a map of the water tables and water sources for the area?”
Ashack reached out to grab another map and unrolled the parchment. Magèo ran his finger over it, following streams and rivers as he mumbled to himself.
He then moved around the table to stand on the opposite side of the map and again traced a different branch of water sources. He tilted his head to his shoulder, squinting. “Hmm.” He pulled out a crumpled parchment from a pocket in his tunic and compared what was written on it with the map. “Mmhm.”
The Elders didn’t even look at one another. Accustomed to the old man’s oddities, they let his brilliant mind sort out the connections. They didn’t have to wait long. Magèo walked back to his original spot once he’d studied the water table at the bottom corner of the map. He looked up at the Elders and pronounced, “The mining activity atop Ayen’et is the source of the poisoning of our waters!”
The Elders had suspected as much, but the old man helped to confirm their notion. “Can you say this with absolute certainty, though?” Ashack asked.
Slighted by the question, Magèo scowled. “I have made all the necessary comparisons,” he rumbled, holding the crumpled notes over his head. “The elevated level of the water table inside the mountain is unique. This aquifer is connected to the two major river systems in the region. All those who have been affected by this illness have been exposed to the water at one of the branches of this twin system. The compound that is being used has seeped into the underground water. It must be a poison that has reacted with the local minerals to form something even more dangerous.”
“Then we need to put an immediate st
op to the activities on that mountain,” Nageau said. “We do not have any other option.”
47
Clouds drifted past the moon, hiding it from sight and plunging the valley into near darkness. The quiet gurgling of the river through the village provided a steady background din to make up for the absence of people, who had all retired for the night. Kody inhaled the crispness of the air, appreciating it more with his new sensory abilities.
The medium-sized rectangular building at the eastern end of the valley had no windows as far as the friends could tell. The logs used to build it appeared thoroughly seasoned, indicating that it was one of the older structures in the valley. The faintest sounds of music and laughter just barely spilled into the night from within.
Looks like we’re at the right place, Kody thought.
They headed for the door and Jag reached up to knock, but before his knuckles could land on the wood, the door swung open. Aesròn’s distinctive green eyes and grinning face appeared and he ushered them in. The friends, caught off guard, stumbled in as Aesròn closed the door behind them. “Welcome,” he beamed.
The group looked around. Though it was older, the building was spacious and cozy. Overhead, large exposed log beams held up the roof. To the right of the entrance was a beverage counter with a hot-stone grill behind it and a bottle rack against the wall. On the grill, slices of seasoned meat and green peppers sizzled, permeating the air with an enticing aroma. In front of the friends were six circular wooden tables with half a dozen chairs each.
A couple of youths lounged at a table, watching three others playing instruments in the far left corner of the hall. A colorful rug was spread by the musicians’ feet. The interior was brightly lit with a variety of oil lamps, some hanging from the overhead beams, others attached to the walls. At the opposite end of the room, two lofty torches flanked a large wood-framed glass door. As the moon reappeared, the friends could see a deck overlooking a steep drop that led to the plains beyond the valley.
The two Dema-Ki girls in the building wore similar garb to that of the six boys: moose-hide shirt and pants with moccasin boots. The vibrations of indigenous music filled the hall, and there was laughter all around. Kody’s head involuntarily bobbed along with the melody.
Hutar came up beside Aesròn. His face was taut, and he seemed tired. Kody recognized the look—but couldn’t say if it was one borne of weariness or loss. But when Hutar greeted the friends, it all disappeared.
“You decided to come! Fantastic.” He took Mariah’s arm and Aesròn took Tegan’s. Kody caught the girls looking at each other with eyebrows raised, but they went along. The hosts led the group to the serving area. Matikè was behind the counter and she smiled at the newcomers.
“What’s the occasion here?” Jag asked, looking around again.
“We usually have these get-togethers once in a while,” Aesròn answered. “It is just a gathering of friends.”
“Seems like an interesting party.”
Hutar and Aesròn gave each other knavish grins, and Hutar reached over to amicably smack Jag on the back. “How is your training going?” he asked.
The friends took turns sharing their thoughts and feelings, keeping it light. Aesròn leaned on the countertop, chin in hand, and listened attentively. “It is good to hear that you are progressing well,” he said.
Matikè placed two drinks on the counter. Aesròn took one for himself and passed the other to Hutar.
“Would you five like one of these beverages?” Hutar asked.
Aesròn tilted his ceramic mug so Tegan could get a peek at the light blue liquid inside. She took a quick sniff. “What is it?”
“Elýrnì—fermented drinks with a taste that dances delightfully on your tongue,” Hutar answered, his mouth lifting in a mischievous grin.
“Oh . . . I don’t know. Probably shouldn’t. Have to stay sharp for training and all that.”
The others declined as well. Hutar and Aesròn shrugged and downed their drinks enthusiastically, then slammed their empty mugs on the counter at the same time with a laugh.
Hutar turned to Matikè and spoke to her in their native tongue. She nodded. “I asked her to prepare some non-fermented drinks for you,” Hutar explained to the friends. “They should be ready in a moment. I would make them myself, but Matikè is the expert amongst the youths.”
“So this is the community hall?” Mariah asked.
“Well, it used to be. A new, bigger building was built closer to the temple, so everyone drifted toward it. No one really bothers with this one anymore, so this is a den for the youths.” Hutar looked toward the three musicians, then offered Mariah his arm again and gestured for the friends to follow him. They weaved past the tables to get an up-front view of the musicians.
One of the youths played an instrument that looked like a mandolin with two necks, and another was keeping beat on a hand drum. Beside them, a girl, probably a year older than the friends with her chestnut hair in a single braid, played a wind instrument like a set of Pan pipes. The music they made was upbeat and energizing. Soon toes were tapping and hands were clapping, and there were smiles and cheers across the hall.
Hutar heard Matikè call from the counter. “Ah!” he said. “Your drinks are ready.”
Kody was the first to answer the call. It didn’t matter to him whether it was food or a beverage that was being served, because both were delicious when the villagers made it. He thanked Matikè as he took his drink, though he wasn’t sure if she understood him.
He faced the room and leaned back against the counter as his friends joined him and waited for Matikè to hand them their mugs. He gazed around and casually rotated his wrist, swirling the light-colored drink.
It took several moments before he realized that the youths had quieted a little. He saw Hutar and Aesròn standing together and chatting a few feet away, but as he focused his sight, he saw that they were watching the friends out of the corners of their eyes.
There was an almost anticipative gleam in their stares as Kody brought his beverage up to his mouth. He frowned but thought, Maybe they just want to see what we think of their drinks. It’s probably wonderful, like everything else.
As his mug passed under his nose, something made him stop. He paused, working fast to be absolutely certain, then put the drink down and turned just in time to see the others bringing their mugs up for a swig.
“Stop!” he bellowed.
The entire hall came to a standstill; Kody didn’t realize how loud he’d been.
“What is it?” Aari asked.
“Something’s wrong with the drink.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t smell right.” Kody pushed his own mug away.
Jag took a whiff of his beverage. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Trust me, there’s something wrong with it.”
Hutar sidled over to the group. “The drinks are perfectly fine, my friends,” he reassured them. “Matikè is the best brewer we have.”
“Yeah, it smells okay to me too,” Tegan said. “What did you smell, Kody?”
Keeping his gaze level with Hutar, Kody said, “The poison that’s contaminating the water.”
“Hah!” Hutar smiled, but now Kody could see clearly that his smile was devoid of any humor. “Why would the poison be in your drink? And besides, we have heard that the contaminant is odorless.”
“Nageau took me to Magèo’s a few days ago so I could take a whiff of the contaminated water myself. We wanted to see if I could scent it. I thought I did, but I wasn’t sure. Until now.” Kody glanced at his friends. “You guys have to trust me. Those drinks aren’t safe.”
Hutar’s smile slowly fell and his eyes narrowed to slits. He motioned at Aesròn, who made his way to the front door and bolted it shut. The other youths, including the musicians who had put down their instruments, made a loose ring around the friends and Hutar. A chill filled the air. The friends instinctively clustered together, forming a defensive circle.
Kody was vaguely reminded that this was exactly how they had stood when facing the rabid wolves a few weeks ago.
Jag’s mouth pulled into a flat line. “This isn’t a party, is it?”
Hutar smirked. “You could say that it is a celebration for what is to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were supposed to take the drinks without a problem.”
“So it really is poisoned?”
Hutar shrugged. “It does not matter now, because none of you will drink it. So we will have to deal with you ourselves.”
As he spoke, the ring of youths stepped closer. Jag tried to shepherd his friends to the door but was pushed back by two of the boys. His fists clenched. “We’re not looking for a fight,” he growled.
One of the youths sneered. “What a shame.” Before Jag could blink, the boy landed a hard cross-punch to his stomach. Jag doubled over, gasping in pain.
“Hey!” Kody rushed in to help but another youth thrust him away.
Jag turned a scalding stare on the boy who’d struck him. “Punk,” he spat. He lunged and tackled the youth, throwing several solid punches. Another youth came up behind him, hunting knife drawn, and was about to plunge the blade into Jag’s back when Tegan leapt forward and jammed her shoulder into the youth’s upper body, throwing him off balance.
As the other youths tried to move in to help, Kody spotted Mariah and Aari at the fringes. “Get the Elders!” he yelled.
Mariah caught Aari’s gaze and motioned with her eyes in the direction of the glass door that led to the deck. The two backed away slowly, then turned and made a break for it.
Aesròn watched them from where he stood on the bar counter overlooking the scene. He crouched like a panther and made a fifteen-foot leap to one of the large log tables across the room. From there, he launched himself against the wall to his left, momentarily clinging like a spider, and bounded in front of the glass door in time to intercept Aari and Mariah. He gave them a menacing smile that made their blood run cold. “Going somewhere?”
At the other end of the building, it took three youths to pull a furious Jag away from their friend. They shoved him to the ground and one of them hooked his arm around Jag’s neck, cutting off his air. The youth who Jag had punched sat up, wiping blood from his bottom lip and nose, then spat at the younger boy. Kody tried to jump in again to help but the girl who had been playing the wind instrument held him back with strength unexpected from someone her size.
