“There’re many types of fire ants, but most of them live much farther south in damp jungles with lots of rain. Those forests tend to be very dense. Trees need sunlight to grow, so the amount of light a tree can get is very important. When fire ants pick a tree for their nest, they’ll eat all the others around it, letting the one they choose grow strong and healthy.”
The dappled sunlight fell on Elin’s face, and she squinted against the brightness. “Yugula fire ants are unusual because they live in cold places where snow falls. But they still eat the trees surrounding their nest, making a grassy clearing around it. That must be very pleasant for the ants because it’s warm.”
Jesse observed the ants swarming around the crack in the trunk. “They’re like soldiers, aren’t they?” he said. “They’re probably attacking everything around their base so they can make it bigger.”
Elin’s brows shot up. He was still so young; she hadn’t expected him to say such things. But perhaps he’d learned something about war tactics while play-fighting with other boys. “I see what you mean,” she said. “Yugula ants and people both try to make their lives better by snatching up everything around them.”
Jesse nodded. “The best way to win is to get lots of powerful allies. That tree was lucky to have such strong bugs on its side.”
Elin smiled. “It wasn’t lucky. It drew the luck to it.”
“What?”
“That’s a kogu tree. Its sap smells sweet. The ants made their nest in it because they were drawn to the smell.”
Jesse’s eyes grew round. “Oh, I get it. The tree used food to get them on its side, just like Potchi!”
“Potchi?”
“Yeah. His father runs the fahko bakery. Potchi used to get his Mom to make jugu cookies and then tell everyone he’d give them some if they’d join him. That’s why he always won. I really wanted to beat him one day, even just once.”
Jesse’s expression changed suddenly. “But how come only that tree has sweet sap? It’s not fair. Why don’t the others have some? If one tree can attract fire ants while the rest can’t, the winner’s already decided from the start. That’s not a fair fight.” He looked up at Elin. “Why is it that way?”
Elin placed a hand on his head. “I don’t know, Jesse. But Yugula fire ants aren’t the only things trees depend on to survive. Take this tree here, for instance. Its blossoms will be replaced with sweet little fruit. The birds love them and gobble them up, seeds and all. What do you think happens to those seeds?”
Jesse thought for a moment, then grinned. “They come out in their poop. Plop! Plop! Plop!” He burst into a fit of giggles.
Elin laughed and gave him a gentle rap with her knuckles. “I’ve never figured out why kids like poop so much. But you’re right.”
Jesse frowned. “But what’s the point of turning them into poop? That doesn’t help the tree.”
“Oh, but it does! Wrapping a seed in poop is like wrapping it in fertilizer. When it falls to the ground, it’s got enough food to make it grow big and strong. This tree lets the birds carry its children so they can set down roots all over.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “That’s pretty smart!” He fell silent, biting his lip as he stared at the trees around him.
“What’re you thinking about?” Elin asked.
Frowning, he said, “It’s just kind of creepy. It never occurred to me that trees might have thoughts of their own or do things like that. It’s weird, you know.”
A breeze passed through the wood, stirring the leaves. Looking up at the branches, Jesse shivered. Elin wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze. “When I was about your age, I thought exactly the same thing.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Trees, bugs, birds, beasts. I suddenly realized that maybe they weren’t what I’d thought they were. If trees can’t think or talk, then why can they attract birds to carry their seeds or bugs to protect them? Is it coincidence? Or do trees do it on purpose, and if so, how?”
When she finished speaking, all that could be heard was the rustling of the leaves, the occasional bird hopping from one branch to another, or a trill of birdsong, and even these sounds seemed to sink into the stillness.
Feeling the warmth of her son against her chest, Elin stared at the sky through the branches. “When I was young,” she said finally, “I wanted to know all those things. I thought if I read lots of books and studied hard, one day I’d understand…”
She rested her chin on Jesse’s hair, warmed by the sun. A smile touched her face. “But you know what? I don’t think that day will ever come.”
Jesse twisted his head to look at her. “Why not? You don’t know that, Mom. It might happen.”
There was a note of apprehension in his voice, and Elin tightened her grip. “The world is so huge,” she murmured, her chin still resting on his head. “And people are so small. It’s impossible for just one person to see the whole picture.
“Still, we have words so we can tell others what we find out. There was a beast doctor named Tokima who died a long time ago. But in one of his books he wrote about the galyo, poisonous water lizards that live in the marshes far to the south. He studied them for many years, hoping to find an antidote for their poison. During that process, he accidentally discovered that water temperature determines whether their eggs will hatch males or females. He only wrote a few lines about that, but because I’d read his book, I was able to figure out that water temperature also determines the sex of Toda when they’re in the egg.”
Still gazing at the sky, she continued, “The life of one person is short, but there’re a lot of us. If we keep recording everything we know, down to the smallest scrap of information, those records can lead others to important discoveries. At least, that’s what I think. We’re living on the far edge of the lives of many who came before us, people we never even knew. In the same way, others will carry on from the far edge of our lives.”
Whether Jesse understood or not, she couldn’t tell, but he was listening. It doesn’t matter, she thought. She hadn’t understood most of what her mother had told her either. But fragments of her words had remained deep inside Elin’s mind, surfacing again much later, each time bringing memories of her mother, who was long gone.
“Jesse,” she murmured in his ear. “Imagine holding a torch. Its light only reaches the world around your feet. But if many people use the flame from that torch to light their own, it will bring a much wider world out of the darkness.” She gazed at the trees waving in the spring breeze. “That’s what I want to be,” she said. “Someone who can pass on that flame.”
4
JESSE’S DREAM
Sitting beside the campfire, Jesse unwrapped the layers of oiled paper containing his lunch and looked inside. His eyes widened. “Mom!” he shouted. “Did you wrap our lunch in leaves?”
“Careful!” Elin said. “You’ll spill the sauce. Put it flat on your knees.”
Jesse hastily did as he was told, bringing his knees together so that the bundle, wrapped in a big, shiny leaf, rested on his lap. He struggled to untie the string that bound it, but it was slippery with juice, making it difficult to undo.
“Why’d you go and tie it up like this?” he grumbled as he worked on the string. “It just makes more work, doesn’t it?” When he finally got the leaf open, however, his jaw dropped. “What’s this? Meat! And underneath, is that rice?”
Laughing, Elin passed him a pair of chopsticks. “That’s right,” she said. “Rice is best eaten hot, but it should still taste good even cold. Go ahead and try some.”
She had cut the boar meat into chunks to make it easier to eat. Jesse popped a piece into his mouth.
“Mmm!” Juice trickled down his chin. He wiped it away quickly and seemed about to say something, but Elin stopped him.
“Don’t rush,” she said. “Wait until you’ve swallowed your food before you talk.”
Nodding, Jesse swallowed, then broke into a broad grin. “Wow! Yum!”
&
nbsp; “Say ‘delicious,’ not ‘yum.’ You need to work on your manners, Jesse.”
“Who cares! Something this good is yummy! The meat’s so tender!”
Elin watched him as he grasped another chunk of meat with his chopsticks. Slipping her hands under his leaf, she raised the bundle of food up. “Try eating it with the rice, too.”
Jesse shoveled some rice and meat into his mouth. His eyes grew round, and his cheeks bulged like a squirrel’s when full of nuts. He nodded emphatically. A warmth spread through Elin’s chest at the sight of his face. Still holding his leaf for him, she said, “It’s boar meat. I wrapped it in this leaf with spicy miso and sweet lacos fruit and steamed it in the oven. The leaf I cooked it in wilted, so I wrapped it in a new one for carrying.”
When Jesse had almost finished and could hold his meal with one hand, Elin took a mouthful of her own. Tender boar meat steeped with lacos and spicy miso, rice well flavored with sauce—it was such a delicious and familiar taste.
“My mother used to make this,” she said.
Jesse’s brows rose. “You mean the Toda doctor?”
“Yes,” Elin said. “People in Aluhan territory eat a lot of rice, you know.” She had to force down the flood of words that threatened to follow. He was still too young to hear the story of Elin’s mother; too young to understand what it meant to have Ahlyo blood or why her mother would have chosen silence, even though it meant she would be executed.
She removed a grain of rice from Jesse’s cheek, then tapped his nose playfully with her finger.
Jesse frowned and shook his head. “Stop that! I’m not a kid anymore, you know!”
Elin laughed and took the empty leaf from his lap before he could spill any of the sauce on his clothes. Though delicious, the dish’s one flaw was the stickiness of the sauce.
Together, they walked down to the water and washed their hands. Elin passed Jesse a towel and pointed to a bag she had placed in the river. “There’s chuku fruit inside that bag. Can you go get them for me?”
“Why me? You’re closer,” he grumbled as he nonetheless ran over to take out two dark red and well-ripened chuku from the bag. After trotting back to Elin, he handed her one. They sat down on a rock and peeled the fruit, enjoying the sweet, citrusy aroma. The sunshine pouring down on the field kept them comfortably warm.
“Jesse,” Elin said as she removed the peel. “You know I got a letter from your father the other day.”
“Yeah.”
“He told me to ask you about your future.”
Jesse blinked. “My future?”
“Yes. You turn eleven this year. It’s time you started thinking about what you want to do next. You have a few more options than kids born to the artisan class. Because your father’s a Toda Rider, you could rise up into the warrior class if you wanted.” Although she fervently hoped he wouldn’t choose that path, Elin strove to keep her voice neutral.
Jesse frowned, as though thinking.
“You could also become a cabinetmaker, like your father when we lived in town. In that case, we’ll need to find you a good teacher so you can apprentice. You might feel lonely living away from home, but that’s what all artisan children do. The master carpenter will pay your food and board, which means your father and I can save up some money for when you go independent.”
Jesse glanced at his mother, wondering if he could tell from her face which she wanted him to choose. But she just smiled gently.
A cabinetmaker …
The sharp scent of wood chips that pricked his nostrils rose in his mind. Jesse loved watching his father build his beautiful cabinets, smoothing the wood with rhythmic sweeps of his plane, and he’d often made his own toys from scraps of wood. To grow up to be like his father would be awesome.
It would be great to have his room and meals paid for, too. All his friends in town were already apprentices in some trade or other. He felt ashamed to be the only one who was still being fed and cared for by his parents, as though he were a kid. Although the thought of moving away from his mother made him a little anxious, not being able to live away from home would prove he was still a boy. To apprentice like his friends was the manly thing to do. Yet when he tried to picture himself as a cabinetmaker, it just didn’t feel right. Why?
As he was pondering the question, he caught a flicker of motion in the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw a little lizard, a kanachoro, climbing up a nearby rock. Its skin shimmered like a rainbow, and light rippled down its back with each movement. Maybe it wanted to nap in the sun, because as soon as it reached the top, it raised its nose and stopped moving.
“Mom,” Jesse said. “Do Toda nap in the sun, too?” Glancing at her, he saw she was also looking at the kanachoro.
“Yes, they do. On a sunny day, they crawl out and sunbathe on the riverbanks.” She looked at him. “Unlike humans or Royal Beasts, the body temperature of lizards like that kanachoro changes with the temperature of the surroundings. That’s why they move a lot more when it’s warm.”
“Really? Toda, too?”
“Toda are more affected by the surrounding temperature than humans or Royal Beasts, but not as much as lizards or snakes.”
“Hmm.” A little bubble rose in Jesse’s breast and floated up to form words. “Mom, I want to be like you.”
His mother blinked.
“Like me?” she asked. “You mean you want to be a beast doctor?”
Jesse was looking at her as though surprised by what he’d just said. “A beast doctor? Umm. Yeah, I guess, but…” Looking up at her, he whispered, “Can I tell you the truth?”
Elin nodded. He took a deep breath, as if he needed to gather his courage. “I want to be a Beast Handler like you,” he said.
Elin stared at him, feeling a deep pain in her heart. A Beast Handler. Where had he learned such an expression? She wondered if that’s what the guards or teachers called her. These thoughts were followed rapidly by a complex mix of inexpressible emotions that filled her chest.
The boy had lived with the Royal Beasts from the time he was born. He’d watched her control the huge creatures seemingly with ease, even though everyone else feared them and believed they couldn’t be tamed. It was only natural that he would want to try controlling them, too. Just as she had once longed to be like her mother, who had looked so brave and calm when she stroked the Toda that scared everyone else.
Unable to find words, Elin could only stare at her son. Dread seeped through her bones, expanding through her body, and the blood drained from her face.
If he chooses to enter Kazalumu School, he’s bound to follow the same path as me …
Should she say no? Should she forbid him to even consider it? Because she believed that was best for him? Even as these thoughts ran through her mind, however, she knew that would be wrong.
Jesse’s life is his own.
When she remembered what had driven her to connect with the Royal Beasts and the beauty of what she had gained through that connection, she couldn’t bring herself to bend him to her will. She wanted to tell him everything—not just the joy of communing with the Royal Beasts but also the terrible burden that came with it—so that he could choose for himself. But he was far too young to understand.
I’ll just have to take the time he needs and keep thinking about how to tell him while I watch him grow.
“Jesse,” she whispered, then drew a deep breath. “If you wish to be a beast doctor, you must study many things so that you can pass the exams and enter Kazalumu School. It’s too far to commute to the school in town, so I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
Jesse leaned forward. “Mom! I want to be—”
Elin raised her hand. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about being a ‘handler’ of Royal Beasts again, Jesse.”
Jesse flinched and hunched his shoulders. “Why?”
Gazing straight into his eyes, Elin said quietly, “You can’t understand why I would say that, can you?”
Jesse shook his head.
>
“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t say it.” As the words left her mouth, Elin heard her mother’s voice in her ear. She had once told Elin the same thing. Elin’s mouth twisted. “Jesse,” she said huskily, “Remember what I just told you and really think about it. If you do, one day you’ll understand how I feel.”
He scowled, and she gazed at his face silently for a moment. “Once you’ve decided what you want to be,” she said, “tell me. There’s no hurry. Think about it carefully before you decide.”
* * *
In the evening three days later, Jesse told her. He came over to where she was laying out their bedding and announced, “I’ve made up my mind. Even if you say no, I want to stay with Alu and the others. I’m going to become a beast doctor like you.”
Elin stared at him for a long time. A strong light gleamed in his eyes, and she could tell from his stance that he wouldn’t change his mind unless she had a very good reason.
If she let him make this choice, she knew that one day he was sure to tread the path she now walked. Yet she longed to let him do what he wished. All this time, she had worked to burn away the thick mist that covered the way ahead. Those efforts would help clear the path for him, too. She would keep trying to chase that mist away, so that when it came time for him to set foot on this road, he could see where it led.
Jesse loved the Royal Beasts from the depths of his being. With that love as his core, he would grow and mature. Once he understood more, he’d be able to grasp unerringly what she had meant before. Then they could talk, as fellow travelers, their eyes fixed on the same destination.
She looked at Jesse and smiled. “In that case, write to your father and tell him what you’ve decided.”
Jesse’s eyes brightened. “All right!”
Elin schooled her face into a stern expression. “From tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll help you with your studies. But Jesse, the entrance exam isn’t easy. Children come from all over Lyoza determined to enter Kazalumu School. Whether you get in depends on you. If you fail, you’ll have to apprentice. So be prepared.”
The Beast Warrior Page 28
