The Timekeeper's Moon

by Joni Sensel

  “Mm. Could be.” His fingers tapping, Scarl counted from the top to the moon pierced by an arrow: “… six, seven, eighth moon.”

  “August, in most years,” she said. “I told you so. Full moon, I suppose. Wouldn’t you draw the arrow through the space between dots for a dark moon?”

  He nodded. “It points to a day, then. Not just a month. A day marked by August’s full moon.”

  “The Dog Moon.”

  Scarl glanced skyward. “Let’s see, the July moon must be getting thin….”

  “Dark moon tonight.” Fighting a blush, Ariel added, “The bleeding almost always starts then.”

  “Ah. So we’ve got two weeks.”

  Ariel thought wistfully about lingering in Skunk. But they had no idea how far away Tattler might actually be.

  “Two weeks until what, though?” Scarl continued. “Something happens? Something stops? Or something needs to be done? And why does it matter?”

  A chill ran through Ariel. Skunk’s fetid smells and overgrown vegetation pressed too tightly around her. In a flash of panic, she jumped up. Her legs wanted to run.

  Concern flooded Scarl’s face. He reached toward her. “Ariel, what? Did you just glimpse some answer to my questions?”

  “No. The swamp air just smothers me, that’s all.” Her voice trembled. “I need to get away for a walk. I feel trapped.”

  She hurried away, but she felt Scarl’s frown on her back as she went.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dog Moon and Decisions

  Ariel nearly trampled Sienna, who was just mounting the platform.

  “The pit is hot enough for me to make your hair clips,” said the Flame-Mage.

  Ariel brightened. Her walk could wait until they’d worked out the deal. “Did you think of something fair to trade?”

  “Yes.” Sienna’s eyes darted toward Scarl. She squared her shoulders and announced, “I want you to take me when you leave here. As far as the next village, at least.”

  Ariel choked. “What for?”

  “I’m eighteen and I want to get married.” A plaintive note slipped into Sienna’s voice. “And have a baby. There is nobody in Skunk for me to marry except little boys who still have to grow up or men who are too closely related to me.”

  “But I don’t know where we’re going next,” Ariel said. “I want to keep walking southeast, but there might not be any village that way. Nobody here thinks anything’s out there except Tattler.”

  “Fairy tales don’t scare me,” Sienna replied. “Are you going to walk off the edge of the world?”

  Ariel fidgeted. “I don’t think so.”

  “Of course not. So you’ll have to arrive somewhere eventually. That’ll do.”

  “There may not be anyone there who is better.”

  “There has to be,” Sienna insisted. “At least I won’t be cousins with anyone there, and they’ll all be new and interesting, not people I’m bored with. Even if there’s nobody I want to marry, I’m a good Flame-Mage. I can trade for food and somewhere to sleep.”

  Shaking her head, Ariel said, “How about this? I’ll come back for you before I go home and take you somewhere I’ve already been.” Ariel ignored the muttering fear that she might not return from this particular trip. “Somewhere nice. Before winter. Okay?”

  “No. Now. That’s the trade for the hair clips.” Sienna’s face hardened. “Do you want them or not?”

  Ariel gave Scarl a look of dismay. He was watching, his features so blank that she knew he thought ill of the idea but was trying not to show it.

  “Don’t look to me,” he said. “It’s your decision. Whether we both leave tomorrow or not.”

  “I was thinking of staying a bit longer in Skunk,” Ariel explained to Sienna. It wasn’t quite true, but she hoped it might dissuade the Flame-Mage.

  “Fine. I’ll go with you as soon as you leave.”

  “It could be weeks before we arrive anywhere, though. You’ll have to walk the whole way.” Ariel described blisters and biting insects and storms, as well as the chance they might run low on water or food.

  “It’ll be worth it,” Sienna said. “I’ll bring anything you say I need. I’ll make a fire every night and every morning, if you want, and I’ll cook for you, too. I won’t complain a word. Ask my master. He’ll tell you—I’ve never groused about burns or anything he set me to do.”

  Ariel huffed air into her bangs. “Just a minute.”

  She approached Scarl to whisper with him. He heard her concerns, nodding, and he reminded her that she could also talk to Sienna’s master about working the glass, or find another Flame-Mage somewhere else. He remained adamant, however, about leaving the choice to her.

  And she very much wanted the hair clips that Sienna had helped her imagine.

  Ariel’s fingers rose to worry her necklace as she struggled with the decision. Something tickled the back of her mind. It wasn’t the voice of the moon but an intuition, contrary to all common sense, that she should agree to the deal.

  Ariel turned back to the Flame-Mage. “The next village, whatever and wherever it is.”

  “Anywhere that’s not here,” Sienna said.

  “If you change your mind after we leave, you find your way back by yourself.”

  Scarl raised his eyebrows at that, but Sienna nodded. “All right. But I won’t.”

  “Okay.”

  Sienna whooped and drummed her feet on the platform. “I’m so excited! It’ll be fun.”

  “I guess it might,” Ariel allowed, catching Sienna’s enthusiasm.

  “I promise it will. Thank you.” Sienna graced Scarl with her smile as well, repeating her thanks.

  He only waggled his head with an expression that said, “We’ll see.”

  Sienna turned quickly back to Ariel. “So we leave tomorrow, or later, or what? Tomorrow’s not too soon for me.”

  An image of Nace rose in Ariel’s mind, and the hand he’d held tingled, but she hadn’t forgotten the map, either. Or a Tattler to find in two weeks. She nodded. “Yes. Early.”

  Her decision not to stay here in safety while Scarl sought Tattler didn’t please him much, either. But he said nothing.

  “Where’s your glass, then?” Sienna asked. “I’ve got to start now to finish properly.”

  Ariel retrieved it and handed it over. Watching Sienna depart, she imagined leaving Skunk with her the next day. The uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed upon her. Reluctant to face it or make preparations, she spurted away to escape for her long-delayed walk.

  After charging blindly down the ladder, she headed in a direction she hadn’t explored yet. A sharp whistle stopped her. When she looked around, Nace was waving at her from a distance. He crooked a finger at her: Come here. His other arm cradled a bundle.

  Willingly Ariel gave up on her walk. As she caught up with Nace, he gestured for her to follow.

  “Where are we going?” She didn’t expect an answer but couldn’t help wondering aloud.

  He turned toward her. Hesitant, he tapped a finger near his eye.

  “To see…?”

  Beaming, he nodded and added a few other quick gestures she couldn’t begin to interpret.

  “To see… something.” She sighed.

  His smile sank.

  Ariel stepped forward. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Nace tipped his head to ponder her. Ariel wished she could hear his thoughts even more than she wished he could speak.

  He reached for her hand, watching her face to gauge her reaction. At first she thought he was trying another way to communicate with her. When she realized he meant only to hold it, her heart quickened, pumping heat to her face. But she didn’t pull her fingers away. His grin returning, he led her on.

  This time, their hands weren’t muddy, but Ariel’s quickly grew sweaty. She groaned inwardly, certain Nace must think she had a squid attached to her wrist rather than fingers. Her skin felt so fishy she didn’t realize his palm was as sweaty as hers.

  They passe
d Willow, tethered on drier ground. Nace clucked to the horse, earning a whinny, but did not pause. After another short distance, he released Ariel’s hand to put one finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet.

  Slowly they crept to the edge of a clearing. A litter of fox kits scampered about a hollow log while Mama Fox yawned in the sun.

  Ariel crowed under her breath. The mother fox jerked her snout toward them. Nace whistled softly, a few notes repeated. Her ears flicked, but she didn’t get up. One careful step at a time, Nace drew Ariel forward. Not far from the log, he sank to his knees in the grass, pulling her with him.

  The mother fox slowly relaxed, and the kits wrestled and gnawed on each another. Nace grinned at Ariel’s muffled giggles.

  He unwrapped the bundle he’d tucked under his arm. Ariel could smell the melon before the cloth fell away. With it were cold meat and honeycomb. He tapped his stomach and pointed at her: Are you hungry?

  Ariel didn’t need to be hungry to eat melon or honeycomb. She nodded eagerly.

  They nibbled and watched the fox babies. Although she enjoyed them, Ariel’s gaze kept straying to Nace. With a few whispered yes-or-no questions, she learned that the honeycomb came from a hive he tended himself. Her praise made him glow.

  Silence rested between them again. Ariel wanted to scratch it.

  “When we were swinging this morning,” she said, “and you wanted me to jump on piggyback, the kids understood the movement you made.” He shrugged, and she continued. “Will you teach me more of your words?”

  He licked melon juice from his fingers for so long, she feared she’d offended him. But at last he pointed to the foxes and repeated the gesture he’d made earlier when she’d asked where they were going. This time, Ariel understood it as a reference to pointed noses and ears.

  “Fox,” she said. He nodded.

  They spent a few minutes on easy signs for their food, the grass, and their clothing. Most were obvious with the things there before her. Ariel quickly realized, however, that ideas or actions would be much harder to put into gestures.

  When he ran out of items nearby, he stopped, his face no longer bright. She didn’t push for more. Instead of helping her talk with him better, their efforts had mostly sharpened the gulf between them.

  With regret, Ariel reached to squeeze his forearm. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll try to remember all those.”

  She let go, but Nace caught her wrist and drew her hand back. He traced designs on her palm. Ariel’s breath stopped. It felt as though he were singing to her hand.

  Goose bumps rippled through her, without sign of abating, until at last she slid her hand from his grasp. His touch was even more delicious than the honeycomb, but too overwhelming.

  “Nace, I—,” she began, not sure whether an apology or explanation would follow. His green gaze shot up to meet hers, and his fingers leaped to still her lips.

  Two things instantly struck Ariel. The first was the startled look in his eyes, as if she’d silenced him and not the other way around. The second was an old memory of Scarl hushing her thus—and how utterly different the Finder’s curt motion had felt. Nace’s touch was intended not to tame her but to keep her in the wild.

  Their eyes locked. Neither breathed, but Nace did not lower his fingers. Instead they slid, light as feathers, to trace Ariel’s mouth. They stayed to travel the scar on her cheek and follow it back to her lips. He watched his fingertips move as if they belonged to somebody else.

  Engulfed in invisible fire, Ariel parted her lips to say something, with no idea what. Accordingly, nothing came out.

  Nace caught his own lower lip in his teeth.

  That scared her. Fingers on lips were startling enough. Two sets of lips were a kiss. On the brink of a territory she’d never explored, Ariel faltered. She shrank back an inch.

  Nace’s fingers hovered and dropped. His gaze followed. He studied the grass between them, his hair falling forward to veil his expression. His breathing, and hers, sounded too loud in the silence. Unsure whether he was hurt or angry or something else altogether, Ariel said the only words that might work regardless.

  “I’m sorry!”

  Still flooded with fizzing sensations, she jumped up and fled.

  CHAPTER 14

  Dark Dog Moon’s First Night

  What amazed Ariel most was how Skunk and Scarl and everything else could still be the same when she felt so different.

  She’d run all the way back to the village and then paced below the common platform, shaking. She climbed up only when Scarl called down to ask if that was her splashing around. Carefully she peeped over the top of the ladder. She expected him to take one look and see that she’d held hands with a boy she’d thought, for a moment, might kiss her.

  Scarl only asked if she was hungry. Dumbfounded, she shook her head and sank down near her pack, hoping she looked busy with it, when in fact she was staring at the gray wood beneath and seeing nothing. She relived the last hour and worried about the next time she saw Nace.

  Scarl went off on some errand. With the platform to herself, Ariel could swoon and fret freely. She thought of Sienna. She jumped up to find the Flame-Mage, wanting to share what had happened. She dropped back to her seat almost as fast. Sienna had spoken ill of Nace.

  When Scarl returned, Ariel watched him anxiously. She longed to tell someone about the astonishing things she’d just felt, but she didn’t know how he’d react.

  “Scarl?” When he gave her his attention, she couldn’t make her mouth go any farther except to add, “Nothing.”

  He raised one eyebrow at her. “That’s a little hard to believe.”

  She shook her head impatiently.

  “Okay, well… my ears will work later, too.” He studied her. “Change your mind about staying? You can.”

  She could. She could eat another picnic with Nace and splash with him through the swamp again, fingers knit. She could tell him to kiss her, if that’s what he wanted.

  A pained laugh escaped her. She could never do that. The mere idea made her tremble. Besides, she feared the moon would start niggling again. Would Nace look at her differently if he knew she heard a voice from the sky?

  “No, I can’t. I can’t stop here, Scarl. We have only two weeks.”

  He wanted to reassure her, to convince her to stay. She could see it in his face. But when he finally spoke, he said only, “And Sienna?”

  Ariel wrinkled her nose. “That’ll be all right, I think. I know it’s odd, but I want her to come.”

  “Hmm. I suppose she can’t be any worse than that fellow from Ajian.”

  The unfortunate Storian of whom Scarl spoke had been so nervous about leaving home that he’d counted each step aloud and hiccuped the whole way to the abbey. Remembering, Ariel snickered and mimicked his hiccup. That made her laugh. Soon, for the second time that day, irrational mirth overtook her.

  Scarl shook his head in wonder. “The moon does something to you, that’s clear. I’ll try not to be so amusing.”

  Laughing harder, she managed, “Please!”

  Gasping, Ariel lay back on the platform to stare at the sky and ponder how she had lost all control of her body. As her giggles leaked out, though, so did her unsettled feelings. Thoughts of Nace still made her quiver, but she began looking forward to walking again. Tattler might be a giant as well as the telling darts’ sender, and she could lead them to meet it. Farwalking she knew, understood, and was good at—unlike holding hands with a boy or having to tell him good-bye.

  Nearly everyone in Skunk came by that afternoon or evening to wish Ariel and Scarl a good journey. Several brought gifts. Others asked the Farwalker to carry messages or small items to trade. Nowhere among the visitors did Ariel spot Nace. Kept busy, she slipped away only briefly to check for him at the tree swing. It hung silent and still. He wasn’t tending their horse, either.

  “I haven’t seen him since this morning,” said Lamala when Ariel plucked up the nerve to ask. “He’s like that. Disappear
s for long stretches. I don’t worry.”

  Ariel considered a return to the foxes’ clearing. The possibility of meeting him there alone made her feel too weak.

  As night fell, Sienna’s voice rose up the ladder. “Hail above.” She ascended partway. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No,” Ariel replied, eager for distraction. “Oh! Did you bring my hair clips?”

  But Sienna stepped up empty-handed. Ariel held her breath, afraid Sienna might have goofed and ruined the glass.

  “They’re perfect, just wait till you see them,” the Flame-Mage told her. “But they have to cool slowly. I’ll get them for you right before we leave.”

  She peppered Ariel with questions about what to pack. By the time Sienna left to prepare, Ariel wondered how much sleep the young woman would get.

  Ariel neglected her own bed until late, too, in the hope that one more visitor might still appear. At last, though, stuck between disappointment and relief, she tossed another pebble for Zeke and dropped to her blanket to untie her boots. Sleep overcame her as irresistibly as her laughing fits had. She never twitched when Scarl finally pried off her second boot and tucked her blanket around her.

  If she could, she would have invited Nace into her dreams, but it was Scarl who appeared there. He was crouched in the lane outside her mother’s cottage, and distantly Ariel knew it was being at home, not Scarl’s presence there, that was wrong. His Finder’s glass glinted in his palm. Wondering what he was seeking, she came up behind him and peeked over his shoulder.

  Like amber could trap insects, the glass in his palm held a flickering, crimson flame.

  “Oh!”

  At Ariel’s noise, the fire leaped beyond the bounds of the glass. She and Scarl both flinched. To trap it, the Finder clenched his fingers so hard the glass crunched and blood or liquid flame oozed from his fist. He spun toward Ariel. She cringed, expecting his anger.