by P. C. Cast
“They would be like me if they were free again!” The words seemed to explode from Mari’s mouth. “We can’t be caged. It kills us. Your people kill us. Why would our men not attack you on sight? They’re protecting us, just like Xander did Jenna when your group captured her. You killed him for it, and he was her father.”
“I—I know.” Nik couldn’t continue to meet Mari’s eyes. “I was with her that night. She’s like you. She actually talked with me.”
Mari rounded on him. “Have you seen Jenna since you captured her?”
“No. My job isn’t to tend the Farm or the Scratchers, ur, I mean Earth Walkers. I’m really a Carver. I—”
“Go see Jenna after I get done saving your life and return you to your Tribe. I promise you she’ll be depressed and seem vacant in her mind. She’s a slave, and it will end up killing her just as surely as you killed her father. Do you know how old she is?”
“No, I don’t.”
“She’s only known sixteen winters. Sixteen,” Mari said.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” Nik said.
“Being sorry won’t save Jenna from dying from despair. Being sorry won’t bring Jenna’s father back. It’s my turn to ask the questions now. What were you doing in our territory?”
“I wasn’t wounded in your territory. I was part of a foraging team to Port City. We were ambushed by Skin Stealers. I don’t know if any of the others made it back to the Tribe. I was caught in a run-off after taking a spear.” Nik paused as images of Crystal and Grace flashed through his memory.
“Not then. Before, when you were with the Hunters. The night you captured Jenna and the next day when Mama died. Why were you in our territory then?”
“I was tracking Rigel.” At the sound of his name, the young canine’s ears pricked up and he cocked his head, listening to Nik. Nik mentally shook himself, pushing aside thoughts of those who had been lost during the ambush. Later—he’d deal with all of that later—if this girl actually let him return to the Tribe. If he actually lived.
“That’s what I thought,” Mari said.
“You covered your tracks—his and yours—trying to throw us off your trail. Didn’t you?” Nik asked.
“Yes, Mama and I covered Rigel’s tracks and ours. That’s why we went back to the creek that day.”
There was an awkward silence as the realization hovered between them that because he had been tracking the pup, Mari had lost her mother. Feeling miserably guilty, Nik tried to change the subject. “Rigel looks good—really good.”
That had Mari’s expression changing, almost warming. “Do you really think so? I never know for sure how much or what to feed him. And his fur—it’s so thick and it gets everywhere. I worry that I’m doing something wrong because it’s started to shed off him in hunks.”
Nik chuckled, and then had to grit his teeth against a stabbing pain in his back. Sweat broke out over his body, and he thought he might be sick. Mari was beside him in a moment, lifting the mug of drugged tea to his lips. He shook his head.
“Not yet. There—there are more questions. I’m okay. It hurts, but it’s nice to actually be able to think.” He hesitated, and then added. “Could I maybe have something to eat?”
“I’ll heat up some broth for you, but you need to drink the tea soon. If you don’t stay ahead of the pain you’re going to regret it,” Mari said.
Nik nodded. “Just a little while more.”
She went back to the hearth, and changed out the boiling pot for a small skillet that was black with age. As she stirred it, the mouthwatering scents of meat and garlic and onions drifted to him, making Nik swallow thickly and try to sit up a little straighter.
“The shedding is normal, especially around the change in seasons. You’re not doing anything wrong. We use small fishbone combs to groom the Shepherds, and they need to be groomed daily. What are you feeding him?”
“Rabbit mostly.”
“Feed it to him raw, that’s what’s best for a canine. Add any raw eggs you can find, shell and all, as well as leafy greens. Add apples, carrots, and celery when you can. And don’t feed him as much as he’ll eat. Some of the big Shepherds will eat themselves to death if you let them, and he’s from a long line of very big Shepherds who are very big eaters.” Nik grinned at the pup, who was splitting his attention between Mari and him. “The general rule of canine health is that you should see the indentation of his ribs, but not each rib individually. Rigel’s looking in good flesh—not over or under fed.”
“You know his mother and father?”
“Of course! His mother is Jasmine. She’s almost completely black and is as big as many male Shepherds. His father is Laru. I know Laru very well.”
“Is Laru big, too?”
Nik’s grin grew. “He’s the biggest Shepherd in the Tribe. His Companion is my father.”
“Your father! So that’s why you kept tracking Rigel.”
Nik opened his mouth and then closed it, not sure what, or how much he should say to this strange girl. When he looked at her again, Nik saw that Mari had quit stirring the broth and was watching him carefully.
“That’s not why I kept tracking Rigel,” Nik heard himself admitting. “I wouldn’t stop tracking him because…” He trailed off, unable to admit the embarrassing truth.
“You don’t have a canine, do you?”
“No. I don’t,” Nik said.
Mari’s brows shot up. “Oh! You wanted Rigel to choose you.”
Nik hesitated, and then blurted, “Yes, I did. It was my fault he got away that night. Almost everyone in the Tribe thought I was crazy for believing he could live through the bloody beetles and the roach swarm, but I never gave up on him.”
“He was hurt badly when he showed up here,” Mari said.
Nik blinked in surprise. “So, he did track you all the way to your home?”
“He did.” She caressed the young canine as his tail thumped against the floor of the burrow. “And then Mama and I healed him.”
“Has your family always been Healers?” Nik was asking as the door to the burrow opened and the other young woman rushed inside.
“Don’t tell him anything about us,” she snapped, sending him a glare. “Mari, I did it! The fern is alive!”
Mari’s face split into a wide grin that made her gray eyes sparkle and two little dimples appear in her cheeks. “That’s awesome! And now you’re ready for the next step.”
“People?”
Mari nodded. “People.”
“Sora, I’d like to thank you, too.” Nik said. “For saving me.”
The Scratcher sent him a dark look. “I didn’t save you. Mari saved you. I was just helping her.” She turned to Mari. “Let me know when he passes out again and I’ll come out and have dinner with you.” Then she disappeared into the back of the burrow.
Into another awkward silence Nik said, “Yes, I remembered correctly. That one wanted to kill me. Are you sisters?”
“Like I told you before, that one’s name is Sora. No, we’re not sisters.” After a pause Mari added. “We’re friends.”
“She doesn’t seem very friendly.”
“Actually, she’s a lot friendlier than me. She just doesn’t trust you.” Mari poured the broth from the skillet into a small wooden bowl and brought it to him.
“Thank you,” he said, then all of his attention went to sipping the delicious liquid and the warmth it spread throughout his battered body. It seemed as if the broth was gone in no time, and Nik leaned back carefully, feeling full and exhausted.
“Now this.” Mari handed him the cooled tea, which he finally took, gulping the bitter mixture quickly. “Okay, before you fall asleep again I need to change your bandages.”
Grunting, Nik rolled a little on his side, giving Mari access to his back. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself for more pain, but her touch was amazingly gentle and he felt little except a tug on the skin around the bandage.
“No, no, no. That’s not supposed to be happening.”
“What?” Nik tried to twist his head around, but a sharp look from Mari had him holding still and asking into the pillow. “What’s not supposed to be happening?”
“It was healing well—really well. No sign of infection except for your fever, which broke earlier today. But now the flesh around the wound is discolored, dusky even, like it’s dirty. But it couldn’t be. And there are small, raised black spots that look like scabs attached to the wound.”
“Does it have a scent?” Nik’s stomach felt hollow. Sweat had begun to bead his face.
He felt Mari lean down. She sniffed at the wound, and then he heard her gag. She turned away from him, but he craned his head around and saw her wiping her mouth and shaking her head. More to herself than to him she was muttering, “The flesh appears to be rotting. It has a rancid scent.” She placed the bandage back on the wound and said, “Let me see your leg.”
Without saying anything, Nik rolled carefully over, giving her access to the wound on his leg.
When she lifted the bandage he smelled it—the sickening familiar scent of blight and death. He lay back and closed his eyes, trying to calm the panic and fear that threatened to choke him.
“I just don’t understand.” Mari bent over the wound. “I see ulcerations appearing on this one, as well as the discoloration of the flesh and the foul scent. It makes no sense. I changed the bandages yesterday and there was absolutely no sign of this.”
“It’s not your fault.” Nik felt as dead as his voice sounded. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this will kill me, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s called the blight, and it has been cursing the Tribe for many winters now, and taking more and more lives with each passing season.” Nik met Mari’s gaze. “Would you help me get home? I want to see my father before I die.”
Mari put both hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed stubbornly. “I’m not taking you anywhere until you tell me exactly what the blight is and how you caught it.”
“The only thing we know for sure about the blight is that it’s a type of fungus. It can infect us when our skin has been broken.”
Mari’s eyes widened. “Anytime you get a scratch you can catch it?”
Nik nodded wearily. “Yes, there’s a possibility of catching it whenever our skin is broken, but the truth is the deeper the wound, the better chance of catching the blight.” Now that the first shock had passed he felt tired and sad and sick, and he just wanted to crawl inside another mug of Mari’s sleeping potion and sleep forever.
“Your Tribe is dying?”
Nik looked at Mari. She didn’t seem to be gloating. She also didn’t seem to be upset. She only seemed curious.
“Actually, the Tribe is growing, but the blight is getting worse. It used to infect only the very young or very old. And it used to infect only about a third of everyone who was injured. That’s been changing, though. More people get the blight. My mother died of it just after my tenth winter.”
“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose your mother,” Mari said.
“Thank you. Will you help me get back to the Tribe before this kills me? I don’t have long. Once it starts to stink and ulcerate it’s in the blood. It’ll take over my body soon. If I’m lucky the spear wound is close enough to my heart that it’ll kill me fast.”
“Nik, I haven’t given up on healing you,” Mari said.
“I appreciate that, Mari. Truly I do. But you don’t understand. Our Healers have been trying to cure the blight for generations. They can’t even slow it down. It’s why we started capturing your people and making them tend our crops. Too many of the Tribe were dying of blight after small injuries in the fields.”
Mari stared at him as if he had just sprouted a tail and begun to bark at her.
“You enslave us because your Healers can’t figure out how to cure a disease?”
“Well, yes. Or mostly yes. That’s why we started taking, ur, Earth Walkers captive. And then once they became our captives it was obvious that they were unable to care for themselves.”
“Only because we die if we’re enslaved!”
“We—we didn’t know that. None of us knew that.” Nik didn’t add that today he wasn’t so sure that was the only reason for keeping them slaves. He thought about Thaddeus and Claudia and even Wilkes, and couldn’t imagine them plowing and planting, weeding and harvesting.
“That’s just ridiculous, and it’s going to end now. No wonder Rigel led me to you. Nik, I’m going to change your world,” Mari said. Then she strode to the closed curtain that sectioned off the back rooms of the burrow, pulled it aside, and called, “Sora! Don’t get comfortable in there. We have work to do.”
36
“I’m really sssssleepy!” Nik’s shout was slurred.
Mari and Sora exchanged a look. From the medical pantry, Mari called, “Good. Being sleepy is good. Just don’t fall asleep. Yet.”
“Not ssssure I’m in control of that,” he shouted again.
Mari went to the doorway to the front room of the burrow and stuck her head through the curtain. “Nik, I’m right here. You don’t have to yell. I told you that I’m going through Mama’s journal to find a way to cure you. And you need to stay awake.”
“But I want to sssssleep.”
Mari rolled her eyes. “You can sleep afterward.” She glanced behind her where the young canine was sitting, as usual staying close to her side. “Rigel, go to Nik.” As the pup padded to his pallet, Mari said, “Pet Rigel. Or talk to him. Or whatever. Just stay awake.”
“Okay!” he said, and then he saluted her.
Mari rolled her eyes again and disappeared behind the curtain. She hurried back to her mama’s chest where she and Sora had been sitting as she searched through Leda’s medical journal hunting for cures for anything that sounded remotely like Nik’s blight.
“Why don’t you let him sleep? He makes too much noise when he’s awake,” Sora said.
Mari looked up from the page she was reading. “Can you carry him?”
Sora snorted. “Of course not. We already tried that and I failed miserably. Plus, my arms and legs are just now starting to feel normal again instead of screaming with soreness.”
“Your pain tolerance is low,” Mari said.
“I know that, but I don’t see it as a bad thing. Really, Mari, who wants to be in pain?”
“Sora, sometimes you do make a good point or two.”
“Thank you!” she grinned.
“Can we get back to healing Nik now, please?” Mari said.
“Okay, but I still don’t understand why you’re so adamant about it. I don’t mean to sound inhumane, but even he says he’s dying. Why not ask him all of your questions, and then give him something to stop his pain long enough for him to return to die with his Tribe?”
“The excuse his Tribe uses for capturing Clanswomen is because they have the blight and can’t tend their own crops. I’m going to cure the blight, so they have no excuse to enslave us.”
“I guess I’m not as optimistic as you about the Tribe suddenly setting our people free.”
“I think this might be it!” Mari jumped up and sprinted into the other room. “Nik! Open your eyes.”
He blinked blearily at her. “Are they open?”
“Yes, now they are. Okay, listen to this.” She read from the journal entry, “Callie had a terrible fungal infection. It reminded me of tree blight, which is why I’m making a special note of it here. Small black spores were attached to what was a cleanly healing wound. Then the flesh began to turn a dusky color, ulcerations appeared, along with a rancid scent.” Mari looked up from the journal. “Does this describe what happens with the blight?”
Nik grinned at her and nodded. “Yes indeedy it does. So, Scratchers—oops, I mean Earth Walkers—they get it, too?”
“Got it. Past tense,” Mari said smugly. “My mother cured it, just like I’m going to cure it. I’
ll be back.”
Mari hurried back to Sora. “This is it!”
“I heard. What else does it say?”
“Mama writes:
“I tried several poultices, to no avail. Finally, I remembered a strong remedy my mother had used on a dire fungal infection. I tried it, and the infection was cured, though not without the power of the moon, and the grace of our benevolent Earth Mother. Poultice is as follows: Muddle a fresh indigo root with boiling water. Mix with warmed honey and apply sparingly to the wound. Healing is quick, but NOTE—take care! Large doses are toxic, inducing nausea, diarrhea, heart palpitations, paralysis of breathing, and death. One poultice was enough to cure the disease. I’m very much afraid more than one application would be toxic.”
“Sounds simple. Do you know what an indigo root is?” Sora asked.
“Of course. I use it for dye. It’s the plant with the beautiful blue flower that grows by streams. After it’s done flowering it makes blue pods that rattle in the wind.”
“Oh, I know what flower you’re talking about!”
“Good. Go pull some up and bring me the roots.”
Sora frowned. “You didn’t answer my question about why he can’t be asleep for this. What does carrying him have to do with making that poultice?”
“Mama wrote that her patient was cured with the power of the moon.”
Sora’s mouth fell open. “No. You cannot mean to draw down the moon for him.”
“I absolutely do, and you’re going to help me. It’s your next step, remember? You healed the fern,” Mari said.
“But he can’t know that we’re Moon Women!” Sora’s whisper was more of a hiss.
“And that’s why I’m going to brew another potion just like the one I gave him before we pulled out that spear, only I don’t want him to pass out until he’s walked himself outside and up to the clearing.”
Sora’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “So, you’re going to have him walk outside—give him the potion—he’ll pass out—and then we’ll draw down the moon and heal him. Then what?”
