by P. C. Cast
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s easier to show you than tell you.” Mari followed another bend in the bramble maze and lifted aside a branch that looked like a thorned wall. She stepped out of the thicket into a low, scrubby dip in the land.
Sora swatted at a huge mosquito, grimacing at the spot of blood it left on her arm. “I don’t see any stream. Just mosquitoes and a lot of mud and weeds in a grove of weird maple trees.”
“That’s all you’re supposed to see. And the weeds aren’t just weeds—same as the weird maples aren’t trees. Look closer.”
Sora sighed, but did as Mari told her. “Ugh! Those low vines that are everywhere are poison oak. And those bushes are stinging nettles. I’ve never seen them so big!” She squinted, studying the closest of the odd-looking plants with disproportionately large maple-shaped leaves. Then she cringed back with a grimace. “Sweet Mother Goddess, those aren’t trees! They’re devil’s club! Touch their stalks or step on their shoots and you’ll be covered in spiny thorns. This place is awful. I don’t see a stream and I don’t want to walk through that. Can’t we go another way?”
“Your reaction is perfect. It’s exactly why Mama and I have nurtured this particular thicket for as long as I can remember. Transplanting the devil’s club was the hardest of everything, but this grove of them stops anyone from exploring this area. The stream runs just a little west of here, and the poison oak and nettles flourish all along it. There’s only one safe way through all of this, so stay close.”
“We have to go through this every time we go to the stream?”
“It’s easy once you know the path. When you see the stream and the bathing pool you’ll understand that it’s worth it.”
Mari picked her way easily around the devil’s club, nettle bushes, and past—without touching—the mounds of poison oak, heading down to a wide, shallow stream. Its waters were swollen with spring rains, but clear and sparkling in the early-morning sunlight. Mari stepped into the stream, wincing a little as the cold water lapped around her calves.
“How are we going to bathe in this? It’s way too shallow,” Sora said.
“This isn’t where we bathe, or at least not when we want to take a proper bath. This is mainly where we fill our water buckets. The pool is up there.” Mari pointed. “It’s fastest and safest to walk in the stream to it. That way you avoid all of that.” Mari gestured to the spread of poisonous ivy and nettles that crowded each bank of the stream. “When you find the site for your own burrow you’ll have to transplant some of these there, as well as the bramble and the devil’s club, of course.”
“How am I supposed to do that without sticking or poisoning myself?”
“You use gloves, common sense, and the power of the moon,” Mari said, sounding eerily like her mother. “Come on. It’s not far.”
They didn’t see sign of any living being except for lots of squawking jays and several gray squirrels who barked at Rigel and then disappeared into the trees.
“We’ll have to check the snares later today. We’re running low on meat,” Mari said.
“I’m just glad I don’t have to wade through another nettle patch to get to them,” Sora said, scratching her leg and wincing. “I got too close to one of those bushes.”
Mari was about to tell her that she’d get used to picking her way successfully through them when the sound of a waterfall carried to them. She picked up the pace, and soon they were standing below a triple waterfall and the clear, round pool into which it fed. Rigel ran to the pool, lapped up some of the sparkling water, and then he stretched out on a sun-kissed rock, sighed contentedly, and closed his eyes.
“Isn’t he supposed to be on guard?” Sora asked.
“He can guard with his eyes closed. Try grabbing me, and see what he does,” Mari said.
“Never mind, I’ll take your word for it.” Sora studied the cascading water and the waiting pool. “This is incredible. I had no idea it was here,” she said.
“That’s because up there our nice little stream is a frothing mess that cuts between a rocky gorge. It’s almost impossible to reach the water for quite a ways because the sides of the gorge are so slick. A dam was formed, probably from a rock slide ages ago, and that’s what made the series of waterfalls tame enough to form the pool and the spill-off that’s our little stream. It can get crazy if it rains too much, especially in the spring, but the dam has always held, and even if it didn’t the water would just flood the nettles and ivy, and once it receded again everything would grow right back.” Mari trudged through the stream, heading to the lowest part of the pool. On a wide, flat rock she laid out her clean clothes and the soaproot bulb. “Bring the dirty clothes up here. We can soak them while we wash. It’ll make it easier to get them clean, and if the morning stays nice we can dry them in no time on these rocks.”
Sora joined her, following her lead as she dunked the dirty clothes in the shallow part of the pool. Then Mari pulled the little paring knife from her pack and handed it to Sora.
“I want you to cut my hair,” she said.
Sora gave her a quizzical look. “Are you sure?”
“Look at it. It’s disgusting. I want it off.”
“How short?”
Mari thought for a moment, then she lifted her hand, placing it against her neck just below her jawline. “Here. Cut it to here.”
“That’s pretty short,” Sora said.
“It’ll grow. And this time it won’t be matted with dye and dirt. Just do it,” Mari said.
Sora shrugged. “Okay, it’s your hair. Your really, really dirty hair.” She made a face as she lifted the mass of it, held it like a tail, and started sawing through it.
Mari closed her eyes and ignored the pulling pain. When Sora was done Mari’s hands went automatically to her hair. Her head felt light and strange, like she wasn’t quite herself.
“I got it pretty even. It was actually easy to cut once I got rid of that matted mess. Go wash it. I want to see what it really looks like,” Sora said.
Mari stood, stripped, tossed her dirty clothes in the soaking pile with the rest of them. Then she cut the soaproot and, taking a generous piece with her, headed out into the deep part of the pool.
She felt Sora’s eyes on her back, but she didn’t turn to face her until she could sit on the bottom of the pool and submerge up to her shoulders. Sora was still standing beside the pool.
“You’re staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable,” Mari said.
Sora blinked and Mari saw her cheeks flush pink before she turned away. “Sorry. It’s just that your skin under your clothes is a different color.”
“I already told you that,” Mari said.
“Well, telling and seeing are different things. Plus, the sunlight is hitting you and those weird glowy patterns are showing.”
Mari looked down at herself, seeing the delicate filigree patterns of the frond of the Mother Plant lift from deep under her skin. She held out her arm, marveling at the miracle that lived within her.
“Does it hurt?” Sora asked in a hushed voice.
“No, not at all.” She looked from her arm to Sora. “I’ve never talked about it before, not even to Mama.”
“Why not?”
“It made Mama nervous. She was always afraid someone would see me. I—I think she wanted to forget this part of me,” Mari said, blinking against tears that had begun to pool in her eyes.
“Hey, Leda wasn’t denying who you are,” Sora said. “She was just keeping you safe.”
Mari smiled tentatively at her. “Yeah, that’s right. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Any time, teacher.”
Mari dunked under the water and came up sputtering and scrubbing with the sticky, frothy root. She closed her eyes and rubbed a big hunk of it between her hands, and then she washed her face—over and over. She worked from her face to her arms and hands, scrubbing off the layers of clay and dirt that had been concealing the true color of her skin. Lastly, Mari attacked her hair. She di
dn’t count how many times she soaped it up, rinsed it, and repeated, but she didn’t stop until it squeaked between her fingers and there were no more snarls in it. Shivering, she waded from the pool, heading to Rigel’s sunny rock to dry.
Sora hadn’t taken so long to wash herself, and was already dried and dressed, sitting comfortably on another wide, warm rock.
Mari didn’t look at her until she was seated beside Rigel. She wasn’t modest—that was foolish. As Leda had taught her—a naked body was nothing to be ashamed of. It was a gift from the Great Goddess, and whether short or tall, fat or thin, all bodies had merit. Mari waited to look at Sora because she couldn’t guess what her reaction would be. No one except Leda had seen Mari bare skinned and clean haired. Ever. So she sat in the sun, soaking up the warmth of the light, feeling equal parts of excitement and nervousness.
“You’re glowing again,” Sora said. “And I’m not staring, but it’s hard not to notice it.”
Mari studied herself. Her naked skin was still pink from the scrubbing she’d just given it, but the flush was overshadowed by the golden glow that spread in a frondlike pattern all across her body. She looked up and met Sora’s gaze.
“Your eyes are different, too. They’re shining really bright and are the color of the sun in summer. Your creature’s eyes are doing the same thing. I don’t mean to offend you, but it’s strange,” Sora said. She paused and then added. “But your hair is nice. The color of wheat and curly. And your face is different, definitely not like someone from the Clan, but I will say I think you look a lot better clean.”
“Thanks,” Mari said. She ran her fingers through her hair, loving the soft bounciness of it. “It feels good.”
“What’s it feel like when the sun shines on you like that?” Sora asked slowly.
“Warm,” Mari said. “Nice. It makes me feel like I could run all the way to the ocean and back without even breathing hard.” Mari started to think about the fire that had coursed through her and set the forest ablaze, but her mind skittered away from that image. She couldn’t think about that now. She’d think about that later—after she was more used to her new self.
“Maybe you can do that. Who knows what Companions can do?”
“I’m not a Companion,” Mari said.
“Well, you sure don’t look like an Earth Walker anymore.”
Mari bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say—she didn’t know who, or what, she was becoming. Mari dressed silently, wishing she had answers to the questions that flooded her mind.
As the sun climbed in the clear sky, she and Sora got to work washing the clothes and laying them out on the sun-drenched rocks that surrounded the pool. When they’d finally finished, Sora yawned hugely, and Mari was just going to suggest they nap while they waited for the clothes to dry when Rigel, who had been napping lazily all morning, suddenly bounded over to her. He was whining and yipping as he paced restlessly back and forth, back and forth. Mari didn’t need their bond to know that something had the young canine seriously agitated.
“What is it? Are there males coming? Or Companions? What?” Sora was scanning the forest around them, looking as if she was ready to sprint back to the burrow.
“It’s not danger. He’s not warning me. He’s anxious, like it’s hard for him to sit still.”
Sora snorted and relaxed a little. “Well, maybe that’s because he slept the morning away. I think he’s actually a little lazy.”
“He’s young. Young canines sleep a lot,” Mari said, though she had no idea whether it was true or not. Mari crouched in front of her pup. “What’s wrong? What’s bothering you?”
Rigel barked twice and sprinted several feet away, as if he was heading up the rocky climb to the top of the waterfall. He stopped there, looked back at Mari, whining pitifully.
“Looks like he wants you to go with him. Does he do this a lot?”
“No. I usually understand exactly what he’s trying to tell me.” Mari walked to Rigel, but the pup sprinted off again, this time actually climbing partway up the steep bank. There he stopped again, and barked at her. “All right, I’ll follow you.” Mari turned to Sora. “You can stay here, but I’d better see what he’s trying to show me.”
“I’m not staying here by myself. If I lose you there’s no way I’ll find that path back through those poison, sticking things—not to mention back to the burrow. Nope, where you go—I go.”
“All right, well, the clothes need to dry anyway.” Mari made an encouraging motion to Rigel. “Go on! I’ll follow you.”
Rigel scampered up the rocks easily. When he reached the top he stood near the edge, looking down at Mari and barking encouragement.
“Sssh! Not so much noise!” Mari told him, and the pup instantly stopped barking, though he did keep up a steady, plaintive whine.
“This better be good. Climbing up here is no easy thing,” Sora said, panting behind Mari.
“He’s never done this before. I don’t know what he could want to show me,” Mari said. Then, with a groan, she hefted herself over the top edge of the ridge. Offering Sora a hand, she helped her up.
They’d only taken a few breaths when Rigel dashed off again, whining and looking back at them. The girls followed, which set up a tedious pattern. The pup would wait for them to catch up with him, and almost catch their breaths, then he’d rush off, leaving them to come after him.
“How far do you think he’s going to go?” Sora wiped sweat from her face and lifted her thick hair to fan her neck.
“I can’t tell,” Mari said, picking her way around rocks, careful to stay clear of the edge of the gorge and its slick sides. “But I can feel that his anxiousness is getting worse. I hope that means we’re almost to whatever it is he wanted me to see.”
“I hope so, too,” Sora said. “At least the bank isn’t so terrifying here. It’s more like Crawfish Creek, except the current is wilder.”
“Yeah, it’s not hard to get down to the water along here. This is where Mama and I come to see what’s washed up from the city.”
“The city? Is that where this stream comes from?” Sora said.
“Yeah, this is one of the rapids that broke from the river that flows through it.”
“You and Leda followed this to the city?”
“No! Mama never let me anywhere near that awful place. We only know it comes from there because things have washed downriver to us that had to come from the city—things like the iron cauldron we make the stew in. Mama and I found that a few winters ago, not far from here. And one time we—”
A flurry of barking cut off Mari’s words. Rigel was out of sight, and she sprinted to catch up with him. When she got to the young pup he’d made his way down to the water and was barking riotously at a clump of debris that had gotten snagged on the skeleton of a felled tree.
“Rigel, shush! You’re making too much noise, and I’m right here. What did you want to show me?”
The young canine shifted his body, giving Mari a better view of the pile of debris, and her breath caught in her throat. Snagged with the logs and vines and the usual spring run-off river junk was the body of a man.
“Tits of the Mother! It’s a Companion!” Sora gasped from behind Mari.
Mari stepped closer, staring at the man’s face. With a sick start, she recognized him. It was Nik! The Companion who had been tracking Rigel.
“He’s dead,” Sora said. “We should get his knife. See, there? It’s belted to his waist. And let’s look around. Maybe we can find something else that floated here with him.”
Mari nodded. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do this.” It seemed grisly, but she had to agree with Sora. Wasn’t that why Rigel led them to this body? Knives were precious, especially as this one looked to be an actual metal knife. His leather belt was worth taking, too. She glanced at his feet. Mari wouldn’t strip him—she couldn’t make herself do that—but she could take his boots. Mari steeled herself, ignoring the queasy feeling in her stomach, and bent for the knife, which was when
Nik coughed, and with a pain-filled groan puked water down his shirt.
“Great Mother Goddess, he’s alive!” Sora said, and then she fainted.
32
When the Companion vomited river water all down his shirt, Mari scrambled back, slipping on rocks to get away from him. He didn’t open his eyes, though. He just lay there in a broken heap, breathing in short, shallow pants and trembling.
From the corner of her eyes Mari saw Sora stir. “Are you okay?” she asked, not taking her focus off the man.
Sora sat, rubbing her elbow. “What happened?”
“You fainted.”
“I fainted?” Then her eyes flicked to the flotsam pile and the man and they widened. “Oh, Goddess. I didn’t dream it. It’s real and it’s alive.”
Rigel padded up to the Companion, whining softly.
“Rigel! Stay back!” Mari said, moving forward to grab the pup and pull him back.
The Companion opened his eyes. Mari watched him blink several times, as if he was having trouble focusing his vision, then he saw Rigel and his lips tilted up. “I found you.” His voice was weak and it sounded as if he was speaking through gravel. He lifted his hand, reaching for Rigel. Pain flashed across his face, which blanched so white that it made his lips look blue. He squeezed his eyes closed and breathed in short, panting gasps. Rigel sat, looking back and forth between the Companion and Mari with a plaintive expression in his intelligent eyes.
“Kill him.” Sora was standing beside Mari, staring at the wounded man with ferocious disgust. “He’s hurt. He can’t stop you. Take his knife and slit his throat.”
“I can’t do that,” Mari said.
“Then I’ll kill him.” Sora started forward, but Mari snagged her wrist.
“No, wait.”
Sora stopped and cocked her head, studying Mari. “It’s crueler to leave him here to suffer. Come sunset the roaches will find him. They’ll eat him alive. It’s a mercy to end him before they get him.”
Mari moved past Sora and approached the man. Rigel was sitting beside him. She patted his head and murmured softly to her pup, not liking the anxiety that radiated from him. She studied his face. Yes, she was sure it was the Companion named Nik—the one who had been searching for Rigel. While his eyes were closed she reached out and took his knife. Slipping in and out of consciousness, he made no response.