by P. C. Cast
Mari sipped her tea, considering.
Nik moaned, and Mari was on her feet instantly. “Sora, strain that mixture I’ve been brewing and bring it to me as soon as it’s cooled down enough to drink.” She went to Nik’s bedside and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Nik, you have to try to be as still as possible. The spearhead is out, and I’ve sewed up your wounds, but you could break them open and restart the bleeding if you move too much.”
He turned his head and his bleary eyes met hers. “Hurts like a fire in my back.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Sora hurried to her, handing her the wooden mug of pungent-smelling tea. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Sora had to help Mari lift Nik, and he choked, coughing and sputtering, but he drank the entire mug. Then he collapsed back, moaning with pain.
“Thirsty,” Nik said weakly.
“I’ll refill this with water.” Sora took the mug and went to the drinking bucket, returning in a moment and handing it to Mari. Again, they held Nik so that he could drink. Afterward, they settled him as comfortably as possible.
Mari watched the herbs begin to take affect as the tension in his body relaxed. Just before his breathing deepened into sleep, Nik’s hand reached down to find Rigel. With a sigh of contentment, he fell asleep touching the pup.
“Does that bother you?” Sora spoke softly as she poured the fragrant chamomile and lavender tea she’d been brewing for them, and sat with her feet curled comfortably beneath her in what was becoming her usual place beside the hearth.
“Does what bother me?”
“That he’s obviously obsessed with your creature.”
“You know, you could call him Rigel. It is his name,” Mari said.
“I could, but Creature is growing on me.” Rigel pricked his ears at Sora, and the girl grinned. “I think it’s growing on him, too.”
“How do you know that’s not his I want to eat her look?” Mari teased.
“Because he didn’t show me those horrible teeth of his. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Rigel and I are bonded for life. Nothing and no one can change that. I know that much from what my father told Mama, and Mama told me. The rest I know from here.” Mari touched her chest, just over her heart. “And here.” She moved her hand from her heart to her head. “So, I’m not bothered as in jealous. I’m bothered because of the obsession itself.”
“I knew we should have killed him.”
“You may be right,” Mari said.
“What? Did you actually admit I’m right?”
“Don’t get all excited. It’s just this once that you might be right,” Mari teased, smiling so that her words held no sting before she continued. “The truth is we won’t know if we made a colossal mistake in saving him until after he’s healed and gone.”
“Are you sorry we didn’t kill him?”
Mari considered before she answered. Finally deciding, “No. I’m not sorry about that. Sora, I’ve watched Companions kill our people with less thought than I give to gutting a rabbit. Even if my choice to save Nik was wrong, what wasn’t wrong was to value life more than they do.”
“If we act like them, we’re no better than them,” Sora said slowly. “I agree with you in theory, I just hope you’re right in practice. Our Clan can’t take much more.”
Mari sighed. “I miss Jenna.”
“I know you two were close.”
Mari nodded. “I saw them take her. Sora, Nik was part of that hunting group, which has me thinking…”
Sora’s brows shot up, and when Mari didn’t continue, she prodded, “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking one favor should lead to another.”
35
Had it not been for the fire in his back, Nik would have been sure he was dead and had been sentenced to a particularly bizarre level of hell. From the moment he’d regained consciousness after the river vomited him from the rapids onto the pile of flotsam, his world had become a decidedly strange place.
At first it seemed too dreamlike to be true. The pup found him! Along with a Scratcher female who wanted to kill him, and the pup—his name was Rigel—Rigel’s Companion, a girl named Mari.
Mari was also too dreamlike to be true. At first glance she looked like she could belong to the Tribe. She was tall and slender. Her sun-colored hair was cut short so that it curled, childlike, around her face. But it was her face that gave her away. Her features weren’t all Tribe-like. She did have the fine, high cheekbones and full, bow-shaped lips of the Tribe, but her eyes were wrong. They were bigger and almost almond-shaped. And the color was all wrong. Instead of any of the varying shades of green that marked a member of the Tribe, they were a gray so bright and clear that they were almost silver.
Her eyes reminded him of something, but that something kept skittering away from Nik’s pain-fogged mind.
Though Nik drifted in and out of consciousness while the two women transported him from the river to their home, he was aware of the tension between them—and of the fact that Mari was definitely in charge.
After they reached their home, which they called a burrow, Nik’s memory faltered like a half-remembered childhood incident where you’re not really sure if you actually experienced the incident, or if you just “remembered” it because of being told the story over and over again.
It couldn’t be possible that Scratchers had saved him.
It couldn’t be possible that they had carried him on a litter to the neat, attractive little burrow they called home, removed the spearhead from his back, and tended to all of his wounds.
It couldn’t be possible, and yet there he was, finally fully awake on a comfortable pallet in an underground burrow with the half-grown Shepherd pup he’d spent weeks searching for lying within his reach, and that pup’s Companion, who was also a Scratcher, dozing by the homey warmth of a hearth fire.
“And yet here I am,” Nik whispered to himself.
The pup lifted his head to look at him. Nik smiled and stroked his soft fur, not caring that the movement sent shards of pain through his back.
“Are you really awake?”
Nik looked from the pup to the girl. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and stretched before she poked the fire into life and ladled more water into a pot to boil.
“Yes, I think I am. Unless you tell me I’m dreaming,” Nik said.
“You’re not dreaming. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling confused,” Nik said honestly.
She cocked her head as she studied at him. Her eyes seemed to smile, but her expression remained serious. “Confused isn’t bad. I’d expected you to say something more like ‘I’m in agony,’ or ask me if you’re dead for about the hundredth time.”
“Well, my back hurts. So do my leg and my head. But my confusion is bigger than my hurts. Um, I have you to thank for that.”
“For being confused?”
“Yes and no. You are the reason I’m confused, but I have to thank you for helping me,” Nik said.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
“Is your name really Mari?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. But remembering yesterday is a little like trying to recall a dream. Well, a nightmare if I’m going to be completely honest,” Nik said.
“Yesterday?”
“Yeah, when you pulled me out of the run-off and brought me here.”
She poured the steaming water into a stone bowl and swirled it around before saying, “The yesterday you’re remembering happened five yesterdays ago.”
Nik felt a sizzle of shock. “I’ve been here five days?”
“Actually, you’re heading into day seven. Dawn isn’t too far away,” she said.
“I don’t feel like I’ve been unconscious for almost seven days,” he said.
“You haven’t been—not completely. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, mostly because you had a fever. But that’s broken now. You did a lot of talking about someone named O’Br
yan.”
“He’s my cousin and my best friend,” Nik said.
“Your fever self was worried about him.”
“My awake self is worried about him, too. He was wounded not long ago.”
“You were talking to your father, too.”
“What did I say?” Nik asked, feeling strangely violated and curious at the same time.
She shrugged. “It was pretty difficult to understand you, but I could make out the words father and O’Bryan.”
“Father probably thinks I’m dead.” Nik spoke more to himself than to her.
“You’re healing well. I’m especially pleased that you’re fully conscious. Finally. You’ll be back with your father soon.” She lifted the stone bowl and poured the steaming mixture within through a delicate cloth and into a large wooden mug. Then she brought the mug to him. “Drink this. It’ll take the edge off your pain.”
“Can you help me sit up first?”
She nodded and he leaned on her while she arranged pillows behind him to prop him up. When he lay back again, Nik was shocked to realize that just that small exertion left him panting and weak with pain radiating from the wound in his back.
“Drink the tea,” she repeated, handing it to him.
Still Nik hesitated. “It’ll make me sleep again, won’t it?”
“You should hope so,” she said.
He put it on the ledge beside him. “Can we talk a little first?”
She lifted her shoulders. “It’s your pain—so it’s your decision.”
“Mari, where am I?”
“You’re in my burrow—my home.”
“Where’s the other girl who was here before? There was a girl with you, wasn’t there?”
“You mean Sora. Yes, she was here. She’s outside right now, but she’ll be back soon.”
“She wanted to kill me?” Nik said.
The smile in Mari’s gray eyes briefly reached her lips. “Yes, she did. Well, she probably still does, but she won’t.”
“Why not?”
“She’d say because I won’t let her, but the truth is because it would be inhumane to kill you, and we aren’t inhumane,” she said, meeting his gaze steadily, almost as if her words were meant to challenge him.
“But she’s a Scratcher!”
“Don’t call her that. Don’t ever use that word around me,” Mari snapped at him, her gray eyes flashing with anger. “We’re Earth Walkers. If you’re going to call us something, even after you get back to your people, call us that.”
“But the pup chose you, which means you are definitely not a—”
“I am!” Mari interrupted. “I’m an Earth Walker, just like my mother before me was an Earth Walker, and her mother before her.”
Reacting to her agitation, Rigel padded over to the girl. She had returned to her place by the hearth, and the young Shepherd leaned against her, gazing up at her with adoration. And all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
It was her! She’s the girl on fire. And she has bonded with the pup, just as Father and I guessed. Nik studied Mari while she murmured softly to the canine and began brewing tea for herself.
Was he remembering wrong what she’d looked like that day she’d set the fire, or had she changed drastically? No, he hadn’t been wrong. He hadn’t needed to see her up close to know that she’d looked like any other Scratcher female. Her hair had been long and dark, and her features had been unrefined.
What had happened to change that, or was he truly stuck in a nightmare and going mad because of it? Nik decided there was only one way to know for sure. He blurted, “Did you set that fire in the forest the day that old woman fell and broke her neck?”
“She wasn’t old.” Mari’s voice had lost all emotion.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting,” Nik said, choosing his words carefully. “That was you, though, wasn’t it?”
“It was me,” she said. “The woman’s name was Leda. She was my mother.”
The truth of it settled through Nik’s blood. That was what had been familiar to Nik—the girl’s eyes! They were the same color as the woman’s who had died. Mari was truly a half-breed—the child of a Companion and a Scratcher—or rather an Earth Walker, Nik corrected himself silently. He met her gaze. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“So am I,” she said.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.”
“I know. I was there.” She paused and then added, “I saw you go to her. Did she say anything to you before she died?”
“She called me Galen. She—she thought he’d come back for her,” Nik said.
Mari looked away, blinking rapidly. Before she spoke she cleared her throat, though her voice was still rough with emotion. “Galen was my father’s name.”
“He was one of the Tribe—a Companion,” Nik said.
Mari met his eyes again. “Yes, he was. And you killed him for loving my mother.”
“Mari, I didn’t kill him,” Nik said.
“What are you doing out here in our territory, Nik?”
Nik hesitated, but the decision wasn’t difficult to make. He didn’t want to lie, and this girl—this part Companion, part Earth Walker girl who had saved his life—deserved better than a web of lies and half-truths. His father would agree with him, even if no one else in the Tribe would. So he’d tell her the truth—or as much of it as he could—but he needed information in return.
“I’ll answer any questions you have for me, but I need something from you in return,” Nik said.
Her brows went up. “That’s a pretty arrogant thing to say to the girl who just saved your life.”
Nik sighed and then grimaced at the pain the movement caused and shifted restlessly trying to find a more comfortable position. Finally, he said, “I didn’t mean it to sound arrogant. I know I’m in your debt. But I think you can imagine that I have questions for you, too.”
Mari nodded her head slightly. “Yeah, I can imagine that. Fine. I’ll trade you question for question. What do you want to know?”
“Why aren’t you childlike or filled with melancholy? Why are you and Sora normal?”
Mari blinked in surprise, and then laughed—heartily and loudly—causing Rigel to jump and bark with joy around her. She had to settle the pup and wipe her eyes before she answered him, and when she finally did her gray eyes still sparkled with suppressed amusement.
“Sorry about that. It’s just that thinking of Sora and me as normal is actually pretty funny.”
“So the rest of the Scra—um—I mean Earth Walker females are depressed and listless, even catatonic?”
“No, of course not. But Sora and I are, well,” she hesitated, obviously choosing her words carefully. “I suppose the best way to describe what we are is to call us Healers. And there is usually only one Healer per Earth Walker Clan.”
“That’s why you’re unusual? Because there are two of you for your Clan?” he asked.
“Kind of. There was only one Healer for our Clan, and she was my mother. She died without having fully trained an apprentice. You could say that Sora and I are working together to try to take Mama’s place—and neither of us knows as much as we should. That’s unusual because Healers usually only have one apprentice.”
“I’m still alive, so it seems to me that you’re doing well,” Nik said.
“I’m doing my best, and that isn’t as good as Mama, but it’s all I can do,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I’m still confused. You’re talking with me normally, as if you’re just another member of the Tribe. And I don’t remember all that happened during the past several days, but I think I would have remembered if Sora was mortally depressed. All I remember is her being angry and wanting to kill me.”
“That sums up how Sora feels about you. And, nope, she’s not depressed.”
“But why not?” Nik flung out his hands and then had to freeze, squeeze his eyes shut, and breathe through a wave of pain and nausea. When he opened his ey
es, Mari was beside his pallet, peering down at him with concern.
“I think you should drink the tea and quit moving around. Seven days ago you came very close to dying,” she said.
“I will, but this is important.” He hated how weak his voice sounded. “Could I have a drink of water?”
Mari went to the drinking bucket, filled a wooden mug, and brought it back to him.
“Thank you.” He drank deeply before he continued. “Here’s why I’m so confused. The only, ur, Earth Walkers I’ve known couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation because of their depression. They’re also childlike in their inability to care for themselves. Or, if they were men, they actively tried to kill me, and I don’t mean like Sora who said she wanted to kill me, but didn’t actually attack. So, why? Why are you two different? And look at this burrow! It’s lovely. The art is incredible. Who did it? Are all your homes like this?”
She met his eyes and shook her head, sending him an incredulous look. “First, that’s way more than one question. Second, let me guess—the only Earth Walkers you’ve known, except for Sora and me, were your prisoners.”
“Well, yes. I mean, they were all on Farm Island,” Nik said, feeling very uncomfortable, and this time not from his wounds.
“Farm Island? That’s what you call the place where you hold our people in slavery?”
“They—um—work for us there. Yes.”
“No, Nik. If they worked for you they could leave at any time. But if they try to leave, your people kill them. Holding people against their will and forcing them to work for you is slavery.”
Nik didn’t look away from her angry gray gaze. “You’re right. Yes. Farm Island is where we keep the women who tend our fields. They’re all depressed. So depressed that they eventually just lie down and die. But they’re not like you. They don’t—”