Beginning at the End (Moon Child Trilogy: Book One)

by Sandra Lang

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  We break our temporary camp at dawn. I am little help to my family and we are lucky that my uncle Pilar and cousins Aros and Reven are able to help us. Tala and my mother attempt to help me move down the mountain path to our village. It is a sight to behold, too. Three women, one hobbling in the middle, trying to make their way downhill; each of us carrying a basket tied to our backs. I am relieved that we decided to follow at the back of the tribe so we do not slow anyone down or show just how silly I look.

  “Spirits just take me now,” I groan when we reach the next sight we will camp for the night.

  They help me sit down on a rock near the Sharp Stone tents my father, Pilar, and my cousins are trying to put up. My mother and Tala go to help and soon enough both tents are up and nearly ready. I hop my way into the tent and lay a rug onto the ground. I toss my blankets on it unceremoniously and then lay down myself.

  “Akari,” my mother says gently. I know what is going to come next and I desperately hope she is going to ask if I want something to drink or eat.

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “I need to change your dressings.”

  I can already feel the tears welling in my eyes. “Was my day not awful enough?” I whimper.

  Tala wraps her arms around me. “The faster we get it done, the sooner it will be over.”

  I nod my consent and allow my mother to unwrap the rugged cloth we decided to use until we can get a new boot. Tala hands me the wooden spoon, telling me to bite on it when it starts to hurt. I snort with laughter but gladly accept it.

  I hold out on biting the handle of the spoon until my mother begins to unwrap the last layer of cloth. It pulls at the leaves still wrapped around my toes. Already blisters are forming and the sickly green sheen from the leaves makes my stomach roll. My toes are submerged in cool water next. The relief spreads up my foot and into my calf. Once clean, Mother inspects the skin and nods her approval.

  “I give it a half cycle, maybe less.”

  “To heal?” I say in disbelief.

  She gives me a disapproving look. “It may leave a scar. Though I doubt that will be the worst of your worries.”

  “A scar would be terrible!”

  “Losing the foot to infection would be worse,” she says nonchalantly.

  “But Granny will be able to help, will she not?”

  Mother smiles. “Of course. She and the Shaman will know just how to patch you up.”

  I do not know why I always forget Natoak (the Shaman) when thinking of these things. Because he lives outside of our village, he is not always in my forethought. But now would be a good time to make use of his herb garden. Before I left on my Wise Woman journey, he showed me all of the items he grows and explained their properties. In my mind’s eye, I can actually see the plant that would help ward off infection… granted infection has not set in by the time we reach the village.

  Four days later we arrive. Granny waits with the other elders at the edge of the village, waving and smiling. Natoak stands next to her with his arms crossed and a warrior’s reserve situated on his face. He breaks it slightly at the sight of me; although his smile quickly fades to concern. He walks up, puts his arm beneath my shoulders and helps me along, relieving Tala and my mother to visit with Granny and Tala’s grandparents.

  “Moon Child, what have you done to yourself?” He is the only member of the tribe who is allowed to call me Moon Child without me becoming offended. When he says it, I do not feel like it is something to be ashamed of. It is simply the name he has chosen to use in regards to me and I have to accept it.

  “There was an accident. It is nothing to be concerned with,” I say shrugging off his concern.

  “You burned your foot, that is never an accident.”

  “How did you…” I give him a suspicious look. “You know, I do not even think you would give me a straight answer even if I asked.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “I would not and you know why.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Divine powers gifted to you by the gods and spirits,” I say teasingly.

  He smiles and softens. “I have missed your company all winter.”

  “I have missed you too, Natoak.” The old man has always been kind to me. There is a special bond between the two of us. And I have Tarok to thank for making it official… that is, if he would ever remember it outright.

  Our village and home until the beginning of fall is sheltered by a large and tall break of rocks on the windward side, the forest at our back and opposite side, with a river that carved its way through the forest. It is filled with more permanent structures built to last through the harsh bay winters. The wood of our larger huts and communal gathering places is treated with a lacquer each summer that we trade for when the trading men of the west come to our bay. The best part is each hut is set off the ground on stilts in case the ocean swells and floods our village. When the raining season starts at the end of summer we will be thankful for the stilts.

  Well, that is normally the best part… when one is not bound to the ground with an injured foot.

  Sharp Stone House consists of three huts – my father’s, my uncle’s, and my grandmother’s – on a single raised platform two feet off the ground. My grandmother used to share hers with my grandfather, but he passed away two summers ago. Both my uncle and my father insisted she join them. She vehemently refused to give up her last memories of my grandfather. I personally think she was being overly dramatic. We all know she enjoys her space and would prefer not to share.

  Pilar’s oldest son Aros, who will be seventeen summers, will have to build his own hut this season to share with his future family. The men of the family generally stay within their birth house while the women bind themselves to another. There are exceptions to this, however. Deep Forest always accepts the second sons from other houses. Being the hunters of the tribe and main food gatherers, they are always willing to take in men and boys who feel the call of the forest, so to speak. Reven, his younger brother, will have to stay in Sharp Stone because my father did not have sons to carry on the tradition of weapon carving.

  My father and Pilar help me up onto our platform. I make my way inside the hut and begin setting up my sleeping space. It is the only thing I can really do; even though my foot is feeling much better, it still will not allow me much use. My mother and I unpack all of our belongings and set them about to personalize our spaces and then set to work on the rest of the hut.

  Chapter Five