by Lori Holmes
She guessed Baarias would have brought Kyaati back to his own home to keep his eye on her. Nyri was afraid to reach out for fear of what she would feel. She made the short distance and ducked through the entranceway of Baarias’ dwelling. She found him sitting in the nearest chamber, staring into space.
“Baarias.”
He looked up at the sound of his name. Relief flooded his grey features at the sight of her. It struck Nyri that the last time he had seen her, she had been running heedlessly into the night on the heels of the men who had come to destroy them. He didn’t look like he had slept for the entire night. Her guilt impossibly found new depths.
Baarias got up and took her by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She could not have been further from it and certainly must not look it but she nodded. “I’m sorry, Baarias, I just…”
He caught her in his arms and Nyri felt his breath shudder against her. “I was so afraid last night,” he whispered. “When I realised you were no longer with us I tried to come back. I fought with the Elders but they would not let me, they would not risk… If Daajir had not thought of the wolves, I-I don’t know what would have happened. I am sorry we took so long to return. Maybe… if we had just come sooner…”
Nyri pulled away as Baarias dashed the tears from his cheeks. She knew what he meant. “It was not your fault, Baarias,” she murmured. “I am sorry too. I should not have run. I…I just…” Nyri choked on her own tears.
Baarias shook his head, quieting her. “There’s no need to explain. I can’t tell you the amount of times I have wanted to react in exactly the same way.”
“I bet you never gave into the urge, though,” she mumbled, shamefaced.
The smile he offered was haunted. “Once. And I was much older than you are now.”
Nyri sighed. His words eased her slightly.
“But never in the wake of a Wove raid,” he frowned. Her actions had frightened him deeply. “They could have been anywhere, Nyri. I was out of my mind, thinking you might have been captured. You are so lucky you didn’t stumble into a trap.”
Trap. Nyri averted her eyes at the word. No, it was not she who had fallen into the trap. “Don’t worry, Baarias. There was no sign of them. The wolves must have chased them far from the forest.” Nyri could not bring herself to tell him of what she had seen. Best to forget it. The Wove, if real, would be dead soon enough. “They’re gone.”
He closed his eyes in silent thanks, calmed and patted her shoulder.
“How is she?” Nyri blurted.
Baarias’ shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Nyriaana. Honestly, I do not know. She hasn’t spoken a word since last night. I’m keeping her here for now. She will not eat. It is like she has given up.”
It was as she had feared. “What can we do, Baarias?”
“Nothing. When she lost the others she still had Yaanth. Now she has no baby and no mate. I have no cure for a broken heart. That is up to her.”
“Can I see her?”
His mouth lifted slightly. “Of course. You are her friend, the sister of her heart, who knows; maybe you can reach her where her father and I have failed.”
Nyri could not return his smile. Some sister she had turned out to be. Drawing upon a resolve she did not feel, Nyri moved through to the next chamber. Spores from the girru moss floated softly in the air, casting a soft, golden light that warmed the browns and greens of the shelter around them. Kyaati was lying in a moss-filled bower. She was alone. She did not look up as Nyri approached, though she must have both heard and sensed her.
“Kyaati?” Nyri ventured. No answer. Nyri moved over until she was crouching by her friend’s side. Kyaati’s eyes were closed. At first Nyri thought she was sleeping but the rhythm of her breathing and the flavour of her energy told Nyri that this wasn’t so. “Kyaati. I’m here. I am so sorry I ran last night… I…” she trailed off lamely.
Silence.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
Nothing. Nyri’s hands began to tremble. Kyaati’s skin looked waxy. Her eyes were sunken and shadowed. Nyri shook her arm, needing to look into her eyes, to be reassured that some spark of spirit still existed within her feisty friend but she could feel nothing from her. All that met her senses was a chilling emptiness. Kyaati may as well not have been there. A living shell. Whatever Baarias had told her, Nyri had not been prepared for this. “Kyaati, please!”
Not even the eyelids flickered. Nyri rushed from the chamber. “Baarias!” she grabbed his arm. “What’s happened to her? She won’t even look at me.” She had hoped to see at least some sign of life, withdrawn but awake, able to heed words. Not this.
“Shhh.” Baarias attempted to calm her anxiety. “I know.” He sighed and she could feel his keen disappointment. “We have not been able to get the smallest response from her since we brought her here. If even you can’t-”
“But why?”
“I cannot say. The workings of the mind and heart are a mystery even to me. I can only guess that she has been so severely traumatised by grief that this is the only way her spirit can protect itself.”
“And there is nothing at all that we can do?” Nyri was desperate.
“I have examined her. There is nothing physically wrong with her. There is nothing to fix. All we can do is watch and wait and hope that she comes back to us. But, Nyri,” he took her shoulders gently, “please prepare yourself; the loss of this child has been a severe blow. She may not want to come back.”
Nyri shook her head. “She can’t leave us! We need her.” Nyri needed her. “We need everyone.”
Baarias shrugged. “Sometimes it is not about what we want but what is best for the person we care about. I for one would not blame Kyaati for running into the arms of the Great Spirit where she can be with her loved ones and know peace. What would she be returning to now except further pain and death? Our situation is not going to change. The Elders will not change.”
Nyri was still shaking her head. She could not take any more grief. She would not add Kyaati to her list of loved and lost. She straightened her shoulders. “I will not let her go, Baarias. There could be so much more left for her to live for. You might have given up but I say we are not finished yet!”
She turned her back abruptly before she could have her resolve shaken by pitying expression on Baarias’ face. She marched back to where Kyaati lay. Settling in beside her friend, she picked up her hand, holding it tightly in her own. “I will not let you give up,” she vowed.
No response. Nyri laid her head on the bower beside Kyaati, feeling the springy moss tickle her cheek. A silent tear escaped and she almost choked on the words. “I wish with all my heart that I could change what happened last night. I am so sorry I made you climb that tree. I am so sorry you lost your baby. And I understand if you don’t want to face anything for a while but you cannot leave us. I am here for you. We are all here. Your father needs you. Try to think of Yaanth. Think of your children. None of them would want you to just give up.” Nyri stroked the beautiful silvery hair back from her friend’s paled brow.
The words dried up so Nyri simply sat, holding Kyaati’s hand. The horrors of the previous night would not lie quiet. She kept seeing the lifeless bundle in Kyaati’s arms and the abandoned hare laying on the ground. Nyri chased these images away, only to find herself standing once more on the edge of the Pit, looking down on the demonic figure trapped there. She did not know which image was worse at that present moment.
Nyri, Nyri, Nyriaana. His voice echoed terribly through her mind, over and over.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Nyri began to murmur old tribal songs in an attempt to drown it out. If Baarias were to hear her, he would simply assume she sang for Kyaati, which was partially true. Kyaati had always liked listening to her sing. Nyri could not imagine why.
The light was fading when hunger finally drove her from her vigil. Nyri rose stiffly from Kyaati’s side after giving her promise to return. Baarias was in the next chamber. He was s
leeping at last, wrapped tightly in an aacha wool cloak for warmth. Nyri touched his brow as she passed but did not wake him.
The chill in the air hit as she stepped from the great tree. The golden spirit of Ninmah was waning in the west, scattering her tiring rays through the branches of the trees. Nyri shivered and hunched her shoulders against the cold. Her people had returned from wherever they had been but were already sheltering in their dwellings so Nyri walked through the lengthening shadows alone.
“Nyriaana!”
Almost alone.
The voice was sharp. She turned to see Daajir stalking towards her. It was easy to tell that he was not happy with her in the least. Nyri scowled. She was not in the mood for what was coming. There had been a time when his temper had frightened her. No longer. “Don’t start,” she warned. “I have enough to think about.”
“Do you? Where in Ninmah’s name did you get to last night? Did you learn nothing from the grishnaa attack? That’s twice now that you’ve put yourself in needless danger-”
“Oh back off, Daajir.” She kept walking. The hardening ground leached the warmth from her feet but she ignored the discomfort. “I’m safe. I’m back. I did not find any trouble. I just… needed to be alone.” She dared not tell him about the Wove in the Pit, either.
Nyri felt his ire spike at her attitude. “How were you to know that you wouldn’t find trouble while you were ‘alone’? How were we to know? Were it not for the need to look after Kyaati and get her home safely, I’d have come after you and dragged you back by your hair.”
Nyri’s temper flared. She had never taken kindly to being treated like a child, even when she had been a child. Her brewing tirade was cut short, however, when she tasted the guilt he was trying so hard to hide. Nyri bristled. She was not going to suffer it like she had with Omaal the day before. She stared Daajir down. “You really feel that? Well, you can stop taking this out on me, right now. Stop blaming everyone for what you feel are your own shortcomings! It is not your fault that you weren’t there to protect her, Dar. It would not have changed a thing.”
That smacked him on the nose. “I-”
Nyri raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to contradict her. She watched as he worked through his conflicting emotions. In the end, he simply ground his teeth together. “I don’t know what to do. She won’t respond.”
“I know.” Nyri lowered her eyes. They should not be fighting like this. They should be concentrating on making their friend well again.
“She stayed upright long enough for us to Cast the child to the river,” Daajir said sadly. “Then she just collapsed and hasn’t moved or spoken since.”
Nyri felt another stab in her gut. She had missed the Casting. She nodded in acknowledgment. “I have been by her side since Ninmah reached her zenith. There is no change. I’m going back as soon as I have eaten.”
“Ha!” Daajir barked, catching Nyri off guard. This time, however, his bitterness was not directed at her. “Good luck with that! No one has told you? We carried away what we could last night but we could not carry it all. The sentries reported that the Woves split up. While most of the pack came searching for us, five remained and took all that we could not take with us. We did not have time to hide the food from the Gathering properly and the tree stores were also raided.”
The news stole the air from Nyri’s lungs. She choked as she glared up at Daajir. “They took our food?”
“What do you think? They wouldn’t care if they left us for dead. It’s what Ninsiku made them for. If they can’t capture or kill us for the feast, then why not starve us while taking everything for themselves?”
Nyri straightened with an effort and walked on. She hoped the Wove out there in the forest rotted in the Pits of Ninsiku’s damnation. She would not shed any tears over him. She would go back and dance on his grave as soon as she was sure he was dead and no more poison could pass from his lips.
They reached the nearest tree used for storing food. With Daajir following closely, Nyri climbed into the branches, quieting the stinging thorns that guarded against raiding with an absent thought; raiding from birds and maamits at least. The entrance to the store was set high into the bulbous trunk of the eshaara tree, creating a deep cool chamber within. She felt sick when she saw the near empty space. All of their hard work to lay provisions for the long Fury – all for nothing. Yesterday’s fruitful gathering had never even made it this far. Many of the baskets and hanging nets were gone. Cut free and carried away by the enemy.
Entering the tree behind her, Daajir peered darkly into one depleted basket; his lips were white with anger. “The Elders are assessing the situation. Rations may have to be cut to one piece of food per day.”
“No! Daajir, that will never be enough! The weakest members of the tribe won’t survive on such rations.” Nyri felt her eyes prick with tears.
Daajir’s were dry and hard as stone. He had done his grieving, now it was time to do what had to be done. “There is no other way!” he said. “If we do not, the stores will fail by mid-Fury. Even rationed, there is only enough for-” He cut himself off and turned his back as his emotions fought to break through his control. His shoulders were stiff beneath the leaf-leather and his fists clenched tight.
Nyri stood silently for a moment. She had no words. Giving Daajir space, she allowed herself to choose just one small fruit from a half empty basket. She may as well get used to the bite of hunger. It was a long time until the Blooming. How many would live to see it?
The pulp was tasteless in her mouth as she ate. Daajir regained his composure and stared hard into the deepening night. “They’ll be back. They know we’re here now. They will be back.”
A chill pierced Nyri’s heart. When she and Kyaati had fallen so conveniently into their enemies’ laps, they had destroyed any plan the Elders had put into place. Their enemies knew the tribe was here now. Daajir was right. They would be back.
Daajir shifted. “Half of the Elders say we should leave this place and flee. Aardn has overruled them for now. Where do we run to with the Fury so fast approaching? There is nowhere else for us to go. Without shelter or provisions, we will die.” He paused, weighing his words. “Our only option is to defend ourselves. We need to fight back. It served us well enough last night.”
For a long time Nyri stared into the darkening sky, feeling it reflect the hopelessness within her soul. She fought against it but it was like trying to push back the night itself.
“What are you thinking?” Daajir asked finally.
“That I want to run into the forest again and never stop this time.”
He glowered at her.
“What can we do, Dar?” Nyri asked him. “We got lucky. We caught them by surprise last night. Their weapons are powerful and they are bigger and stronger than we are. How can we ever defend ourselves against them? Such a course would spell our doom as surely as anything else. We can’t expect the wolves to protect us. Would we sacrifice the lives of the Great Spirit’s Children for ours? The Woves will be ready for them next time. They’ll bring more weapons to kill them.”
“I’m taking care of it. You just focus on taking care of Kyaati.”
He was gone back down the tree before Nyri could ask what he could possibly mean by that. She sighed. She would not interfere; let him indulge in whatever helped to distract him from this. Nyri needed to return to her own distraction before she was crushed beneath the weight of it all.
She climbed back down to earth, wincing now at the touch of the ground on the soles of her feet. Her breath plumed in the air, sharp in her lungs. She needed to find shelter fast.
Hurrying back to the warmer walls of Baarias’ dwelling, she was grateful to find he had set more of the girru moss glowing. Nyri found her teacher kneeling beside Kyaati. He had her head propped on one arm while gently dripping water into her mouth with his free hand. Her eyes were still closed but the water was going down. Baarias looked up as Nyri came to stand beside him. He took her hand. Still no response
but she is swallowing liquids. That’s a blessing. She would soon perish without water. I can feed her honey. If we have any left… He trailed off.
I’ll watch over her tonight, Baarias. Nyri thought quickly. You need to get some rest. He still looked exhausted.
You don’t look much better.
I’m younger, tired old man. Nyri smiled half-heartedly.
Baarias laughed softly and gave way to her. “Ninmah watch over you this night, Nyriaana,” he said as he moved out to his private chamber. “I should sleep better knowing you’re safe in my home and not out running with Woves.”
Nyri’s nerves thrilled unpleasantly as she thought of the night before and what she had found. “Go,” she said, hiding her eyes from his, lest he read something there. She settled down beside Kyaati as he left, cocooning herself in the leaves and moss and tried to get warm. It allowed her the illusion of safety as the temperature plummeted. She wondered if the Wove in the Pit could survive without shelter. Nyri felt a shiver of concern before she quashed it fiercely. It’s not Juaan, you fool! That’s your enemy out there. Be glad that it’ll most likely freeze to death. One less beast to come after you.
Nyri turned her attention to Kyaati when her rebellious heart refused to quieten. She brushed her fingers through her friend’s hair. “It’s a cold night, Kyaati,” she murmured. She did not focus on the negativities of that. She had to make Kyaati feel like there was something to live for. After her talk with Daajir, she was hard pressed to think of anything. If she was honest with herself it would be a relief just to close her own mind to the world, lie down and accept the inevitable.
“It’s going to be a beautiful morning,” she said instead. “Can you imagine it? Clear skies, no clouds to interrupt the dawning of Ninmah. You always loved those mornings. It’d be wonderful to share it together.” No response. Nyri watched her friend’s steady breathing for a few more moments and gave up. “I’ll be right here if you need me, Kyaati.”
Nyri’s eyes were beginning to feel heavy. She hadn’t been awake for long but the recent events still dragged at her, sapping her energy. She laid her head down, keeping the image of the morning forefront in her mind so that it might hide all else as she slept.