Daughter of Ninmah

by Lori Holmes

  * * *

  12

  A Line Drawn

  Daajir paced through the trees. The path he trod had become a well worn route. His mind took him to where he needed to go without the need for conscious thought.

  His fingers flexed into claw-like appendages as the previous night’s events ran through his mind, stinging and ripping as they went. Kyaati, her baby. If only he had been quicker, if only he had tested his plans sooner, he could have protected her from those beasts. He had been weak and that had cost his people dearly. Cost him.

  His hopes for the future lay shrivelled at his feet. He had planned, once Kyaati’s baby had been born, to approach the Elders and ask for their approval of the match. He would have been Joined to her at last - as he should have been from the start. It had been that weak fool Yaanth who had first taken her from him all those seasons ago. It was a match that should never have been. Aardn was right. Sefaan had much to answer for. Because of her misguided actions, Kyaati had lost four precious lives. But the last, the last was on him.

  Daajir kicked savagely at the ground as he recalled Kyaati’s lifeless eyes as she lay in Baarias’ tree. The object of his desire. Ruined. If Kyaati had been robbed from him a second time, that left one other possibility. He wasn’t blind to the hopes of the Elders. He knew their secret hopes.

  Nyriaana.

  Daajir snorted through his nose. That maddening slip of a girl. Unwillingly, he turned the possibility over in his mind. She was certainly strong in Ninmah’s Gift. Stronger than Kyaati perhaps. Hmmm. Despite all her flaws, it was tempting. He would have to wait of course. Baarias seemed to be in no hurry to name her a full akaab but he could not put it off forever. The thought of the children they could produce filled his mind. Perhaps he would have the honour of fathering the next Kaamali, finally replacing the dangerous fool, Sefaan. The thought banished his gloom for a few glorious moments.

  Then he thought of Nyriaana herself and the glow retreated. Even for a Kaamali offspring, the thought of sullying himself with the Forbidden-lover turned him cold. The way she had fawned over that thing as a child. Daajir’s stomach roiled. He regretted that the satisfaction of finishing that abomination had not fallen to him. Yet another thing the Woves had robbed him of.

  He sighed sharply. Maybe it was no matter. Nyri had been nothing more than a misguided baby and in the passing seasons since the abomination’s murder, he had found it in his heart to forgive her, if only a little. Nevertheless, she had still grown into a foolish girl. Her actions over the past days had proven that much. He flexed his fingers in vexation.

  Suppose she had been killed by the grishnaa or taken by the Woves? He would have had to live with yet another life on his conscience.

  Maybe if he was Joined with Nyriaana, he could curb her more flighty tendencies. He could see to it that she grew up at last and took her duties to her people seriously.

  As he had failed to do.

  Daajir came to a halt when the dank smell of the hollow filled his nostrils. He had reached his destination without even realising it. He looked around, the overhanging trees shrouded the place in shadow, never quite letting the black soil at their feet dry up. Puddles gathered here and there. The scent of rotting leaf mould hung over everything in a shrowd.

  Breathing through his mouth, Daajir started into the hollow, making his way to a fallen, half-rotted trunk. The earth squelched between his toes as he pushed the log back.

  The hissing snake reared up to greet him. Its irritation lashed against Daajir’s senses and before he could think, the snake struck, catching him upon the arm with its venomous fangs.

  “Ah!” Daajir fell back a step as the burning began in his wrist. The snake coiled, awaiting his next move as it watched him with lidless eyes. Daajir growled as he studied the puncture wounds. Another visit to Baarias. But that would have to wait. He could hold off the venom’s effects long enough to do what he needed. Extending his will, he slowed the blood flow in his arm, containing the deadly substance before it could reach his vital innards. If it got there, death would be instant.

  He glared furiously at the snake. “I have no time for your games today.” The snake spat, hissing low in its throat. Daajir bared his teeth. “Fight me if you wish, but I have run out of patience. You will serve me.” With that he bent his will upon the creature’s reptilian mind.

  Until now, he had given the snake a choice to do as he asked. It was Ninmah’s lore that the Children of the Great Spirit should be respected but such restrictions were becoming a hinder. He grabbed hold of the snake’s mind.

  It resisted, fighting against Daajir’s hold. And Daajir fought back. Each time it tried to wrench its mind free, Daajir caused it pain, jabbing at its nerves until it writhed and twisted before him in the dirt.

  Fury turned to fear as the creature began to realise there was no escape. Daajir felt its terror saturate his tongue and he… liked it. A heady sense of power flooded through him as the snake concluded that it must bend to his will or die.

  Its struggles ceased and it lay exhausted in the dirt, head bowed, ready to do whatever he wanted. A slow grin slid over Daajir’s face as he drew out a hala nutshell half. He extended it towards the snake’s lowered head.

  Bite. He commanded.

  Obedient, the snake opened its mouth and bit down on the shell, allowing Daajir to push it up into his fangs and draw the venom from its sacks.

  “Good.” Daajir sent the thought simultaneously. “Remember this next time we meet. You serve me now.” The snake did not meet his eyes as he dropped the log back over it.

  Daajir swirled the deadly contents of the shell before him. Potent. But too fast acting for his liking. He did not want things to happen too fast. Quick was a mercy and their enemies did not deserve mercy.

  Fortunately, Daajir thought he had found the answer. A carnivorous vaash plant was growing not far from where he stood. Its downward pointing thorns, each one as long as his finger, dripped a purple poison into the slimy reservoir that it had formed around its stem. The perfect trap for unsuspecting rodents to fall into and dissolve slowly into the plant’s digestive juices.

  The action of the vaash plant’s poison was slow. Best of all, there was no cure for it. Very carefully, Daajir plucked a thorn from the plant’s stem and dipped its deadly tip into the snake venom. In theory, he had created the perfect concoction. Slow acting, painful and incurable.

  But that was all it was. Theory. His courage had failed short of testing this new invention. That cowardice had cost him Kyaati. Daajir looked at the dripping thorn in his hand. Its tip was razor sharp. Sharp enough to pierce the skin of its intended victims. It would suffice in delivering the poison. He had everything he needed. It was time to test it-

  A rustle of leaves brought his head up. A deer was browsing through the undergrowth. It returned his regard calmly for a few moments before continuing on its way.

  Daajir gritted his teeth, his courage wavering. To control a Child of the Great Spirit against its will was a serious trespass. To kill a Child of the Great Spirit…

  Daajir shuddered, almost turning away until the memory of Kyaati’s despairing face stiffened his spine. What was one life when he would be saving so many more?

  Gripping the thorn between his fingers, Daajir started after the deer in his sights…

  * * *

  13

  The Choice

  Ninmah had dawned bright over the canopy as Sefaan emerged from her tree. The basketful of materials she carried in her hands was hard against her stiff fingers. Light played over her face. The sky between the gently waving leaves above was shot with a rainbow of colours. She drew a rattling breath of the crisp air as the ground bit at her toes, exacerbating the ache in her joints.

  Sefaan blew out the breath. Discomfort was becoming her constant companion. Too old, too old… It would be a relief when Ninmah finally allowed her to join with the Great Spirit. But, tired as she was, she knew there were vital tasks ahead. The Great Spirit nee
ded her still and so here she remained.

  Sefaan let out a soft snort as she spied Aardn walking through the trees at a distance. Dislike curled through her stomach. Tasks to be done but the Elder had made it her business to make Sefaan’s role in guiding her people an almost impossible task. She had severely underestimated the wily determination of Aardn.

  Aardn’s words from a fateful day long ago rose in Sefaan’s mind. Mark my words, you have brought a curse down upon us this day. I will never forget it. No, Aardn had never forgotten, nor had she forgiven.

  Her hatred for what Sefaan had forced the tribe to accept that day had forever tainted her respect for the authority of the Kaamali. In the long seasons since she had done her best to undermine Sefaan’s influence over their people; determined that such heresy would never be accepted again. Sefaan knew if Aardn could exclude her fully from any participation in the tribe’s function, she would do it.

  Sefaan sighed. She had done what the Great Spirit commanded. That was her duty as Kaamali. To do otherwise would be to go against Ninmah’s will. Aardn was too blinded to see it.

  A movement caught Sefaan’s eye and she turned her head to see young Nyriaana emerging from the healer’s tree. The girl’s brow was creased with concern and her stride lacked its usual energy.

  “Nyriaana,” she called softly. The young girl turned at the sound of her name and came towards her. Her troubled expression did not lift in greeting but she relieved Sefaan of the basket she carried without hesitation, helping her to place it on the ground. She would make a fine healer one day.

  “How is Kyaati?” Sefaan asked. She already knew the answer but it was obvious that Nyriaana was too distracted to speak and she wanted the girl to talk.

  “There’s no change,” she answered heavily. “She’s just… lifeless.”

  Hmmm. Sefaan dropped her gaze. This is not how it is supposed to happen. That girl cannot die. The Great Spirit needs her to live. Sefaan had not yet divined the reason for Kyaati’s great necessity in the Great Spirit’s plan but she knew in her bones that the girl needed to live. She only hoped that for once Baarias would be up to the task.

  Her brow creased at the thought of the healer. Baarias was the most important of all, the Great Spirit swirled around him. Everything depended upon a choice he would make and Sefaan did not know if he had the courage to make the right one. He had failed so many times in the past. It had been pleasing to see him stand up to the Elders at long last, but was it enough?

  “Sefaan?”

  “Hmmm?” She realised that the girl was still standing before her.

  “I was going to find some honey.” Nyriaana spoke. “She can only take liquid.”

  “Ah.” Yes, Kyaati needed food. Baarias knew what he was doing in this regard at least. Sefaan reached around behind her for the hala nut containing her breakfast. Its curving brown sides were sticky with the cloudy yellow substance, spilling from a hole in the top. “Here.” She pushed it into Nyri’s hands. “I was keeping it because I know what it’s like to only be able to take liquids.” She flashed her weakening teeth at Nyriaana.

  “Sefaan,” the girl admonished, trying to push the large shell back at her. “I can find some more. You might need this.”

  “Kyaati needs it more child. You take it for her. We need her. She is vital. Believe me.”

  Nyriaana nodded solemnly. Sefaan knew she did not understand the true meaning of her words, the girl was only thinking of her friend’s importance to herself.

  “I’ll get Daajir to find me more,” Sefaan soothed Nyriaana’s conscience in taking the honey. “That boy needs something healthy to focus on. I don’t like the path he is following. I feel a great sadness is approaching and he is at the centre of it…”

  The Great Spirit had shivered last night. A balance had been tipped and not for the better.

  Nyriaana shifted her feet. The girl’s dark eyes were distant, lacking their usual focus. The crease between her brows had not loosened since Sefaan had first laid eyes on her. The Great Spirit danced. Look… the energy seemed to whisper. Look now…

  Sefaan had been a Kaamali too long to ignore such a tug. She caught hold of Nyriaana’s hand and extended her will. The girl’s shock rippled as she hastily tried to throw a guard up around her thoughts. There was something that she was trying to hide, something very important. “You are also keeping a secret,” Sefaan muttered. She closed her eyes, concentrating. Behind Nyriaana’s defences, Sefaan could feel the conflict raging inside her. “Your heart and your head are very much at war over it.”

  Nyriaana stiffened under her touch as Sefaan’s words hit their target.

  “What are you hiding, young one?”

  Nyriaana’s thoughts raced against her mind, so great was the girl’s anguish that they could no longer be safely contained. Snatches of images and words flashed behind Sefaan’s closed lids.

  Nyri, Nyri, Nyriaana. A voice called.

  Juaan. The girl’s own voice answered.

  Then there were more images. Images of a fur cloaked horror lying at the bottom of a Pit. No sooner had the image formed in Sefaan’s mind, than the picture morphed and the fur cloaked figure became a boy, lying broken, freezing and starving to death at the bottom of a deep Pit. Dying alone. Agony swirled around the image.

  Nyriaana…

  No, the girl’s voice again. You’re dead. You can’t be there. It’s not you.

  Nyriaana…

  “No!” Nyriaana tried to pull away, horrified at her betraying thoughts. “Please, Sefaan, I cannot tell you! I must be alone in this and my decision is made.”

  The Great Spirit spiked painfully at this declaration, denying, despairing.

  “No!” It was Sefaan’s turn to deny the girl as panic shot through her. “Time is running out. Fast!” More. She needed to know more. Sefaan tightened her hold on Nyriaana’s hand. The Great Spirit swirled about them and Sefaan gasped. This was the choice upon which the future depended. She had got it wrong. Perhaps she was losing her grip after all. “Decide soon or it will be too late. Act, child!” Her voice was sharp in her own ears and Nyriaana flinched as she released her hand. “I was wrong. It wasn’t Baarias. Not him. It is you.” The girl was always so close to the healer. “The choice you make could change everything. The future is fast arriving. It sits in your hands, waiting.”

  “How? Why?” Nyriaana asked, bewildered.

  “I cannot tell you because you will not confide in me. The secret you hold is too great.” Sefaan turned away. “I will say this: do not become the coward your teacher has always been. Be brave like your mother and follow your heart, Nyriaana. I know it will never lead you astray.”

  She needed to think, to focus. Sefaan walked back into the gloom of her tree, leaving the girl confused and very torn in her wake.

  * * *

  * * *

  The future is fast arriving. It sits in your hands… waiting.

  Sefaan’s words became inescapable as Nyri made her way back to Baarias’ tree, tormenting her. How could the future be sitting in her hands? The only secret she kept was the whereabouts of an enemy. That did not mean anything. And yet… her traitorous heart kept running out into the forest, back to fret over that cursed Pit.

  Nyri, Nyri, Nyriaana.

  Nyri tightened her control; pulling her heart away from the edge. There was no way she would go back out there. Even if she wanted to, it was too dangerous. Baarias was right, their enemies could be anywhere. The sentries had not yet discovered the whereabouts of the Woves or confirmed that they had left the territory. They could be out in the woods right now searching for their fallen companion, hunting for her people. She shivered.

  Baarias thankfully did not comment on her distracted state as they spent the day treating those that had suffered injuries in their flight from the Woves. Perhaps he was simply as distracted as she, worrying over Kyaati.

  As darkness fell for the second time since the Wove attack, Nyri remained by Kyaati’s side. Curled deep into t
he moss-filled bower, she tried not to jump at every night sound. Nyri comforted herself with the knowledge that if the Woves were closing, the sentries would sound the alert.

  Kyaati lay motionless beside her. She wanted to say something, to offer words of comfort but all thoughts lodged in her throat. Nyri sighed and turned over, seeking release in sleep. She could not remember ever feeling more exhausted but peace would not be granted.

  Decide soon or it will be too late. You must act!

  Nyri, Nyri, Nyriaana…

  Her heart contracted, yearning to answer the call, fighting against her control. It was now almost too powerful to contain.

  Follow your heart.

  Nyri…

  Do not be a coward. Be brave like your mother…

  As if in answer, her mother’s voice rose to join Sefaan’s. Nyri, I want you to meet Juaan… We have to look after him now because no one else will.

  No one else will…

  I promise to look after you, too, Juaan. We look after each other now.

  By the time Ninmah rose, Nyri had crumbled. Scrubbing dry, sleep-deprived eyes, she threw herself out of the bower to pace fiercely back and forth. Waves of nervous energy rolled through her body but she did not bother to control it.

  Nyriaana.

  “Stop!” she burst out to the silence. “I can’t take this anymore! Ninmah so help me!” But Ninmah did not answer and no clarity was forthcoming.

  The choice you make could change everything…

  “Urrghhh,” Nyri growled, clenching her fists. She stopped pacing to stare down at the unmoving Kyaati. She had always been able to tell her anything. Kyaati had never held any love for Juaan, either, but there would be no harm in sharing this secret with her now. If it snapped her out of this frightening stupor, then so much the better. Nothing else had worked.