Lost and Found

by Mary Hamilton

  And then it hit her. The bird song had ceased. There was no insect buzzing. The sound of the water even seemed to recede. Marzi’s stomach began to churn. She felt, but could not see, something out there. Something watched her. She jumped up and whirled around. Nothing.

  Her gaze landed on every bush and tree. Nothing. She could neither hear sound nor see movement. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bush shake. She turned in that direction and her heart dropped.

  Chapter 51: Marzi

  She saw what looked like a wolf, only smaller than and not as majestic as Lapis. It stood still, not taking its eyes from her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another movement of brush. Turning her head slightly, she saw the second wolf. And then a third. She dared not turn around to look behind her, but she knew, almost instinctively, that they were back there as well.

  She faced the middle of the three that she could see. She had no weapon. Maybe if she offered them her food it would be enough, but she knew better. Her heart pounded. Her eyes shifted from side to side, trying to keep them in view.

  And then they began to move. They broke cover and slunk toward her, their yellow eyes boring into hers, never looking away. Marzi searched for something, anything. Yes, there, a tree with a low-hanging limb. She’d climbed trees before. It was not far—maybe ten strides. And there were no wolves in that direction.

  She eased her hand into her food pouch and drew out all of her dried meat. Throwing it on the ground, she broke into a full run toward salvation. The low growls from behind chilled her heart. Marzi knew that the beasts had not taken the food she’d thrown. They came for her.

  She charged harder. Four more strides, three, two, almost there. Just as she reached for the branch, her foot caught on an exposed root and she went down hard. She covered her head and closed her eyes. At least the end would be quick.

  But the teeth and claws never came. Amidst the frenetic noise, she heard unexpected sounds, a voice, then another. Wolf yelps turned to screeches and then fell silent. Marzi opened her eyes and removed her hands from her head. Sitting up, she turned to look in the direction from which she had come. Standing beside one of the fallen wolves was Ran, broadsword in hand, while Ellemareth and Ryshara emerged from the brush. Rys returned her bow to her shoulder, and Elle used her staff as a walking stick. Each of them wore an impassive look. Their gazes moved between the dead wolves and Marzi. Their gait was slow and deliberate, mouths drawn into tight lines. Lapis stood over the downed body of one wolf, blood on his muzzle.

  Looking at the three of them and Lapis, mixed emotions flooded over Marzi. She felt guilt at having betrayed them. On the other hand, she was glad they that had found her and not one of the adults or, worse yet, one of the ruling council.

  She felt a lump in her throat when she heard Elle say to Rys “I told you, you should have left it in the forest.”

  But Marzi’s heart fell when she heard movement behind the trio and Lothran stepped into the clearing. His fierce blue eyes burned a hole into her heart. He strode toward her, fists clenched at his side. She lowered her gaze.

  ◆◆◆

  Marzi took her seat across the table from the council members, none of whom had greeted her or even, to this point, acknowledged her presence. Empress Ariessa studied a piece of parchment in front of her. The others stared at the table top, examined their hands, or gazed toward the window.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Ariessa set the parchment aside and addressed Marzi. “I am not accustomed to revisiting directions that I have given. And so, this meeting is particularly distressing. I am certain that we made our expectations clear, Marzi Gloam of Pangrove. And yet, despite our accepting you into our homes and community, despite the trust shown to you by all, and especially by Lord Lothran and his daughter, you have chosen to betray us.”

  Marzi closed her eyes against the onslaught. She felt some shame, but they didn’t understand. How could they? They weren’t trapped away from their family and being held prisoner. She stifled the urge to explain. The empress’s words and tone made clear the futility of that action. She continued to sit and stare at the tabletop.

  As Ariessa continued, her voice softened slightly. “But as Lord Lothran has once again reminded me, you are but a child. I must say, though, that children your age are expected to follow the rules in the Bough.” She fell silent.

  Marzi glanced up, wondering if she were now expected to say something. If so, she could think of nothing to add that would make a difference. Indeed, she felt that any words she uttered at this point would only make things worse.

  But the empress was looking down at a parchment and tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. “We will allow you to remain.” The true meaning—you are still a prisoner—was not lost in the words. “But I will be more explicit so there is no misunderstanding. You will not attempt to flee. You will not venture into the forest without accompaniment. You will, at all times, ensure that Lord Lothran and his daughter are aware of your activities. Is this clear enough for you, Marzi Gloam of Pangrove?”

  Marzi meant to say Yes, Empress Ariessa. It is clear. Instead, her pain, anger, and desperation won out. And even as the words gushed, she knew she had made a grievous mistake. “That’s easy for you to say. But I haven’t done anything to hurt you. And yet you treat me like I’m nothing. No, worse than nothing. Surely you understand. You have to. You have a daughter who is gone. How do you think she feels? How do you feel with her gone? Would you want her just to give up and not try to come home to you?” By the time she finished, tears streamed down her cheeks.

  As her words tumbled out into the room, echoed around, and faded, the looks on the faces of the council spoke to her. She was now in far more serious trouble than before.

  Ariessa stiffened visibly. She drew back in her chair, eyes wide and glaring. Her fists clenched and turned white on the tabletop. “My family is none of your concern. You have ventured too far. You will never speak of this again.” Her mouth opened, as if to say more, but she closed it before words could escape.

  Marzi glanced around the room. The fear and guilt she’d felt before evaporated, to be replaced by rage. “No!” The word came out as a shout. She leaned forward and pounded a fist on the table. “You cannot hold me prisoner here away from my home and family and then just tell me that I can’t talk about things. I will say whatever I want. And I will not remain here. No matter how long I have to wait, I will escape. And I will go home to my family. I have a mother and father that love me.” She started to contrast that love with whatever grief existed between the empress and her daughter, but a small cautionary voice told her to stop.

  Ariessa’s face turned a dark shade of pink. Her hands and face trembled. When she spoke, her voice was laced with venom bordering on hatred. “Let me be clear. If you will not comply with our dictates, you will not remain.”

  Marzi heard a collective gasp around the table. Something had happened, but it escaped her. Had the empress just agreed that she could leave? She glanced from face to face. Each told a similar tale—a line had been crossed.

  Before she could respond, the empress continued in a more composed voice. “And, again, in the interest of clarity, that does not mean that you will be allowed to leave. It means, quite simply, that you will not be allowed to be.”

  Marzi thought it a curious statement. What does that actually mean?

  Lothran interrupted her thoughts. “Empress.” His piercing blue eyes met Ariessa’s.

  The empress jerked her head around to stare at him. Her clenched jaw and crimson face betraying her rage. But she held her words. Instead, she stood, turned, and left the room without speaking.

  Lothran stood as well. “That concludes the meeting. Thank you all.” The remainder of the council stood and began talking softly among themselves.

  Marzi felt a tug on her arm. “Come. Let us go.” She turned to see Ryshara, a deep fear in her blue eyes.

  Chapter 52: Marzi

  Marzi sat on t
he pad collecting her thoughts. She wanted to apologize but had trouble sorting things out in her head. In truth, she wasn’t sorry that she had tried to escape. She wasn’t really even sorry that she’d exploded at Ariessa. These people were keeping her prisoner, keeping her from going home to her parents. They had no right. And while Ryshara was like a friend, she was also part of the Bough. They should be apologizing to me.

  Rys stood and wandered over to the cooking area. “Are you ready for some dinner now?” She turned and stared, a blank look in her eyes.

  Marzi had not been hungry earlier and her appetite had not improved. “No.” The word came out loud and abrupt. She softened her tone and lowered her head. “Thank you.”

  Ryshara shrugged and moved food from the plate that sat on the counter into the center of a large leaf and folded it over. “I will put it outside. Let me know if you change your mind.” She eased out the back door to the food cache and returned a moment later. She dropped down onto her pad. “Marzi, I want you to know that I understand. I know that you miss your home and your family. But what you did was wrong.”

  “Keeping me prisoner is wrong.”

  Rys sighed. “We can debate that later. But you hurt my father, who vouched for you. You hurt Ran when you manipulated him into giving you information. You hurt me by…” She lowered her head.

  Marzi refused to give in. “What would you do if you were in a strange land far away from your home and family? Would you try to get back or would you just go along with the laws of the area and do what you were told?”

  Ryshara glanced up and cocked her head. “I cannot say. I have never been in that situation. Perhaps one day I will know. But for now, all I can do is to tell you what things look like from my own view. There comes a point, Marzi, where we must be able to move beyond what we, as individuals, want and think of others. You injured Ariessa with your remarks about her daughter. That was personal. The empress’s decrees were not personal. They did not come from her. They came from the council and the laws that protect our community. You lashed out and you hurt the empress badly for something that was not her fault. I know you are better than that, Marzi. I know you are good, in your heart.”

  Just then, the door opened and Lothran strode in. “Good evening.” His words came out softly. His lowered head and slow, laborious movement conveyed fatigue.

  Rys stood, walked over to her father and hugged him. “Would you like tea or nectar, father?”

  He glanced at her and then at the floor. “Tea would be nice. Thank you.” He took a seat at the dining table.

  Marzi stood and tentatively made her way to the table. As she climbed up onto her custom perch, she lowered her head. “I must apologize.” Does that count as an apology?

  He gazed at her for a moment before looking away and nodding.

  She wondered whether she should promise not to run off again. She wanted to reassure him but knew that any such guarantee would be a lie. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, or anyone.”

  He turned his chair so that he faced her. At the same time, Ryshara returned with a cup of steaming brew and set it in front of him. He glanced up and smiled at her. “Thank you, Daughter.”

  Taking a sip, he closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to Marzi. “You must understand. The empress acts in the interests of the Twilight Bough. Tonight she… well, you touched a nerve. I will not belabor that, but her reaction was unfortunate. I ask that you put that out of your mind.”

  Marzi tried to make sense of the words. “Yes, I know that what I said hurt her and I was wrong.” She thought to offer a justification but decided against it. “But what do you mean, unfortunate?”

  Lothran closed his eyes and tilted his head back to face the ceiling. After he looked back at her, he took a deep breath. “To understand, you must know some of our history. The Bough you see today is not as it has always been. Centuries ago, our world, or what we know of our world, was connected to a larger one teeming with life. Different races co-existed. But with the differences came conflict, which turned to war. As a result, our realm has been cut off from the outside, or whatever still exists of it. At first, we struggled with the change and not everyone adapted well. We found it necessary to create expectations of behavior through laws and rules. Those who were incapable of following these laws, well…” He paused, narrowed his eyes, and nodded, “they were put to death.” He closed his eyes tightly.

  Marzi gasped. So that was what the empress meant—that Marzi would not be allowed to be.

  Before she could react, though, Lothran continued. “Long ago we banned that kind of punishment. It remains a source of shame to our race. And regardless of the empress’s pain or anger, that kind of thing has no place among our people.”

  But his reassurances didn’t diminish the realization that Marzi had ventured far beyond what was acceptable. She struggled to gain her breath as she shook her head. She could think of no words with which to respond.

  “I understand your pain, Marzi. I can understand your determination to go home and be with your family. I know how important my daughter is to me. I expect that your parents feel no less. So, I will not ask for a promise that you will not flee again. I only ask that you weigh your actions carefully. Attempting to escape again could result in your death, as almost happened this time. It also injects conflict into our community. You have friends here who will be hurt. I only ask that you keep that in mind.” He gazed at her, his head cocked and his blue eyes rimmed with red.

  Before Marzi could respond, a knock on the door echoed through the room. As Rys opened the door, Rintaur strode in. “Excuse the late hour of my visit, but I would have a word with Marzi, if you please.”

  Chapter 53: Tovi

  Tovi watched as Klunk coiled a long strip of leather with a loop on one end. Papaw had returned to the mine, and, as promised, Klunk was about to set out to get his pet. The two had not talked about Tovi’s helping. And yet, here he stood, pack on his back, beside the ogre. “Where do we need to go?” Klik sat perched on his shoulder as if ready to give directions.

  Klunk strapped his pack closed. “The mountains, there.” He pointed in the direction opposite the rising sun. “That is where we find the rock dogs.” He shouldered his bag. “We move now.”

  Three other young ogre boys had gathered outside one of the huts, watching the preparations. As Klunk and Tovi moved across the kraal, a burst of laughter erupted from the group. “Ha ha. Klunk is ready to go out and beg for a pet, finally.” The smallest of the group gestured with his hands toward the west as he chortled.

  “But he’s already got a pet. See? He has a rat.” More laughter.

  “Maybe the rat will help him get a real pet.” The howls of delight rose to the sky.

  “Ha ha. And look. The rat’s got a pet too—a squirrel.”

  “No doubt a fearsome squirrel. Can help him catch big prey.” The three ogres had fallen on the ground and were pounding the dirt as they guffawed.

  Klunk strode over and stood before them, hands on his hips. “This is no rat. This is Tovi. And yes, he will be my first hand. He is smarter and braver than any of you.” His words came out as a defiant shout. He glared at the three as if daring them to stand up. “And my pet will put yours to shame.”

  The chortling ogres ignored him and continued to delight in their taunting.

  Klunk gestured with his head. “Come. We are wasting our time with these.” He turned away from the rising sun and began the march.

  Tovi fell in behind him, with a combination of fast walking and trotting to keep up. Klunk’s words hung in his mind—smarter and braver—no one had ever said that about him. He gazed up at the ogre’s back as they strode across the sand. He wondered if Klunk had really meant that or if he was just saying it in anger at the other three ogres.

  With the village behind them, Klunk slowed and turned his head to speak to Tovi as he trudged along. “When we get to the first pool of water, you will show me this crystal thing you spoke of.”
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  ◆◆◆

  Tovi sat against a palm tree and opened his pack. Taking out a few nuts, he popped two in his mouth and offered the other to Klik. “I won’t show you with Klik, since he’s already tame, sort of. We need to do it with another small animal, maybe a hare if we can see one.”

  Klunk took a bite of dried meat. Chewing and nodding at the same time, he followed with a gulp of water. “Plenty of hares around here. They stay for the water and the plants. We make a lot of noise, so they all hide now. But maybe they come out if we sit quiet.”

  Tovi stood and walked over to a patch of leafy plants. Moving the leaves aside, he inspected the ground around them—the memory of the snake flooded back. Seeing nothing, he reached down, grasped a plant by the stalk near the ground, and pulled. “We can trim this up and lay it around in pieces. Maybe they’ll come out for food.”

  “Maybe.” Klunk took another drink of water and leaned his head back against the tree.

  After Tovi wiped the carod off, he trimmed it up with a small stone knife that Klunk had given him. Setting the pieces on the ground a meter or so around them, he fished into his pack and retrieved the blue shard. Holding it up for the ogre to see, he eased over and sat next to him. “We just need to wait for one of them to come out and nibble on the food.”

  Klunk shrugged but said nothing.

  Barely a few minutes had passed when a bush across the clearing rustled. An instant later, a tannish-gray head with large ears emerged followed by the hare’s body. It shuffled toward a piece of vegetable for a few steps and then stopped, furtively glancing around. Then another few steps. When it reached the carod, it bent its head down, all the while dividing its attention between the food and the two beings sitting back against a tree.