by Ila Mercer
‘At least they get to lie down when they’re working,’ Madea said with a smirk.
Lita shook her head, barely smiling at the joke. ‘I’d rather rake out pig pens for a living.’
‘I’ll be sure to tell Senna Yaron. Maybe it can be arranged.’
Shortly after this Madea made room in her bed for Lita and pulled the blankets up to their chins. She leaned over and kissed Lita lightly on the cheek before rolling over and blowing out their bedside candle. Lita touched her cheek where Madea had pressed her lips. She could not remember the last time MaKiki had sealed the night with a kiss, and until that moment, she had not missed its absence. Now she wondered what it meant that MaKiki had stopped giving them. It had happened around the time of her first Change. Could it be that MaKiki felt differently after that? She had always been brittle, but long ago there was a time when she had allowed Lita to climb into her lap or hold her hand when they walked through a busy market place. And now she was nowhere to be found. Lita huddled deeper under the covers, as though she could escape this unhappy thought. Madea squirmed next to her, and Lita reminded herself that she was no longer alone. She had Madea now. And Madea had said she could be whatever she wanted to be.
But who did she want to be? It was a peculiar question, and one she had never given thought to before. Was it even possible to be other than what you already were? Perhaps Madea had meant that she could ignore the part of herself that was Beast. Just be an ordinary girl. It might be possible if she tried really hard. All she had to do was stay inside when the moon was out. Lock the door, close the curtains, huddle under the covers just as she was doing now.
But did she want to?
Sticks and Stones
‘Ten Beasts escaped the Pusselpot Mines,’ Senna Jogan announced over dinner.
The news sent a shiver of dread and happiness down Ari’s spine. It was good to know escape was possible and that his brothers still yearned it. Perhaps some of them would even make it home. For a moment he entertained the thought of running away too. It would not be so hard, for he was unguarded during the day, but he had given his word that he would not do that. Besides, if he ran away now, he would not have the chance to prove himself to Brother Sneet and his people would always be thought of as dull creatures who imitated men.
‘Two have been recaptured but the others are still at large,’ Jogan grunted as he carved into another slab of roasted lamb.
Worrel wanted to join the band of men who were chasing the escaped Beasts but Jogan would not allow it. ‘The hunter will find them,’ he said, pointing his butter knife at Worrel. ‘So there is no need for you to go charging around the countryside.’
‘I’ve heard there are Beast sympathisers in the West,’ a grim-faced visitor said.
‘I’ve heard that too,’ Katarin said under her breath so that only Ari could hear. ‘Maybe they will be lucky enough to find them.’
It was the first time she had said anything that indicated her true feelings on the matter. He had suspected, after all she was tutoring him, despite Worrel’s obvious disapproval. But now he wondered how deep her sympathies lay. It was not something he could ask though, especially with Mika always in attendance.
*
Ari stretched his limbs. He had been bent over his books all morning. There was just enough time for a stroll through the kitchen gardens, before Katarin came to tutor him. Every afternoon she came, straight after lunch, with Mika trailing behind with either a book or a basket of sewing. Katarin pushed him much harder than Lars had but Ari was beginning to feel that he was making progress. Earlier that day, he had read a children’s tale all by himself and he had identified every single word.
He wondered what tasks Katarin would set that afternoon. Yesterday it had been looking at the pairing of letters to produce common sounds. How confusing that had been. Just when he thought he understood a rule, Katarin showed him an exception to it. Sometimes it seemed to him that a complete absence of logic had been employed in the formation of the Drac language. His people’s use of signs was much more elegant.
As he paused at the garden gate, Ari noted that Yaron was playing in the sand under an apple tree. He wandered over and settled on his haunches, watching as Yaron repeatedly buried and then dug up a small doll. It disturbed Ari, but he did not interfere with Yaron’s task. Instead, he sat alongside Yaron and took out sticks and stones from his pocket and started to arrange them into various signs. After a few moments, Ari noted that Yaron had paused in his activity and that his eyes were intently focused on the signs that Ari had made.
‘This means there are yams under the soil. Do you know yams?’ Ari asked.
Yaron shook his head.
‘They are like a potato only sweeter. My people love yams.’ He changed the sign, with a few deft movements. ‘And this…’ he said, balancing a stick across two others, ‘means there is a bridge nearby. If I put a stone here like this… and then another stick pointing like that… it shows which direction and how far away it is.’
Yaron picked up some stones and sticks and copied the sign that Ari had just made.
‘Perfect,’ Ari said, when Yaron had finished.
‘How about this?’ Ari wiped the sand clear, placing three sticks next to each other.
Yaron copied.
‘You have just told me that there is danger ahead. What about this one?’ And he turned two of the sticks so that they crossed each other.
Yaron copied, his face serious and intent.
‘That is how we tell our friends which way we have gone. That is a good one to remember. When you go into the woods with the Jims next time, you can teach them that and then you need not fear getting lost.’
Yaron looked up at Ari. ‘Like this?’ he asked.
Ari’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Yes, exactly like that.’ He did not say anything about Yaron speaking, he did not want to spoil the moment.
Ari went on to show Yaron another dozen signs, and though the small boy did not say another word, he eagerly copied each one. After a while, Ari sensed another presence nearby and when he looked up, he saw that it was Katarin, watching with great interest.
‘I have to go now,’ Ari said, rising from the dirt. ‘But you can keep my rocks and sticks if you like.’
Yaron beamed up at him, as though he had just been given the greatest treasure in Dracodia.
‘I can teach you more signs later?’
Yaron did not respond. He bent his head over the sticks and stones.
I pushed it too far, Ari thought. But then he realized that Yaron was constructing new signs in the dirt. He smiled as he understood what Yaron was trying to say with sticks and stones.
Friend. Welcome.
*
‘What were you doing with Yaron? It looked complicated,’ Katarin asked when they were seated in the library. They were alone for the first time, and though Ari wondered where Mika was he would not ask. He was secretly pleased that they were unchaperoned for once. Perhaps it would give them a chance to be less formal with each other.
‘I was teaching him some signs that my people leave for one another in the forest.’
‘Signs?’
‘Like words made with sticks, stones, bark.’
‘You were very good with him, I noticed. Patient and gentle. He needs that. Lars tries but he gets frustrated and Worrel keeps trying to trick him into talking. He’s no fool, that boy.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘I want to hear more about these signs. Can you show me some?’
‘I could but I just gave Yaron all my sticks and stones.’
‘I think we have been cooped up in this library too long. What do you say to a lesson in the forest. I will teach you some words and you can teach me your signs.’
‘Won’t Sia Mika need to come along too?’
‘No, why would she?’
‘I thought custom might require it. You don’t seem to go anywhere without her. I thought maybe it was not allowed.’
Katarin laughed. ‘She’s no
t my keeper, if that’s what you mean. Though Senna Worrel would be better pleased if I stayed in the sewing room all day.’ She smiled, but there was an edge to her words. ‘Perhaps you are right though. It would look better if we had a third to come along. How about Yaron? He seems to like you and it would do him good.’
And so it was settled. Katarin went down to the kitchens and put together a basket of food while Ari returned to the kitchen garden and found Yaron under the same tree. The small boy, on hearing that he’d been invited on a picnic, quickly scooped up the sticks and stones and crammed them into his pockets. He was on his feet within seconds, marching out the garden gate.
Before long the three of them were strolling over the drawbridge. It was a perfect day. A light breeze followed them across the pasture, and the sun warmed their backs. Yaron took Katarin by one hand, and Ari by the other.
When they entered the forest, they were enveloped by cool shadows. From the forest floor fecund scents rose from the rotting bracken and blooming fungi. Sunlight leaked through the canopy, illuminating patches of ground, lighting up a leaf, sunning the mossy pelt that sheathed a tree. Yaron let go of their hands and bounded ahead.
‘Is this anything like your homeland?’ Katarin asked.
Ari shook his head. ‘My land is hot and dry. We do not need to wear as many garments as your people. This in itself makes our lives simpler. In the forest where I live, the trees do not grow straight, they twist and curve like the flames of a fire and they are not as … how do you say close together?’
‘Dense?’
‘Yes. They are not as dense, more spread out so that many grasses and bushes grow within the forest.’
‘You miss your home.’
‘I miss my family.’
They walked on in silence for a while. Yaron was nowhere to be seen, and Katarin called his name several times until Ari touched her lightly on the arm.
‘Look,’ he said, pointing to the ground. ‘He wants us to find him.’
‘Oh.’ Katarin leant over the arrangement of sticks and stones. She would never have seen it if Ari had not pointed it out. ‘Which way did he go?’
Ari knelt next to the sign. ‘I think he is telling us to go that way.’ Ari pointed to a small fork in the path, off to their left.
For the next hundred yards or so, they continued to find Yaron’s signs. Once or twice Ari thought he caught the sound of a stifled giggle and he knew that the small boy was not far ahead of them. He slowed his pace when he thought they might catch up, until finally they broke through a line of trees and found themselves in a clearing. On a boulder, near the bank of a shallow stream, Yaron sat with a smug look on his face.
‘That was very clever,’ Ari said.
Yaron beamed.
‘I’m starving, how about you boys?’ Katarin said as she plunked the basket on the ground.
Though he had not thought about it until that moment, Ari now glanced at the basket with misgivings. He had failed to tell her that he would not eat the flesh of an animal and he did not want the embarrassment of turning away the food she had carefully chosen. As it turned out though, he needn’t have worried.
She took out a blanket and shook it so that it flapped like a sail, then lay it on the grass. After that she took out three shiny red apples, a dozen dried apricots, a tin filled with hazelnuts, some bread rolls and a little flagon of oil. ‘I noticed you pass the meat at table,’ she said, as she drizzled some oil onto a torn roll and gave it to Ari.
After the three of them had eaten every last scrap, Yaron bounded down the banks of the creek.
‘Stay close,’ Katarin warned. ‘If you can’t see us, you’ve gone too far.’
Ari lay on his back, shielding his eyes with his hands. ‘I could almost go to sleep,’ he said.
‘I thought you were going to teach me some of your signs,’ she said.
Ari rolled on his side and propped his head on his hand, facing her. ‘Weren’t you paying attention before?’
‘When?’
‘When we followed Yaron’s signs here.’
‘Yes.’ She seemed affronted. ‘Well, no, not really. I mean, I didn’t take it in. I was enjoying the game.’
Ari reached into his pocket and pulled out several sticks, which he arranged into a sign between them. ‘What’s that?’
‘I don’t know. Go that way? No, um. I think… if you put it like this…’ and she rearranged the sticks into a triangle, ‘it tells you to go this way.’
‘See you did learn something,’ Ari said as he settled onto his back again. From nearby they could hear the plunk, ker-plunk of stones hitting water, and Ari recalled this had been one of his favourite pastimes as a child too. He did not know if he imagined it, but Yaron seemed a little happier today – as though the knot of grief had started to unravel.
‘Tell me about your family, I want to hear more,’ Katarin said, stretching out beside him.
Ari felt a little stab of pain with the mention of his family. In his mind’s eye he suddenly had a picture of his mother, his sister, his cousins, his aunt, his uncles and his granddam. Then the image wavered as he tried to hold onto it. ‘I have a sister about your age,’ he said. ‘She has three boys.’
‘And your mama and papa?’
‘My mother lives in our village, but my father does not.’
‘Where is he then?’
‘He is a forest dweller now.’
‘With others?’
‘Not with people. It is something that some of our people do when they have mastered Change.’
Katarin rolled onto her side to face him and Ari turned his head until his eyes met hers.
‘This Change… That’s the word you use for the change from man to Beast?’ She asked.
‘Yes.’ He had wondered if she would ask. Apart from Lars, the people of the Keep avoided this question – as if they were ashamed for him – and did not want to remind themselves of what he truly was.
‘And when you become… what are you?’ Her eyelashes fluttered a little, displaying her nervousness.
‘My token is the lion.’
She laughed with surprise, in the same way that Lars had. ‘A lion! I would like to see that.’ And then she looked away, perhaps embarrassed when she realised this was an impossible notion.
‘Your father then…’ she said picking up the thread of the early conversation. ‘Is a master of Change. What does that mean?’
‘He has chosen to live in his token form.’
‘But he is a man.’
‘He is a man who lives inside the body of a bear. He has given up his other life to be a part of the forest.’
‘Why?’
‘It is what my people are supposed to do – to live a simple life free from the things that fill us with …’ he searched for the right word. ‘It is like wanting.’
‘Desire?’
‘Maybe. This is the word you use for wanting? Anyway, most of my people only ever master a small part of the power. Like me for instance. I can only change into my token animal when there is a moon but there are some who can become any animal of their choosing, and a small few who become at will – whether there is a moon or not. Like I said, this is uncommon and often takes many years of study and practice.’
‘What is it like?’
‘What do you mean? When I become a lion?’
She nodded.
‘Impossible to say. Like nothing else. Perhaps one day, when I am free, I can show you.’
Katarin pressed her lips together tight. ‘I hate that they lock you away like a petty thief.’
Ari shrugged. ‘I am growing more used to it.’
And then, from further up the stream, they heard a high-pitched shriek. Both Ari and Katarin were on their feet in moments, bolting down the bank. ‘Where are you?’ Katarin called, but Yaron did not answer.
‘I think he is further along,’ Ari said, noting the soft indent of a sole in the mud. They scrambled over fallen logs and tangled roots. More than once Ka
tarin slipped as she tried to hurdle a log in her long skirts, and while Ari would have stopped to help her up, his concern for Yaron prevented it. Finally, he caught sight of the boy through a thicket. Ari felt a wave of relief. He would have hated explaining to Lars that his only son had broken his neck while climbing a tree or had drowned when he slipped into a deep pool of water.
Ari was about to call out to Yaron, when he caught traces of wild animal scent. Slower now, he stepped cautiously around the thicket. And when at last, he was on the other side, he saw the reason that Yaron had screamed. There, across the clearing, a wild boar hunkered down, ready to charge. Ari turned to Yaron and discovered at once why the boar had turned aggressive. In Yaron’s arms a small piglet writhed.
‘Put it down gently. The mother needs to see her piglet is safe. She won’t attack if we return her baby.’
At that very moment, Katarin stumbled into the clearing.
The sow stamped her foot with the sudden intrusion and tossed her head. Yaron, lost some of his grip on the piglet as it bucked and writhed in his arms.
‘Put it down, now,’ Ari said, edging closer to Yaron.
The piglet wriggled free of Yaron’s grasp and tumbled to the forest floor with a squeal. The sow, hair bristling on the nape of her neck, eyes wild with a mother's fear, charged Yaron with her head bent low into a battering ram.
Katarin shrieked.
In two rapid steps, Ari had scooped Yaron into his arms. The sow rushed at them, missing Ari’s leg by a whisker. Quickened by anger, she wheeled and returned for another strike. This time Ari was not as agile, and the sow caught him with a glancing blow. The impact unbalanced him, thrusting Ari and Yaron into a bush.
The piglet dashed into the undergrowth and the sow followed, crashing through the thicket.
Katarin ran to Ari; her hands shook as she gently peeled Yaron away. The small boy sobbed and buried his head in her hair. Once she was satisfied that Yaron was fine, she turned to Ari. Blood oozed from gashes all the way up his arms.
‘You’re bleeding,’ she cried. ‘Here,’ she said as she unwound the sash that clinched in her waist. ‘Use this to staunch the flow.’