by Dana Davis
“Where are the adults?” Henny said.
Several adolescent girls stepped from inside one of the partially fallen huts and scooped up the babes. Each wore a dress of grass and leather that looked an ill fit. Many had been mended with rough stitching. They watched the quest with interest and Adelsik noticed two babes with unfinished lips, as though they hadn’t formed completely before birth. All of these children had elongated heads and bone rings in their right earlobes. One girl had a tiny infant strapped to her back. The child’s head was secured tightly to a board with strips of woven cloth and it wailed.
“Wren?”
“Stay calm, Adelsik.”
Of course. Wren would have used the Energy awareness to find out more about these middlings. Why had she not thought of doing that? What was wrong with her? Lyssinya’s lessons must have made her addlebrained. She took in the Energy and awareness flooded her like a rapid, silken wave. Small heats came from surrounding trees, animals. Larger middling heats emanated from the village and she didn’t feel the cold touch of a large blade anywhere. No weapons. But she did feel something unusual. At the far side of the village, something flickered against her senses, a youngling. Impossible. She turned to face Wren.
“There’s a young—“ Finlor raised a hand to silence her. He focused hard eyes on her and she lowered her own. She had almost used the Gypsy term. “My apologies,” she uttered in a breathless voice. Any Gypsy in their fold would have sensed the youngling. Get your wits, Adelsik. Stop acting a fool child.
“Accepted.” Finlor seemed bit distracted.
By now, the children had gathered around them, several girls and boys caked with dirt and matted hair, all with elongated heads. Whereas the girls had bone rings through their right earlobes, the boys wore them in their left. All of the children wore tattered clothing, though some had been patched. The toddlers were naked. One of the girls, probably the oldest and no more than fourteen, said something in a sluggish language Adelsik had never heard before. It didn’t sound at all like the crisp Zark language she had become used to over the last few days.
Finlor stepped forward and the children backed up, eyes wide. Their gazes focused on Wren and several girls whispered something and touched their hair. Finlor motioned Wren ahead, and all but the oldest girl stepped back.
The girl held out her hand, palm up, flicked her fingers three times and uttered a something.
Wren eyed her. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
The girl furrowed her brow. “Food,” she said in a lethargic accent.
“You want food?”
The girl thought a heartbeat as though digging through her memories for something. “Want food? You?” She motioned them to follow and led the quest to a fire pit where three rabbits and several fish cooked on spits above the flames.
Many of the girls gathered around Adelsik and Henny, pointing to their hair and eyes. Each of these Guana children had brown skin and black hair like the Zark. Adelsik smiled and the girls giggled. The infant strapped to the older one’s back still wailed and she wondered if it had taken ill.
“I think we’ve been welcomed,” Finlor said in a low voice. “See if you can get us to the adults, Wren.”
Adelsik had felt them on the far side of the village with the youngling, still felt them because she hadn’t released the Energy. The heat didn’t bother her so much now, either, thanks to her gift from the Goddess. If only she could hold the Energy the entire way through these provinces.
No use wishing for what cannot be. How many times had Haranda told her that?
Wren stepped to the Guana girl again. “Where is your mother? Your father?” The girl didn’t seem to understand and Wren held her hand palm out to show size. “Adults.”
The girl motioned to the far side of the village.
“We need to speak with the adults.” Wren pointed in their direction.
The girl frowned but finally stepped aside and motioned the quest through. She didn’t make any attempts to lead them and no children followed. They stood near their cooking food and stared at the retreating quest.
Adelsik could hear the wailing infant as she followed her quest around abandoned and neglected huts. “Is that babe ill, Cousin?”
The stout Elder shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’ll take a look at it once we get information from these people. We have two days allotted here before heading on to Keive.”
The stink in the air became stronger as they approached several circles of adults. The smell of unwashed bodies and other things Adelsik didn’t want to consider found her nose. Many adults reclined on the grass, some leaned against boulders and tree stumps. None looked clean, as though they hadn’t bathed in many sunrises. Their clothes were tattered more than the children’s. Smoking tubes of wrapped herb were being passed around. That’s where another stench came from, and Adelsik didn’t understand how anyone could inhale such atrocious herbs much less be close to them.
She concentrated on her awareness and tried to sift the youngling out of the small groups. There were three young men in one of the clumps of reclining bodies. The youngling was one of them. As she focused her eyes in the bright sunlight, she thought she saw the faint outline of a footprint but couldn’t make it out at this distance.
She leaned toward Wren. “He’s there. A young one.”
“Yes. We’ll need to separate him.”
“What’s wrong with them?” Henny said just above a whisper.
Finlor cursed under his breath. “Dreamweed.” He warned them not to venture too close to the smoke.
Adelsik knew that name but it didn’t come clear to her yet.
“Why would they smoke that?” Henny’s wide eyes made her look younger than her eighteen years. “Dreamweed is highly addictive, isn’t it, Cousin Finlor?”
The stocky man nodded and flicked a worried gaze at Wren. “The young one is at risk. Wait here.” Everyone obeyed his order and watched as he made his way toward the nearest group of giggling and writhing adults.
Several had paired off and were doing what should be done only behind a closed bedroom door, or in a brothel. Adelsik moved her eyes from them and saw Henny’s face redden. The youngling took to watching her feet.
“We’re visitors from afar,” Finlor said, as though nothing here bothered him. “We would like to trade.”
That got a round of laughter from the Guana. One very skinny woman drew herself up with great effort and staggered to him. “Trade. No,” she said in the sluggish Guana accent. She shoved a smoking stick of wrapped herbs into his hand. “Smoke. Trade later.” She swaggered back to her group and fell onto a man, who was quick to grope her, sending the others into laughter again.
Finlor walked back to the quest. “They’re of no use.” He pressed the smoking end of the wrapped herbs onto a rock to put it out. Then he moved next to Wren. “Perhaps we can separate the young one. If he hasn’t inhaled for too many sunrises, I might be able to heal him.”
Wren and Finlor stepped to the group of young men. Adelsik couldn’t hear what was said but the men seemed to welcome them. Two nodded and laughed then stood and staggered toward the huts. The flickering in the awareness hadn’t moved. The remaining man was the youngling. He scooted from Finlor’s reach but allowed Wren to assist him to his feet. She walked him to Adelsik and the others. What surprised Adelsik the most was that not one adult seemed to notice or even care. Maybe Wren had used her urging Energy. But she wasn’t certain the woman could influence so many at once.
She took Henny by the arm and they followed Wren to the Guana children, some of whom had begun to eat the roasted rabbit and fish. The children offered them food and Finlor accepted. He ordered the cook to add their own rations to the meal.
“We should help them,” Henny said. Her eyes were on the adults.
Finlor grunted. “They’re beyond our help. They’re addicted to dreamweed. There’s little we can do.”
“But—”
The Elder raised a hand. �
��We have our own to worry over.” Wren led the new youngling to one of the more stable huts. “Keep watch,” Finlor said to the twins and they nodded in unison. He disappeared into the hut behind Wren and shut the grass door.
Adelsik hooked an arm in Henny’s and led her near two of the older children to sit. The girl didn’t protest. Tsianina and Gwen sat with them but Camlys and the others stayed on their feet with the guards. The Guana girls seemed very interested in the silver bangles that hung from Gwen’s braids and several touched her red hair tentatively. The new-oathed woman simply smiled at them.
Suddenly, Tsianina let out a curse. Just a short one, but the island woman had never used such language before, and Adelsik studied her with interest.
“What is it?” Gwen pushed her red braids behind her head and received giggles from the Guana children when they tinkled. She repeated herself when Tsianina sat staring at the wrapped herbs Elder Finlor had put out on the rock. When had she taken that? “Tsianina,” Gwen said with more force.
The island woman offered the herbs to Gwen. She had peeled the wrap open and dumped the herbs onto the ground. Gwen studied what was left of the wrapping.
Several heartbeats passed and Adelsik began to grow impatient. “Well?”
Gwen gazed at her and pushed the wrapping into her hand. There was writing on it, writing she couldn’t read. “I don’t understand.” Then she puffed out a noisy breath as she took in her two new-oathed sister’s gazes. “You mean—“
“Yes,” Gwen said under her breath. “The text.”
“Goddess, help us.” She gazed at the burnt paper again. There was nothing save a few odd letters. The rest had burned away.
Henny held out a hand for the paper and she gave it to the youngling. The girl’s eyes widened then began to tear. “All this traveling for nothing.”
Wren walked up and Henny jumped to her feet. Several startled children retreated behind some of the hut remains but she didn’t seem to care. “Look, Cousin.” She shoved the paper at Wren.
The Gypsy’s brows went up as she studied the burnt remnant of text and she eyed the Guana adults. Then Wren took quick strides in that direction with Muroth or Murell on her heels. Words were exchanged, some Adelsik understood and others she didn’t.
Wren came back with reddened cheeks. “The idiots. They used it all for dreamweed. Burned every bloody scrap of the ancient text, except this.” One hand shook the paper violently.
“But how did they get it?” Gwen said. “I thought they were all shrouded?”
Wren’s lips made a thin line in her anger and she nodded. “I would wager my boots that youngling has discovered his sparking abilities. That’s the only way to break the shroud.” She made no attempt to quell any Gypsy terms now.
“You think he taught himself?” Henny said.
“No. Most likely an accident. A very unfortunate accident.”
Finlor came out of the hut and Wren confronted him before he made it to the group. His face contorted in anger and his lips moved in what Adelsik guessed were several curses. The man had become increasingly edgy since they’d left the Land of the Goddess and this wouldn’t soothe his mood. He closed his eyes briefly and followed Wren to the rest of the kin. “There’s nothing more we can do here. We’ll leave as soon as the boy is awake. He’s strong, so I don’t think he’ll sleep much past night meal. However, he will have some problems from the dreamweed. I purged what I could from his blood and lungs but he’d been smoking for at least three days straight. I can’t take all of it away without putting him at risk and I can’t control the side effects of what I had to leave in him. And he’s been around the weed all his life.”
The infant had been somewhat quiet but now wailed as before, and the cook, Silbie, asked to take the child. The Guana girl didn’t hesitate and allowed the Gypsy servant to remove the child from her back. But when Silbie began to untie the wraps around the infant’s misshapen head, the girl stopped her with a dark hand and shook her head. She said something in her slurred language.
The babe’s eyes bulged and Adelsik wondered why these people would do such a thing to their children. Silbie gave a pleading glance to Finlor and the body-healer stepped to her. He placed two fingers on the infant’s throat and a hand on its elongated forehead and concentrated for several heartbeats.
“The wraps cause headaches for the child,” he finally said. “There’s nothing I can do for headaches.” He focused on the Guana girl then pointed to the wraps around the infant’s head. “These give pain.” He made a face and rubbed his temples. Then he started to untie the wraps but the girl snatched the infant from him. She uttered a few words and stomped toward the adults.
Henny snapped her head to the Elder. “You should do something, Cousin.” Finlor narrowed eyes on her, and Wren put hands on her hips but the youngling didn’t back down. “The babe is in pain. You can’t just leave it.”
The Elder leaned close. “We won’t interfere with customs that don’t concern us. The child isn’t in any serious danger.”
“It has pain, Cousin.”
“That doesn’t concern us either.”
Henny put fists on her slim hips and glared at the stout Elder, who wasn’t much taller than she was. “You can’t leave it to suffer just because it’s a middling.”
He leaned to her ear and said something that made her blanch then waved to Wren. The Gypsy took Henny by the arm and marched her into some trees. Adelsik averted her gaze when Finlor’s fell on her. The Guana children seemed not to care about the tension that pricked at Adelsik like a hundred biting insects. They went about chores and the younger ones sat playing a game with some kind of pods as though nothing unusual had happened. They even ignored the Gypsy kin now. The hunters and guards began to pace the area and talk among themselves.
“Cousin Finlor.” Why did Adelsik tremble? She was kin after all and new-oathed. “Is there nothing you can do for them?” She motioned to the adults who staggered toward offered food from the children.
He thought for several heartbeats. “They’ve been addicted too long, probably for generations. I don’t have enough Energy to heal them all.” His gaze took in the expanse of the potent herb growing in the gardens, which looked much like oversized shrubs. “Even if we could destroy all the dreamweed, the side-effects would kill most. Any who managed to survive might have their senses returned, eventually, but that’s doubtful.”
Adelsik nodded solemnly.
Wren returned with a dejected Henny on her heels. The girl made apologies to Finlor and got the usual response that she’d been forgiven before Wren motioned her to sit. She wrapped her skirts around her legs and buried her face in her knees. A Guana girl, about four or five, sat near her and stroked her hair. Henny raised her head to look at the child then took her in her arms and snuggled her close. But the girl squirmed out of her grasp. She giggled and ran to the other children. Henny frowned at Finlor but averted her gaze when he turned his tiny eyes on her.
Adelsik felt for her former clan sister but in her opinion, Henny always had too much sympathy for others, especially middlings. Though the wailing babe caught at her gut too.
They had nothing to do but wait so Finlor ordered them to search the huts, the fire pits, and anyplace else they could think to look for another text. There had been no mention of more than one text in this entire area. Finlor probably wanted to keep everyone busy, especially Henny. He and Wren questioned the Guana in hopes of finding out where they got the text from in the first place. Of course, the search turned up nothing and the Guana adults had so rattled their brains with dreamweed that most couldn’t carry on a lucid discussion, even in their own language. Some of the children were slow in the head, though none smoked the dreamweed, not that she had seen.
The kin ate night meal with the children, and the newest youngling slept longer than Finlor had anticipated. Once he awoke, he spoke a few words in the trade language, like the eldest girl. He gave them his name, Har’guana, but all he wanted after that wa
s dreamweed. He tried to get to the herb and screamed when Finlor had him restrained. The other adults seemed not to notice or else they didn’t care.
Adelsik took a straw mat, one of the few not infested with bugs, and lay in a hut with part of a wall missing. She could still see Sun Mountain over the trees in the distance and took comfort in that sight. She looked forward to taking Wren to confront Lyssinya. Without hesitation, she calmed her mind the way Wren had taught her and willed herself into the false sleep that took her to the Netherworld. She stood on a brightly colored Sun Mountain, as per Wren’s orders, in her new-oathed Gypsy dress, a scroll tucked into her belt. Of course, she had never been on top of the mountain, only seen it from a distance, but this was what she imagined it would look like.
She glanced at everything around her, thankful she could remember her recent confrontations with Lyssinya. The Sage woman had better not expect Adelsik to call her Mother Atan anymore. She wouldn’t. While she waited for Wren’s cactus to find her, she studied the numerous dream bubbles that drifted by. Surely, Lyssinya’s was among them, though all the ones she could see were middling dreams.
Wren’s otherself appeared without the Goddess nimbus around her. She wore her Gypsy dress and the wooden brooch carved with her name fastened to her bodice. It was carved in the same language as those in the dome but Adelsik could read it now.
“Can you find this Sage Lyssinya?”
Adelsik frowned at Wren. “I’m not certain. She said she wouldn’t allow that but she’s been coming to me for the last few nights.”
“Well, she won’t expect you here in this memory dream of a mountain. That should deter her for a while. You said her print is a silver cloud?”
“Yes. What does that mean?” She hadn’t memorized her new-oathed scroll and didn’t remember getting as far as the section on footprints.
“A cloud represents protection and life. Silver is wisdom.”