by Andrew Elgin
On the fourth day, he arrived at Luck, his food virtually gone. It was as small as Meldren had intimated, no more than a handful of houses scattered around a central large tree growing beside a pond of clear, cool water. The usual jumble of fields seemingly appearing out of the land, and the faint smell of cooking fires were the signs he was nearing it.
Arriving at the tree, he rested and looked around. It was so quiet that any herd of gorries would have been obvious. Meldren was not there. He had expected that, but still, it was saddening. However, he realized that he had been traveling much more quickly than she would have done and had covered the same ground in a day less than she had said it would take. The gorries would have slowed her down. The thought gave him hope.
His first concern was food. He doubted that Luck boasted a place for travelers to eat and rest. He had no money anyway. He looked around him and chose a place at random and decided he would see if he could barter for a meal. After all, as Torrint had once told him, he had a story to tell. Also, he could wash dishes if nothing else. And it was likely that in a place this small everyone would have known of Meldren and could help him find her.
Feeling unsure of what to say or how to say it, he approached the house. Like the others, it had weather-stained walls, a battered-looking door and a couple of small windows. Some plants were using the wall by the door to support their efforts to reach the roof which leaned down to provide some shelter. The mix of fronds, branches and plants from which it was constructed made it look alive. He knocked and called out, "Hello?".
The door opened and a woman with a weather-beaten face peered at him, and then smiled broadly. "Come in, come in!" She beckoned him inside. "I've been waiting for you to come. Thought you might have been a bit earlier than this. But you're here now."
Javin felt obscurely guilty at keeping this woman waiting and wanted to explain to her why he was so late. Catching himself, he realized that he had not been surprised when she had said she was expecting him. That was stranger than the guilt. He ducked through the narrow doorway. She gestured him to the table and the stools there. "Sit down. Please. You're probably tired and hungry? Thought so. Let me get you something." And she bustled around gathering bread and plates and fruits and smoked meat, dipping a mug of water from the barrel under the window.
Placing them before him, she sat herself opposite Javin and smiled broadly at his confusion, her browned face full of wrinkles.
"She said you might be in need of some help. She asked us to keep a look out for you. Meldren, that is. The girl with the gorries, yes?"
Javin nodded. "Meldren. Yes. I'm looking for her. But..."
"Oh! I'm sorry!" She stood and touched her forehead in the salutation Javin was becoming familiar with. "Narlaveena Sallantay. Greetings and welcome."
Javin nodded in his turn and stood to introduce himself. He was becoming less self-conscious with the formality. "Javin Sarnum. Thank you for your hospitality."
Narlaveena beamed at him. "Most call me Narla." She nodded at the food. "Now eat! Then we can talk, hmmm?"
So Javin ate, after first offering some to his hostess. She declined, seemingly just content to watch him, her eyes twinkling. Very quickly, the food disappeared. When the last crumbs had vanished, Narla said, "I suppose you want to know where she went?"
"And how long she's been gone. I -- I had an accident. In Sweetwater. My head. I was in bed for a long time and the healer, Della, looked after me. That's why I could not come before this. I really wanted to come, but it was not possible. In fact, Della did not want me to come. She said I was too weak. But I made it!" He smiled a little. "And I'm sorry if you were worried about me."
Narla dismissed that with a careless waft of her hand. "I knew you would come. Not that I can 'see'. I can't. It's more like a feeling of the future. When I thought about you, I got a good feeling. So I knew you would be here sometime. And, as today got closer, so the feeling got stronger. Then you turned up and," she shrugged, "and, well, that was it."
"Have you known Meldren long?"
"Can't say I know her at all, really. She comes through here maybe once a year, or every two years, stays about a day or so and then moves on. Takes longer than that to know somebody. No, I just know of her."
"But why...?"
Narla grinned again. It seemed a semi-permanent state of her face by the way the wrinkles flexed. "Why look out for you? Why help her? Why not? Plus she left some trade to pay for your food. Not that I'm keeping it." Here she turned to take a small pot from the window ledge and gave it to Javin. "It's all there. You can tell her when you give it to her. It was sweet of her, but not necessary. She was worried about you. So she asked for help. We are giving it. That's all there is." It was obviously that simple to her.
"So I could have knocked on any door at all and everyone would have known who I was?"
Narla rubbed her neck as she thought. "Well, maybe not Venchi, because he's a bit slower now and might not remember. But apart from him? Yes."
"And she gave everyone something for trading?"
"Goodness, no! She gave it to Hennick and Magalena just over the way. But everyone knew you'd be coming here, so Hennick, he gave it over to me to keep for you."
Javin was about to ask how everyone knew, but stopped himself because it would just be another example of the way people were here. He was beginning to accept it even if he couldn't understand it, so he just nodded, hoping it would look like something wise and insightful.
And so Javin found a warm welcome in this smallest of places. That day, one person after another arrived to meet him. Everyone had heard of how he and Meldren had been chosen by Harmony and they each wanted to hear all about it. He had experienced something that they all had only heard or dreamed of. He was, he realized, a celebrity. They saw Javin as their personal representative, the embodiment of their connection with Harmony. Prior to Meldren and him, there were only stories, only hints of what Harmony was. And now, here was someone they could talk with, who could tell them about Harmony in a way they would never experience themselves. He was their intermediary, their priest almost. And, as such, he was precious, and the time with him was precious also.
He told them what he could, trying to find words for it, some way that he could help them gain a new understanding. Each time he told it he felt he had failed. But the looks on their faces, some almost of rapture, made him think he had done better than he thought. They compared his story, their hearing of it, amongst themselves. They weighed it against what Meldren had told them. It fed them. In such a small place, there was only a narrow range of talents, but they were used to seeing deeper into what had happened, what was happening and what would happen. Some just had a feeling, like Narla, stronger or weaker, according to the person. Others had visions, imperfect and not always under any obvious control. Still others wanted just to touch his satchel to get information that way but became confused with pictures of Della and Sweetwater. It made Javin think that perhaps the size of Luck mitigated against stronger talents. Everyone's needs were met and everyone was a neighbor. What need for talents here? But that did not stop the natural human need for inquiry, for novelty, for change to act as an excuse for exercising those talents. Above all, Harmony had been with him. How could that not fire their minds?
After everyone had heard Javin's side of the story, even old Venchi who needed details filled in again that had swiftly fallen through the gaps in his memory, Javin was given space and time as the villagers hugged the story to themselves. The first full day he was politely and tiredly telling and re-telling his tale, the next day he was silent and the atmosphere of this tiny place was lighter and filled with laughter and wonder.
The day after that, Javin prepared to leave.
"You can't really get lost," Narla told him as he sat at the table in the sunlight from the window, enjoying a hot, sweet stew she had made. "There's only the one path. You follow it a way until you meet a river. The Green River. It's wide. You can't cross it there. You'll see.
Follow it along downstream. Not upstream. Downstream. Follow it far enough and you'll come across Meldren or, if she's gone on, you'll come across a town. Big place. Much bigger than this. Called Arlen." She paused, eyes screwed up as she silently probed the world around her. "I get the feeling that Meldren might be waiting before that." She looked at Javin. "I can get others to see if they can be clearer for you?" She cocked her head, waiting.
Javin dismissed the idea with a smile. "Thank you, but no. I'm sure it will be easy to find her. I guess if I don't find her, then I ask again in this town. Arlen is it?"
Narla nodded, a more serious look on her face. "Problem is, Arlen's a big place."
"How big?"
This time, she scratched under her chin as she thought, her face screwed in concentration again. She took a small jar of seeds down from a shelf and carefully poured some in her hand. She counted out some on the table, muttering the names of her neighbors as she did so. "There," she said, pointing at the cluster of seeds with her stubby, work-roughened fingers, "That's us. Luck. And Arlen is...," and here she poured more seeds out, comparing them with the first pile. "That's Arlen." The pile she was pointing to was about three times the size of the original one. Javin studied them carefully, judging that Arlen was about half the size of Sweetwater.
"Have you been to Sweetwater?" he asked.
Narla shook her head. "Don't think anyone here has."
"And when was the last time you were in Arlen?"
"Maybe once? I was small and my father wanted to see a boat. Don't know why. He was like that. Taken with ideas. So we went. And we saw it was a big place. He saw his boat and came back and never bothered again." She smiled fondly at the memory and scooped the seeds back into the jar. "No need, you see? Everything we want is right here. I know it's small, but everything we need is either here or it turns up here. Look at you, for instance. Just us few neighbors and friends living here and yet the two people on this whole planet, on our Mother, the only two who have spoken with Her, whom She chose to speak with, the two of you came here." She replaced the jar and turned, beaming, back to Javin. "Now, tell me. If that can happen to us, why would we need to go anywhere else?"
Javin had to admit it was strange. "But doesn't Torrint, the trader, doesn't he come here?"
"Some years he does. Some years he doesn't."
That gave Javin an idea. He took out the small leather case into which he placed the trade items Meldren had left and put it on the table. "In that case, when he comes next, I want you, this whole village, to use this to buy and trade with Torrint. And it's my gift to you and to Torrint himself. He knows about me, but not the whole story. Not what I've told you all. Not what Meldren told you. He only knows that Harmony came to me in a dream. So this," patting the leather, "this is my repaying him for what he did for me." He looked up at Narla. "Will you do this, please? Accept this gift and buy something fancy. Something you don't need. Something that will remind you of this time, of Meldren and me?"
Narla's face broke into another huge smile. "Nobody here needs reminding of this." She tapped her head and then her chest. "It's inside us. Always will be. Can't not have it with us now. But, yes, I will take it and keep it for us all here. I will tell them and we will decide what to buy." She opened the leather case and placed the items on the table, stirring them with one finger. There were, Javin noticed, a couple of small blue credits. There were some beautiful small shells of a brilliant orange as well as several tiny pieces of gold in amongst the other items, such as odd-shaped seeds and small, carved stones. "I have no idea what this amounts to, but it is more than we have now." She bobbed her head quickly. "So I thank you. You and Meldren."
Javin felt glad to have done it. "I'm going to leave tomorrow. Do you know how far it is to the river?"
"Green river is, oooh, maybe three days?" She frowned. "Actually more like," and she started counting on her fingers. "I forgot about the hills. And then there's the long path..." she muttered to herself. She looked at her hands and held up both to Javin, fingers spread and flashed them once. "Probably more than this. It's been a long time. But you can't get lost."
Javin found himself smiling at her certainty combined with her vagueness. Then he recalled what Meldren had said, the day they parted. "One thing, though, before I leave. Why is this place called Luck?"
Narla laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "After what's happened here, to us, can you think of a better name?"
Chapter Twenty-Four
The following day, Javin said his farewells to each of the people there who wanted to wish him well one last time and also to pass on their thanks for the gift.
Hitching his satchel, now filled with offerings of bread, nuts, seeds and fruits as well as spare clothes, a sewing kit and any other small useful items they thought would be of use, he left Luck behind him as the sun rose in the clear sky and the cool night breeze eased and the air became still.
Although the path was little used, it was plain to see; a depression following the simplest route. Easing around rocks, following the downhill slopes, skirting small groves, avoiding the boggiest ground; it was an easy walk for him now.
As before, water was plentiful in ponds and rivulets. The satchel weighed more now than when he had left Della and he needed to switch shoulders with his blanket every so often.
At what he judged to be midday he stopped to have a bite to eat and to take a fresh inventory. After doing so, mindful of Narla's estimate, he was doubtful of reaching Arlen before needing to resupply himself. Therefore, he determined to keep his eyes open for fresh foods he could use to eke out the generous provisions he had received.
As he continued to walk, his legs beginning to feel like they could stretch longer, move more easily after their rest, so he found the music sliding into his head again. It was similar to the music he had heard with Meldren. Similar, but not the same. He thought, perhaps, that it was his mind making up for the peace of the countryside and filling it with something familiar. So he hummed along with some of it, whistled snatches of it here and there, even sung to it, making up sounds as he went. It was an activity which passed the time and which made him feel surprisingly good. Doing it made him forget to keep an eye out for food, however.
By the time evening came and he was searching for somewhere sheltered and near water, he was annoyed at his failure to be more alert. But, looking at the horizon and the silhouette of the hills ahead of him, he was surprised at how far he had traveled. What had been a low smudge of purplish ridges in the morning had become clearer, sharper mounds with trees and bushes clearly outlined against the sky. And he didn't feel as tired as he thought he should have.
That night he dreamed of Meldren again, seeing her clear blue eyes and enjoying her smiling at him. The music filtered into and out of the dream, acting almost as a backdrop to it. He woke feeling refreshed and eager to get going. The surroundings caught his eye. They didn't look quite the same as when he had arrived. He thought that the hills had been more distant. But here the trees were close enough to see individual branches, and the slope of the hill started only a few paces away. He put the confusion down to the previous night; his tiredness and the darkness which had presented him seeing such details. He splashed some cold water on his face, chewed on some bread, which still tasted surprisingly fresh, shrugged the carrying straps into a comfortable position and made a promise to himself to be more alert today and harvest some food as he traveled along.
By the time he stopped for a midday break he realized that he had, once again, failed to keep his promise. The music he had sung and whistled and hummed had kept all his attention all morning. So it was that he chose to leave the path and make for a nearby grove or thicket of some kind of bushes, in the hope that he would find something edible there and assuage the guilty feeling he had.
He tramped up the hill, keeping his eyes open for anything which looked even slightly edible. Soon, he was in the grove, peering up amongst the jagged fronds with their irregular bursts of flowe
rs, or were they fruits, but without any luck. He sat down and decided to eat his meal there and find water later. As he was chewing on some nuts, he felt as though he was being watched. He glanced around surreptitiously but could find nothing to explain the feeling. It didn't feel like a threat, but he wanted to find out what it was, nevertheless.
Standing up and hitching his load into place once more, he made a more thorough investigation. He could see clearly between the trunks which were themselves too spindly for anyone to hide behind. He turned his attention to the canopy above, wondering at one point about those cats Torrint had referred to, and whether they lived in trees. But he didn't feel like he was being hunted. Not that he could have explained to anyone why that was so.
About to give up and turn downhill again to the path, his eye caught a brief sparkle from a frond. It had not rained, so he was sure it was not moisture catching the sun. Nearing it, he noticed that the leaves where he thought the sparkle had originated from were subtly different. Not quite the same color. Not quite the same shape. But almost like them. Similar enough that a casual glance would not have marked them as different. By following the shades of color of the 'wrong' leaves, he discovered a camouflaged creature. What it was he could not tell. But, now he could see it, he saw that it had a long, slim body and that it was wrapped around the branch, and the sparkle had been its eye catching the light.
Javin was delighted by it. Something so carefully camouflaged, he wanted to see it more clearly. He slowly reached up to it, hoping somehow to coax it to where he could examine it more easily. The small head turned from side to side as if examining him, watching his hand. Once in a while, it opened its mouth, but he could see no teeth. And he felt no fear in reaching for it.
Making cooing noises, he was a handspan from touching it when it uncoiled from the tail-end and launched, or slid or glided or swam (Javin never could clearly recall how it moved) and coiled itself around his upper arm in such a way that the head and its bright eyes were at his shoulder, inspecting his face.