The Bitter Taste

by Leanne Fitzpatrick

  The Bitter Taste

  Leanne Fitzpatrick

  Published by Leanne Fitzpatrick at Smashwords

  Copyright © Leanne Fitzpatrick 2015

  Visit my website at www.leannefitzpatrick.co.uk

  Smashwords Edition v1.0

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

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  The Bitter Taste

  No light showed from under the door when Yau woke to the careful noises of someone trying to make no sound at all. She rolled away from the wall and peered into the darkness.

  “Tepil?” she whispered, “what are you doing?”

  “Shh, go back to sleep sister. I am going to the lagoon to fish. This is the best time- the dawn is a while off and the fish are drowsy.”

  Yau pushed herself up and lit a tapered candle. Soft, orange light pooled around her, accentuating the shadows.

  “Is that wise?” she asked as she watched her brother kneel at their altar and make his sacrifice. “It is already the season for sea maidens- they will be violent during their laying.”

  “Do not worry little sister. I am not so foolish to go alone or leave the shore. Amoxtl joins me.”

  “I don’t like it,” Yau said. “The gods are capricious, and you take too many risks.”

  He crouched down in front of her and ruffled her hair as he smiled.

  “You worry too much, little mother hen. Life is worth the risk, and the fish are at their best this time of year.” He kissed the top of her head. “I will be safe. I swear it to you.”

  Yau glanced at their altar and then back at her brother before nodding.

  “You have food for the day?” she asked at last.

  He nodded. “We will come back when the sun is at its highest. We will feast tonight.”

  Yau nodded again and shifted position to rest on her knees. Tepil rose, fastened his tilma around his throat and swung his small pack over his shoulder.

  “Be careful,” Yau said at last. “There is something wicked in the air.”

  He smiled again, looking down at her.

  “You have inhaled too many of the healers' potions,” he said affectionately. “You are seeing omens in everything.”

  He crouched down again and, with his thumb, rubbed the crease from her brow.

  “Do not worry- I will be fine. I promised you I would not leave your side. Now, smile for me, or I will be fishing with a heavy heart.”

  She smiled at last; hesitant at first, but his teasing soon banished the foreboding from her chest.

  “Be gone with you,” she said at last, pushing his hands away. “And make sure you bring back food fit for the gods.”

  “As you wish; little sister.”

  He left the hut and her frown returned. She stared after him for a few moments and then moved over to the altar.

  She placed the candle in its holder and stared at the depiction of the gods. The light flickered over the faces, glistening over the embossed features. The flickering light gave them the illusion of movement and Yau shivered, disgusted by them. She picked up the ceremonial knife and placed it in the sacred water, washing off the remnants of Tepil’s blood.

  Yau bent her head in prayer. She prayed longer and harder than she had in the last two years, squeezing out as much faith as she could- hoping it was enough. She picked up the knife. Water dripped from the obsidian blade. She pressed it to her right forearm and pressed, slicing through flesh.

  Her whole body tingled as she waited, then she flexed her hand and her skin separated enough to let the blood bead and then flow.

  She held her arm out over the gods’ mouth, listening to the drip of blood on stone. She whispered her prayers of safety, reciting them over and over until her blood finally clotted and the steady drip-drip of blood stopped.

  She drew back, still kneeling, until she heard the sounds of life in the village.

  She blew out the candle and when she turned there was a thin strip of greying light beneath the door. She rose to her feet and made her way out to her people.

  *

  The news came at mid-morning. Yau raised her head from the maize she was busy tending when she heard the shout. A breeze ruffled her simple clothing and she felt the knot in her gut twist a little more.

  When the wail began she knew in her heart shat her brother was dead. She dropped her tools and ran, through the corn stalks and back into the village towards the little school house.

  She pushed through the crowd, ignoring their protests until she came to the centre of the circle. Centehua lay on the ground, her sobs muffled only by the grass. Around her the people stood silent- even the children stopped their play. Two women came forward and tried to pull Centehua to her feet.

  “What has happened?” Yau asked the silent crowd. Her stomach felt as though it were trying to claw its way out of her body.

  “Amoxtl,” one of the men said, and when he turned to face her his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “We heard him shout, but when we got there, it was too late...”

  There was a feeling of something going thud in the back of Yau’s mind.

  “Tepil,” she said. “Where is Tepil?” she searched the crowd, looking for her brother’s familiar face. “Tepil!” she shouted.

  Someone grabbed her arm.

  “No, child,” the man said, pulling her into a sympathetic hug. “It was too late. The maidens had already taken him.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Amoxtl lived long enough to tell us. He fought them. Tepil fought them until they dragged him under and he couldn’t come back.”

  Yau stood in his arms, her entire body numb. She watched as the women finally managed to lever Centehua to her feet and lead her away. The grip around her loosened. The people began to move away. There would be no more work today. The priests would come to calm and pray with them.

  “No,” she whispered again. Her head buzzed with static- thoughts half formed and then flitted away without resistance. She fought against the emotions inside her. She wanted to throw herself on the ground and wail until her throat was bloodied tatters, she wanted to howl and curse the gods until they destroyed her.

  There would be no burial, she thought as she watched Amoxtl’s remains- wrapped in a shroud- be carried to his house. He would rest there while his soul detached itself and then he would be buried and his soul ushered to the underworld where he would rest. Tepil would not have that honour- without his body he would wander forever lost.

  Yau walked. It was automatic. She gave no thought to where she was going and paid no heed to those that called her name.

  There was ice in her veins now. She was numb to the pain of loss, to the anguish of being alone.

  She recognised obstacles in her way- the women who would help her grieve until the priests came. She did not register their faces and pushed past them when they reached out to stop her.

  She walked faster, lis
tening only to the pounding of her heart and the beat of her soles on the ground. Faster and faster, until she was running- out of the village, away from the people. She ran across the open land until grass became dirt and dirt became sand.

  She was neither surprised nor dismayed when she came back to herself and found she was standing at the shore, the warm saltwater lapping at her does, the wet sand cool beneath her feet.

  The water was calm- placid; a perfect mirror reflection of the blue sky above. Further out, past the rocks that rose like a god’s fingers, the water was darker and choppier. Dolphins frolicked there, rising out of the sea in graceful arcs. It made her sick to see them filled with so much joy.

  She fell to her knees, retching as the water lulled around her limbs. She curled her hands into fists, crushing the sand in her palm, feeling the tiny bits of grit force their way down her nails, compressing together and forcing skin away from nail plate.

  She cried; her tears finally freed were hot on her cheeks, dripping into the sea as she vomited up her breakfast.

  She sobbed- hard and hoarse as grief swept over her, engulfing her mind and purging her of rational thought.

  *

  She didn’t know when she had collapsed in the water, her body still shaking. The water was both salve and irritant as it pooled around her and then left her in gentle waves.

  She became aware of the silence- only the sound of water moving filled her ears. There was no birdsong or singing of crickets in the long sea grasses. She became aware of eyes watching her.

  She looked up. They were there- one of them within arm’s reach. Yau didn’t react, merely stating at them with the same intensity they stared at her.

  They were hideous- their hair hung in lank, tangled knots. Their skin was oily black and translucent like jellyfish. There was no emotion in their fish-eyes and when they opened their mouths, spindles and sharks’ teeth grinned at her.

  They made Yau feel sick, but there was something enticing about them. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch them.

  Slowly she pushed herself up to sit. The maiden closest to her grinned even wider. Yau stared into the black pit that was her pupil. It was ringed with the most beautiful yellow bronze colour, but they were dead eyes, filled only with hunger.

  “Come out of the water, Yau,” a voice said. “Don’t look away from them and move slowly- please.”

  Yau did as she was asked, never breaking eye contact with the sea maiden. The creature watched her, still smiling.

  Strong fingers gripped her arms and Yau finally broke eye contact with them. She heard their song start up in her head.

  “How long have you been down here?” the old woman that held her asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you hear their song?”

  “Yes.”

  “We must go. They know you to well- they will taunt you and call to you until you break. Their hunger is insatiable.”

  “I want to fight them, Nan. They killed Tepil.”

  “I know, my child, but I cannot let you stay here. Not now. Come with me.”

  Yau pulled back, but only half-heartedly. The grip on her hand was much stronger than the maiden’s grip in her mind. She allowed herself to be pulled across the beach and back onto the grass, away from the maidens and their sirens song.

  “He’s gone... What am I supposed to do now?”

  “You must endure, as we all must. The gods now our pain and we must trust to their plan.”

  “How much more pain to the gods have in their plan for me?” Yau asked bitterly.

  There was no answer as they walked, and Yaya allowed herself to be steered away from her hut and towards the healer’s hut that stood a little apart from the rest of the village.

  *

  Smoke hung in thick blue-grey wisps in the air, heavy with the scent of flowers and herbs. Yau ducked under it and made her way to her accustomed seat. She had spent most of her childhood in the corner, happily learning her craft; ready to be an important part of village life. She picked up her old rolling board, stained through with the juices from a thousand different leaves and fruits.

  “Seems like yesterday,” doesn’t it, Nan said. “Here. Drink this. You are exhausted and pale. You need to rest, and with sleep the heart and the body can heal.”

  Yau took the earthenware cup and stared into the dark liquid.

  “What is it?”

  “You should know,” the old healer said. “You created it.”

  Yau nodded and breathed in the steam. It smelled of fresh grass and flowers.

  “The priests will not be pleased, but I think you need this… for your own piece of mind.”

  Yau smiled and sipped at it, feeling the potion beginning to affect her from the first mouthful.

  She didn't fight it; she simply allowed herself to slip into the drugged slumber. She heard the clunk of the cup against the floor, and then heard nothing else.

  *

  She became conscious of someone humming. It was muffled and distant, but it was pleasant if a little discordant. There was heaviness to the sound that didn’t seem right to her current perception.

  Yau rose, twisting in her seat to face the room. Nan sat watching the fire. There was a damp sheen to her cheeks and Yau knew the older woman had been crying. The song she was humming was an old prayer. The words had been lost a long time ago, but the melody and the sentiment remained.

  Yau stood and walked over to her, lifting an ethereal hand to rest on the old woman’s shoulders. She wondered what would happen when her friend and mentor finally shuffled off the mortal coil.

  Yau lifted her hand, leaving her friend to her grief and she stepped out of the hut. She had a momentary impression of mud surrounding her, but it was a physical thing and no match for her walking soul.

  The world was dark- inky and midnight blue. The shadows seemed darker, deeper almost. There was no sound in this place between worlds and that brought a small comfort to Yau.

  She marveled, instead, at the movement of living creatures. Flashes of golden light in the air where bugs flew. Deep red entwined in gold for the people of her village. Even the ants on the ground glowed with a subtle yellow aura.

  She walked towards the village, already knowing where she was heading.

  She moved towards her hut. It glowed faintly with a deep blue aura, and she knew this was the colour of loss. She wondered if she had the strength to enter it. She thought she should feel something, and though she hesitated, her feet took her closer. She found she could feel nothing- no fear or apprehension- just a blank emptiness in her chest where emotions had once lived.

  She pushed open the door to her home. A figure stood lost and forlorn in the middle, shoulders hunched as he stared at the shrine in the wall, and Yau knew that it was right that he be there. She had known since waking up that she would find him here, wandering and lost.

  “Tepil,” she whispered, and pulled him into her arms.

  She stayed there with him, her cheek resting against his back for a long time, until at last he pulled away and turned in her arms.

  If she'd had a stomach, she would have thrown up. His flesh- what remained of it- was grey and bloated. His eyes were clouded and sagging in the sockets, and when he spoke, water dribbled from his mouth.

  “Yau, I’m so sorry. I broke my promise,” he gurgled, sea water gushing down between them. Yau flinched.

  “I know. It isn’t your fault. I should have stopped you.”

  “I’m lost, little sister, and I can't escape,” he said again. “Please help me- I don't want to wander lost forever.”

  “Where are you? Where did they take you?”

  “I don't know,” her brother moaned, the water staining the tatters of his clothes. “It's dark, and they come to taunt me- they know I am bound to my body- that I will have to return with the rising sun... they eat little pieces of me, one by one, knowing there is nothing I can do, that when they have finished, I will be lost and wandering for all etern
ity, unable to move on, and unaccepted into the afterlife.”

  “You need to tell me where you are, brother, otherwise I can’t get to you. I can’t help you.”

  He gripped her arms, the bones of his fingertips digging into her flesh.

  “Please, Yau, I can't wander around for all eternity. I need a burial. Please, find a way to save me. I need you.”

  She wanted to cry, to promise him everything in the world, and tell him he would be buried and safe once more, but there was nothing but static in her mind and the feeling of shadows moving into place behind her.

  “I- I'll try,” she said.

  He shuddered, and Yau heard the squelch of the sea in his lungs.

  “The sun is rising,” Tepil said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

  “Where is your body?” Yau asked.

  “In the deepest part of the lagoon- where the crabs always scavenge and the Maidens practice their singing. Will you come for me?”

  “Yes,” said Yau, “although I don't know how...”

  “Yau, listen to me... You were right. I should have listened to you. I thought my sacrifice before leaving would be enough, that the Gods would listen to my pleas and keep me safe, but it was a lie. The Gods do not care.”

  Yau nodded and sighed.

  “I know. I knew the day they took Mother and Father from us.” She held on to him, felt how insubstantial he was as the sun pulled at him. “I will help you find rest, my brother- and if I cannot, then I shall make sure I die so that you will not be alone for eternity.”

  He smiled and rested his head against hers for a moment.

  “Thank you. I'm sorry, little sister. I never meant to leave you alone.”

  “I know that, Tepil. I place no blame with you.”