World Whisperer

by Rachel Devenish Ford

CHAPTER 13

  "No," Jabari spat. "Just leave them alone." But Isika pushed past him and laid her hands on the man's head, imitating what Jabari had done. Some of the warmth inside her flowed toward him and she smelled roses in the air. The man stopped writhing and groaning. He smiled, stretching and looking up at her with deep brown eyes. He touched her face with one long, dusky hand. Then he closed his eyes and slept.

  She went to the woman, and this time Jabari didn't say anything to stop her. Isika was only dimly aware of her companions. The woman calmed as Isika's hands touched her, and she stopped pounding her head against the wall. This time the fragrance of a freshly peeled orange filled the room, something Isika knew because oranges were a rare treat in the Worker village. The woman slumped into Isika's arms and Isika lay her gently down on the bed, where she curled like a scroll bug. Next, Isika walked to the children and touched each of them on the head. They didn't fall asleep the way their parents had. Life flashed back into their eyes and they laughed, the sound ringing out and the smell of mint filling the air. They began to play with a small toy, passing it back and forth between them.

  Isika stood up, gripping a chair with white fingers to balance herself. She was exhausted.

  Ben, Ibba, and Gavi stared at her. Jabari was lost in thought, gazing at the man who slept with his face smooth and untroubled. Ibba smiled at Isika. She scrubbed at the tears on her face with her fists, then sat on the floor to play with the two little children, one boy and one girl. Isika watched as Ibba showed them how to set up a small ramp so the ball would fly up when they pushed it. Isika felt as though she could sleep for a month. She walked to stand beside her brother, leaning her head on his shoulder. He put one hand up to touch her face. Jabari looked at her, then, still thoughtful. He lifted his hand and rubbed at the crown of his head absently. Isika had a question, though her voice was weak when she spoke.

  "Why aren't the children more concerned about their parents?" she asked. "Why do they just… play?"

  Jabari's eyes snapped into focus, and she sensed that he wasn't frowning at her, but beyond her. He looked at the kids playing on the floor. They couldn't have been more than two or three years old.

  "They're recovering from the poison, like their parents," he said. "They are still confused in their minds, though they will recover. The parents rest their confusion by sleeping, the children by playing. It's a mercy, for the parents won't wake for a while, and I wouldn't want to be babysitter to distraught children."

  Gavi grinned. "A puppet show, like that one time?" he asked, and Jabari smiled and shook his head.

  "What?" Ben said. "I want to hear about this."

  Gavi's eyes glowed, but a look from Jabari, he shook his head. "I'll tell you some other time. Just some fun from another seeking mission, when the parents didn't wake for around twelve hours." He laughed, then nodded to Jabari, and the two of them stretched the woman out on her simple bed, woven strings stretched across a wood frame. Gavi put a sheet on her.

  "We'll stay until one of them wakes," Jabari said. He placed his hand on the woman's head one more time, and she sighed in her sleep.

  "I'll warm some broth," Gavi said, patting the metal container that he always carried over one shoulder. "They'll be hungry."

  Isika lifted her head from her Ben's shoulder and looked at him. He gave her a gentle smile.

  "What did you go and do, Isika?" he asked, and she laughed, but it turned into tears. She put her head back on his shoulder and he reached up again and patted at her hair.

  She felt restless and sick, pulled from the inside again, but she was too weary to follow the tugging. Ben squeezed her shoulder and said, "You should sit, don't you think?" but the pull was becoming stronger. It was so strong Isika was sure she would vomit if she tried to ignore it. She shook her head.

  "I'm going to get some air," she said, her voice faint. It was coming from outside.

  Jabari pulled out a game of painted stones and tiles, barely looking up as she passed.

  "Ben!" she heard him call behind her. "Come. I'll teach you while Gavi is playing nurse."

  "Playing?" Gavi said. "Tell me that the next time you need a nurse for a splinter in your foot." Isika smiled.

  The air outside the little house was warm and sweet. A light breeze caressed her face. She looked at the new view from the house that had no walls. She had done it, and yet she wondered at a people who had so few defenses. The tugging oriented itself and pulsed through her. It was coming from a large tree that stood beside the barn. She sighed with relief. Not another wall, then. She smiled and walked into the wide field next to the house, following a path to the tree.

  This one wasn't snake-limbed, but a large, towering tree with strong limbs and small leaves. The bark was smooth against her cheek as she leaned into it. Warm, solid feelings of safety coursed through her. She sighed and let her body go limp. The air hummed with light and color as she closed her eyes and let all the fear and tension drain out of every part of her. The tugging continued, though she wanted to stay in that spot forever, and she sighed again and began to climb.

  As soon as her feet left the ground, the tree's hum increased and flowed through her. Light and peace surrounded her, and as she reached a wide branch, she lay back on it, stretching her whole body along it. She looked at her feet, her crossed ankles, and her toes, dark against the light bark of the tree. Closing her eyes, she felt the exhaustion draining out of her muscles and bones.

  The deep, deep understanding of the tree surrounded her. There were lights behind her eyes, and though they were shut, she could see the form of the tree, outlined in what looked like stars. She looked out into the stars and sensed a great warmth from the sky beyond. It was nothing like the lidless stare of the goddesses in the temple, or the slight warmth of a hug from Jerutha. It was more like the Othra, but bigger, deeper, and it went on forever.

  She didn't know how long she lay there. Shapes moved and scenes came to her again. A man on a wall in the desert, shouting and sending a charge of horses; a thin woman walking in the desert with small children trailing after, another child on her shoulders; a man with kind eyes and markings of paint on his face; that girl in the street again. She saw Kital in a boat, surrounded by the huge jumping fish, and her eyes flew open. Kital!

  She lay there for a moment, reluctant to leave the tree, but longing for her brother overcame her, and she clambered down the tree and walked back to the house through the field. The light had changed. It was afternoon; she had been gone a long time. Everyone had gathered in the front yard. Benayeem had his hand shading his eyes, looking in her direction. He saw her first, and grinned, his smile appearing and disappearing in his face in a flash of white teeth. The man and woman of the house stood on the porch with Jabari, nodding as he spoke to them. Isika saw that they looked well. The woman wore a simple tunic over wide pants. She had wrapped a scarf around her head, and as Isika approached, she held out her hands. Isika took them, looking into the woman's brown eyes. She had freckles scattered on her dark cheeks. She was young, maybe in her mid twenties, and she smiled at Isika with kindness in her eyes.

  "Thank you," she said, and beside her, Isika saw Jabari scowl. He whistled and wandered over to his pack, heaving it onto his back in one motion. Isika ignored him, or tried to, as she smiled back into the woman's eyes.

  "I'd like to come back and visit you one day," she said.

  "You will be welcome if you do, Protector," the woman said. Isika nodded.

  The couple thanked them again and again as they left, pressing small brown rolls of bread into their hands for the road. Isika accepted gladly—she was ravenous, though it didn't seem possible that she could be hungry again. She had eaten more in these two days than she had in the whole week before, yet her stomach roared for food. She nibbled at the bread as she walked, and felt the rich bread, full of nuts and seeds, take the edge off her hunger.

  The tension in the air was something you could touch, Ben thought, trying to shrug discomfort off. They
walked without much talking. Ibba jumped from stone to stone on the grassy sides of the road, oblivious. Gavi sang a song about eating at the end of a long day and Ben couldn't help smiling as he listened, though worry gripped his stomach.

  The situation at the house had nearly overcome Ben. First there had been the sickening waves of wrongness and terrible music coming from the house at a distance, followed by the thunder crashes of wild joy he heard in the air as Isika pulled the walls down.

  Watching her then, understanding breaking over him, he was shocked by what he heard. When Jabari shouted at Isika, Ben wasn't alarmed—he knew in his core that she was doing the right thing. Then, while she healed the family, waves of song had echoed around the room, though he was the only one who could hear it. The music had made him tremble, and determination to protect his sister filled him. She had taken the wrongness and sickening sound out of the house, she had destroyed it. The song of joy had come after she had torn the walls down. The doom bells had ceased—she had restored the center of things.

  She could make a place transform from torment to peace. For the first time, he felt hope, a way out that wasn't running or hiding. If he kept her safe she could make things right, and in the meantime, keep him from going crazy.

  After about an hour of walking, the little group stopped beside a well to refill their water flasks. They were surrounded by fields of grain, swaying in the afternoon light. The sky was very blue.

  For the first time since they left the house, Jabari turned to Isika and spoke.

  "That was incredibly foolish," he said.

  "It turned out well," she responded. Her words were clipped and hard. Jabari's eyes darkened.

  "It might not have," he said. "Don't go ahead again. Stay with the rest of us. You need guidance."

  She stiffened and pulled her head up so she was tall and imposing, as much as she could be, anyway, when Jabari was half a head taller than her.

  "I'm not promising you anything," she said. "I'm not a child, that you can tell me where to go or who with."

  "Really? Then stop acting like a child. Don't you get it? You could have killed them!" They stared at one another, and the hairs on Ben's arms stood on end. He didn't know what to do.

  "Do you think Isika is a Healer?" Ibba asked in her little high-pitched voice. They turned to look at her as she shifted from foot to foot, biting her fingers. Ben stepped closer to her and took her hand. She looked up at him and took her other hand out of her mouth.

  He had noticed that they often forgot how young Ibba was; only seven years old, walking all day, watching them pull down walls. And here she was, in the middle of a stand-off, trying to make peace. She had been listening, the way she often did when he least expected it.

  "Yeah, Jabari," Isika said. "Am I a healer?" Ben cringed at the derisive tone in her voice. She didn't need to be so disagreeable. But he knew she was used to being rejected and put down, and she had grown a tough surface to deflect hurt. It was all she had known since their mother had died. And she had healed those people. He took a step forward.

  Jabari's nostrils flared.

  "No," he said shortly. "You have none of the characteristics of a healer." He gestured at Ibba. "Ibba does. She's probably a healer." His face softened when he looked at her, and he smiled. "She's kind, thoughtful, she listens, she makes others feel better. Those are the distinctions of a healer." He looked back at Isika, and his face hardened. "You're loud and you don't listen."

  Heat rose into Ben's face, and he took three large steps until he was standing beside his sister, glaring at Jabari, who looked back at him, surprised.

  "You know nothing about her," he said. His voice was low and menacing as he spoke with a fury he had never felt before. He pulled his staff from where it was tied on his shoulder and turned it to point at Jabari, conscious only of a long, tight anger that poured from his hand into the staff until it was hot in his hand. He was breathing hard.

  Isika's face was shocked. She put one hand over his on the staff, but his arm didn't waver.

  Jabari stared, his brows coming together into a sharp frown. "What are you doing, little brother? Are you trying to start a fight on my land? Do you think you could beat someone three years older than you?"

  Gavi stirred. "Jabari."

  "Gavi, these sweet puppies have no respect."

  Gavi cleared his throat. "Friends, we're leading you through our lands," he said. "We want you to listen to those who know more about the ways of Maween." He glanced at Jabari. "By those who know more, I mean me and Jabari, but especially Jabari."

  Ben felt a twinge of shame, but the anger didn't recede. "I want him to take it back. We have shown you deep respect. But I don't want him saying untrue things about my sister. She listens well, and you know nothing of us or our lives, where we've been or what we've been through. We haven't spent our lives traveling around, eating rich food and breaking weak walls. You may know these lands, Jabari, but you can't talk about what you don't know. Take it back."

  Jabari lifted his chin. "I may not know everything about her life, but I know she didn't listen to my warning about healing, and she leapt into a situation she knows nothing about. That makes her the most arrogant girl I've ever met." He turned to Isika. "You let that woman call you Protector when you've been in this land for two days!"

  Isika flinched, but she stood straighter and a familiar look came over her face. It was the same look she got when their father insulted her or beat her. Ben watched as she shoved the hurt far behind her eyes and made her face like stone. His heart hurt to see her that way and his fury grew. She had done right! Ben knew it. He had seen in, perceived it in the dancing, joyous song around her. And now, because of pride in his own gift, this boy, Jabari, had stolen her happiness. Far above, the Othra flapped their distress, circling.

  "Is that what's bothering you?" Isika asked. "Did she use a special word that you didn't like?" Her voice was like sharp steel. "I didn't ask her to call me that. You can have your beloved title. I don't want it."

  Jabari was furious. Ben could see anger boiling in him, and for a moment, he worried that Jabari would actually hit Isika. But he only spoke.

  "You could acknowledge that we picked you up when you were discarded on the shore, that we're helping you get to your brother in Azariyah. Instead you race ahead and play at magic like a little girl dressing up in your mother's clothes. You know nothing about what you're doing, but you leave us to clean up your mess."

  "You couldn't clean up my mess," Isika shot back. "I had to." She took a step back, her head still high. She looked at Ben, and he saw it, the droning sadness deep inside her. Her pain made him feel helpless. She looked as though she was climbing back into a shell, hiding from hurt. "You know what?" she said. "We don't need them to get to this city of theirs. We'll go on our own. I know we'll find it."

  "How will you find it?" Jabari asked, contempt radiating off him.

  "Really, Isika, how will you find it?" Gavi asked. He looked angry and distressed as well. "Do you know the way? Have you been here before? How did you tear down those walls back there? I don't understand."

  Isika shook her head. "I'm not answering any more of your questions. We'll go our own way, and I never want to see either of you again."

  Jabari laughed a short, angry laugh. "Fine then," he said. "Have fun, children." He turned and walked straight into a field of grain. Gavi gave them one last look, smiling sadly at Ibba before disappearing into the tall, waving stalks. Overhead, the Othra gave three long, mourning cries and flew off in the opposite direction.

  Ibba dissolved into tears and sat down on the path, sobbing into her hands as if her heart would break. Ben crouched to comfort her, his anger dissipating until all he felt was a deep, sickening gong in his stomach, beating a single rhythm. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jabari swung at stalks of wheat with savage strokes, making a path through the grain mindlessly until Gavi put a hand on his shoulder and he stopped, head down.
>
  "Sorry," he said.

  "It's okay. Just remember this farmer didn't do anything to you." Gavi turned and held his hand out. The stalks of wheat straightened and healed.

  Jabari growled, then turned and kept walking, this time taking care to slip between the rows of grain. His anger rolled out like a path in front of him, directing him so he saw nothing but Isika's stoic face as she mocked his gift and his title. She had torn those tall walls down without care for anything! For the people they protected, for the rules themselves, for the ones who took the risk of leading them through Maween. She didn't know anything of the other dangers that came from the Great Waste. If she thought walls were the worst of it, she was in for a nasty surprise. And then what kind of protector would she be? She wasn't even a protector! She was a visitor.

  And her brother! Holding a weapon against a friend was poison. The poison-landers were tramping through his land, bringing their demon magic with them, and he, foolishly, had left them to wreak havoc on defenseless farms and forests. He let out another frustrated groan, shaking his head. Behind him, Gavi was silent. He knew Jabari well and was wise to wait.

  They came to the end of the field and walked onto another road, parallel to the one they had been traveling on before they left the others. Gavi fell into step beside him.

  "Well?" Jabari said.

  "Well, what?"

  "I'm waiting for point one in the thousand ways I'm wrong."

  Gavi smiled and whistled a verse of their favorite dancing song. Jabari looked at him. His brother's face was the most familiar thing Jabari knew. The two of them were like twins; the same age, and had grown up inseparable. Jabari's family had taken Gavi in when he was just two years old and newly rescued. His parents thought it would be good for Jabari to have a brother, maybe to challenge him, since Jabari was already showing signs of being willful and a bit wild. It was true that Gavi often calmed him. His gifts for nourishing and healing were a good counterbalance to Jabari's protection. Jabari hadn't been spouting book knowledge when he had listed the attributes of a Healer. He had been describing his brother. But Healer though he may be, Gavi hadn't come into his full strength yet. The tall walls required the healing of a deeply powerful, deeply experienced Healer. But she had done it! How had she done it? He growled again.