by Moose Tyler
“Maybe Wanje?”
“What’s going on, Ursula? I think you’re mixed up in something that can get you in a lot of trouble. I haven’t told anyone, not Wanje or Mother. I told P, but that was it.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to talk to you.”
Ursula nodded. “Yes, you should have talked to me.”
“I haven’t seen you! You disappeared for a hundred moons, but now you’re back, so I’m asking. What is going on?”
She looked at Amaria for a few heartbeats. “I wish you would have asked Wanje. I’m sure she would have told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That she was giving your weapons to a group.”
“A group of what?”
“It’s like a club. Just some citizens, younger ones mostly. They want to help fight.”
Amaria laughed. “So, they’re training?”
Ursula looked offended. “Maybe they’re not as good as you, but they’re practicing.”
“They shouldn’t be running line through the Stalks and interfering with patrols.”
“They’re not interfering. Besides, Wanje gave them the weapons and encouraged them to train.”
Many citizens were good with bows and other weapons. They had to be for hunting, and there was even a Citizen Games during the Great Harvest, but no matter how handy with the bow, all citizens were taken to the Reserve during times of war.
Amaria scratched her head. “Why would Wanje do that?”
Ursula shrugged.
“Did she start this—club?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not really involved in the training part. Calandra just asked me to make her a cloak.”
“How did she get the cloth?”
“I can’t say.”
“You know it’s military?”
Ursula took offense again. “My boat didn’t arrive yesterday. That was when Wanje found out I think.” She scratched her eyelid. “She might have known already. I don’t know. She was in the galleries that day and stumbled on Calandra and I talking by Bears and Berries. You know that piece by Golds?”
Amaria nodded.
“Calandra was honest and told her what they were doing.”
“So, where did she get the cloth?”
Ursula ignored the question. “Wanje gave Calandra her blessing and said she would help any way she could.”
“I still don’t understand why Wanje would help citizens train as, as—”
“—Warriors?”
“Yeah, it’s a waste of heartbeats. They should be helping fish or stock the rations or gather brush and cane.”
“Maybe Wanje disagrees.”
“But, they’re not warriors.”
“Because they’re citizens?”
Amaria was confused. “Yes, because they’re citizens.”
“Poor citizens. We’re so helpless.” Ursula put her hand up under her chin. “Protect us, strong warriors. Protect one and all.” She put her hand down. “I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, you can, can you? You want to go to battle, Urs? You ready to pick up a blade?”
She laughed. “Me? No. The paintbrush is my blade. If war comes, I’ll go to the Reserve. I’m even okay with them shaving my head. I’ll make it look Gypsus good,” she said, “but some of the others want to fight for Themiscia, for their sisters, for the Great Mother, or just because they can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“We can be anything we want. We can own a business. We can fish. We can build houses and be healers. We can even be artists, but we can’t be warriors. Forget about queen.”
“Divine blood doesn’t run through your veins.”
“Yet, we can be citizen sages and preach Her teachings.”
“That’s different. There’s not a lot of physical requirements to reading scrolls. The sages are as small as citizens.”
“Well, Wanje is encouraging some to act as warriors. She named their club CAW and told them to shadow younger ones like you and P to learn how to fight.”
Amaria couldn’t believe it. Wanje had given a name and weapons to a group of vigilante citizens and asked them to train secretly in the Stalks and shadow warriors. It must have been her shadow that day who had thrown the spear that killed the cat.
Ursula set her paintbrush down. “I’ll bet all those arrowheads in your cloth that, had you asked, Wanje would have told you this, maybe encouraged you to train them.”
“What? I doubt it.” Amaria thought about it. Those citizens desperately needed help. “Some just stood there and swung their staffs around,” she said. “They need to get whipped into shape.”
Ursula shrugged. “Well, now I’ve spilled the worms, and you know what I know.”
“Except where they’re getting the cloth.”
“I will not break the vow. Wanje said I should trust very few. So far, I’ve only told you. You should ask Wanje about CAW.”
“I haven’t seen her. I’ve been on leave since I started Quest Training, practically. I’ve had two lessons. I was late returning scrolls to both and punished severely for it.”
Ursula crinkled her brow. “What were the scrolls?”
“One was a picture she drew.” She looked at the ground. “I don’t know about the other three.”
“You didn’t read them?”
Amaria looked up. “No! Those CAW girls distracted me, and I had to go in the Stalks and saw P on a horse. Then the cats, which is why I didn’t finish by last light, and—”
Ursula raised her hand to indicate that she had explained enough.
Amaria exhaled slowly. “All I’ve been doing since is training Timber.”
“Who?”
“My pet mountain cat. She followed me home after my last lesson.”
“Sacred Peacock, Amaria! You have a mountain cat?”
Amaria smiled. “In my barn. Oh, and I owe you a new bird for Genesis. Sorry.”
Ursula gasped. “What? Blue Arrow’s—”
“—Dead, yes. Mother found her yesterday.”
Ursula bowed her head. “Great Mother, welcome Blue Arrow back to Thy womb.”
“All in Her Name.”
Ursula shifted to a more upbeat tone. “Doesn’t sound like your lessons have been that fruitless.”
Amaria shrugged. “I think Wanje is so concerned about me being late that I’m not progressing. She said I won’t have another until after Genesis.”
“Well, maybe my Genesis gift will help you stay on track when you do.” She walked to a satchel next to the tree and returned with a small box.
She held it out, and Amaria took it. “What’s this?”
“Just something I conjured in solitude. I was quite productive. Put a cartload of ideas on parchment.”
Amaria opened it and looked inside, puzzled.
Ursula took the box, giddy. She pulled the gift out and set the container on the ground. “Give me your arm.” Amaria extended her arm, and Ursula clasped something around her wrist. She stepped back and smiled. “What do you think?”
Latched to a thick band was a white wooden circle with words etched around it and a black dot in the center. Amaria examined the gift closer. The black dot was a tiny metal spike sticking out of the wood, and the etching was words that read first light, morning dine, midday, and evening dine. There were red dashes circling the edge.
“I basically took a sun tracker and made it portable.”
Sun trackers were what the light watchers used to know when to blow the horns at midday and last light.
Ursula grabbed Amaria’s arm. “You can’t see it from here.” She led her to a patch of light. “You need the sun. Look. Now, you don’t need the horns. Might come in handy when they go silent.”
Amar
ia looked at the circle. The shadow from the center pin was on the red dash just past midday.
“I’m not sure what to call mine yet.” She let go of Amaria’s arm. “The first model was terrible. I painted the wood black to match the leather. You couldn’t see the shadow.” She picked up the box. “I put it in there for laughs. I also tried yellow and red. Yellow isn’t bad.”
Amaria looked in the container and saw the colored circles at the bottom.
“You can trade them out,” said Ursula. “Just slide the leather through the slots. It’s easy.”
Amaria looked at her wrist. The piece felt sturdy and quality-crafted. She looked at the markings on the band.
“I carved an arrow,” said Ursula.
“That’s nice, Urs. I can’t believe you made this.”
“It’s a one-of-a-kind, but it won’t be for long. Nobody will have an arrow, but I’m thinking of making more after Genesis.”
“Maybe you should give them to those CAW girls, so they’ll know when patrols are coming.”
Ursula winked. “I’m also thinking I should give a few to Gypsus. If they get popular, Second Hands may come knocking on my tree.”
“You should make one for P.”
Ursula nodded. “Already did.”
Amaria played offended. “I thought you said I had the original?”
Ursula smiled. “You do, one of two. I etched a fish in her leather.”
“I haven’t heard from P in moons. Timber ate her bird, too, but I got half a parchment. Have you seen her?”
Ursula nodded. “At the healers’ camp, yesterday.”
“How’s her mother?”
Ursula shook her head. “Not well. P said she didn’t want anyone to see her like that, so she was glad you hadn’t come. She thought you had been assigned duty to replace her while she was on leave.”
Amaria shook her head. “Not even close. Should we go see her?”
“She said she would see us at the Games.”
“She’s not coming to your showing?”
Ursula shook her head. “She doesn’t have the heartbeats.”
“I’m sorry, Urs.”
“I’m not. She needs to be with her mother, and this tree is looking more hideous by the stroke.”
“It is not hideous, Urs. It’s truly divine, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me this—,” Amaria looked at her wrist, “—shadow catcher.” She looked at Ursula. “I can’t believe how beautiful your tree is.”
“You coming to the opening?”
Amaria nodded. “I’m going to try.”
“You don’t have to. I know you have much to do before the Games.”
Amaria felt slightly relieved. As much as she wanted to support Ursula, Genesis was only two days away, and Amaria had never felt less prepared going into the Games as she did this cycle. “You don’t want me there? I should see it proper.”
Ursula turned and motioned to the tree. “This is as good as it gets. Consider it a private showing.” She looked at the piece for a few heartbeats. “It would be better with the sand.”
“Why don’t you take a break and come meet Timber? I need to get some gifts, and you need to buy Pandora thread.”
Ursula rolled her eyes. “I guess I could use some fresh air and a stroll.” She walked to the tree and pulled a cloth around it. “Can you see it?” she asked, walking over to Amaria.
Amaria looked. “No, it’s hidden.” She turned and walked with Ursula out of the galleries.
They walked for a few heartbeats before Ursula looked at Amaria. “Shadow Catcher?”
Amaria shrugged. “What do you think?”
She smiled. “It’s catchy.”
Amaria imitated Pandora. “Shadow Catchers will mesmerize, tantalize, and scandalize every wrist in Themiscia!”
Ursula laughed. “Beastly,” she said, and then she and Amaria clapped hands.
When Amaria was younger, Genesis Eve was one of the most exciting nights of the cycle. After a family feast, everyone would gather by the hearth or fire pit outside. Amaria and Telsa played Rounded Stones or Skip the Pebble, while Sakina did jewelry making or sewing and their mother played the reed or read until the fire burned out. They would end the night singing carols, always closing with the Sacred Peacock’s Flight, before getting one last sweet and being shewed out of the room and off to sleep.
Telsa, Sakina, and Amaria would cram into one bed for the night. Telsa always fell asleep first, while Sakina told stories. The details were captivating, and Amaria would clutch her pillow to muffle the laughs and cheers and listen intently, sometimes until the wax melted down to the wood, to tales of warriors from the past and predictions for the future which always positioned she and Amaria among the top ranks of the queen’s army and Telsa as a wise and respected sage.
This Genesis Eve, Amaria and her mother did the usual traditions they had formed since Telsa and Sakina had left. They ate a modest meal and discussed the activities at the artists’ camp and the competitors in the Games. Her mother played the reed, and Amaria sketched and polished her bow and Silver Wing. Her mother didn’t have to shew her off to bed this cycle. She went on her own well before the flames flickered out, declining the offer for one more honey ball before leaving the room.
In bed, she tried to force herself to sleep, but her mind kept her awake. She thought of how simple things were last cycle. She had slept hard and sound and, in the morning, rushed to the hearth to see the gifts the Sacred Peacock had left. She hadn’t yet begun Quest Training, and the most important thing in her life was the Games. Last cycle, she had trained with more than just bows to prepare for the events she had entered. She had ridden horses through the archers’ course, had spent moons on the sliver, and had sparred with Elle and Ophea to prepare for Hand-to-Hand. Last cycle, Telsa hadn’t had any visions, and Amaria hadn’t vomited on the queen’s table. She wasn’t worried about her lessons, and Sakina hadn’t volunteered for a mission and was instead celebrating the holiday at the warriors’ camp. Sadness filled her heart as she wondered if she would ever again feel the way she had last cycle.
After a night of broken sleep, she got out of bed and stepped into her hide slippers. She stumbled into the main room wiping the crust from her eyes.
“Happy Genesis,” Mother said softly.
Amaria squinted as she adjusted to the light from the fire in the hearth and the wicks burning around the room. Dressed for the day, her mother sat in her chair sipping tea. Next to her was a platter of fruits and breads, a canter of juice, and saucers of jelly spreads. Amaria looked at the dining area. She saw roasted bird legs propped against one another on a plate. There were other dishes on the table too far away to identify, but she could see enough food to feed the entire family, even though it was just Amaria and her mother celebrating.
A chill raced up her back, and she stepped closer to the hearth. “Happy Genesis, Mother.”
Her mother put the teacup down and stood up. “I bet you were up late,” she said, hugging Amaria tight, “wondering what the Sacred Peacock would leave.”
Amaria buried her face into her mother’s neck. “Yes, I’ve been standing on coals all night,” she said flatly.
Her mother patted Amaria’s back before pulling away and returning to her chair. “Looks like you were good this cycle. The Sacred Peacock must have struggled with that one.”
Amaria scanned the hearth. She saw the metal, and her heart leapt at the sight of the shield. She rushed over and picked it up. It was just as beautiful as she had remembered that day in front of Savage Huntress with Wanje, only now the talons seemed bigger, whiter, sharper. She eyed the gift in admiration. “Oh, Mother,” she gushed, “it’s beautiful.”
“Don’t look at me. To be honest, I’m shocked the Sacred Peacock thought you were worth the trouble.” She winked and poured more tea.
&nbs
p; Amaria looked at the back of the disc. There were two sets of straps, one for her forearms and one for her back. She slid her forearm through the leather and pulled it close to her chest. “Well, I hope the Sacred Peacock knows how grateful I am for the gift.” She took the shield off her forearm and strapped it on her back. It fit like a shell and was as light as a satchel.
Her mother leaned over to the hearth and broke off some bread. “I’m sure she does.” She smeared jelly over the top and leaned back. “She was generous with us all this cycle.”
Amaria looked at the other gifts. There were two tunics and a pair of climbing sandals for Sakina. For Telsa, the Sacred Peacock had left leather slippers lined with bearskin and a bear hide blanket. Amaria thought about her sisters and felt the holiday cheer seep from her body as she admired the gifts they were not there to receive. She took the shield, leaned it against the hearth, and pushed the sadness out of her heart to embrace a more jovial holiday spirit. “What did the Sacred Peacock bring you?”
“Some softening cream and bath salts. Just a little something.”
Amaria smiled. “That reminds me. I’ll be right back.” She hurried to her room and returned with a bundle she’d wrapped in parchment and tied with string. “Happy Genesis.”
Her mother took the gift. “Thank you, my heart. What is this?” She set the package in her lap and looked at it.
Amaria wasn’t the best at wrapping parchment. Often, she misjudged how much was needed. Her corners were always uneven, and it took extra string to keep the gift concealed inside. Despite the woes, Amaria loved giving presents.
She looked at her mother and shrugged. “Open it.”
Originally, she had planned to give her softening cream from Scented Goddess, but when she and Ursula had gone to Simple Scrolls, she saw a much better gift. It cost her more, but now that the Sacred Peacock had left softening cream, Amaria was glad she had splurged this Genesis.
Her mother seemed confused but intrigued as she untied the string and pulled back the parchment. “What is this?”
Amaria knelt beside the chair and leaned on the arm. “It’s a new copy of Her teachings. I had them etch your name in the casing.” She looked at the word “Mother” carved and painted gold in the leather. “They did a good job, don’t you think?”