by Kim Wedlock
His eyes were hard as he looked down his nose at her. "You are going nowhere. Anai will be guiding them."
"But they are my responsibility--"
"No."
She tightened her jaw at his low and sharp tone and managed not to flinch, but she was unable to look back at him as he squared himself towards her.
"Your responsibility is to tend to our people," he reminded her, sternly rather than angrily. "You are our healer, Eyila; whether you like it or not, you were born with rare gifts, and with Liaha watching from the Winds, there is no one else who can do what you do." His frustration was clear in his eyes, edged with beseechment. "You cannot go to Ut'hala. Not while it is in such turmoil."
"I cannot leave this to someone else," she declared just as firmly, "not even Anai, as capable a priestess as she is. I will be going in her place."
Exasperation leaked in and freckled his tone. "You would endanger yourself to help them?"
"No, I would endanger myself to help us."
"You are not a priestess, Eyila, your duty is not to Aya'u or her shrine!"
A great anger flashed across her face, but she managed to bite it back and smother its heat. "And no priestess could go in my place." She turned towards him now, her eyes as hard as his, and she ignored the curious looks of passers by as they wondered what new drama was unfolding. "Those people are the only ones who have presented any kind of solution to this issue, and if anything happens to them out there, that hope is gone. By going with them and keeping them safe we have the best chance of restoring Ut'hala and appeasing Aya'u, and with my magic, I might just be able to help them as more than just a salve dispenser."
His disapproving stare didn't waver.
"And they've come to develop some kind of trust towards me. It would be best if that was put to use."
He stared at her for another long while, but soon sighed and shook his head. "No, Eyila--"
"Uncle," she pressed, "you know as well as I do that my skills are not often needed, I'm here 'just in case' - when was the last time I treated more than cuts and scrapes?!"
"That may be true," he conceded, his tone unchanging as he stubbornly folded his arms, "but now you've gone and said that, something will happen and you won't be here to help. What about Uyu'una?"
"That's still almost three weeks away. It'll take a week to reach Ut'hala and a week to get back; I'll return in time for the festival - but my skills shouldn't be needed then, either." She cocked her head and offered him a reassuring smile, but it was clear by the stern crease in his forehead and the depth of his smooth, white eyebrows that it was doing nothing at all to sway him. She sighed and let it slip away. "By sending Anai, or anyone else, you're putting them in direct danger from both Ut'hala's state and these people. But I can defend myself just as well as any of the hunters, and I don't need a weapon to do it."
He grasped her still bandaged arm. "Then how did this happen?"
She hesitated as her eyes dropped down to it. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you 'don't know'?"
"I mean I didn't see who or what attacked me - I didn't see them, I didn't hear them, I didn't smell them. I didn't even know I was attacked until I woke up from it."
"Mhm," he nodded vigorously, his eyes ablaze. "One of your new friends possesses magic. What if it was them? Hm? What if he masked himself so he could sneak up on you, attack you, then pretend to come to your rescue to get you to bring him here?"
She was already shaking her own head, though far more calmly than he had. "I would have sensed it," she assured him confidently. "Magic can't be concealed like that. I'd have sensed the spell, or I'd have sensed him - do they really seem so malevolent to you?"
"It's my job to be suspicious of newcomers."
"And yet Kahii is willing to trust them enough to agree to sending one of her acolytes with them."
He said nothing.
"You know I'm right. Don't be--"
"If you call me pig-headed again, I swear I will lock you in this hut."
She smiled broadly, her eyes brightening. "Did that work the last time?"
He sighed wearily. "I hate magic." He looked at her now with new eyes, more considerate, more reasonable, and finally the stubborn wall began to collapse. He gestured towards the healer's quarters. "Get in there and see to yourself, then prepare as many long-lived salves, medicines and anti-venoms as you can, the ones we're most likely to need. If you're really going to leave us for two weeks, the least you can do is give us the means to treat ourselves."
A grin stole across her face, her blue eyes gleaming, and she reached out and embraced him tightly. He closed his painted arms around her with another defeated sigh, but smiled at her enthusiasm. She was certainly his sister's daughter.
The sun had shifted eastwards, and while it cast deep and welcome shadows over the group's secluded little spot, none of them were particularly sure how far away dusk was in this land of forever-sun - and they were doubly unsettled by the fact that they were unable to see what the tribespeople were up to in the meantime. They spent the afternoon largely in silence and absorbed in their own activities.
Anthis was, as always, buried in the ditchlings' notes, which he had taken to rewriting in his notebook in a legible form, but while he could clearly see it was all related to elven magic, little of it was any help. Mostly it was talk of outlandish feats, and though he wasn't quick to dismiss them as tales, he could certainly see a trend in the ditchlings' interests as well as the fact that they were all given very vague instructions on what to look for.
Rathen meanwhile tried to further the theory of his own task, but with opportunities to feel the magic and test any of his ideas few and far between, he found himself still only writing in circles. He was growing increasingly frustrated with the constant blockades and hoped more and more that Ut'hala would provide some kind of light, that he would find something there to give his task a clearer direction, maybe even a base to build the spell up from. Otherwise, any hope he had of succeeding was fading fast - if it was possible to lose what he didn't have in the first place.
And while Aria's activities were usually of the utmost importance, now she only doodled. Fearful of revealing her knife around these people, she'd returned to her own sketchbook as well, and seemed from Rathen's angle to be drawing some kind of...well it was either a tree or a person. He favoured the latter.
Petra and Garon kept watch for the duration.
And yet it still came as a surprise when the chief appeared from around the corner, Eyila, the priestess and a few other tribesmen in tow, approaching on silent feet. The sand, it seemed, would take a great deal of getting used to.
They dropped what they were doing and rose to their feet, offering the chief the same customary greeting as when they had first met, and this time it seemed to be more favourably received.
"It's time to leave," he informed them. "Ut'hala is a week away and your path will take you deep into the desert. You would do well to travel morning and evening, and wrap up well at night. Midday is hotter than your kind are used to in the south, and the nights are colder." He indicated Eyila, who, they noticed, had an animal skin pack slung over her shoulders, and a length of rope adorned with a variety of leaves, pouches and phials draped across her torso. "Eyila will be joining you. She may be able to offer you help and advice towards the situation - and, if your intentions turn out to be false, she will protect the site." He took a step towards them as his eyes became grave, and as respectfully submissive as the group tried to be, they suddenly felt the need to physically stoop beneath his gaze. "If you attempt to harm her, or further defile the shrine, you will suffer both her wrath and Aya'u's. Do not take either of them lightly."
They nodded their fervent understanding, and Rathen was the first to reclaim his composure. "You have our thanks, Chieftain," he said humbly, "but rest assured that we have told you the truth."
His heavy gaze still seemed unconvinced, but the priestess who stepped up beside him remained a
pleasant contrast, enlightened and reasonable. She offered them a radiant smile, and Rathen found himself feeling strangely lighter for it.
"I wish you the best of luck out there. Ut'hala is of great importance to our people - not just the Ikaheka, but to all tribes of the wind. If you can restore its balance, we will be in your debt." She received a subtle glare of disapproval from the chief, but if she was aware of it - she didn't seem the type to miss very much - she did a fine job of ignoring it. Instead, she raised her hands and made a wide, sweeping gesture, similar to the customary female greeting to the chief except that this one encompassed the whole group, and the waft of air that the movement cast across them was stronger and cooler than should have been possible. "Oluya toakan Aya'u tse," she said on the lightest whisper, then lowered her hands and smiled over them once again. "Go forth with Aya'u's blessing."
They inclined their heads gratefully, wondering at the curiously empowering sensation that had fallen upon them when the alien words had been uttered, only to flee as suddenly as it had arrived.
"Saya'a lo toa," Eyila replied just as softly, but though her expression reflected their own calm, there was a new yet tightly restrained enthusiasm in her eyes, one which Rathen found himself already familiar with - it was a glint that often appeared in Anthis's eyes right before he delved into a box of dusty scrolls. His caution rose as he wondered if hers would be just as innocent.
But as she stepped forwards to join them, the chief caught her arm and pulled her back for a few quiet words. Rathen only managed to catch 'be careful' from the exchange, and after she'd nodded and offered a smile to reassure the reluctance in his eyes, she returned her attention to Rathen and the others and moved to align with them.
"Good luck," he called as she began to lead them away, then lowered his voice with a sigh. "You'll need it."
Anthis cast a glance over his shoulder as the village dropped behind them and loosed a careful sigh of relief. "Well," he said quietly, "that went well - assuming that this isn't some elaborate deception."
"It isn't," Rathen replied, and though his voice too was almost a whisper, and his eyes were still glued to Eyila as she walked on ahead of them, he wasn't watching her with as much suspicion anymore. Their time in the village, as brief as it was, had made him wonder if they weren't perhaps a little bit wrong about the tribes - or this tribe, at least. They didn't grunt or howl in communication, they lived in well-constructed buildings, if a little small, and more than just courteous to one another, they had at least a few complicated customs and gestures of respect to both their superiors and their faith.
Of course, none of that meant they weren't prone to barbaric responses, as four hours was hardly enough time to get to know a culture, so, for now at least, they would have to remain vigilant in her company.
"And you're sure?" Anthis asked, hopefully rather than sceptically, and Petra nodded from beside him just as Rathen did.
"It isn't."
The historian blinked at her. "...Well, good." His eyes travelled to the white haired girl and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "They're not really what I expected."
"What did you expect?" Aria asked none too quietly, and though the tribal girl didn't turn her head in curiosity, Anthis preferred not to voice the truth. So he replied hurriedly, and louder, for Eyila's benefit.
"Well I thought there would be less of them. They must be very good hunters and gatherers to survive out here. I mean," he gestured animatedly around himself. "I'm quite sure I'd starve."
"You just have to know where to look." Eyila glanced around at them with neither a smile nor a frown, though there was still that excited glimmer in her eyes. "If you know the land, you'll know where to find animals. There are ibex on the lower reaches of the mountains and out among the plateaus, and oryx wander the sands in between, and plants grow around the springs they drink from."
"Springs?" Petra frowned. "So there is water out here?"
She cast her the bemused frown they were all becoming quite familiar with. "Of course. But, as with the animals, you just have to know where to find it." She pointed eastwards, seemingly towards nothing. "There's a spring that way."
"Are there any along our path?"
She sent them a wry smile. "There is water, yes."
She turned her attention back towards their heading, leaving the others to share uneasy glances. Some of them may have had their misgivings about the tribespeople thrown into question, but their apprehensions about the desert that lay before them were rooted and growing, and the nature of her apparently simple answer only made it worse.
An anxious silence descended.
"So you're a priestess?" Anthis asked in an attempt to break it, but he spoke with a nervous haste rather than interest which earned him four subtle frowns.
This time Eyila didn't turn. "No," she replied shortly. "I'm not."
"...Oh... B-but the chief said--"
"He decided you'd be safer if I came with you instead. And I might be of more help."
Rathen nodded to himself in satisfaction. He'd kept his protests about a guide silent in the chieftain's presence, and had decided that if anyone had to accompany them out there, he'd have preferred it to be the mage. Even if she was a risk, he could at least counter-spell her, and it was entirely possible that she could tell them something that could help his understanding of the magic. They were a simple people, and while it was likely that they had romantic ideas about magic, he hoped that one of them who possessed it would be able to bridge those ideas to the facts and offer a whole new viewpoint.
But he would still watch her closely, especially with that twinkle in her eye and the sudden contrasting note of venom in her voice, but more so for the fact that magically binding her hands was no longer an option, not now that diplomacy had come into play. They would have to trust her, and trust her fully.
A task made harder for the fact that her bandages had disappeared and any trace of her wounds along with them - a detail no one else seemed yet to have noticed.
They travelled on in silence as the day drew to an end, and though it had still been warm when they'd set out, by the time dusk melted into night there was a definite chill in the air, one that somehow hadn't been present even near the snow-capped mountains, and yet existed instead out on the stifling sands where they hadn't seen so much as a stubby little knot of dry grass for an hour. It intensified with the darkness, and despite the compulsion to stop and pitch camp, the tribal girl kept them moving.
"If we stop and sleep too soon, we'll rise too soon, and then we'll want to stop and sleep too soon again, and we'll end up travelling in the middle of the day," Eyila had said when Aria began falling behind, though not without apology, but soon called a halt if just out of pity for the little girl.
They raised tents, courtesy of Kienza, to keep away the chill and to protect them from the desert creatures they were told came out during the cooler nights, and, as absurd as it certainly seemed, lit a much-needed camp fire.
"We will set out again just before sunrise," she informed them as they settled around it to eat, grateful to finally sit down and rest their feet after the five-hour challenge of walking over deep and unstable sands.
"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Rathen asked as she turned and stepped away from them, having had no trouble at all, herself.
"Not yet. I have to meditate."
Petra frowned after her. "You really don't need to be so tense around us," she said gently, "we're not going to hurt you..."
But Eyila only chuckled and turned them a pitying smile. "That is not its purpose."
"Then what is?"
Her eyes shifted onto Rathen, who looked back with an equal measure of interest and suspicion. The others, she noticed, looked much the same, if to varying degrees, while Garon appeared still wholly distrusting - though he had yet to truly speak a word to her since she'd come into their company.
Her smile slipped and a strange note of regret touched her eyes. She forced her smile back into pl
ace. "It is just something I need to do." And with that, she turned and walked away to ascend a nearby dune where she predictably sat, straightened her back, and let the breeze she'd found against the odds tousle her long white hair.
"I wonder what she's up to," Anthis muttered, staring towards her as he raised his bread to his mouth, and Rathen's eyes narrowed as his own thoughts deepened.
"She said Aya'u was the goddess of the wind, right?"
"Mhm."
He nodded slowly as his thoughts fell into order, then decisively looked away. "Leave her to it. It's none of our business, and the last thing we need is to be led out here and abandoned in an ocean of sand because we've insulted some tribal custom." His attention then fell onto the notebook in his lap, though he made sure she was still within his sight, and Aria shortly followed his example and began scribbling secretively into her own, having come across an idea for her previous and highly important task. She'd been yawning for over an hour, though, so he doubted she'd get very far with it, and sure enough, within ten minutes she'd fallen asleep against him with it still open in her hands.
He smiled warmly, shaking his head to himself, and turned to draw her blanket out of their tent with a brief, single-handed spell, draped it over her body and tucked it gently around her as her breath slowed and deepened. He removed her book, closing it without giving its contents even a cursory glance and set it down beside her, then watched her sleep for a moment, letting her breathing calm his own heart, and the burning around his arm soon passed.
It now happened without fail every time he cast a spell, and he could no longer tell if the sensation was dulling or if he was simply getting used to it - but he was at least prepared for it, if he could be grateful for anything. But while the bouts were becoming manageable, their cause still eluded him, and his stifled concern was made worse by the knowledge that even Kienza seemed stumped.
But he had proven to himself that he could work through it, and at this point, that was all that mattered.
His eyes dropped back onto his own hopeless scrawlings, most of which were still being crossed out, and as that tiresome futility bubbled up in his stomach yet again, he released a long and weary sigh.