The Wittering Way

by Nat Burns

  “Hold it, RoseIII. It may try to escape as the magic takes hold,” I said. Following the directions in Mother’s book, I circled deosil three times as I chanted the holding work.

  North south east west

  A magic cord shall bind it best

  East west north south

  Hold its limbs and stop its mouth

  Seal its eyes and choke its breath

  Wrap it round with ropes of death.

  An’ it harm none, for the good of all

  I stepped away and studied the creature. It was suddenly limp and docile, eyes dimmed.

  “You can let it go now, RoseIII,” I said. “It will help us until tomorrow night.”

  “Can’t we just let it go now? Leave it?” Yewsy said. She was wringing her hands together nervously. “I don’t like holding another living creature this way.”

  I wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pressed my palm to Memo’s hand to reassure them both. Afton dimmed and darkness fell but for the moonlight through the trees and the glow of the dying fire.

  “We’d be harming it more now, leaving it defenseless in the wild,” I told her. Neisi didn’t have fammies for protection as we did and would wander aimlessly if left alone. Or perish from being too far from their watery home.

  “I can’t sleep now,” Talew said loudly. “Not with that...that thing here with us.”

  I understood his sentiment but knew we might get lost if we moved forward at night. Stunned by indecision, I jumped nervously when Afton connected with me. “Afton says we light our own path and move on. Upstream, so we can release the Neisi back into the water when it’s time.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Talew agreed.

  “Lem, will you look after the Neisi, please? Just make sure it doesn’t get hurt until we let it go.”

  Lemon nodded slowly as he watched the Neisi. “So beautiful in the water but so clumsy on land,” he said.

  Yewsy moved closer to me. “Why do we need the Neisi? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s not malice, Yews. It’s for our own protection. We don’t

  need it telling its tribe that we are here,” I answered. “Do you really think they’d hurt us?” she asked. She

  stumbled and her fammie lit dimly.

  I shrugged as I glanced at her pinched face. “I don’t know for certain but I don’t want to chance it. At least after the binding, it shouldn’t remember us except as a very faint recollection.”

  “I’m really tired,” Capel said. “Can we rest?”

  “We can’t,” RoseIII answered. “Here.” He lifted her onto his shoulder. Her fammie lit and the higher light helped brighten our path more thoroughly. “We have to keep moving. We want to be far upriver when we let the Neisi loose.”

  “You know, Neisi can be a nasty lot,” a piping voice said, just above our heads. A new light flashed into being and I could see an all too familiar Jana.

  “Tsisi?” I asked.

  “I heard that they take dead Meabs below the water. You know, to soften them, then they suck out the insides,” Tsisi said.

  Yewsy shuddered. “Eww,” she whispered.

  “Why aren’t you looking after your father?” I asked her.

  She flashed away once. “And miss this adventure? You jest. Father should be just fine on his own. Once he gets out his sopore, he forgets I exist anyway.”

  “Doesn’t it affect you, the sopore?” I asked curiously.

  The Jana flew rapidly to one side. I got dizzy trying to track her with my eyes.

  “No, Janas seem to rise above it. Honey water makes us giggle though. And tell secrets that shouldn’t be told.”

  “Secrets? Secrets? Tell us all your secrets,” Memo said, clapping her hands together. Higen lit happily, increasing visibility further. Tsisi also flashed repeatedly, causing my vision to blur as light overlaid dark and vice versa.

  “I don’t think so,” Tsisi said. “Telling secrets for Lore join is like shouting it from the top of Ziv Mountain.”

  “Hey,” Memo objected, frowning. “That’s not true!”

  RoseIII turned and he and Capel eyed Memo disbelievingly.

  “Just walk on,” Memo muttered, shooing their stares away with both hands, her fammie bobbing merrily.

  I was increasingly disoriented by all the bobbing lights around me, so I turned and looked ahead into the darkness. The Jana was chattering on as Janas are wont to do, the Neisi was stumbling blankly next to Lemon, and my fellow travelers were tiredly conversing.

  I hated that we’d had to move on with so little rest, but I felt the urgency of my sister’s fate. Time passing was an unknown danger. Normally, I would not have felt this fear but, after seeing the tragedy that had befallen my join, I realized that anything could happen to her. I was also unsure about why they had taken her. To what end? The longer we dallied, the greater the danger could become.

  “What’s next, Yewsy? You’ve gone farther into these woods than most.”

  Yewsy turned a quizzical gaze toward me. “No, not really. I usually go the other way around and south, to avoid the Neisi. Mother has burned the hazards of Felshea Falls into my very breast.”

  “Ahh,” I agreed. It was common knowledge that crossing the falls was the closest way out of the forest but it was fraught with danger, both from the Neisi and from the Gobbyes, who often camped beneath the bridge. Rumor had it that children were the favorite food of both creatures.

  I thought of my own mother, heard her repeated warnings and felt a flash of pain rip through me. Thankfully, this mission was helping me place her death to one side. I firmed my jaw and mentally repeated again—I would grieve later.

  Book Ten

  A SMALL HINT of sunlight brightened the eastern sky some hours later and I breathed a sigh of relief. The wooden bridge across the top of Felshea River loomed large against scattering clouds. It was a welcome sight. I was fatigued from the many legs we had traveled through the forest during the night and knew my companions were as well. Though well past atrebud stage, they were nevertheless young and had even less stamina than I.

  I narrowed my eyes together, creating slits. I shut out all surrounding sound, especially Tsisi’s chatter, and listened for my sister. She was talking to...a young woman. A very thin young woman, of Brinc clan. The glimpses I saw of her face showed shadowed, gaunt cheeks with sharp cheekbones and sunken, gleaming blue eyes. Oddly enough, I sensed feelings of affection radiating from Avapeony.

  I snapped my eyes wide as we trod forward toward the river. This was a puzzlement indeed. How could Avapeony feel anything other than hatred for her captors?

  RoseIII approached closely behind me. “Cleome, what say we rest a time before we make the crossing? We will need powerful wit about us.”

  I nodded and lowered my bags as we moved deeper into the trees that were nestled against the foothills of Ziv Mountain. In the brightening dawn, the nuances of the Neisi’s form were even more evident. I saw now that gill slits laddered up the sides of its torso. They moved as it breathed in air but it was heartily evident that the creature needed to return to the water and soon.

  Tsisi buzzed by my head. “I’m off to get food,” she said. “I’ll bring back some for all.”

  “Wait! There’s no way you can carry enough,” I said wearily. I turned and spied tiny Capel watching me with bright brown eyes. “Would you go with her, Capel?”

  Her fammie, Walsh, brightened and broke into happy tendrils which she wrapped around Capel’s head, making a tall hat. Capel knocked the fammie aside absently and smiled at me, one cheek dimpling in as if touched at birth by a Jana finger. “Of course! Come, Tsisi, we’ll sing as we work.”

  I smiled as I watched her skip away, the Jana and the fammie spinning in dance above her head. I knew Tsisi would protect her from any Morri magic so turned my attention back to our rudimentary campsite.

  Lemon and Saffron, fammies limp, sat together to one side, murmuring to one another, the Neisi standing slack behind them. I marveled
again at how similar their appearance, with matching short golden curls and huge clear, green eyes. Twinning did occur from Lake Feidlimed but it was greeted with a sense of awe. Only very powerful magic received twins. I thought about their mother, Airgialla, who certainly fit that criteria. She was a daughter of RoseIII’s Thorn join before entering into the Basil join as a young woman. Once settled in, she had worked hard to foster her household skills and was now one of the most powerful hearth wits out there. Even my mother, so powerful in her own right, had sought advice from Airgialla’s hearth.

  “So, what’s next,” Yewsy said. “Shall I pull out the food from home?”

  “No, the forage they bring back should be enough to sustain us,” I said and sighed deeply.

  Yewsy nodded then called out to the dark youth sprawled against a tree trunk. “Talew, can you and RoseIII fetch us some water?”

  Talew lifted the basket from RoseIII’s pack and they set off down a slope toward the river.

  “Memo’s gone,” Yewsy said suddenly, alarm etched into her tone.

  I spun around. “What do you mean, gone?” It was true, neither Memo, nor her small blue linen pack was there.

  “Oh, Goddess,” I breathed, my heart thumping in my chest. “When did we last see her?”

  “Moments ago. When we stopped,” Yewsy answered. “Memo!” she called out, walking toward the river.

  I set off toward the bridge, also calling out for her. I kept my voice low, however, not wanting to alert the slumbering Neisi to our presence. I felt frustration bubble up in me. What was the little Meab thinking, wandering off by herself?

  I walked some way, angling toward the river, and I came upon a small cave that yawned wide beneath an overhang, no doubt hollowed out by past floods. I thought it might have beckoned to a curious wit so I crept close. Muffled sounds reached my ears so I paused, new fear filling me. It sounded like a struggle.

  “Ha! Is this what you’re looking for?” A Gobbye strode from the shadowed interior of the cave, Memo dangling from one stubby hand. Her eyes sought mine and I saw her regret, her apology.

  Gobbyes are terrifying, rawboned creatures who have large, square-jawed faces, which they begin scarring religiously at a young age. This one had rubbed red color onto the intricate spirals carved into each cheek and centered on his forehead. Gobbyes also forced their fammies around their waists, pinning them there with binding magic. His fammie, imprisoned thus, was the dark gray color of misery. I could sense the fammie’s pain battering at me, as well as Memo’s fear.

  “Yes,” I choked out, mind whirling with possibilities about how best to proceed in freeing Memo and maintaining harmony. “Thank you for finding her.”

  The Gobbye let Memo go and she scurried up the embankment to me. I hugged her briefly then shoved her behind me as other Gobbyes stepped from their river boulder and tree hiding places. They were a populous, motley crew, dressed in ragged clothing and animal leather. Even the atrebuds were scarred and fierce in appearance. The Gobbyes seemed to live together in one large clan, not separating into smaller joins as the Meab did.

  “I see you have the Morri mark of safe passage,” the Gobbye next to the cave opening said, squinting at my forehead.

  I stretched myself to my full height, motioning behind my back for Memo to run back to the others. “I do,” I replied. “We seek the far side of these lands.”

  A Gobbye female stepped forward. “I say we mark her, as well,” she said, stooping and lifting a small, sharp stone. “Let’s make her as one of our own.”

  One of the Gobbye atrebuds jumped gleefully and lobbed a stone at me. It struck my shoulder before I could make the sign of protection. I rubbed the sore spot and glared at the young Gobbye.

  “There’s ought but Brinc land on the far side,” the cave Gobbye said, peering at me. His matted black hair moved as if vermin lived inside and I suddenly felt queasy.

  “Yes, we go there to rescue my sister Avapeony, from Widdershin join. The Brinc clan have taken her.”

  “Taken her?” He eyed me in disbelief. “To what end?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Certainly not to foster harmony among our clans.”

  He nodded agreeably. “Certainly not.”

  “Harmony. Huh,” the female said, moving closer. I watched the hand with the sharp rock closely, wondering if she really would scar me against my will. Glimpses of her bare skin showed mud residue amid the prevalent, raised scarring. She smelled muddy, too. And, most alarming, I could smell old blood on her. My queasiness increased and I had sharp, sudden compassion for the fammie strapped to her middle.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I warned. My hands heated with magic.

  “Lise,” the cave Gobbye said in a menacing voice. The woman paused and studied me, lip curved in distaste. “Pale, smooth face,” she sneered, as she flung the stone to the ground and returned to her clan.

  The cave Gobbye, obviously a leader, spoke again. “So, you cross the falls?”

  “Yes.” I had a flash of inspiration. “With your permission, of course.”

  He narrowed his eyes at my guile.

  “What makes you think you can reason with them?” he asked, changing the subject.

  I glanced around before answering, uneasy that another menacing Gobbye might be ambushing from behind or from the side as their leader delayed me.

  “They are still Meab, once of the wit, though they have abandoned this part of themselves. Surely they must see reason and return my sister to us.”

  Tsisi fluttered to a screeching halt between us. “Gobbye! You’ll not bar our passage,” she said. “We simply must cross the bridge and gain the other side. The Brinc have one of them and they just can’t go on without her. The wit love deeply, you know, they always have. I once heard this beautiful love story but it was sad because one shot an arrow at the other—” She paused and placed her face in her tiny blue hands, as she slowly flashed into and out of visibility. She let loose a shuddering sigh. “I just can’t bear it, I just can’t.”

  The Gobbye wore a look of confusion on his scar-muddled face but it quickly changed to annoyance. He glanced at me, looking for an explanation, but I just shrugged.

  He finally turned his back to me and Tsisi and walked toward his clan. He looked over his shoulder one final time and grimaced at us. “Meab, bah!” he said.

  Book Eleven

  WE DECIDED AS one voice to let the Neisi go immediately after we crossed the Finlo River above the falls. We’d be closer to the edge of the low forest then and well away from the Neisi clan. If fortunate, we would be but a dim memory in the captive Neisi’s memory after we let it loose. Hopefully, it would attribute the time lost to a forest assignation or too much dance frolic in the falls.

  The trek to the high, swinging bridge was an arduous one, however, and trying to pull the docile creature up the steep, rocky hillside was rough. I was glad we had eaten and rested earlier.

  I paused halfway up and looked around. The views from the hill were magnificent. On one side below, there sloped a carpet of ancient oaks along with maple, hickory, elm, walnut, and tall, whitish birch trees. The other side was a gentle spread of green grass edged by the riverbank at the bottom of the falls. Just northwest, past that greenery, was a border of magic enhanced hedge, layered with woodbine and morning glory some eight feet tall. Peering through the branches of the trees, I could see part of the white edifice of the citadel. Fear stirred within me but I squelched it quickly. There was no time or energy for fear. I needed only my senses, my determination and my magic.

  “I really am sorry,” Memo said again as we mounted yet another huge boulder. “I thought I heard voices—”

  “Your join has surely warned you about the dangers of Gobbyes,” Yewsy interjected harshly. “And it was stupid for you to go wandering off that way. You should know better than that.”

  “I know. I do,” Memo mumbled, studying her feet.

  “She meant no harm, Yew. I’m just glad it ended well,”
I said, gauging the distance to the bridge. It was close. We had endured the worst of the climb. “Not far now,” I muttered.

  I glanced at Lemon and saw he was taking good care of the water sprite, guiding it carefully over rocks and across crevices. He glanced at me, and I smiled my approval.

  I heard Capel trill a note and it drew my attention her way. She began singing in a low warble, barely heard above the rushing water below us.

  May the powers of our Universe,

  the source of all creation,

  pervasive, eternal

  with the Goddess of the moon

  with the God of the sun

  and the spirits of the stones,

  rulers of the elemental realms,

  the stars above and the earth below,

  bless this place, this time, and who we are

  Eight voices joined in and rang as one as we prepared for the final hoist upward to the bridge. We sang it three times to make sure the Jana clan would hear and bless our journey into the highlands.

  I’d been told that the bridge had originally been built by Lutis, the keepers of the underworld, so that they could transport gold, mined in the mountain, down to the prosperous kingdom of the Astis. Since the Lutis are a stocky, sturdy lot, and the weight of the ore considerable, the suspended bridge was crafted wide and heavy, but during the centuries it deteriorated. Now used sporadically, only for high passage across the Finlo River, it was seldom maintained by its Luti builders and could be treacherous with broken boards and fraying ropes.

  We paused at the top and looked west toward the oddly barren Brinc lands. The borders of those lands would be upon us soon and we needed all the wit energy we could muster. Our brief time by the falls had energized us, although, truthfully, some of that may have been Tsisi’s abundant energy spilling over. I glanced at our little troupe, actually grateful that the Jana had stayed with us. Her constant chatter had buoyed all of us at one time or another. I studied RoseIII and saw grim determination on his face as he examined the bridge. His spiky ginger hair seemed to glow fiery in the sunlight, and I realized that he would make a good leader of the Thorn men when his father, RoseII, passed him the rule.