Season of Hytalia

by Jennifer Arntson

  “No one except Lark,” I reminded him.

  “I heard my name.” He traipsed up onto the ridge.

  “Great.” I drank more water.

  “They don’t know you came into the meeting, either,” Nik added.

  “So you two just clear people of whatever you don’t want them to know? Is that the way it works? One knows the future, the other clears the past?”

  “No, I told them everything. The Council took a vote and decided unanimously that their memories should be cleared of the whole event.”

  “We don’t clear the Membership unless we all agree,” Lark said, sitting to face us.

  “Why did you bother discussing it at all? He already said we didn’t do anything wrong, remember?”

  “We didn’t.” Nik picked at the grass. “I explained everything and decided the information shared was unnecessary. The way Paw handled it, however, was immature and damaging. You don’t have to be a Seer to know it would affect your relationship going forward. He volunteered to be cleared, and the others accepted the removal of their own memory to protect the integrity of the Council. Your actions only reinforced your nomination, so we agreed on a plan of action and dealt with the issue.”

  “I’m here as a witness to make sure Nik follows through with the plan as decided.” Lark grabbed a sausage out of the basket.

  “That’s it? Nothing ever happened? Poof. It’s all better?” I snickered. “Or is this when you ask me to come back and keep quiet about the other night, an innocent evening turned into a coveted secret?” I took out a muffin and broke it in half.

  “I want you to come back to the camp.” Nik hesitated, glancing up at Lark, who waited patiently for him to continue. “You don’t have to hide anything or pretend we’re something we’re not.”

  The longer this morning dragged out, the more confused I became. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I want you to stay. With me.”

  “The last time I stayed with you, someone had to erase the memories of the Council. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Hear him out,” Lark insisted. “Nik, get on with it so she can make her choice.”

  My choice?

  He dropped the grass he’d plucked up by the roots. “Lark, can you give us some privacy?”

  “Nik, the Council mandated I stand witness to the account.”

  I started to get nervous. Whatever happened after I left their meeting must have been far more serious than I gave it credit. All we did was sleep. Why would the others make Lark witness anything? Had there been some decree of the Council not to befriend each other?

  “I told you I’ve not seen your future, and I haven’t. However, the other night when we were together, I did something I shouldn’t have.” He came closer, trying to put Lark in his periphery. “You know how when you have a vision while you sleep, you can pick a different path and see how it ends up?”

  “Yeah” I said cautiously.

  “My parents called it ‘exploring.’ It doesn’t happen very often, usually only when the Seer wishes that a situation turns out a particular way.” He was stalling, and I was not the only one to notice.

  “He ‘explored’ something with you. I’m here to make sure he tells you about it so you can exercise your free will,” Lark said before taking another bite of his sausage link.

  “Gods damn it, Lark!” he huffed. “This is my task, not yours!”

  I put the muffin back in the basket. “What did you see?”

  Nik didn’t answer; he spent a moment scowling at his attendant.

  I snapped my fingers. “Hello? What did you see?”

  “Two paths, although I followed one further than the other.”

  “Does this have to do with Calish?”

  Nik nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  “You and I were here on this overlook. Together. Alone. I asked you to stay, and you accepted my invitation. We continued your training, you joined the Council, and we were happy.”

  “As in the two of you became more than friends.” Lark finished his link and wiped his hands on his pants.

  Nik did not appreciate Lark’s interruption. “I don’t know exactly what we were. I didn’t try to define it. I didn’t expect to have to share this with anyone. What I can tell you is that we were, in some way, committed to each other.”

  My heart pounded inside my chest. “And the other one?”

  I sensed Nik didn’t want to say, which made me want to know even more. “In the other vision, you left to find Calish with the intention of assessing him.”

  “And?” I waited for him to continue.

  “And you found him.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know, so I didn’t pursue that ending.”

  I wanted to slug him. “That tells me nothing!”

  Lark tried to explain the mechanics of our current situation. “Una, the Council required Nik to tell you, not to influence your decision to stay or leave. He took advantage of his gift. He chose to explore your future as it applies to his without your knowledge. Without your permission. To use our gifts in such a way is against the Membership’s charter. We never act in a way that indulges self-interests.”

  Nik’s voice, barely audible, recited, “Council members are servants to the Resistance, elected to look after the interests of its people.”

  “So this isn’t about Calish at all, is it?”

  No. It isn’t, but could it be?

  I thought about the previous night. The comfort I found. The understanding and nurturing. The lovers in the mirror’s reflection.

  The lovers.

  Lark glanced at his colleague as if he pitied him. “Nik did something he shouldn’t have. But he can’t take back what he saw. The Council decided he needed to confess this to you so you could use the information as you see fit.”

  My head felt so full, I feared it might explode at any moment. Did it matter what he saw? The future could not, would not, change the past. Who cares about the future? Calish left. He wanted to marry another woman. He abandoned me, and that would never change. Free will may mold my future, but I could never erase my past, except…

  Lark could.

  “Then clear me of it. Clear me of Calish, my love for him, take away the knowing that he will marry someone else,” I cried. “Clear me of my night with Nik, clear him of it, too. Let me start over. Please.”

  Please.

  The two men glanced at each other. “I can’t do that. Not this time. Not to a Seer. Even if you weren’t a Seer, I couldn’t. There’s too much there to unravel. You see, I can take back chunks of time, like I did with your parents. A Charmer can erase a meeting or event, but the farther we get from the point, the less likely it can be done. Memories build on one another, intertwining throughout your personal history. The older they are, the more permanent they become. Dissolution of a lifelong relationship? It’s not possible. I couldn’t even remove us from your mind by now.” He stood. “Nik, you’ve fulfilled your duty in this matter, so I’m going to go now. Una, whatever it is you choose, know that we still believe in you and your future here.”

  Wait! Don’t go! Can’t you at least try?

  Lark left us alone. I couldn’t even look at Nik. I had no words, nothing to say.

  Why can’t we try?

  “I know I’m not him,” he said quietly.

  I shook my head. “You’re not supposed to be.”

  “I didn’t intend to pry.”

  “I do it on accident all the time; how can I be angry at you for doing the same thing? At least you stopped.”

  “I didn’t want to see you with him. I know it’s not right. We were just so happy.” He cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t mean that you’re not going to be happy with him. You could be happy with Calish.” He picked at the grass again.

  That doesn’t mean that you’re not going to be happy with him.

  He said I found him.

  He said
I assessed him.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”

  You could be happy with Calish.

  I touched my abdomen. “My child, is it a boy or a girl?”

  Nik furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged uncomfortably. “Does it matter? All children are a blessing.”

  He’d missed the meaning of my question completely. He’d seen our future together, but how far? Any man who takes a woman also takes her children, but he didn’t spend any time in his exploration as anything but a committed couple? To what end?

  “Do you love me, Nik?”

  My question seemed to surprise him. “For the purpose of my confession, it doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  He gazed into the grass and bobbed his head. “You’re right, I am.”

  I waited for a more direct answer.

  “Love means different things to different people. I have been given love and I have received love in various ways. The feelings I have for you are unlike anything I’ve known.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s love.”

  He pressed his lips together and focused somewhere on the horizon.

  “You’ve taught me so much. One of those things is to judge a person’s motivations, not the outcome. How will I ever know if I don’t find out? How could I go on knowing I didn’t try?”

  Nik caught my gaze, his eyes thick with tears he couldn’t blink away. “Why do you think I’m here now?” He reached for my hand, letting his fingers intertwine in mine.

  You’re not the kind of woman a man simply walks away from.

  “I really do care for you, but I have to go find him.”

  A single tear fell from each of his brown eyes. “Or you could stay.”

  I let his hand fall onto the soft grass below. “I’m sorry.”

  He turned his face from me to wipe away his tears in private. “I’ve readied a horse for you,” he said just above a whisper. “It’s the fastest one in the stable. I packed up your new clothes and plenty of food to get you there and back.”

  “How did you know what I would choose?”

  He sniffled. “I didn’t. I just couldn’t stand to watch you pack if you did.”

  “I hope you know I’m not angry. My decision is not a punishment. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Then prove it to me.” He stood, straightening his shoulders to hurry his composure.

  “How?”

  He surveyed the camp. “After you’ve found what you’re looking for, come back to us.” He turned with his hand extended to help me up.

  I accepted his offer to assist me and let him pull me to my feet.

  With a light chuckle, he removed a dried leaf from my hair, and we watched it float to the ground. “The only future I want is one with you in it, even if you’re with someone else,” he said. “These people need you. I need you. I’m not sure I can do this without you.”

  “You’re underestimating yourself. Don’t you see what you’ve accomplished already?”

  “This camp doesn’t exist because of me.”

  “Don’t be foolish.”

  Nik caressed my arm, an intimate expression for a hopeful man. “Come back.”

  * * *

  I left the ridge to find my parents. The right thing to do would be to let them know I was leaving. I had to let them know, yet, by the time I reached the front gate, I changed my mind. If they knew my plan, they’d protest or insist on accompanying me. No one said anything about an escort, so I wouldn’t allow one to be lost along the way.

  This I’ll have to do myself, and if I don’t go now, I may not have the courage to do it later.

  The stables were near the entrance, and as Nik said, a horse was dressed and ready. My cloak hung on a hook just outside the stall, and someone pinned a note to the inside. As much as I felt rushed to leave, I took a moment to see who wrote it. The cream parchment had been washed, and new bold ink covered the faded markings too faint to see.

  May the Great One be with you.

  Lark, Paw, Hawk, Oyal, and Nik.

  High on the ridge, Nik stood under the tallest evergreen tree. He seemed so small from this distance. While some might believe he was surveying the Camp and its people as he often did, I felt his eyes on me. It’s not that I didn’t want to stay. If he hadn’t explored our potential future, if I wasn’t sure I’d make it safely down the hill, I would probably never leave.

  I touched my belly, which grew larger every day. Inside I felt a little flutter, almost like eyelashes opening and closing on the back of my hand. It was the second time I felt my baby move. As if it were a sign, I mounted the horse and led him to the gate.

  The length of the stirrups and contour of the saddle felt like they had been made for me. In the saddlebag to my right, I found enough food to keep me nourished for two days. On the other side, a pack of matches, flint, a blade, and other survival items were included for my benefit. Nik had thought of everything. Even in his hope to have me stay, he sought to support the interest of my decision.

  By finding Calish and reading him, was I interrupting the execution of his free will? No. My intention would not be to change his mind, only to understand his motivation. Perhaps if I accomplished that, I would find a way to let go of the rejection and abandonment he made me feel. My heart ached with the thought of him loving Merci more than he loved me. Was that how Nik felt about me? I glanced up to the ridge, hoping to see him still there, but he had gone.

  A shred of doubt ran down my middle. Still, the horse moved forward.

  What am I doing?

  “Miss Una, do you have an escort?” the guard asked as I approached.

  “No.”

  Don’t let me pass.

  “Then give me a moment, and I’ll go with you myself,” he offered.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said, pulling back on the reins to slow the animal. “I’ve seen when I die, and today is not that day.”

  But it might be the day my heart stops.

  “As you wish, miss.” The guard bowed and opened the gate to let me pass.

  No. I’m not ready. Not yet!

  With no guidance from me, the horse darted through the trees toward the road. I assumed Paw gave instructions before Lark cleared his memory. Would a conversation between the two make the Communicator remember anything taken?

  Soaring past Marsh and the other security team on duty outside, I ignored their orders to stop, not that it mattered. The future had started its course, and we were all subject to it. I’m sure my sudden departure violated a number of camp rules. Any questions could be answered by Nik or Lark. If nothing else, my escape brought attention to a flaw in their attempt to protect the perimeter.

  How far does Lark’s containment reach? Will the team be cleared, too? Will anyone know I left?

  The horse found the road and, in a long arch, turned toward the river and gained speed. He cut through the rain with such grace, the water droplets seemed to hang in the air by his command. Nik was right; he picked an outstanding specimen.

  Chapter 30

  I passed the turnoff to our house and successfully cleared every fallen tree until that point. As I descended the hill and the population grew, I noticed the trees that could be dragged to the edge of the road were moved, but the ones too big to move were notched. Sections wide enough for my horse to pass had been removed and left to the side. The smell of new wood, sap, and pine was as inviting as it was dangerous. Although it made traveling easier, I bet thieves took advantage of this bottleneck for their own purposes. It was impossible to see on the other side of the trees, so whenever I came to a pass-through point, I made my horse run through it.

  There were few travelers. Any I saw wandered hopelessly, like spirits in a children’s story, between poorly made shelters. Hundreds of makeshift homes crammed along the side of the road, staying upright by the ones around them. One gust of wind, and whoever sought comfort by them would be trapped, if not k
illed. Claimed materials such as fallen branches, clothing, and broken boards constructed together made an entire city of homes worse than any Scavenger’s dwelling I could imagine.

  I knew firsthand how difficult it was to stay dry in Hytalia. One year, the roof on our house gave way to carpenter larvae, a wood-eating worm. Usually they enter through the bark and the point of entry is easily seen, but these hid under the moss and disseminated the entire round before making themselves known. The log filled with rainwater, which gave a nice residence to mature water moths who subsequently laid more carpenter eggs. With the rain at the peak of the season, protecting the house from further damage was impossible. The market was closed during Hytalia, and the only way to ask for help from Pantis would have been to knock on his door, a task that very well could end in execution for a Scavenger.

  My brothers and I lined the roof with wood from our reclaimed pile and nailed clothing to it to flow the water from the compromised spot. The rest of the season, the family slept in the kitchen to keep the mattresses from getting wet and molding. As soon as the market opened, Pantis tossed a perfectly usable tarp in the road outside our house, next to a box of straight nails and herbs used to control carpenter infestation.

  Even though our situation seemed bad at the time, the surviving residents suffered worse than we ever did. Many used cloaks to keep their area dry, although the effort did little to prevent the dirt from turning to mud beneath them. No one had an advantage here. No one left supplies for them to find. They were either sharing what they had or were forced to steal it from someone else.

  In a place created out of a dining room table and torn bedsheets, I spied a mother and young boy rummaging through things within. Their quickened pace and hushed voices were evidence enough that the place wasn’t theirs. Still, they would be hungry, and I had enough to share.

  “Hey, you! Little boy!” I shouted, digging into my food supply.

  Sadly, instead of offering them something to eat as I intended, I frightened them. The woman grabbed her son by the wrist and dragged him into the woods. They acted like Reclaimers, but I doubted they were. Strange. I sat atop of a well-dressed steed, in fitted clothing, with bags filled with food, while Citizens, dressed in dirty clothes, ran scared into the shadows.