by Jeri Baird
Melina Odella picked up the thread of the story. “While they climbed the steep sides of the gulch, every wagon broke a wheel. Only Moira works in this way. Our ancestors built the village on the upper rim of the gulch. The first building Puck constructed was this Quinary, to represent the five tribes living in harmony. He dedicated it to both the God who led them to safety and to Moira who kept them here. Unfortunately, Hedron Puck died in a hunting accident in the gulch before he could establish his dream of equality for all, regardless of tribe or lineage. Without a leader, five elders stepped forward and created the order we live in today.” She stared out at the elders. “Puck’s vision of each tribe having an equal voice died with him.”
Clearing his throat, the priest said, “At the first New Year celebration, Moira came in a vision to the priest and the fortune-teller and told them of the quest she ordained for our young people. Moira would reward or punish the sixteen-year-olds with tokens and omens for their actions. She gave the priest and fortune-teller the duty of teaching the questers how to use them in the five-day quest. Only the teens worthy of joining our society as adults would survive. Each year since, it has been our tradition.”
Alexa caught her mother’s tear-filled eyes and took a quick breath. Mother worried too much.
“Today we celebrate our past and look to our future,” Melina Odella said. “These young people, standing before you with their appointed patrons, represent our hopes for a productive society.”
“Let us pray.” Father Chanse raised his arms, fingers pointing to the sky. His green eyes drifted across the crowd as his voice boomed. “We bless these questers and ask our God to keep them safe. May their good actions and pure thoughts bring the tokens needed to survive their quest. Purify their sinful nature that they may take their productive places among us. And if they refuse to bend to thy will, we release them to the fate of the quest.”
The priest strolled across the stage, sprinkling holy water on each bent, submissive head, blessing them. When he reached Alexa, he said, “Blessings, my child, in your time of magic.”
A young acolyte followed, swinging a metal censer. Alexa swallowed a cough as the burning sage wafted over her.
As Father Chanse reached Merindah, who stood last in line, Zander dashed in to stand next to her. A coyote pup pressed into his legs.
The crowd murmured and cast worried looks at each other. Alexa’s heart quickened. There would be thirteen questers. She hadn’t realized until that moment. Unlucky thirteen.
CHAPTER FIVE
Zander
With his sides heaving from his run, Zander joined the group as the priest blessed the last in line. Having never been to church, he looked at the priest, hoping for guidance. Instead, Zander glimpsed the priest’s secret and staggered at the unhappiness hung like a noose around the priest’s heart. Zander glanced at the fortune-teller, the source of the priest’s pain. Anger colored Father Chanse’s face, and Zander remembered his father’s warning to stay in the priest’s good graces.
The priest sprinkled Zander with water and stepped to the side. When the fortune-teller took his place, Zander shuddered. The woman frightened and fascinated him at the same time. Tradition gave the priest and fortune-teller equal power in the village affairs, but when the elders controlled the land and the people who worked for them, it gave the elders an unspoken power.
Zander hated the elders and their first-born who inherited their power. A hornet buzzed by his head, turned to stone, and dropped by magic into his pocket. He sucked in a sharp breath. Another omen.
Turning to the questers, the fortune-teller seemed to float down the line. One by one she gazed into their eyes. She gave each a single word to symbolize his or her journey through the quest. “Rain, oak, pheasant, rock, rose.” Melina Odella’s hesitated in front of Alexa, the girl with golden curls. The fortune-teller touched Alexa’s cheek and paused as if listening. “Night,” Melina Odella whispered. On she drifted, her garments swishing. “Pearl, silver, owl, lily, wind.” To Merindah she said, “Anchor.”
When the fortune-teller faced Zander, he trembled. He viewed so many secrets in her eyes, he couldn’t sort them. Melina Odella held his chin and her face softened. When a smile tugged at her mouth, Zander longed for the mother he couldn’t remember.
She whispered, “Day.”
He didn’t understand, and he thought he should.
CHAPTER SIX
Five and a Half Months until the Quest
Alexa
The Twelve Day Feast ended with a storm that blanketed the village in fluffy, white snow. On the thirteenth day of the New Year, quester lessons began twice each week. Alexa already missed Fiona as she trudged through the snow to the church. The priest had been adamant about leaving their patrons at home during their lessons. She’d had twelve days to bond with Fiona and hated leaving her.
Alexa trailed Dharien and Paal to the white stone church. Round windows curtained in purple silk flanked each side of the thick oak door. An X imbedded with dark and light pebbles graced the top of the door, representing God and Fate working together.
Merindah fidgeted inside the door. “I got my first token—a dove! I can’t wait to learn what it means.” Her eyes sparkled as she pulled the inch-long, ivory-colored bird from her pocket. “I stopped to help an old woman who spilled her wagon of parsnips on the way to market. As I turned to go, her eyes shone like emeralds and she pressed it into my palm.”
Alexa and Merindah wound through the dark halls of the church until they found the lecture hall. Thirteen oak chairs formed a circle in the room. Alexa hesitated at the door. The other questers fiddled with their journals and glanced nervously at the priest and fortune-teller standing on opposite sides of the room.
“Find a seat,” Father Chanse grumbled.
“Yes, Father.” Alexa pulled Merindah across the room and sat next to Paal.
Dharien called out, “Paal, sit with me.”
Paal shrugged and moved next to Dharien as Zander burst into the room. The priest pointed to the empty chair next to Alexa.
Zander slouched in the seat, staring at his hands clutched around the pouch on his lap. He turned to Alexa with wide eyes. “You . . . you smell of bread!”
Eyes flashing, she hissed, “I live at a bakery!”
Zander paled and then turned red. His eyes bore into hers before he dropped his gaze. What was wrong with him? She hated smelling like bread, and she didn’t need him reminding her of it.
The priest rapped his knuckles against a side table. Alexa ignored Zander, but she couldn’t forget those blue eyes.
“We’re here to help you understand the use and importance of tokens and the dangers of omens,” the fortune-teller said. “It’s important you hold safe your tokens, for if lost or misplaced, they cannot help you during the quest.” Her face darkened. “However, the omens will appear during the quest whether you carry them or not. Over the next several months, we’ll play games of strategy to help you learn to use your tokens to defeat your omens. This is theory. The quest will play out as it will, and is always full of surprises, testing your limits. But those of you who survive the quest will be prepared to join a guild as an apprentice and become a productive adult in society.”
Gazing around the circle, Alexa assumed most of them shared the same questions as they stared at each other. Who would return? Who would not?
Melina Odella encouraged good deeds and wholesome thoughts. “Earning tokens assures Moira of your worthiness.”
Father Chanse tapped his foot as he spoke. “The easiest way to receive omens is by committing the five deadly sins.” He sauntered around the circle. “I’ll begin with the sin of pride. When you think of yourself as better than another, or that your gifts come from yourself and not as given by God, you are prideful. The omen for pride is a peacock.”
Melina Odella stepped in front of the priest. “Humility cures pride
. Practice allowing others to come before yourself. The token given for humility is a sparrow. It may seem foolish now, but when you’re tired and alone in the forest, a muster of peacocks can overwhelm you with their pecking. Tossing out one sparrow token will vanquish one peacock. If you’ve earned more peacocks than sparrows, then you’ll have to find another way to fight them.”
The priest continued, “The second sin is envy, longing to possess something belonging to another. The omen is a scorpion.”
“And the cure is kindness,” the fortune-teller added. “The token being a dove. When a scorpion appears during the quest, if you throw out a dove token, the bird will eat the scorpion.”
Merindah’s face lit. “It’s a good one,” she whispered to Alexa.
“The hornet represents anger and is the third sin,” the priest said. “Too many stings in the quest can be fatal.”
Melina Odella smiled. “Patience cures wrath. The token is a turtle. The lowly turtle loves to snap up hornets. You may receive other tokens and omens. Moira is creative and delights in surprises.”
Alexa raised her hand. “What about our patrons? Does the kind we get mean anything?”
“Your patrons are given by Moira as an extra encouragement to do good deeds.” The priest smiled. “One of your tasks is to discover how your patron might help in the quest. They are a token you can use if needed.”
“However,” Melina Odella added, “if you use them in the quest, they disappear. By the time of the quest you will have bonded with your animal and you may wish to keep them. You need to earn enough tokens to avoid the heartache of losing yours.” She walked around the room and handed each teen a wooden token representing their patron. “Guard these well.”
Alexa marveled at the small carved ferret. She already loved Fiona. She wouldn’t risk her life. Besides, how could a ferret help in the quest?
“Keeping your patron through the quest strengthens your favor.” Melina Odella smiled at the silver wolf sleeping in the corner. “I can’t imagine life without Sheba. She’s been my constant companion. And because of Moira’s magic, your patron will live as long as you do, so it will be your life-long friend.”
The priest cleared his throat. “Sometimes using your patron is the only way to survive the quest.” His cheeks were tinged pink. “You’ll notice I don’t have a patron. I had a hard decision to make, and I regret that I had to use mine, but he saved my life.”
Next to her, Zander gasped and then stared at his bag. What was his problem?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zander
He hadn’t meant to offend Alexa. The smell of bread had caught him by surprise. It was when he scanned her black eyes that Zander had been shocked. He didn’t want to know her secrets, and Alexa’s stunned him. Without understanding why, he vowed to do everything he could to prevent that secret from becoming truth.
He glanced across the circle at the peasant cousins, Odo and Kaiya. He knew them from the festivals. For his size, Odo was a decent wrestler, and Kaiya was always at the competitions, cheering for him. They shared the Yapi traits of straight brown hair and open hazel eyes. Both were big-boned, but too thin. When they returned his stare, their hunger punched his gut. He ate well every night and flushed at the unfairness. A Protector would help, and Zander resolved to find a way to ease their pain.
Although Father had taught him his numbers and how to read instead of sending him to the church school, Zander knew the other questers from the festivals. The elders’ sons, Paal and Dharien, benefitted from regular training with the Protectors and always did well in the tournaments. Zander had chummed around with Cobie when they didn’t have to work at their fathers’ booths.
Zander glanced at Father Chanse as he talked of the omens. Father hated the priest as much as he hated the elders, so they didn’t attend church. If the priest was as boring in services as he was in class, then Zander was happy he’d spent his Sundays in the forest. The elders attended church, so it was the perfect day to poach.
When Father Chanse admitted using his patron in the quest, Zander lost any respect he might have had for the priest. What kind of person would do that? He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him. He’d never put Shadow in danger.
With the promise of the other two sins to be discussed in the next class, the priest dismissed them at the noon bell. Most of the questers rushed out the door. They had chores or needed to work in the family business. Zander lagged behind, hoping to speak privately with Melina Odella.
As he stood, Merindah brushed against his pack.
Her eyes widened. “What’s in there?”
He pulled the flap open, and the coyote poked his nose out. Merindah jumped, and Zander laughed. He whispered, “This is Shadow.”
Merindah scratched the pup’s head. “Why did you bring him?” She glanced at the priest. “Father Chanse said to leave them at home.”
“I don’t trust my father not to toss him in the gulch.” Zander closed the flap and put his finger to his lips. “Our secret?”
Merindah hesitated and then nodded.
When Zander turned, the priest loomed in front of him. Father Chanse held out a thorn. “You were late today. This omen will trouble you in the quest. Take care to earn no more.”
Zander rubbed the wooden thorn between his fingers before he met the priest’s eyes. Once again he witnessed the priest’s unhappiness. He blushed and stared at the floor.
“The correct response is ‘Thank you Father, for helping me become a better person,’” the priest spat.
Zander clenched his jaw and said tersely, “Thank you . . . Father.” He jerked back when a hornet omen fell from the ceiling and dropped at his feet. It rattled against the stone floor as if to mock his lack of self-control. Already he needed to earn two turtles.
The priest smirked before turning to march out, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.
Alone with the fortune-teller, Zander considered his words. “Melina Odella?” Her fragrance calmed him and reminded him of the scent from his journal.
She searched his face. “You have a favor from Moira you don’t understand.” It wasn’t a question.
Moira had warned him to keep his favor a secret. Could he trust his teacher? He took a deep breath. He needed to know what to do. “When I look in someone’s eyes, I see things I shouldn’t know.”
“Ah,” she said, “and you wonder what to do with those secrets.”
He nodded.
“Zander, do you know the meaning of your name?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t know my name had a meaning.”
Melina Odella opened a green velvet pouch tied at her waist and held out a small red heart carved from wood. “Follow your heart, Zander, and you will understand.”
“Ma’am? The priest . . .”
“The priest’s secrets are best kept, Zander.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And Zander?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t let the priest know you bring your patron to class.”
Zander blushed. Did the fortune-teller know everything?
After leaving the church, Zander hesitated outside the door. He lifted Shadow from his bag and set him on the ground where the pup promptly squatted to pee. Zander slung his bag over one shoulder before he trailed after the cousins. He kept his distance so they wouldn’t notice him. Invisible. He rubbed the red heart before stuffing it in his leather pouch. They didn’t have to be hungry. He would help. He would do as Melina Odella advised and follow his heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alexa
After the lesson, Alexa and Merindah threaded through the streets avoiding the carts, horse-drawn wagons, and the swarm of shoppers with overflowing baskets of vegetables and baked goods. Clamorous vendors hanging over wooden stalls hawked bright bolts of cloth and leather goods. The harsh clan
g of metal against metal reverberated from the copper workers pounding out bowls.
Alexa held her sleeve against her nose to filter the metallic tang. “I hate that boy, Zander.”
“I think he’s cute,” Merindah replied. “Even with his chipped tooth. And those blue eyes. Aya! I think he likes you. He kept sneaking glances at you during class.”
They rounded the corner to the west side of the market. Alexa’s mouth watered when the aroma of smoky grilled pork and spiced nuts drifted from their stands. She stepped around a band of ragged dogs sniffing for dropped food.
“He thinks I smell like bread.” Alexa wrinkled her nose.
“You do smell like bread. There’s worse. Your mother could be the butcher, and you’d stink of dead pigs.”
Alexa muttered, “I still hate him. And what about the bag he carried? He clung to it like it was gold.”
Merindah smiled and shook her head. “It must be important to him.”
As they parted, a hornet buzzed Alexa and fell to the ground as a stone. She tossed her hair and grabbed the omen for anger.
When she reached the bakery, Alexa ran upstairs to check on Fiona. The sleeping ferret opened one eye and yawned before stretching. Alexa rubbed her belly and kissed her nose.
“I have to help Mother. I’ll be back later.”
Alexa skipped down the steps and took her place at the counter. Her grumbling stomach would have to wait for the buyers to thin out. She spent the next three hours selling bread. She handed oat bread to the peasants, rye and sweet breads to the merchants, and fancy cakes to the elders who clamored for Mother’s secret recipes. Mother’s favor from Moira was understanding how to mix herbs for flavor. Lavender was one of many herbs Mother used to make her cakes unique.