tribe might
know. Alaysha had never seen the repugnant thing before let alone know to eat
it.
It was one more thing that reminded her of
how ignorant she was. All she'd ever known was battle and loneliness, duty and
despair.
She resolved again to find out as much as
she could – and to get as far away from her father as she could. Now she'd
tasted freedom without the burden of duty, she rather enjoyed it.
As it turned out, Yenic's eyes were sore
enough that he lay curled next to the fire when they returned. The girl tried
her best to coax conversation with him, but he only grunted at her and rubbed
at his eyes.
"Don't worry," she said.
"It'll only hurt for a little while. We got it all off in plenty of
time."
He said nothing.
"And even if we hadn't, the effects
are only temporary. A day or so of hallucinations and swelling, and it's all
gone again."
He blinked. "But you got it all off in
time," he said blandly.
She smiled brightly. "Right."
"Right," he said and curled
further into an indignant ball and went to sleep without a further word.
Alaysha had made a cozy spot next to the
fire with her thatched mat and fur and let the girl crawl into the crook she
made with the curve of her body. She heard a small sigh and thought it might
have been her own. She might have shared her blanket with Yenic had things gone
differently.
"He's angry," Alaysha whispered
so not to disturb him.
"Yes, he's angry, but not half so
angry as he'll be tomorrow night."
"Why, what happens tomorrow?"
Alaysha was almost afraid to ask.
"The sun will gather on his cheeks
where the stripes are and store there till nighttime."
"And…?"
"And he will glow as brightly tomorrow
night as he does tonight."
Alaysha moaned softly. "For how
long?"
"It wears off after a couple of days.
The longer it stays painted on, the longer it lasts. He should stop glowing in
a couple of nights."
"Does he know this?"
The girl shook her head.
Come morning, Alaysha woke to a smoky,
dampened fire. She shivered beneath her fur and realized the girl was gone. She
lifted her head to peer across the smoke and saw Yenic sitting on a rock, knees
up, feet that were filthy from rummaging planted solidly against the stone. He
was munching on a handful of what she presumed were nuts, popping one after the
other into his mouth and chewing thoroughly.
He was staring straight at her and her
heart made an almost audible thunk in her chest.
"Where is the girl?" she asked
him.
He shrugged.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough."
"What does that mean?" She wasn't
sure anymore what to make of him. Was he still angry at her for killing his
sister, for mentioning the unborn child?
He let one foot slide off the rock, and
then the other until he stood and stretched. His rib cage lifted and Alaysha
could see the way the ribbon of tattaus actually went up underneath his armpit
and onto the fleshy, tender spot of his tricep.
"Do all our tribe have these
tattaus?"
He shook his head and some of his hair
stuck to his cheek and left strands of black beneath the faint glow of green.
"Did you see tattaus on all the people you killed back there?" He
jerked his head in the direction of the arid piece of land. His voice almost
sounded condescending until she caught his amber eyes with her own, then she
realized his ego was still just hurting from the trick they'd played on him.
And so she was able to give it some
thought. The first man had the markings, yes. And a few of the others. The
crones did: theirs were identical in placement as her own. The children were
clean, though. And most of the women.
"Your sister was marked."
He nodded warily, but it looked like he was
trying to keep the wariness from his eyes. They still looked like benign, sweet
honey. She thought of the honey bee she'd seen trapped in a gem of amber that
her nohma had shown her when she was a few seasons old, then she promptly
reburied the memory. Thoughts of Nohma were too painful. She struggled to pull
her
know. Alaysha had never seen the repugnant thing before let alone know to eat
it.
It was one more thing that reminded her of
how ignorant she was. All she'd ever known was battle and loneliness, duty and
despair.
She resolved again to find out as much as
she could – and to get as far away from her father as she could. Now she'd
tasted freedom without the burden of duty, she rather enjoyed it.
As it turned out, Yenic's eyes were sore
enough that he lay curled next to the fire when they returned. The girl tried
her best to coax conversation with him, but he only grunted at her and rubbed
at his eyes.
"Don't worry," she said.
"It'll only hurt for a little while. We got it all off in plenty of
time."
He said nothing.
"And even if we hadn't, the effects
are only temporary. A day or so of hallucinations and swelling, and it's all
gone again."
He blinked. "But you got it all off in
time," he said blandly.
She smiled brightly. "Right."
"Right," he said and curled
further into an indignant ball and went to sleep without a further word.
Alaysha had made a cozy spot next to the
fire with her thatched mat and fur and let the girl crawl into the crook she
made with the curve of her body. She heard a small sigh and thought it might
have been her own. She might have shared her blanket with Yenic had things gone
differently.
"He's angry," Alaysha whispered
so not to disturb him.
"Yes, he's angry, but not half so
angry as he'll be tomorrow night."
"Why, what happens tomorrow?"
Alaysha was almost afraid to ask.
"The sun will gather on his cheeks
where the stripes are and store there till nighttime."
"And…?"
"And he will glow as brightly tomorrow
night as he does tonight."
Alaysha moaned softly. "For how
long?"
"It wears off after a couple of days.
The longer it stays painted on, the longer it lasts. He should stop glowing in
a couple of nights."
"Does he know this?"
The girl shook her head.
Come morning, Alaysha woke to a smoky,
dampened fire. She shivered beneath her fur and realized the girl was gone. She
lifted her head to peer across the smoke and saw Yenic sitting on a rock, knees
up, feet that were filthy from rummaging planted solidly against the stone. He
was munching on a handful of what she presumed were nuts, popping one after the
other into his mouth and chewing thoroughly.
He was staring straight at her and her
heart made an almost audible thunk in her chest.
"Where is the girl?" she asked
him.
He shrugged.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough."
"What does that mean?" She wasn't
sure anymore what to make of him. Was he still angry at her for killing his
sister, for mentioning the unborn child?
He let one foot slide off the rock, and
then the other until he stood and stretched. His rib cage lifted and Alaysha
could see the way the ribbon of tattaus actually went up underneath his armpit
and onto the fleshy, tender spot of his tricep.
"Do all our tribe have these
tattaus?"
He shook his head and some of his hair
stuck to his cheek and left strands of black beneath the faint glow of green.
"Did you see tattaus on all the people you killed back there?" He
jerked his head in the direction of the arid piece of land. His voice almost
sounded condescending until she caught his amber eyes with her own, then she
realized his ego was still just hurting from the trick they'd played on him.
And so she was able to give it some
thought. The first man had the markings, yes. And a few of the others. The
crones did: theirs were identical in placement as her own. The children were
clean, though. And most of the women.
"Your sister was marked."
He nodded warily, but it looked like he was
trying to keep the wariness from his eyes. They still looked like benign, sweet
honey. She thought of the honey bee she'd seen trapped in a gem of amber that
her nohma had shown her when she was a few seasons old, then she promptly
reburied the memory. Thoughts of Nohma were too painful. She struggled to pull
her
Similar Books
In the Court of the Yellow King
Tim Curran, Cody Goodfellow, Gary McMahon, C.J. Henderson, William Meikle, T.E. Grau, Laurel Halbany, Christine Morgan, Edward Morris
