[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
her feet, covering her confusion with motion. The truth was
so complex as to defy explanation, so she merely nodded.
Sometimes we must simply follow our path to the end.
And sometimes we must know when to turn.
Muir paused, one hand on the fold of the woven curtain. If
there is something you would say to me, I ask that you do so
plainly. I do not have an ear for subtlety.
168
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
The war leader rose, looking somber. Your course is
foolish, and I dislike losing a tribal asset.... We have not had
an earthspeaker in more years than I can recall.
You seem certain I will not return.
Ghazi shrugged. You are bound to an afreet.
His words summed up the uncertainty of her position; she
belonged nowhere, committed to Rodhlann's whim, but the
Bedu valued her no more than the izzat. The only difference
was that they would use her gift instead of her strong back.
We will see, she said softly. Shade and water until we
meet again.
The sun had gone when she stepped from the tent, and
she turned her face toward Sahen and Anumati, staring at the
red hunter and his silver mistress. The light slanted into her
eyes in a chromatic veil, streaking her perception of the stars.
Out of habit, she found Kaveh and Minau before walking on.
Her breath showed in smoky wisps as she passed through the
settlement. Everyone was already indoors, cleaning up after
the evening meal even the goats were huddled beside the
herder's tent, as it was not yet cold enough for them to sleep
inside. From the eastern end of the encampment, she heard
the distant strains of Jibril's daughters singing of his death, a
chilling and wordless ululation. The Bedu funeral song would
continue for another two-hand days.
Rodhlann had already kindled the fire in the oven by the
time she returned, or someone had tended it in their absence.
He sat as close to the warmth as he could manage without
being burned, his slender hands fanned before him. The dry
dung blazed brightly and with surprisingly little odor; Muir
169
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
knew that the key to its efficiency was the salt the Bedu
applied prior to kindling it with straw. All Bedu girls knew how
to prepare the cakes, letting the sun do its work during Haar
so the tribe would have enough fuel to withstand the frost of
Behrid.
He spoke without looking at her. Did he convince you to
stay?
No. She sat beside him, smoothing the folds of her dress.
How are you able to know Shunnar and Ghazi's thoughts
without
I do not need a special gift to see what most humans are
thinking. Such transparent animals. His voice was clipped.
The implicit scorn roused her, and she sent him a snapping
look that he didn't see. This animal is going to save your
life.
Better an animal than a monster, wouldn't you say?
Rodhlann glanced at her then, an unfathomable look from
lucent eyes. His smile was shaded with dark dreams.
Muir grinned reluctantly, hating that he could disarm her
so. Have you eaten?
He shook his head, delicate as the wings of a dune fly.
Muir suspected his sting would prove as fierce. I cannot.
Her heart skipped a bit because she believed him. Can
you take a little blood?
Not without food, little maid. One without the other will
make me ill, but I cannot keep anything down. His mouth
compressed, revealing how much he hated detailing his
weakness.
170
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
Urgency made her feel edgy; she wanted to sharpen her
eating knife, but the sound irritated him. We will leave
tomorrow, but we cannot go overland. It was not a question;
she knew he was not strong enough to walk so far. We must
find a way to make the water carry us.
A pity your gift does not allow you to speak with the
river. By his wry tone, she knew it was a jest.
He stared into the oven what he saw there might have
been obvious even to one who was not filled with his
resonance. Muir glimpsed the images too, the dying flicker of
immortality, the vestiges of his life. His fingers were cold
when she covered them with her own. She knew a terrible
delight when he folded his hand over hers, silently, not
acknowledging the gesture.
Perhaps, she said, perhaps it does. And if not the river,
the stones.
What do you propose?
But Muir would not answer. She needed time to think the
idea through, time to develop confidence in her gift, but she
had only this night. The Bedu would rumble about her
departure if she did not go immediately. Soon enough, their
good intentions would evolve into her permanent captivity,
ostensibly for her protection, but largely for the status of the
tribe.
After he curled onto the pallet, she covered them both with
skins. It should have made her sweat, so close to the fire, but
Rodhlann stole her heat. The warmth bled from her skin to
his, where it slipped away. She put an arm about him, and
they nested like two matched bowls.
171
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
The hiss of the oven had nearly lulled her to sleep before
he spoke again. Do not let me devour you. For I will, given
the chance. But do not let me.
A monster that gives warning. You are not so wicked, I
think.
I am. A serpent may be handled safely when its fangs are
gone, but that does not take away its urge to bite.
Is that what you wish, Rodhlann? To bite me? When she
touched his hair, he put his head into the cradle of her palm.
He did not answer her question.
I loathe you, he whispered.
I know.
* * * *
In the morning, the Bedu women gathered to watch her on
the banks of the Omintago. Muir knew she looked mad,
searching and sifting in the water. She wore her patched
djellabah once more, their bags arrayed around her.
Rodhlann studied her, wrapped in a burnoose against the
biting wind. After about an hour, she found a light rock
riddled with holes. She curled her fingers about it and closed
her eyes. The stone was young, and it remembered the
journey from the fiery mountain into a stream that joined the
lazy Omintago, as all branches eventually did.
Are there more like you nearby?
The little stone seemed sure there were, so Muir made a
game of it, promising the Bedu children a blessing if they
helped her seek, and by lunchtime, she had an enormous
pile. She ate a bowl of rice hastily, scooped with damp
fingers. Bedu hunters paused in their practice to see what
172
Stone Maiden
by Ann Aquirre
lunacy she was about, and they stood with their women, a
dark circle of mystified curiosity.
She spoke the benison over the little ones and made a
pass over their heads. Whether her words carried any worth,
she had no idea. This was where she lacked confidence in her
gift the earth had always spoken freely, but she had never
tried to mold it to her will. Silently, Muir added a little prayer
as she lifted the first two small stones, pressed them together
and told them, Join.
Kadin laughed. She recognized the hunter's derision, but
the sound faded as the Bedu saw the seam where the two
stones were slowly melting together, a motion so slow and
fluid as to seem a mirage. Except that when she turned the
stone in her hands, there was one where there had been two.
It was slow work, but no one questioned her. She sat, her
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]