The Wittering Way (8 page)

“Don’t you know who she is?” Capel said from her position behind Talew. She peeped around and glared at the Gobbye female. “She’s the daughter of DaisyFir Widdershin, Mother of the Widdershin join and of the Witta clan.”

Lise sneered at Capel, who ducked back behind Talew. “I care not for titles, smooth face. But payment. Payment must be true and fast.”

I backed away from Lise and held up my hands. “Choose another way. We have many treasures that we can use as payment.”

“No.” The male Gobbye finally spoke but not in my defense. “Blood is a good honest payment. Blood it is.”

The Gobbyes, men, women and children, rushed as one toward me. I felt my own little troupe rush toward my back. In my mind, my sense, I clearly saw the injuries that would result from this encounter so I spread my arms wide and stirred magic deep within my core. It radiated out into my arms and the Gobbyes and Meab both recoiled from the energy.

“Stop!” I cried out. “All of you.”

I inhaled a deep breath then pushed up the left sleeve of my tunic. “Fine. Blood it will be.”

I fixed the male Gobbye with a determined stare as I extended my arm to Lise. With my free hand, I made the finger gestures for the relief of pain, wishing that I had a good-sized sprig of rosemary to go along with it.

Lise took my arm in one hand and her unwashed smell wafted to me. I gagged but managed to get my disgust under control. I watched as she turned the stone in her hand, no doubt seeking the sharpest side, but looked away when I felt the edge against the skin of my inner forearm. I set my teeth together as the edge dug in. I refused to wince and kept my features neutral as I looked at the male Gobbye. I watched as his eyes took on a respectful cast.

“Lise,” he said quietly. “Enough.”

The Gobbye woman mercifully took the sharp edge away, but reached down and gathered a handful of dirt and tiny gravel, which she proceeded to rub into the wound. The pain then was unbearable and it was all I could do not to scream. Instead, I lowered my eyes as tears sprouted in them, pretending to examine the wound. It was a narrow, ragged gash, no longer than the length of my hand. It was layered with sandy soil, and I jerked the arm from her so I could shake off the loose pebbles.

“You belong to us, now,” Lise said jeeringly.

I blinked my eyes and turned to the male. “Will you allow us peaceful passage?” I asked.

He inclined his head and the entire group seemed to melt silently into the landscape.

“Talew, you and RoseIII let the Neisi loose,” I said, wrapping my arm in a scarf I pulled from my bag. “Go downriver some, toward the falls. He’ll get back to his tribe faster that way.”

“Do you want me to heal that?” Yewsy said, staying my hand as I wrapped the scarf. “I know it must hurt.”

“It’s fine,” I said, tucking the cloth in neatly. “Let’s get moving before they come back.”

“I think they’re done,” Saffron said, laying one hand over my bandaged wound. I felt the healing energy seep through, making the wound throb. “They got what they wanted.”

I nodded and sighed. “Yes. I just hope we won’t encounter them on the way back.”

Yewsy looked over my shoulder and I turned to see Talew and RoseIII returning.

“Did it awaken on its own?” I asked.

“No. I had to work a revival,” RoseIII said.

I nodded and we moved west. “Good. But let’s put some distance between us and the river, just in case.”

IF LORE ABOUT Brinc history was true, the land inhabited by the Brinc clan had deteriorated rapidly during the past century. Sorrow filled my heart when I spied the lanes filled with dirty, downtrodden Lutis who had been enslaved to provide Brinc with the metal ores required to construct their machines. Lutis were short, stocky earth sprites with dark heavy beards and wide, square feet shod in black boots. They had a very proud kingdom in the village of Earste in the Hites, so obviously they had been bound by very strong magic to be enslaved here. Or by very strong threats.

For Luti or Brinc, it was a horrible way to live. Obviously, the Meab people of Brinc lived quite differently, by very different principles, than my more forest-based clan.

Opening a hole in the new magical barrier the Morri had constructed against the Brinc was an arduous endeavor. It had eaten most of our afternoon, forcing yet another night on cold ground. This time beneath the diamond-like lights of the Brinc border instead of the usual stars in the sky.

A disgruntled, sleepy group of wit had greeted the dawn sun. Now we stood just past the small opening we’d created by combining our working skill the night before and stared at the destruction of the Meab way of life.

“Tsisi never came back,” Capel said, her voice petulant.

“Janas are wind sprites. They are not dependable, you know that,” I responded absently.

I was trying to decide the best way to approach the citadel, which was located in the center of the village. There was a wide, hard-surfaced lane that began a short distance away from us, but walking along it would leave us too exposed. I wasn’t sure what Signe’s men would do to us, but after seeing my parents’ brutal murder, I was taking no chances. I consulted with Afton and he agreed that we had to be covert and find a way in without being seen. I looked right and left. Lanes stretched in both directions, with many small, seemingly deserted homes lining both sides of the lanes. Strange belts or cords strung each of the homes together then stretched off until they went out of my sight.

The surroundings were so very different from what I was familiar with. There were no plants, no Mother Trees at all, just periodic stacks of fallen wood at the end of each house-crowded lane. Tears framed my eyes as I surveyed the inhospitable landscape.

“This is not happening,” RoseIII spoke my own thoughts mournfully. “Please tell me they don’t really live this way.”

I could only shake my head, unable to formulate words of comfort.

“Is this the way the Milesians live?” Memo mused aloud.

“This is what the legends say. The Humans’ silver ships came from the sky to our Mother Earth. They used the wood to heat the metals they found here,” RoseIII replied.

“How can we hide?” I asked, moving tentatively along the lane that stretched to our left. “There are no branches, no trunks, no vines.”

Yewsy sighed loudly as she followed. “Maybe we should come back at night.”

“But the lanterns...did you see the lights they have here? It makes it like day,” Capel said. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Let’s walk close to the homes, between them,” Saffron said shyly. “Maybe no one will notice us there.”

We turned to look at Saffron, who in her golden blondeness seemed to radiate a glow in the morning sunlight. She smiled tremulously as her fammie whirled.

“Good plan, Saff. It might just work,” I said.

I strode forward and ducked down the side of the nearest cottage, Afton pressing closely to the back of my neck. The rest followed. Moments later, we carefully emerged onto the next parallel lane. We proceeded that way in silence, lane after lane, avoiding Brinc and Luti alike, edging ever closer to the huge citadel building. The white fortress loomed large above us now and I studied it, trying to decide the best way in.

I saw a doorway set into the back left flank of the building. It was hidden by a large metal bin filled with what looked like rubbish.

“Do you see that door,” I whispered to RoseIII. “There behind that metal?”

“I do,” he responded quietly. “What if it’s locked?”

“Just a chance we will have to take.”

“There are no guards. Why would they leave the citadel unguarded?”

“I don’t ken,” I said, searching the area with my eyes. “But you are right, I don’t see anyone.”

“Do you think they have magic up?” He shifted position slightly so he could peer around the wall of the cottage that hid us.

The sound penetrated from the left, along the lane leading from the side and toward the main entryway to the citadel. We all turned that way.

“Dim!” I hissed. “Everyone dim.”

A strange, metal-plated conveyance rolled toward us on steel-shod wheels. A group of Meab sat atop it, but they were as different from us as night is from day. They wore morning robes but their robes had been woven with metal so that they shimmered with every movement. The females wore their sad fammies as scarves around their necks or else configured by metal constraints into odd, asymmetrical hats. The men wore grim expressions as they pushed buttons on small square machines that they held in their hands.

“I just adore tournament day,” one female trilled to the other as she tried to right the curls in her long, blonde hair.

“I think Jasper will be as victorious this year as last,” her companion answered. “Look how dedicated he is.”

Her gaze incited mine to follow and led to one of the men whose attention was immersed in his machine.

A new group of Lutis passed by, a small group of them, heavily laden with cloth bags. They didn’t see us as we were still dimmed and one almost trod on Capel, who squeaked and moved aside. One of the men from the carriage looked up and eyed the area where we stood suspiciously. Could he see us? Hear us over the noise of the carriage and passing Lutis? After a long moment of peering, he spoke into the lighted machine that he held in his hand as the carriage ambled away toward the citadel.

“This doesn’t look good,” I muttered to Yewsy. “I think our presence here has been announced somehow.”

“Announced?” Yewsy was watching the Lutis amble away.

“Perhaps we should split,” Talew whispered, shaking his head. “Together we are too noticeable.”

I nodded. “I think you may be right.”

Thoughts gamboled inside my head, and I silently asked our foremothers for direction. My hand crept into my bag and rested on my mother’s grimoire. Peace filled me.

“This is the plan,” I said, quietly and quickly. “Yewsy and I will go into the citadel to find Avapeony and bring her out. RoseIII, you and the others head back to the hedge and wait for us on the other side.

“But—” Memo began but I raised my hand to silence her.

“There will be too many of us. If there were more places to hide and we weren’t so exposed, it might be possible for all of us to go in. As it is, we will only draw attention to ourselves. This is the best way.”

RoseIII shook his head. “No. You need my protection.”

I nudged him gently. “We are strong wits, RoseIII. This is a matter for magic, not brawn, I am thinking. And besides, you need to survive to be leader Thorn for the men of Witta.”

“Some leader, to run from a battle,” he muttered.

I touched his arm and blessed him. “
Nos ex parte, ut semper ridere dum in amplexu tuae anam cara
.”

He sighed, nodded, and then turned to gather the other ones together to make ready to depart. I walked into the midst of them, laying hands, kisses and blessings all about. The fammies united and said their parting wishes as well.

Moments later, only Yewsy and I remained with Brennen and Afton pressing close. We looked at one another. I could see the fear in her eyes and felt compelled to reassure her. I took her hand and we turned toward the citadel.

THE TOURNAMENT WAS some sort of battle game using the small but brightly lit square machines that everyone here seemed to possess. We managed to unlock the door using an unbinding work but it opened directly into a huge hall of seated Meab, mercifully all with their backs to us. We entered silently, although Yewsy had to clasp her hand across her mouth as she lurched in alarm when she saw the number of players and watchers crowded into the huge hall. Luckily the machines made a steady hum of noise and all gathered were raptly involved. We scurried to one side, into an empty hallway, where we paused, getting our breath under control.

I felt the presence of my sister strongly here, so we ventured slowly along the empty passageway.

The citadel was a very old structure, built long before the time of Thad Briite. It hailed to a time shortly after the eternal light of Soldar brought the original people of Sheadha to Lake Feidlimed. Once it had been a beautiful shrine, well-preserved and filled with pageantry during the time of the planet shifts and alignments. I had attended them with my join when still an atrebud. Now, just a handful of centuries later, it was unkempt, the floors worn and dusty, the wall hangings in disrepair. I frowned in grief noting that the furniture, all made from forest gifts bestowed from fallen Mother Trees, had disappeared. No doubt helping fuel the ovens where the metal was crafted.

A sound along the corridor caused us to freeze in place. Dimming would be of little use in these odd, brightly lit passageways. Dimming worked best when shadow and plants were involved and there was neither here. I jerked Yewsy toward a door just as a trio of clanking metal-clad Meab turned into our hallway, immersed in a conversation. I received the sense that they were searching for intruders—us. Reaching behind, I oh-socarefully, sprung the latch and leaned against the door. We moved backward, silently into the room. I pressed the door into a tiny slit and watched the Brinc men and women move past. As soon as they were out of earshot, I pressed the door closed and took a deep breath.

“Cleome?” Yewsy said, her voice wavering.

I lifted my eyes and they fetched up on the face from one of my visions. There, in flesh and blood, reclining on a bed, was the gaunt face and the sunken, gleaming blue eyes of the woman Avapeony had been talking to when last I envisioned her. The lavish bed rested against the far wall. To our left was a long, heavy table, which bore two large glass squares with bright colors on them. They bore images of the deep forest of our Witta lands. There were no window openings in the room but the flat boxes were realistic enough to make one think they were looking out onto our lands. I would have loved to study them but time was not our ally.

The rest of the room was littered with odd metal contraptions and many overstuffed linen cushions. Two chairs, one in a corner and one at the table were the only other furniture pieces. No wall hangings warmed the room and it had a sterile air and smelled metallic.