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  Manhera looked up at me, tenderly smiled, and then said to Baskrod, “I haven’t told him. I don’t think she told him either. Under the circumstances, this may be hard for him to hear.”

  Chapter 19

  Trees - Brina

  My father and I climbed and glided back to our home. Each tree I climbed and each path I glided, I found myself thinking that this could be the last time that I climbed this tree or glided this path through the air. Strange, how I tortured myself like that, but it was my way of focusing on each sight so I could preserve it forever in my mind in case I never passed that way again. When we reached the platform, my mother heard us land, and she and my brother and sisters all came out on the terrace and gathered around us to hear the news. Bursting into tears, I ran in the house, threw myself into my hammock, and covered my face with my silk sheet.

  I could hear them talking outside. Papa explained in as few words as possible what had happened. He said the cat rider had questioned my interpretations, but that I had been truthful at all times. It felt good to hear that my Papa believed me. My family asked him lots of questions about the cat rider, what he looked like, how he moved and talked and such, but Papa brushed them all aside. He said none of that was important, what was important was that I had been chosen to travel with the colonists.

  “No!” my mother cried out.

  “How long will Brina be gone?” Glorna asked.

  “Where is Brina going?” little Ceila blurted out, sounding as if she was about to cry.

  Papa explained, “Brina will be leaving us to go on an adventure. We must all wish her well, surround her with our love, and help her to get ready. But right now, it is best if you all let her rest quietly. I know you all have work or studying to do, so please go back to what you were doing, while Mama and I talk with Brina. We will have time to talk about it more, later.”

  After a few protests, they hurried off in various directions and I heard my Mama's footsteps coming into the room to me.

  “Brina,” Mama said in a soft voice. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I peeked out from under my covering. “Not now, Mama. Let Papa explain it all to you. I don’t want to talk just yet.”

  “I know this is very hard, but I know you will not want to miss out on Klala’s life’s remembrance, later tonight.’

  It hit me like a fallen branch on the back. I was so concerned about myself, I had forgotten how Klala’s family must be suffering. I could not miss her burial. I would never forgive myself.

  “We will all be there with you Brina. We all cared deeply for Klala,” my mother assured me. “I will get you some mesmeringa root tea, so perhaps you can get some more rest before it is time.”

  “Thank you Mama, I will try,” I said, but I knew sleep would not come even with mesmeringa root tea.

  When she brought the tea, she gently swept her hand across my forehead. “Don’t worry about preparations for your journey,” she said. The rest of us will take care of as many of the details as we can for you. You have been under a great strain, so you need to rest.”

  “Yes Mama.”

  After she left the room, I finished the tea and fell into a deep sleep out of sheer exhaustion. I must have slept through the entire day, because when I finally stirred, it was dark and I could hear my family members up and about. I listened, then crept out of my hammock to climb the winding staircase to our platform near the sky. Papa was already there, standing alone, staring at the sky. I watched him silently for a moment.

  “Papa?” I finally whispered.

  “Brina,” he said and buried me in a deep, strong hug, wrapping his warm glides around me. I felt like a silkworm hidden safely in a cocoon. I did not want to ever have to emerge back into the world.

  After a few minutes, my Papa started to talk, “Brina, I know you were deeply hurt by what happened in council tonight. You are so sweet and sensitive, and I know you feel crushed by even a hint that you may have committed some wrong.”

  “It’s terrible Papa. I didn’t do anything wrong!” I blurted out.

  “Brina, I want you to try to remember yesterday when we were up here. Before…before Klala’s terrible accident.”

  “It was just that: a terrible, terrible accident!” I said.

  “I know that,” Papa agreed. “But try to take yourself back to yesterday when we were up here, after you found the new star.”

  “That seems like a million mesmeringa nut harvests ago.”

  “Yes, it does. Brina, look at the sky. What do you see?”

  “Lots of stars,” I answered stubbornly.

  “And the new star?”

  “Is still there,” I said, suddenly noticing how brightly it seemed to be shining, almost pulsating.

  “Brina, when you found it you were worried, but also excited about your mission. Besides leaving your family, what was the fear you mentioned to me that night, do you remember?

  “That Baskrod had not come…” I responded, looking down at the platform.

  “Yes, and that you would have to face the ground alone.” Papa reminded me.

  I was silent for a minute. I knew where Papa was going with this. “So, you’re thinking that now I will not have to face the ground alone, but I will be travelling with other people.”

  “Yes, Brina. That will be so much safer.”

  “But in the wrong direction!”

  “Baskrod said you would need to travel to the great capital of the Tzoladian Empire.”

  “Yes, but the council is sending me west to another river and we don’t even know where it goes!” A breeze rippled the leaves as I spoke.

  “Brina, Baskrod has given you a clearer glimpse of your future than most people ever receive.”

  “But it’s not clear at all, Papa!”

  “You are not the only person with a destiny, Brina. Each person here in Kalpok has a destiny to fulfill. What is the difference with yours?”

  “This was not my idea Papa. I did not make this up! Baskrod taught me that I have a special purpose. That is why he taught me those languages.”

  “Yes, Brina, but how is your purpose different from anyone else’s?”

  “Everyone has a different purpose.”

  “Go on, Brina…”

  “Okay, so I guess everyone has a special purpose.”

  “So what makes yours different from the other people here in Kalpok?”

  Suddenly the mist in my mind cleared, and I knew the answer: “Mine is different only because Baskrod revealed to me portions of my future before it has come to pass. He revealed to me some of my future.”

  “And the rest of us must walk in faith through the unknown.’

  “So why am I so afraid and upset?” I asked.

  “What did you think what Baskrod told you meant?”

  “I…I thought it meant that I had something very important to do.”

  “And I believe you do. But more important than the rest of us?”

  “I guess that depends on what you call important,” I said, lowering my voice.

  “Brina, please don’t misunderstand. Like you, I believe the fact that Baskrod came to you and gave you specific instructions about your future means that your destiny will probably impact a lot of people.”

  Relieved, I started to feel a little less foolish. “Really, Papa?” I looked up at him.

  “Yes, Brina. But what are you so angry about tonight?”

  “The way the council treated me. As if I was a liar. As if I had done something terrible…as if I was being banished.” The words came falling out of my mouth.

  “I can see why you felt that way, and perhaps the council does think poorly of you, perhaps they are punishing you.”

  “It sure felt like it.”

  “But do you remember what I told you yesterday about the council?”

  “That…that they could not harm me?”

  “I believe I told you that the council cannot stop your destiny, Brina. They cannot hold you down when you were born to
soar.”

  How was it that my Papa could always make me feel like I could rise up into the stars, even when the weight of the world was crushing me to the ground?

  “Thank you Papa. I love you so much,” I said and kissed him on the cheek.

  It was then that I heard Mama calling, “Brina, Rowan, are you up there? I’m sorry but it’s time for us to go to Klala’s farewell ceremony.”

  With her words, reality hit me, spiraling me back to the ground, but somehow I knew Papa’s words would help my spirit to glide again in time.

  Chapter 20

  Mud - Amanki

  Before I could recover my thoughts, Baskrod spoke again: “Amanki, you have done well. I need you to please tell me all that happened after we escaped to the boat. I do not remember.”

  “I will gladly tell you the whole story,” I replied. “But first, please tell me what you meant when you said that I met my mother.”

  “I suppose it is not right to leave you treading after dropping you into that well of knowledge,” he said thoughtfully, stroking his beard.

  “You have me so confused.”

  “There are many things that you need to know before we reach the city.”

  “So we are going to the great city of Tzoladia?” I asked. I had never been to a real city. Maybe if I got as far away from Arvuk as possible, I could start a new life.

  “Yes, but first we will stop in Waduk, the Webby capital, for supplies, information, and better transportation,” Baskrod said with a twinkle in his eye. “You will find Waduk to be a fascinating city, although we cannot remain there for long. It is important for me to get you to Tzoladia as soon as possible.”

  I gulped. I don’t know why, it just seemed like something I could not even fathom, perhaps it was the way he said it, or maybe it was because of the dreams. “Why?” I asked.

  “The new star has appeared, so it is time,” Baskrod replied in such an authoritative tone, despite his weakened physical state, that I did not think to question him.

  Instead I flipped the topic back to the one he seemed to be avoiding. “You were going to tell me what you meant about my mother. My mother was murdered, and someday I will kill the man that did it, or rather the monster who did it. He does not deserve to be called a man.”

  “Amanki, I am very sorry for the horrible loss of Anada. She was a good mother to you. The people who killed her are unspeakably evil. They care only for their own rewards and think nothing of the pain they cause. Yet, there is a still deeper evil behind them. May Adon save us from that evil,” Baskrod said, his voice growing weary. “As for your mother, there is no easy way to tell you this. I would have told you earlier, but for the need for secrecy for your safety. The woman you call your mother is not your birth mother, but she never knew that, and she loved you as much as her own birth children.”

  “What are you talking about? That can’t be true. How could it be?” The words rolled from my lips as I glanced from Baskrod to Manhera. Then suddenly I asked, “And how did Manhera know if I couldn’t know?”

  “I was the first person that ever held you,” Manhera said in her gentle tone. Warmth rushed over me, since of course, I still wanted her to hold me. But then the curiosity returned.

  “If she is not my mother, then who is? And how could she not know?” My questions kept overflowing.

  “Amanki, the wind is shifting,” Manhera said suddenly.

  I had almost forgotten that we were sailing. I straightened the boat and turned back to Baskrod. He was leaning back with his eyes closed and seemed to be starting to fade into sleep. Manhera must have noticed that he was weakening too.

  “He needs his sleep,” she said. “I will tell you what I know while he sleeps.” Baskrod had nodded off. The conversation had drained much of his strength.

  “As you know, in our villages, only women are healers. The secrets of healing are passed down through the years. Since there is so much to learn, at a young age I was dedicated to the art of healing and initiated into the cult of herbalists by my aunt. What you may not know, unless Baskrod has told you, is about the Society of the Word.” She paused and looked at me questioningly.

  “He has mentioned the People of the Word. I know they worship Adon. But I don’t know about the Society,” I said, feeling slightly cheated, but more curious than anything.

  “Baskrod is one of the Society of the Word. Among them are traveling men of wisdom, like Baskrod, who spend their lives learning. In order to become a man of wisdom, Baskrod had to study for twenty years under other men of wisdom. Their secrets are never written down by scribes. They must pass rigorous oral tests in order to enter into the society. Once fully initiated, most of them travel to share their knowledge, to help others. A few of them live alone as hermits. They all worship Adon.”

  I thought how incredible it would be to spend my life learning like the men of this society.

  “How many are there?” I asked.

  “I do not know,” she answered, shaking her head from side to side. “Baskrod is the only one I have ever met.”

  “But he spends so much time fishing. I thought he was just a really wise fisherman,” I said, feeling kind of stupid.

  She laughed, and it was a golden laugh that seemed to glitter in the sunshine. “But you were right,” she said. “He is a really, really, really wise fisherman.”

  I laughed with her for a moment, but then became serious again. “Getting back to my birth mother,” I said, my need to know getting the best of me, even though the word ‘mother’ was so hard to speak right now. When my mother died, it felt like I was being robbed of my identity. Now to be told she was not my mother left a gaping hole.

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” Manhera said. “As I was explaining, as the apprentice of a healer, I accompanied my aunt in the village birthing hut from the time I was a small girl. Women from Arvuk came to our hut since there was no midwife in your village.”

  “One day, as I was assisting my aunt, Baskrod brought a young woman who was with child to the birthing hut. Though it was not cold outside, she was bundled up in a blanket. They hurried her through to one of the birthing rocks. Her pains had begun. When the blanket fell from her shoulders it revealed her garments, which were nothing like I have ever seen before or since. The material that clung to her skin looked like spun gold. Precious gems were woven into the fabric. They sparkled even in the dim candlelight of the hut. The deep blue cylinder seal that you wear today dangled from her neck.”

  I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat, totally oblivious to the rising wind. Just then, a gust hit the sail, whirling us around. I sprang into action and ordered Manhera to man a set of oars. I rushed to take down the sail, fighting to lower it to prevent it from ripping. Incongruously, I prayed to Adon that the Berserker had not chosen this day to drink himself into a rage.

  Chapter 21

  Trees - Brina

  My whole family was lined up in their flowing white cloaks on the terrace outside our home, prepared to attend the celebration of Klala’s life. As I came down to join them, they all turned and looked up at me. Their faces reflected a mixture of feelings that ranged from nervous excitement to deep concern. Ceila had never been to a funeral before, so she did not know what to expect. By contrast, my older brother Leifen had lost a friend in an accident several years ago. I knew he understood the deep sadness permeating the occasion, even though it was also a celebration. My mother hovered about me with concern. I silently grabbed a white cloak and joined the others. I had not had time to prepare, but my offering would be from the heart.

  We glided in twos to the meeting place. It seemed strange that I had only just been here several hours ago. As we neared the hall, I heard the soft melodic sounds of harps, pipes, and lyres playing sweet lullabies like those songs my sister Glorna sometimes played to help me sleep. The notes repeated in a way that reminded me of the gentle rocking of a pod hammock. The music was not sad, but soothing. Everyone danced in pairs that glided around the room, each p
air moving in small repeated circles that in turn moved in a large circle around the room. I was glad that Barque moved quickly to my side for the dance. His hand on my back was strong and steady. To keep from getting dizzy, I just gazed into his eyes. I wanted to ask him if he had volunteered for the colony, but the words stuck in my throat. Now was not the time.

  When the dance was done, he thanked me and returned me to sit with my family on the benches around the walls. Klala’s family sat on the inner benches, which were normally reserved for the council. Klala’s body had been sewn into a giant mesmeringa pod, which now hung from the ceiling over the spot where the tree stump stood, ironically the same place the cat rider had been lowered in his net.

  A hush fell over everyone in the room in anticipation of the musicians beginning the tale of our people. Even now, the anticipation gave me a sense of purpose, awe, and hope. The song started out in quiet tones with two male singers taking turns as if they were conversing, but their voices slowly grew. Then more male voices joined in. Acrobats leapt from the eight upper windows, wearing capes that looked like they were covered in scales, and carrying brightly colored ribbons, weaving in and out of each other until reaching the floor. I think everybody pictured the original people a little differently, but for some reason, I pictured them like the flying creatures that I followed through the sky in my dreams. Next the stringed instruments joined in. Then women appeared at each of the eight windows, joined their voices with the men, and leapt into the room, their ribbons streaming behind them. Throughout this portion of the presentation, new singers with ribbons kept appearing at the windows and taking off into the room. The speed of the music continued to build, filling me with anticipation. Wind instruments joined in and all the ribbon acrobats returned to the windows and walked along the ledges that connected the windows. They jumped off the ledge and soared all at once while singing: