Page 5

Kala

After two more successful turns of hunting, Sorin and I head for the Tavikhi village.

We still have much more to do in order to make sure our food stores are supplied with enough to get us through the cold season, but it is important for Sorin to enjoy being a kit.

While I am away, Ortak is responsible for the safety of our people.

It is a pleasant day with the sun shining brightly. It peeks through the leaves making spots appear on the ground. The trees are fully in bloom so the trek down the hillside is sufficiently shaded and protected from most of the heat.

“Perhaps Healer Sage will be feeling well enough to let us meet her kit.” Sorin’s hope is evident in his quickened pace, despite my warning she may still be too tired for visitors. His stubborn need to see them both is wearisome at times.

“We have already spoken of this.” I have let some of my kit’s behaviors go undisciplined since he nearly died and have received many words of caution from a few of the elders. “You will allow Healer Sage to rest. Is this understood?”

Sorin flinches at the harshness in my tone. It has been many moon cycles since I have been this firm and there is a small amount of guilt for causing his reaction, but I do not soften my hard gaze. He must not forget how to listen and follow instructions.

“Yes, Gogo.” His voice is small and he hangs his head in defeat.

We continue descending the hillside path until there is a break within the walls that forms a narrow corridor.

I pause at the opening and breathe in deeply to scent for any danger in the air.

The only things I smell are the blooms of the nenuphar bush, a hint of animal droppings, and the bari that makes up the field separating the hills from the forest where the Tavikhi reside.

Confident in the safety of continuing, I lead Sorin out from the protection of the trees and into the open field with bari nearly as tall as him.

Only his head is visible over the top of it and he follows close to me as I clear the way for him to move unheeded.

Above our heads, two mellenje fly together in loops and patterns.

They dodge each other, only to come together briefly, before separating again.

They call out to one another as they pass, the ends of their wings whispering at the slightest touch between them.

Sorin usually helps the trip to the Tavikhi village go faster with his endless talking, but he is quiet behind me.

Without his constant conversation, the silence is uncomfortable.

I know I am the one who caused it with my reprimand, but I am not skilled enough with words to fill it, so silent we will remain.

Finally, we reach the other end of the field and step into the shade of the forest again.

Another mellenje calls out, only this sound is slightly different.

Most would not notice, but since I am familiar with how the Tavikhi communicate to each other without words, I reply with my best attempt at a dhembe growl.

Like the mellenje call, something about it is just off enough to make it recognizable.

There’s a rustling in the trees above, and out of nowhere, a familiar Tavikhi scout drops to the ground with a solid thud. In his hand is one of Benham’s well-crafted blades. I incline my head, but keep my war-axe sheathed at my back.

“Greetings, Katem.”

“Greetings, Kala and Sorin.”

“We come in peace and friendship.” I slam my fist over one of my hearts in the Tavikhi sign of respect. Sorin mimics the gesture.

Katem does so, as well. “We welcome you in the same.”

Sorin and I leave him to return to his hiding place within the trees and weave along the path.

The echo of several mellenje lead our way, until we reach the clearing that opens to the village.

Two guards are posted at the entrance. They nod in greeting.

Although Sorin and I have visited the Tavikhi many times over the last seven or eight moon cycles, I can still feel the stare of the warriors along my back.

Considering how long our people warred with theirs, I do not take offense at their caution.

I have done the same on the few occasions any of the Tavikhi have stepped into my village.

It is not that they are not welcome, but we have nothing to offer visitors, so they are infrequent.

My people are barely getting by as it is.

This place is far different than where Sorin and I live.

Here, it is teeming with life. Tavikhi and humans alike move around the village with laughter and loud conversations.

In the distance, the sounds of the warriors in the training arena reach me.

Wooden staffs strike against each other, along with capped swords I’ve witnessed as the males—and a handful of females—spar.

“Sorin, you are here.” Talek’s grin is wide as he runs toward us, his small tail thrashing behind him and a sparring stick in hand.

My kit thrums with excitement, and his sour mood dissolves with the arrival of his young friend. The Tavikhi pounds his fist on his chest and Sorin does the same.

“Greetings, Talek.” He glances around. “Where are the others?”

“They are sparring, but when word arrived that you were here, I came to greet you and take you to them. I have told Carter about your axe throwing, and he is anxious for you to show him as well.”

Sorin glances up at me in question. I squeeze his shoulder both in permission and apology.

“Go. Enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you, Gogo.”

The two kits run off in the direction of the the rise that descends into the training arena without a backward glance. I head to the healer’s tent to speak with Kyler, but do not make it two steps when my name is called out. I turn and find Zander approaching.

The shefir of the Tavikhi tribe halts in front of me and each of us fist our chests.

“Greetings, Shefir.”

“To you as well. What brings you to our village this turn?”

“Sorin has been anxious to spend time with the other kits. We have had three successful turns in a row of hunting, so I thought we would take a break and resume stocking our food stores on the next turn.”

“Benham spoke of you joining him and the kits. He said you returned to your village with several good kills, including ones taken down by Sorin. Both your and his skills are growing well.” Zander claps my shoulder with a grin. The words mean much coming from him.

“We continue to learn with each attempt. Soon, perhaps my kit and I will be as good of hunters as the Tavikhi.” I cannot perform the smiling the humans and Tavikhi do, but I hope he can hear the humor in my statement.

He must, because he expels a laugh. “Perhaps. Come, though, and have a drink with the elders and me. We are still celebrating the birth of Sage and Jodah’s kit. It is a joyous occasion.”

Together, we walk through the village, weaving between the growing number of tents, until we reach the area where the elders live, their dwellings surrounding their own fire. They sit on newly constructed benches that circle the unlit pit.

“Greetings, Shefir. Kala,” several call out at our arrival.

I incline my head and wait until Zander gestures to a place for me to sit before I lower myself down.

Once he is seated as well, one of the elders passes me the vessel containing the spirit they craft.

Behind the burning sensation that travels down to my stomach to settle into a nice warm sensation, there is a hint of fruit.

I savor it for a moment longer before returning the vessel so it can be passed to the next person.

“Benham and you spoke briefly regarding the new human arrivals,” Zander doesn’t phrase it as a question, but I answer anyway.

“Yes. I watched its descent. All went well, then?”

“Aye. Remi, Zydon, Abby, and Rojtar were among the mated pairs to greet them. The rest were a mix of mated and unmated warriors who assisted them with unloading the ship of its supplies and placing them in storage.” Zander is given the special brew and takes a long drink.

He finishes with a sound of satisfaction.

“With the addition of the newest group, their numbers are now well over several hundred. Each one as equally shocked as every group prior to find what awaited them here.”

It has been explained often how the humans arrive expecting their own home and land, but instead they receive a tent within an unroofed enclosure that offers little protection.

“From what I have learned from Healer Sage and Zara their planet’s leaders are less than truthful with them about most things.” My people might know almost nothing but killing, but we do not tell falsehoods.

“It is a shameful thing their leaders do, giving them hope for one thing, only for it to not be true,” one of the elders points out.

Murmured agreements travel around the circle where we all sit. Yet again, I am given the vessel of brew and take a second drink before passing it along.

“London has shared many things with me about her former planet. For some of the humans, coming to Tavikh is an improvement over their previous life, regardless of the conditions in which they now live. The place she came from did not even give its citizens proper food.” Zander’s disgust is clear in the way his lip curls.

I do not blame him for the anger on behalf of his keeshla . London is a kind and generous shefira who has welcomed us into her tribe.“Your goddess has looked upon your tribe with favor.”

The shefir gazes in the direction where his and London’s dwelling lies and slowly nods.

“Yes, Deeka has blessed us with great fortune by bringing the humans here, but especially my keeshla . In fact, one of the new females accepted our invitation to leave the settlement and join our tribe. The unmated warriors are hopeful that perhaps she might be a mate to one of them.”

This news surprises me. Not that the warriors want her to be one of their mates, but that a female would come here alone. To my knowledge, there are no longer any unmated females residing with the Tavikhi. It is now only mated pairs and families.

“I wish good favor upon one of your males then, that perhaps she is his keeshla .”

“Whatever path Deeka has laid out for us is where we will be led.”

The elders nod in agreement and continue passing around the brew.