Nirrin (Forestfolk, Book 3)

Chapter 13

In the morning, I found Fen stoking a campfire. He gave me a tight smile when he saw me. “I trust you slept well?”

“It’s nice not to wake up groggy for a change.” I gave him a teasing smile that faltered when he didn’t return it. “Is something wrong?”

A guilty look flashed across his face, before he shook his head. “Everything’s fine.”

I sat on the nearby wood pile. “Then why doesn’t it feel fine?”

His eyes darted nervously around, until they landed on Minocken stalking past. (Did that guy ever walk normally?) The bewhiskered man glanced in our direction, and then I got it.

“What did Minocken say to you?” I asked Fen.

He couldn’t meet my eyes, and instead added a piece of wood to the fire.

“Fen.”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “I can’t—I mean, I’m not supposed to—” He frowned at his verbal fumbling.

I touched his arm. “Fen, it’s okay. You can talk to me.”

“That’s the thing, I can’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

He gazed at me then, and the guarded look in his eyes seemed to melt a little.

“I’m sorry. I like you. A lot,” he added in a whisper.

My stomach flipped giddily.

“But I’m not supposed to be friendly with you anymore.” He looked away.

“What?” That giddy feeling evaporated. “Why not?”

“I have to be loyal to my family,” he said as he stood. “I’m sorry.” His brown eyes landed briefly on me, and I could see traces of regret before he turned away.

A commotion on the other side of Camp saved me from having to figure out what I was supposed to do next.

“Niralessa’s back!” Resh exclaimed, as he zipped past me on all fours.

Finally. Maybe now I could get some answers.

I waited outside the clump of onlookers as they crowded around Niralessa and Corin, who each held one hand of a child who seemed to have a pair of twitching antennae sprouting from the brown hair on her head. She couldn’t have been more than eight years old.

The Camp inhabitants practically mobbed the girl in their efforts to welcome her, and I found myself strangely envious of a little girl, who probably got treated like an outcast on a regular basis. When I’d arrived, all I got were furtive whispers and dirty looks.

I waited some more.

I had no idea these people were such a chatty bunch. Just not with me, I guess.

Niralessa stood by, answering questions, her shoulders occasionally drooping with weariness before she made a conscious effort to straighten them again. Her people didn’t seem to notice, but Corin did. He slipped away and quickly returned with a bowl of water. She shook her head. He pressed the bowl into her hands and whispered something into her ear, which made her smile. She kissed him tenderly and drank the water.

It was such a small exchange, but it spoke volumes. Love, trust, companionship, it was all there.

The crowd finally dissipated enough for Niralessa to usher the girl forward. A yammering Kam practically latched onto the girl, obviously excited about the prospect of not being the only one with pointy things growing out of his head.

I took that opportunity to approach. “Niralessa, can I talk to you?”

She turned her tired eyes to me. “I suppose it’s overdue.” For supposedly being my mother, she sure didn’t seem all that eager to talk to me. “Let’s take a walk after we get Kibi settled.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but she turned away without waiting for my response.

***

Sometime later, I found myself following Niralessa along a small path through the woods. I still couldn’t get over how green her skin was.

“I’m sorry it’s taken this long to speak with you,” she began. “I imagine you must have questions.”

Did I ever. I blurted the biggest question on my mind. “Are you really my mother?”

“Yes.”

“And Corin is my father?”

“Yes.”

“But how? I mean, I know how—I’m no stranger to men—but, you know, what happened to me? Why am I not one of you?” An even more important question eclipsed everything else, and my voice grew quiet. Like if I asked it too loudly, I would scare away the answer. “Why did you get rid of me?”

Niralessa stopped walking and faced me. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

This was not an answer for me, and I spoke with an icy edge. “Not raising your own child is the hardest thing you’ve ever done?”

Her lips, green like the rest of her, thinned. “No. Giving away my own flesh and blood. It nearly killed me.”

I stared at her guarded face, looked into her hard brown eyes for some hint of affection. “You seem to be doing fine to me.”

“You know nothing.” Her eyes flickered with emotion before she turned away from me and resumed our walk through the woods.

“Then tell me something!” I couldn’t stop the resentment from increasing my volume. “Why did you throw me away?”

She whirled around, brown eyes flashing. “I did not throw you away! I wanted a better life for you!”

My chin jutted forward. “You know what’s worse than growing up without a mother? Feeling like a cast-off that other people have to put up with. Spending your life wondering why you weren’t good enough for your parents to keep.”

She gave me a scornful huff. “Words of a spoiled, privileged child. You want to know what worse is? How about worrying whether there’s enough food? Or being chased away with spears? Or tossed into the river to drown because you look strange?”

I didn’t really hear everything she said, because I was still stuck on one word. “You think I’m spoiled?”

“Nirrin—” She reached out to grip my shoulders to make her point.

I slipped out of her grasp. “Oh, no you don’t! You’re not escaping this discussion again just because I’m more than you can handle. If I sleep, it’s going to be because I’m sleepy.” My chest heaved with the ragged breaths I was taking. This conversation wasn’t anything like I had imagined. She was supposed to apologize and wrap me in her arms, telling me how wrong she was to have left me behind.

Niralessa let her arms drop to her sides. “Nirrin, you don’t understand.” Her voice seemed to have lost its fight. “You had a chance to live a normal life, away from worry and persecution. So I gave it to you.”

“So dumping me with strangers was your gift to me.”

She ignored my sarcasm. “Yes.”

The resentment I carried was a tight, furious ball in my chest. It refused to loosen, and prevented me from seeing reason. I didn’t want to hear any more. “We’re done here.”

She didn’t try to stop me. Didn’t call my name. Just watched me go.

Irrational tears pricked my eyes as I stalked back the way we came. She hadn’t wanted me then, and still didn’t want me now. What did I expect, anyway? A happy reunion? Tears of joy instead of frustration?

I was so naïve. She was right. Maybe I was a spoiled child, expecting everything to go my way.

I rushed past a surprised Corin, who stood with a small pile of kindling in his arms.

“Nirrin!”

I paused. Raw emotions crowded out all rational thought, but his voice triggered a faraway memory. An ambiguous but soothing one.

“Nirrin.” He set the twigs down, brushed off his hands, and came closer. “You seem upset.”

“Hmm, I wonder if it’s because my own mother freely admits she didn’t want me.” The bitterness in my voice sounded so ugly to my ears.

“You’re twisting her words,” he said gently. “What she wanted was to give you a better life, safe and carefree. We both did.”

“So that’s why you didn’t stop her.”

“Believe me, it was no easy decision. We went back and forth for weeks. And afterward . . . we were so depressed. Your mother wouldn’t leave our tent for days.” He laid a hand on my arm. “You were our child. We loved you.”

My throat tightened. How long had I waited to hear those words? And now . . . they were past tense. “I’m sorry, I can’t—” I shook my head, unable to finish. I withdrew my arm from his grasp and scurried away.

He meant well, I knew this. But—I swatted a low branch out of my way in agitation. I wanted them to want me. To apologize or express regret for abandoning me. Something.

I found the stream Fen had mentioned earlier and sat on a nearby rock. My limbs felt numb and heavy, like they were tired of carrying the weight of my sadness. I didn’t know what I was doing here anymore.

Nirrin? The tentative voice of Tessia nudged into my mind.

I was too gloomy to answer.

You seem so sad.

Sad. What an understatement.

A sob escaped my throat. I pressed my lips together to hold them back, but another one escaped anyway. Then another.

I slid off the rock and slumped onto the dirt below, pressing my hands against eyes that wouldn’t stop leaking. All my life I’d wanted answers, and now I wished I’d never found out. I was better off being the lost daughter of imaginary heroes.

My own mother refused to acknowledge my feelings. Didn’t care that I might have wanted to stay with her. That I might have grown up with a hole in my heart, where my parents were supposed to be.

I’m sorry.

“None of it’s your fault.” I sniffled.

I wiped my nose on my dress, and then stared at the shiny streak in horror. Every day I nagged the kids not to use their clothing like rags, and now look at me. A big, sopping mess.

Tessia emerged from wherever she’d been hiding and scooted next to me in the dirt. She leaned into me, her shoulder against mine, and I recognized it as the hug she meant it to be. I drew comfort from her quiet presence.

“Did you follow me here?” I wondered aloud.

Sort of. You were so upset, your thoughts kind of hit me when you went by. I wanted to make sure you were okay.

Since I couldn’t touch her bare skin, I gave her a soft push with my shoulder. “Thanks.”

The stream gurgling past soothed my nerves a little.

After a moment, Tessia’s tentative voice started up again. Niralessa isn’t a bad person. She does what she thinks is best for her people.

Obviously, I wasn’t one of her people. My head hung a little at the thought. Maybe I should figure out a way to get home. My real home.

I wish you wouldn’t go.

I looked at her then.

Her plaintive gray eyes beseeched me.

“You don’t need me,” I said, trying to convey how unwanted I was here. Not even Fen wanted to talk to me anymore.

Fen likes talking to you, but was told not to.

“But why? Am I dangerous or something?”

Tessia’s eyes searched mine, as if on the precipice of telling me something important. I watched as conflicting emotions played across her young face. I imagined loyalty warring with her desire to tell me whatever it was.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Tessia, what do you know?”

I’m not supposed to know anything. Niralessa has been avoiding me.

I gave her a pointed look. “But you know something.”

She dropped her eyes to her shoes, shoulders drooping slightly.

I opened my mouth, hoping to say something brilliantly convincing, when Tessia’s spine straightened. She swiveled her ridged head back in the direction of Camp.

Something isn’t right.

I perked my ears to listen, but only heard the water and chirping birds. “What is it?”

Unfamiliar thoughts. Angry. Angry strangers.

“Angry strangers?” I leapt off the rock and lowered my voice. “Like attackers? Are you sure? I don’t hear anything.”

Sneaking toward Camp. Looking for someone. Violent.

The thoughts she projected toward me were disjointed, but I understood enough.

She was talking about a sneak attack.