Chapter 20
1918 Words
While we looked for Meresh, one of the twins followed us around. He walked parallel to us, eyeing Fen from some distance away, spear in hand.
“Hey, Majon, you can talk to us, you know,” I called out to him. “Get to know us better.”
He frowned. “I’m Mykis!”
Oh. The other twin. I had thought he was avoiding us.
“I’m supposed to keep an eye on all of you,” he continued.
It was my turn to frown. “Did Meresh put you up to this?”
“Pimo says Chief Meresh is too soft. That we shouldn’t trust Aberrations.”
Pimo? Siena’s half brother? Why would he say something like that? Didn’t she save his sorry backside from the Krat pits all those years ago?
“I want to talk to him,” I said.
The boy wavered, his eyes sliding warily to Fen’s hulking form.
“Hey, Fen? Go find the kids. I’m going to have a word with this Pimo guy.”
He nodded and ambled away.
I approached Mykis. “Now can I talk to him?”
He lowered his spear. “I guess.”
I followed him through the compound until we came upon a guy near my age, standing in front of a tanning rack. He scraped at a length of hide stretched across a wooden frame with a sharp-edged rock.
“Pimo,” the boy called out to him. “This girl wants to talk to you.”
Pimo turned around. Sweat slicked his tanned chest, and his sinewy arms flexed a little as he turned. It was a shame about his face, though. A small scar ran from one eye down his cheek, his mouth was set in a grim line, and his nose reminded me of a bush pig.
His hard expression lightened when he saw me, with that grim mouth tilting into a smirk. “Well, hello.”
My first embarrassing instinct was to preen at the male attention. Then I reminded myself what I was here to do. “You’ve been spreading lies about the Gifted.”
His brow furrowed. “What lies?”
“You’re telling people not to trust them! That they’re dangerous! Your own sister is Gifted, and she risked her life saving you from that crazy Borga. How could you say such things?”
“Siena is my half sister, and I’ve changed my stance on the Gifted. They’re all right. But these Aberrations . . .” His eyes searched out Fen lumbering in the distance. “I mean, look at them. They’re not even human.”
My body went rigid. “You don’t even know him! His name is Fenrook, and he has feelings just like you. Well, maybe not like you. You obviously don’t have any sort of empathy. In fact, he’s better than you!”
Pimo’s grip on the rock tightened, and a muscle popped in his jaw.
“You going to hit me with that?” I gestured to the rock. “Club your opinion into me, like during the Plainsmen glory days? I’ve heard the stories.”
He glared at me, the intensity in those dark eyes making me believe he really might smash my face with that rock. “My father was a great man,” he snarled.
I lifted my chin to keep my feet from backing me away. “I didn’t know him, so I’ll have to take your word for it. But what makes you so great?”
His intensity wavered. I tried not to stare at the bristly facial hair that grew in patches around his chin as he pressed his lips together into a pout, which was at odds with the tough persona he was obviously trying to project.
“I'm protecting this tribe, just like my father used to. You don’t know anything,” he muttered, before dropping the rock into the dirt and stalking away.
I stared at his retreating back, then looked at Mykis, who also stood there gawking. The expression on his face was that of a boy watching his hero retreating from a fight.
“Mykis—” I began.
“Pimo’s my friend,” the boy said, tightening his grip on the spear. “I can beat Majon in a fight because Pimo taught me. I bet Pimo can beat up Chief Meresh. Then he can be chief!”
“Mykis, being a good leader doesn’t mean being able to beat everyone up. It means making decisions for the good of your people. All your people. Not just the strong ones. The strong ones need to help the weak ones. Do you understand?”
He set the butt of his spear to the ground and scratched his head. “But why? If they’re weak, how can they help the tribe to survive?”
I wasn’t sure how to teach compassion to a boy who idolized a brute, so I took a different approach. “You remember the big fellow I arrived with?”
He nodded. “Yes, the Aberration.”
I ground my teeth at the word, but went on with my point. “How strong do you think he is?”
His eyes widened at the thought.
“He’s very strong. He took that spear away from you earlier, right?”
He made a face. “That was Majon.”
“All the same, if you respect strength, shouldn’t you respect him?”
His dark eyes traveled to where Fen crouched in front of Kibi. He held the young girl’s hand, reassuring her. The sight warmed my heart, and I wanted to run over and kiss him right then.
“But he looks like . . .” Mykis struggled for words. “I mean, what is he?”
I tore my eyes away from Fen. “Mykis, what a person looks like doesn’t define them. It’s who they are inside that matters. It’s what they do. The decisions they make. The people they love.” The boy seemed to be listening, so I went on. “If you got burned in a fire and all your skin turned black and ugly, would you still be you inside?”
“I’d be dead.”
“Okay, maybe that was a bad example, but do you understand what I’m saying?”
He pulled his ear in thought. “I think so.”
I didn’t really want to spend more time with a cretin’s protégé, but I had to reach out anyway. “Want to have supper with us?”
His face tensed with uncertainty, and he looked over to where Pimo had disappeared around a corner.
“We’ll invite Majon too.” I hoped that would be an incentive rather than a deterrent.
Another moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”
***
As much as I wanted to delay sharing horrible news with Meresh, I knew what I had to do. Niralessa could arrive today with her killing crew.
I found him in a heated discussion with Pimo. The young warrior gestured wildly. Meresh had the outward appearance of calm, but the tense line of his jaw said otherwise.
“The sooner they leave, the better,” Pimo was saying.
I didn’t want to hear any more, so I stepped closer. “You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”
“You can stay,” Pimo offered. “Those other ones you came with should go.”
“That’s enough,” Meresh said with a scowl. “This is not how we treat guests.”
I crossed my arms as if to say, “Yeah, what he said.”
Pimo exhaled through his nose, considering me with hard eyes.
“They haven’t done anything to us, Pimo,” Meresh said, voice calm.
Pimo looked away from me and scratched his arm, thinking.
That he was even thinking about it gave me hope. I kept my mouth shut, in case I said the wrong thing.
“This is true,” he said grudgingly. His eyes returned to me. “But if any of you step out of line . . .” His tone no longer held the vehemence it had earlier, but the warning was still there.
A few choice retorts came to mind, but I managed to nod in acknowledgment instead.
Satisfied, Pimo gave a curt nod to Meresh and wandered away.
“Something tells me that was a big step for him,” I said quietly.
“It was,” he replied, watching him leave. “We’ve always butted heads, but he does care about the tribe.”
The tribe. Which was in danger. I briefly closed my eyes to gather the courage to tell him. No one wanted to hear that their people might be wiped out.
I took in a deep breath and opened my eyes. “There’s a very good chance that my mother might be on her way here with a group of fierce warriors. She may or may not want to, um, kill this entire tribe.”
He blinked at me. “What?”
“She’s looking for revenge. For the death of her mate.” I wrung my hands. “She’s really, really upset. She may have gone crazy.”
“Your mother?” He seemed stuck on this concept.
“Um, yeah. Long story short, I recently discovered my parents are Gifted. They led a group of outcasts.” I cleared my throat. “Very resentful outcasts.”
He stared at me, trying to digest this information. “And they want to attack us.”
“Bolden or one of his men killed my father.” My heart lurched a little. I couldn’t believe he was dead.
“I’m sorry, truly. But shouldn’t you have told me this earlier?”
I winced. “I know. I’m sorry. I guess I was more excited about reuniting Kibi with her parents. No one wants to be the bearer of bad news.”
The chief rubbed his forehead. “This is bad, indeed. Very bad. Bolden and his warriors were the best we had.” He looked at me with strained eyes. “And they didn’t survive?”
I couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. None of this was my fault, but somehow, I felt guilty anyway. “I don’t think so. I’m so sorry. What are we going to do?”
His hand shifted to rubbing his tense neck. “My father loved war. Thought it was the only way to prove strength and protect his people.” He shook his head. “There has to be another way.”
Something other than war. I thought for a moment. There had to be something.
Then it struck me. “I have an idea. But I don’t think anyone’s going to like it.”
- Writer
