Raj, Samel, and Helgid walked with their heads bowed, exiting a row of dirty, mud brick houses and merging onto the main pathway. All around them, men, women, and children traveled the smaller alleys, converging into a single procession. The men looked at each other with sullen, commiserating expressions. The women walked with their heads down, herding their children, or keeping the younger ones quiet. Their slow trudge reminded Raj of the flow of the river toward which they headed—a single mass, pouring steadily in the direction of the bridge.
Filing onto the main path, Raj, Helgid, and Samel fell into a row with several others, slowing their pace to accommodate new people. A boy a year or two younger than Samel tugged on his mother's arm, resisting the flow of the crowd. A few of the elderly colonists coughed into their shawls, not used to the exertion, or a journey that took them so far from their homes. All were expected to come, unless they were gravely ill.
Samel walked quietly, mirroring the expressions of those around him. Every once in a while, he snuck a glance at Raj. During the last procession, Samel had whispered several questions, earning disapproving looks from those around them.
Today, he behaved as expected.
Samel was learning.
Deep in the distance, the first of the colonists in line reached the ten-foot-wide wooden bridge, making room for one another as they shuffled into rows, eventually spilling off the other side and reforming. Raj looked for Bailey and his friends in the line, but he didn't see any of them in the dense crowd.
With no sight of them since yesterday, he allowed a hope to grow: perhaps they'd heeded the Watcher's warning, and would leave him and Samel alone.
The procession continued past the rows of Green Crops on the other side of the bridge, and curved, headed toward the far end of the western rock formation in a slow, deliberate procession.
Raj's hand moved to his right pocket, where he kept the strange metal gift. His thoughts drifted to Adriana.
He looked around again, but he didn't see anyone who fit the brief memory he had of her. He had thought of her often last night before sleep, as he'd rolled the strange gift in his hand in the dark. The metal keepsake was as unexpected as their chance encounter. Try as he might, he couldn't solidify Adriana's appearance in his mind, having only seen her the day her grandmother died.
Hopefully, he'd recognize her at the ceremony.
Soon Raj, Helgid, and Samel passed over the wooden bridge, their boots clopping on the wooden planks. Raj looked over the four-foot-high railing to the river. Every so often, on a normal day, one of the younger children disobeyed a parent's warning, climbed, and lost their balance. Most of the time, those children were fished from the slow-moving river before they drowned, but every once in a while, a tragic accident occurred. Thankfully, Samel knew better than to horse around.
Crossing the bridge, they passed the Green Crops on either side, reaching a patch of open desert that ran between the last parts of the cliffs.
Not for the first time, Raj pictured his father alone in the desert, wandering farther and farther away from the colony. His father was never far from his mind, every time he attended a ceremony. And neither was his mother.
Raj looked up at the highest western cliffs, toward which the line veered. A few of The Watchers stood, silhouetted by the sun, keeping track of the people below, or looking out for storms. Raj didn't need to look to know that some of The Watchers stood on the eastern cliffs, as well.
The crowd rounded the western cliffs, following the path to the other side.
The Watchers disappeared from sight.
An open landscape spanned as far as the eye could see. The path on which they traveled ran parallel to the cliffs, but beyond, several hundred feet were dotted with rocks and stones, spanning the width of the other side of the rock formation and eventually seguing to desert.
The graveyard.
Staring at the graveyard, Raj saw sections.
The freshest graves—those that hadn't been claimed by the desert—were at the far end of the graveyard, mostly unburied by the shifting sands. The slightly older graves were in the middle, reduced to tips of stones. And the oldest were mostly invisible.
About halfway back, in the middle section, was the empty grave that marked Raj's father, along with the full one that marked his mother. He scanned the hundreds of stones, as if he might find them, but he was too far back to see.
It had been too long since he visited them on his own.
He made a mental note to visit them soon.
The line kept going until the colonists reached the western edge of the graveyard, where the freshest graves were located.
A group of two-dozen men stood at the threshold of three newly dug holes. Next to them, three bodies lay wrapped in sheets, ready for burial. As the line reached the waiting men, the bereaved relatives broke from the crowd and lined up—the men in front, the women behind, so their crying could not be heard over the speech to come. Next, the other colonists filed into spectating rows, where they could watch the ceremony.
Raj searched for Adriana among the bereaved. He noticed a few young women that fit her description, but it was impossible to tell for certain, because most wore shawls over their faces.
Raj, Helgid, and Samel merged into one of the long rows of colonists facing the graves, settling about ten rows from the front. When the last sounds of crunching boots stopped, the desert quieted and they waited for the ceremony to begin.
All eyes turned to a man who stepped a few paces in front of the two dozen important men. Raj and Samel shifted, looking through the rows of the crowd, so that they could see the colony leader.
Gideon's stern expression did not change as he scanned the crowd. Looking over his shoulder, he nodded at his Heads of Colony, and his Watchers, before speaking. His austere voice carried over the crowd.
"The heavens have claimed the lives of three more of us, but they are not lost," Gideon began, loud enough to be heard by all in the desert quiet. "The winds that took them from our colony will carry them upward and on to better things, to a place where food is plentiful, to a place where the elements cannot harm them. The whispered words of our ancestors will comfort them as they move from this life to the next."
A few heads bowed. A few women shed quiet tears.
"The heavens will guard these stones, so that our deceased are never alone. They will not be forgotten." A subtle breeze blew, lifting the hair of the bereaved women, some of whom had removed their shawls to blot their faces. "We will remember them by the lives they led, and the people they touched."
The crowd alternated its focus between Gideon and the wrapped, lifeless bodies. Raj noticed a few children in the front row shifting from foot to foot. He looked over at Samel, thinking he might have to scold him, but Samel stood quietly and rigidly. Sensing Raj's eyes, he looked over and nodded.
Another of The Heads of Colony, Wyatt, stepped forward from the important men. Normally, the tall, skinny man reserved his voice for passing out rations or giving directions to The Watchers who carried out Gideon's projects. Today, it served another purpose. Tilting his head up to the sky as if he sought wisdom from the sun or the twin moons, Wyatt spoke.
"The heavens have a purpose for taking our loved ones, greater than any of our individual comprehension. We honor our loved ones, as painful as their passing might be, by carrying on their hard work. We persevere in their memory." Wyatt beckoned to the three bodies. "We will remember them by carrying on in their name. That is their legacy."
Listening to Wyatt, Raj felt a pit in his stomach. Raj barely recalled his mother's funeral, but he recalled his father's with clarity. The crowd had proceeded in the same march. The men had watched solemnly. Children had clung to their parents, listening. But those speeches sounded different, without a body to bury.
Dad had only an empty grave to mark his remains, and few relatives to remember him. He had no whispers from ancestors to take him to the sky. His body had long rotted in the desert, food for the few animals clinging to life out there. Or maybe he was buried, like the oldest graves.
Neena had looked for him, but she hadn't found him.
Or, at least, that was what she told Raj, although sometimes he suspected she was holding something back.
He listened as Wyatt concluded his speech and stepped back into line, and The Watchers moved forward to start the burials. Scanning the three wrapped sheets, Raj wondered which was the woman he'd helped pull from that collapsed house.
He didn't have to guess for long.
One of the bereaved—a girl—uncovered her face, letting out a long wail as she moved past the others, kneeling at the first grave's edge. Raj recognized her long, dark hair and her mannerisms. She brushed away tears with slender hands as she spoke quiet words and The Watchers lowered the first body, before she moved back to embrace her relatives, all of whom listened intently for the rest of the ceremony.
That must be Adriana, he thought.