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I awoke to an offering of porridge, which was a nice surprise. Behorra was already up and chomping on grass, and the warm meal set a heat in me that I could feel down to my toes. Kemen had several tools handy for cooking, but just the fact I didn’t have to stoke the fire and figure out what I was doing was nice.
As I packed up from the night, Behorra trotted over and away, over and away.
Kemen studied her. “What’s she doing?”
“You’re confusing her,” I said. “Here.”
I grabbed his wrist and led the way over to Behorra. She snorted and stamped at the ground. I held Kemen’s hand out and put some of her favourite grasses in his palm. “Come on,” I said to her.
She cautiously stepped closer, stretching out her head and neck. Her lips flapped as she tried to eat without touching Kemen. The expression on Kemen’s face – all big eyes – almost made me laugh.
Having had her treat, Behorra sniffed Kemen’s hand, then my hand on his wrist, then decided to bat at both our hands with her nose. I gave her a pat on the neck. “See, he’s not really scary,” I said to her.
“I think Behorra’s the one who’s scary,” Kemen said. “Or maybe both of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s just a horse.”
“I know. You’ve been very clear on that.”
“I don’t want you trying to eat her again.”
“I’m not going to eat her!” He cleared his throat. “So where exactly are you headed, anyways? I take it you’re not just wandering around aimlessly.”
“I said I found a sacred arrow. So I am going to check one of the sacred spots.”
“One – you know the way to a sacred spot?”
“Yes – why do you look so surprised?” I asked.
He studied Behorra. “In the Oin Zuria, being told how to find the path to sacred spots is considered a great honour.”
“Oh.” I shifted my weight. “I never thought of it like that. It was just part of my aita’s teachings.”
“I see.” He straightened up. “So, which way do we go?”
I pointed north northeast. “I’m not sure of the distance, mind you.”
“I’m sure it can’t be too far.”
I didn’t know how many days walk he thought it might be, but whatever it was, it was to low. We walked for three days, and by the third day he was visibly frustrated, though he didn’t say anything.
I felt we were making good time, for we went at an easy pace and hunted as we went. The closer we got, the more marked stones with directions there were. The carvings weren’t always the easiest to read, but spotting the stones gave me a great sense of calm and stability.
My people were gone, but at least we had left a mark on the world.
We came to the top of a hill, and in the distance it glimmered. Kemen gave a low whistle. “Yeah, okay, it’s breathtaking,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed, and started down the hill.
The lake was large, a great, shining thing stretching almost from horizon to horizon, its shore sand and smooth pebbles. Out in the middle of it was a sandy island, on which a small grove of trees grew. Cairns lined the perimeter, covered in flaking ochre. The water was blue and smooth.
I peered into the shallows, startled at how clear it was. I could see all the stones in the lakebed, and the small, dark fish darting about.
“It seems quite shallow,” I said, crouching on a rock at a curve in the shoreline. I reached down and swished my fingers through the clear water. “It’s warm, too.”
“Is it?” Kemen dipped his hand in. “You’re right, it’s quite nice. It’s been a while since I’ve come across water this warm. Actually, it’s been a while since I’ve used water for anything other than drinking and cooking, now that I think of it.”
I pinched at my clothes. “You have a point.” I eyed the island with its tree. “I mean, really it’s the trees that are sacred, not the lake itself . . .”
Kemen flashed me a grin. “I like the way you think.”
While Behorra took a long drink and splashed a little, Kemen and I dropped our gear and supplies and found spots along the shore. I wasted no time in stripping off my clothes and wading in until the water reached my chest. The warm water was soothing on my skin.
I ducked my head beneath the surface, the water making an echoing roar in my ears, and scrubbed my hands through my hair. My scalp felt so tight and mucky I immediately wanted to redo my hair.
I spent a few minutes rinsing grime and sweat off of me. It made me feel light and relaxed. I’d forgotten if some spots on my arms were freckles or dirt.
Feeling much more like a human again, I splashed out to the shallows and sat down. It was painstaking, to undo my braids and let my hair fall in wet, tangled clumps. I carefully set my bead strands on the shore to dry. They were one of the last things I had from my family, as proof of who I was.
My fingers raked through my hair as I undid the wet strands, snarls making me wince. It’d been a long time since I’d had my hair unbraided, and the hairs tickled me as the wind blew it out like a curtain.
Once the worst of the knots were out and the things stuck in it were gone and the wind had dried it almost completely, I started the task of braiding. It turned out, it was a lot harder to do it on your own head, than on someone else’s.
I heard footsteps on the rocks. “Ainara? I don’t suppose I could get your help?”
I stood up and waded onto shore, stepping carefully over to where Kemen stood. He was still dripping, and was flapping out his wet clothes to lay them on a rock in the sun. His dark hair fell around his face boyishly.
He glanced over at me. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t braid their own hair.”
“. . . Normally ama and Eider and I do it for each other,” I admitted.
“It’s my aita usually, for me. You want me to do your hair? I’ve been doing it for my younger sisters and cousins for years.”
“Sure.”
I brushed off the rocks and sat down, feet in the shallows. After a moment of hesitation, I handed Kemen my bead strands.
Kemen crouched down behind me and I tensed a little when he took my hair in his hands.
He worked quickly, his fingers gentle and deft. The clack of my bead strands as he wove them in carried with it memories. Lots of memories.
He knotted the braids off. “Done,” he said. “Does it feel okay?”
I tilted my head side to side, feeling the weight as it shifted and swung. He’d bound all the braids into some complicated fall at the back of my head, but it didn’t tug.
“Yeah,” I said, standing up. “I’ll do yours now, if you want.”
Kemen blinked, then smiled. “Sure.”
He seated himself and I knelt down behind him. There were scars, scratches from something, on the back of his shoulder.
I took a moment to trim the ends with my knife and spread his bead strands out next to me. The bits of shell and bone were coloured and ordered differently than the way we did it in my clan.
Kemen’s hair was thick and prone to curling, which made it a bit difficult to work with. It seemed to take me far longer than he had to do the braids, and he had shorter hair than I did. I couldn’t help but think, as I wove the bead strands in, that the contrast between their colour and his hair was striking.
“There you go,” I said, leaning back.
Kemen brushed a hand through his new braids and grinned at me over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
I stood up and rolled my shoulder. “No big deal. Having a bit of a break wasn’t . . . bad.”
“And now it’s back to sacred arrows and vanishing clans,” Kemen sighed. “You think it’s possible to swim out to the island?”
I gauged the distance. “. . . No.”
“– Can the horse swim it?”
“I don’t want to find out in case the answer’s no.”
“Fair enough. Well, maybe there’s a boat hidden somewhere, or a secret path to cross to the island. We ought to start looking.”
“You can start looking,” I said. “I’m putting my boots and clothes on first.” The breeze, though slight and summer warm, was enough to chill me when I was still slightly damp.
I got dressed quickly, while Kemen shrugged on his still wet first layer and began walking along the shore.
Behorra was taking advantage of the good bath water, so I left her to enjoy herself while I found a good, long stick, and used it to poke about in the shallows. Even though the bottom had sandy patches, it still seemed fairly solid. No hidden paths just below the surface yet.
“I’m not seeing anywhere to hide a boat,” Kemen said, tromping back towards me. “It’s all pretty flat and exposed. Any luck?”
“None yet,” I said. I frowned at the lake. “Is it just me, or does it seem darker over there?”
Kemen looked at the water. “It does . . . but deep water doesn’t help us.”
“Maybe, but – it’s odd it’s only darker and deep right there, isn’t?”
I waded out towards the dark patch of water, testing the ground in from of me with my stick. The water sloshed up to my knees, and then the stick met with no resistance.
I nearly lost my balance and dropped the stick. I backstepped, then frowned at the clear water. “There’s a really sudden drop here. Like. A pit.”
“A pit?” Kemen waded out to join me. “Yeah, this doesn’t look normal. It’s like someone dug a big hole. – This is a sacred place, so we’re not staring at the way to the world of demons, are we?”
“I don’t know.” I squinted at the water. “Is – what am I seeing, there, on that shelf?”
Kemen dropped to his knees to get a better look. “That doesn’t look like a plant. Or a fish. Maybe a turtle?”
“It’s not moving.”
“I’m trying to think of non-demon options.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out.”
Before Kemen could properly protest, I took a big gulp of air and jumped off the edge.
The water was cooler here, and seemed to push against me as I dived. Swimming always gave me a strange feeling – my heartbeat in my ears, how light my limbs were – that I imagined was similar to being an otherworldly presence.
My hand closed around the strange object, many edges poking sharply into my flesh. I kicked for the surface.
My head broke into the air and I gave a great, shuddering cough as I treaded water. Kemen, face white with anxiety, leaned forward to offer me his hand. I paddled over and took it, letting him pull me to where the water wasn’t deep.
“How ‘bout you don’t do that again,” he said.
“It’s effective.”
“I’m wondering how you’re still alive.”
“I’m determined to not die. That’s how.”
“Terrible excuse. Let’s go back to shore.”
Kemen practically dragged me out of the lake, back to where Behorra and our things were. Behorra had moved on to finding whatever few bits of grass she could. Kemen sat down on the ground. “Right. So what did you find?”
I set between us something wrapped in a scrapped skin, which was ripping. I cut the bit of sinew holding it closed and its contents spilled in front of us.
Bead strands.
Long, sinuous strands of shell, shell, bone, stone, bone, horn, repeating after one another, fine patterns inscribed and dyed with ochre. The same patterns worn in my own hair.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like my chest was consumed by that crushing feeling until my lungs had ceased to exist. My fingers trembled as they reached out to pick up a strand. I could hardly feel it, but it was real.
“This can’t be right.” I could hear my voice, but it was like another was speaking through me. I was on my feet, since when was I on my feet? I wanted to fly away, no, I wanted to be swallowed by the earth.
“That’s from your clan, isn’t it?” Kemen asked.
“Of course it’s from my clan!”
The strand was bright in my hand, bright and pale and wrong.
“It was only put there recently, judging by the colours. So how did –”
“Because someone took it! Because a human KILLED them, don’t you get it?” I flung my hand out towards the lake, the bead strand swinging like a talisman. “If a demon had been the one to drag them into the lake, there wouldn’t be anything left – or if there was, it’d be a hand or a head or – not this!” I shook the bead strand in his face. “Things like this – they only have meaning for humans! Only humans think – only humans know – this is part of a person!”
My knees gave out. The bead strand fell from numb fingers. I couldn’t breathe – I couldn’t breathe – “They’re dead. They’re all dead. Everyone . . .”
My chest was being crushed into nothing. My throat closed up and burned along with my eyes and nose.
There was a horrible sound ringing through the air. A sound to tear your heart and mind to shreds. Everything around me blurred and burned.
Something warm and solid snaked around me, a boundary between where I ended and the crushing began. There was familiar yet unfamiliar touch, familiar yet unfamiliar words, something so right and so wrong because what was so right, was gone forever.
A great, strange hiccupping sound burst out of me, and then tears were running down my face, tracing over my nose, my lips, dropping off my chin in a horrible, ticklish feeling.
My throat burned and tore as I wailed, I couldn’t get any air in, but I couldn’t stop. The crushing feeling had crushed me so tight my insides were bursting out.
The horrible ringing sound faded to nothing. I felt like I’d been scoured to nothing and only numbness remained.
My breath still shuddered, and Kemen had stopped speaking, though he still held me tightly. My head rested on his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. Gradually, I felt my own slow to match his.
My head felt strangely placed on my neck, but the rest of me had settled in my skin, and I pushed myself away from Kemen. “. . . I’m sorry,” I managed hoarsely.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said.
I scrubbed at my face with the heel of my palm. It came away wet. “I just . . .”
Kemen closed his hand over mine. “The dead like it when we mourn, for it reminds them of love and life. My only question is this: what are you going to do next?”