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So, this is what Hacatine feels like when her subjects tremble at her feet! Ha! No wonder she wants to rule Taikus. Not a bad feeling. Not bad at all.
Word must have already spread throughout the settlement, telling of Meneka’s ability to catch the rocketing arrows. People stirred in the village as he approached the wharf, moving in and out of their primitive homes made from driftwood covered with woven mats. Meneka sneered quietly to himself, the warm, dry sand now tickling his toes. Barbarians! Beavers have more civilized homes than these.
As he neared the village, the conjurer got a good look at the group of boys who had attacked him. They were not much older than he was. They huddled together, curiosity in their pale eyes, their blond hair falling in curly locks off their shoulders, donned in loin skins of a pulp-like material that Meneka was unfamiliar with. Their bodies were tan and fit. Older men filtered into their congregation. The men were dressed in woven pants, their chests bare. They directed the boys to stand behind them.
“Who are you?” A man stepped forward, crossing his arms. His language was foreign, but having the gift of understanding, the wizard could speak foreign tongues.
“Meneka.” The conjurer only gave the man a half smile, wondering what sort of defense these natives presumed they had against him.
“From Taikus. I’m a wizard.”
The man waited for the mumbling behind him to cease before he spoke again. Meneka’s eye twinkled with delight as he watched the crowd’s reaction.
“What do you want with us?”
“Well, you can start by giving me some food.” His hope for dry clothes had already been stifled. These people had nothing he would wear. He’d wring out his leather and let the sun soak up the night’s damage.
“And a place to rest.”
Silence.
That surprised Meneka. Surely this village had a policy toward nomads that entailed more than sending wobbly projectiles their way.
“What? You can’t help a stranger out?”
“A stranger from Taikus? Why would we?” the man retorted quickly.
Meneka grinned and held up the arrow he’d been carrying, tightening his fist around the shaft. With a single thought, the arrow burst into flame. He dropped it in the sand at the man’s feet, and then laughed when the crowd jumped away.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Meneka asked.
The leader’s face reddened. He turned to his comrades, and they murmured among themselves. Meneka was certain they’d grant his request and turned his attention to the wide-eyed boys. There wasn’t much to say to them. He was on a level much higher than they, coming from a country so much more civilized than this one. Still, he liked the awe that shone in their eyes. Meneka was going to be special here. Something he had never been back home.
When the men stepped out of their huddle, they turned toward the boys and motioned them away, pointing to the village. The men followed the group of boys up the hill. Meneka watched them leave, puzzled. His gaze fell back on the one person who remained.
He was a young man, but older than Meneka, about Kaempie’s age, well-built, tan, with hair the color of the sand. He was dressed in woven pants.
“If you’re hungry, follow me,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Eric. You’ll come to my home, and I’ll feed you, but you aren’t trusted here, you know. Wizards and sorceresses have no name for themselves among us.”
Meneka shrugged. Who says I want to be trusted here? That’d mean I’m accepted, and then I’d be one of you. I should stoop so low.
“Just hungry.”
Eric paused for a moment, his blue eyes studying the wizard.
Maybe he thinks I’ll promise to move on after he feeds me. But I won’t. I’ll stay. These natives can learn a thing or two from me.
“Just hungry,” Meneka repeated more forcefully. Eric turned and led him up the bank and into the village.
Meneka glanced up at Eric. Not once had the young man’s eyes shifted. Now that Meneka was chewing his last bite, the stare felt more intrusive than ever. Meneka scowled.
“The food is pretty good. Not the best. But it serves its purpose.”
“You’re lucky you have food.”
Meneka shrugged. “I could’ve found my own. I just figured since your archers scared the moonbeams out of my friend on the boat, which then caused me to fall overboard, you at least owed me a meal.
“Is that the way Taikans think?”
“It is. And we have manners. And intelligence.”
Eric raised an eyebrow.
“And magic.”
“I’m not afraid of your magic,” Eric said.
“You should be.”
“Why?”
“Because, with one blink of an eye, I could destroy you.”
Eric didn’t seem impressed, so Meneka flicked his finger. It wasn’t a real snake that appeared in his hands. He hadn’t perfected that spell yet. But it looked genuine enough to fool Eric. The young man jumped to his feet and backed away. Meneka folded his hands over the serpent, and it disappeared.
“Why are you here? What do you want with us?” Eric asked.
“We have a common enemy,” Meneka began, his tongue pushed up against his cheek as he pondered what to say. Meneka set his plate on the ground and scooted up against the driftwood wall, attempting to find some comfort on the rough ground. Eric stood near the entrance, mistrusting eyes fixed on the conjurer.
“So, I’m here to help you stand against her.”
“She’s not coming back. She’s been defeated.”
“Is that right?” The conjurer picked at his teeth with his fingernail. “What if I told you I know better?”
“What do you know?”
“I know that every time Hacatine has a harvest, her power escalates. After the last invasion, there were a score of wizards for her to come home to. Today, there are only four left. I’m one of them. So, you see, she’s gained more force since the last time she visited your little community. Right now, she believes the world is at her fingertips. Starting with you.”
The one room shelter was silent as they stared at one another.
“Besides, I can also help you make a better life for yourself.”
“There’s nothing wrong with our life.”
“Oh? How strong are these homes of yours?” he peered up at the holes above his head where the matting fell short. “I can show you how to build a house so strong that when the winds of the north blow against Hacatine, you won’t have to hide in the caves on the mountain. That is where you go, isn’t it?”
Meneka had heard the stories of Hacatine’s invasions. Accounts of the battles were taught to Taikan children in school. The wicked queen mocked the natives for their cowardice behavior. Whenever she attacked, the people would run to the nearby mountain and hide in caves. If it hadn’t been for the torrential storms that would come against her, Hacatine would reign over this quaint little town, enjoying the wealth of its fishing industry and making slaves of its people.
“I’m not the one to discuss this with you. I only offered my home as a place for you to rest, not to engage in battle plans.”
“Then tell someone with a little more authority that I have a deal to make them.”
Eric left. When he did, Meneka inspected the shelter. It was vacant of any furniture, floor mats or basins, a far cry from the marble halls and exquisite architecture of Taikus. These people were unclean, it seemed, although perhaps they did their bathing on the beach. They weren’t ruled by an evil queen that threatened his life, and for that, Meneka was glad he was here.
Now that he was protected from the elements, he took off his wet shirt and threw it over a stub on a pole. Though elementary in its structure, the shelter offered Meneka a safe place to lay his head. The night in the skiff had been wearisome, his napping light. It didn’t take him long to doze into a dreamless sleep.
***
It was midday when Eric stepped inside with three elders at his heels. Their entrance startled the conjurer awake, and Meneka jumped to his feet. Though he didn’t want to seem anxious, their age and size intimidated him.
“Eric says you have something to tell us,” the eldest spoke, his face stern.
Meneka cleared his throat and gained his composure quickly. “I can teach you how to build a yurt.” He blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“A yurt?”
“A structure that would withstand the winds when they blow against the wicked queen.”
The three exchanged glances.
“Why would you help us do that? You’re a Taikan.” They studied him intently; their eyes resembled the tips of blue arrows aimed at his head.
“There are some things going on in Taikus that you don’t know about. My friend and I are running from Hacatine. A brutal witch.”
“We know of her. She’s attacked us before.”
“Then you know of her tyranny? She has killed almost all the wizards on the island, stripping them of their power.”
“Why?” one elder asked. “Why would she destroy her own kind?”
“Because when she does, her magical abilities multiply.”
The smell of heated bodies permeated the room as the men looked at one another. Meneka thought about pushing past them into the fresh air outside, but he refrained. This was a crucial moment. They were on the verge of a decision.
“So, if you help us build one of these... what did you call it? Yurt? What good is it going to do you?” one man inquired.
Meneka thought for a moment. He didn’t dare tell them he wanted to gain their reverence, nor would it be wise to have them think he’d use them as pawns in his revenge against Hacatine. No. He’d have to convince them of some charitable act.
“Your people don’t need to be running to the hills every time the witch attacks. Reinforce the power of the winds by standing firm against her. Don’t let her manipulate you. I’ve seen how she operates, how she maims and kills. You need a little pride.”
The men shifted their stance.
“What I mean to say is you’re a healthy people. You shouldn’t run from her.”
He moved past the three, desperate for air, and stepped outside into the sunshine.
The elders followed him out the door. “All right then, tell us more.”
Meneka shrugged. “That’s it. I’ll help you build some decent housing.”
“In exchange for what?”
Meneka thought for a moment. If he asked for anything in return, anything, he’d be lowering his highly sophisticated self to their level.
“I just want to make sure your village is safe from the sorceress queen. After that, it’s up to you.”
“What’s this going to entail?”
Meneka shrugged. “Maybe five hours of labor at the most. Yurts aren’t too different from what you have here. Just a little rearranging of the walls, really.” He shook one of the poles of the shelter he had exited. Though it seemed sturdy enough in fair weather, it wouldn’t hold a storm. Stories of Hacatine’s battles followed the queen back to Taikus and everyone would laugh at how easily the village was destroyed whenever it was attacked.
“You should put this stranger to work,” the man said.
“Let our boys help him. It’ll be good for them. The nets are clean, and they’ve nothing but idle time right now.”
The elder turned to Meneka. “I’m not so sure of your motives. But if you have some technology from your homeland that you can share, then show us. Keep in mind, though, that you are being watched.”
Meneka nodded, holding back his grin. Good. I want you to watch me.
“Eric! Arrange a work party and follow this boy’s instructions. See if indeed he can build a wind-worthy structure. We’ve nothing to lose from it.”
“And everything to gain,” Meneka added, as the three men turned and walked back to the beach.
Eric summoned a group of boys his age, and they were soon dismantling a few of the shelters that stood on higher ground, working diligently under Meneka’s supervision. They notched poles together, tied them with lacing, and arranged the ‘walls’ in a circle. Meneka built rings with woven reeds the upper tips of the poles slipped into. The rings were erected above the center of the circles and supported with more poles. The frames of the yurts were then covered with woven mats made from reeds and grass. They had built enough yurts to shelter a hundred people easily. More if there were an emergency.
“Back home, we cover them with hides. But this will do for now.” Meneka smiled with a sense of accomplishment as he glanced at Eric. Tomorrow, families will move into their new homes. The two stood admiring their work in the light of the setting sun. But when Eric nudged Meneka and pointed out across the bay, the conjurer froze.
It started as a tiny glow against the southwestern sky, but quickly burst into a streak of red. The forest on the southern shore was aflame. Black smoke billowed into the heavens, covering the earth in darkness. Already, Meneka could smell the pine and fir that was being consumed as the salty breeze carried the residue across the waters.
Alcove Forest was on fire.
There was no lightning. The day had been clear and cool. This fire was not made by natural causes. Meneka could only guess that Hacatine had a hand in it.
Fear became a lump in his throat. He wasn’t safe. No one was safe. Whether Silvio and Reuben survived her attack, he may never know. But he could be certain of one thing. If she had captured or killed those two wizards, she’d be on his trail soon.
