Chapter 19
- Kenz’ox -
The world spins around me as I stagger out of the ship and over to Aker’iz’s little crib. The griket gets up and wanders a few paces away, tail circling above it.
I suppose it had to come to this. I knew that Dorie wanted to leave.
But I also thought she was happy here, that she had changed her mind.
She wasn’t spending all her time inside the ship; she was smiling and laughing and joking with me.
She cared for Aker’iz in a way so natural it made me stare in awe.
She made things, did things, and seemed as happy as any tribesman is in any tribe.
And all along, she was just itching to get away, just as much as before.
Damned Envoy! Why did it have to be found by my old tribesmen? Why did I have to mention it to Dorie?
She comes out of the ship. “Kenz’ox? Are you all right?”
I don’t turn. If I look at her, something inside me might snap. Instead, I crouch by Aker’iz’s crib and lightly run a hand over her head. The motion steadies me. “You want to leave.”
“I want to find Callie. And Dex may be the only way.” Her voice is brittle.
“And so you will go to the Borok tribe,” I say as I slowly turn around. “And then to my worthless old tribe. I thought you wanted to stay here until the Plood ship worked.” My voice is steady, but only because I’m holding every word by the throat.
“I thought I could. I tried to be at peace with staying. I was happy here. With you. I still am. I don’t want to leave. But if Callie’s alive, I have to try.”
“You want me and Aker’iz to come,” I say. “So you feel safer? Or so you don’t have to meet strangers alone?”
“That’s not it.” Her voice cracks. “I want you with me because I don’t want to be without you.”
I shake my head, jaw tightening. “You want me to join a tribe again.”
“I want you to look. To just… see if it could work. The Borok aren’t like the others. I told you. They’re fair. They’re decent. They’re brave. And there are women. Other little girls, too. For Aker’iz to play with. To grow up with.”
“They have a chief,” I cut in. “The one you can’t stop talking about.
Chief of two tribes, no less. They have a shaman.
They have men who obey without thinking, who let others decide their lives.
Men who would set a small baby girl out in the jungle because she’s not like them.
I have lived like that. I’ve had to kill because of that. I won’t do it again. Not even for you.”
Her face drops a little at the last words. “I wasn’t asking you to join them forever. I wasn’t asking you to… to bow to anyone.”
“You want me to move my baby into a strange tribe.” I gesture sharply with my chin. “But Aker’iz is safe here. With me. With no one to command us. No one to take her away in the night to kill her. No chief who decides if she is to live or die. No shaman who demands it. Here, she is free.”
“And what about me?” she whispers. “What if I have to walk to that tribe alone? What if something goes wrong?”
The wind whips her hair across her cheek. She doesn’t brush it away.
“You have your spear,” I point out. “I feel sorry for any Big that tries to attack you.”
“That’s not the same as you coming with me.”
I look past her, at the jungle and the bushes, at the slivers of sky above. Anywhere but her eyes.
“My place is with Aker’iz,” I say. “And her place is not in a tribe.”
There’s a long, aching silence. Aker’iz’s eyes blink open, then close again as I put my hand on her head and gently caress her, the way she likes.
Dorie closes her eyes. One stray tear escapes, sliding down her cheek. She wipes it away with an impatient move.
“All right,” she says hoarsely. “Then… then I’ll go alone.”
The words hit like a spear. I take a step toward her before I can stop myself. “Dorie—”
“I have to,” she says, backing up a step. “Callie could be dying right now. Or trapped. Or… worse. I can’t live with myself if I don’t try to talk to Dex. Maybe he can’t help. But that won’t make things worse than they already are.”
A knot forms in my throat. I swallow hard. The words burn coming out. “Dorie… Callie is dead.”
She goes very still, eyes widening.
I force myself to continue. “I found her tracks. On the beach. The day after we arrived here. She was taken by a man. A lone man. Not a tribesman. An outcast.”
Her face drains of color. “What?”
“Outcasts don’t take people to help them,” I say quietly. “They take them to kill them, and sometimes eat them. And finding a woman… I don’t want to imagine what they might have done. They are criminals driven from their tribes. Murderers. The worst kind of men, unfit to live with others.”
Her breath stutters. Then her expression hardens, twisting into something hot and sharp. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I look down on her. “Because you were… broken. For days. You were so sad you could barely breathe. I didn’t want to take away the one hope you had left.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Maybe it was wrong. I don’t know. But I couldn’t do it. Not then.”
She shakes her head, disbelief turning to fury. “You can’t make that choice for me.”
“I was going to tell you. But there was never a good time.”
“I’m not a pot that can shatter,” she snaps. “I needed the truth.”
I frown. “I was trying to spare you.”
“I don’t need sparing.” Her voice cracks, but she keeps going, trembling with anger and grief all mixed together. “And you don’t know she’s dead. You don’t. You said you saw tracks. You didn’t see a body. You didn’t see her dead.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I mutter, but it sounds weak even to my own ears. “An outcast took her. One man. In an area where there are no tribes. There’s no worse thing—”
“It doesn’t mean he killed her!” she fires back.
“Maybe he took her because she needed help. Maybe he wanted to trade her to a tribe. Or give her to someone. Or anything! You don’t know, Kenz’ox!
Some of the girls in the Borok tribe were abducted by lone men.
They all survived. You’re just assuming the worst.”
I grit my teeth. “Because outcasts are the worst.”
Her dark eyes shoot black fire. “Aren’t you maybe an outcast yourself? And are you the worst? You’re not!”
I draw breath, but no response comes to mind. “Well…”
“Anyway, you think that’s enough to stop me?” she demands. “You think that because it looks bad, I should just lie down and accept that Callie’s gone?” She steps closer, jabbing a finger at my chest. “I don’t give up on people I care about. Not until I know.”
Her voice softens on the last words, but the determination in her eyes is blinding.
“Even if there’s only a tiny chance Callie is alive,” she says, “I have to take it. I have to.”
I sigh.
This woman.
This impossible, fierce woman.
She will walk straight into danger with duty as her only shield.
And nothing I say will keep her here.
“Then go.”
- - -
Dorie quickly prepares everything. She’ll be walking for at least two moons to reach the Borok tribe. She says she can find it. I tell her all I know about how to get to my old tribe.
“It’s more dangerous than you think,” I warn as she closes the leather pack she’ll carry. “The chief doesn’t want anyone to know about the Envoy. You may have to bring many men and threaten to fight.”
“I don’t want that,” she says, opening the sack again and putting more things in. “What do they need? We can offer to trade in exchange for talking to Dex.”
I think for a moment. “Good steel for swords. Charcoal. You mentioned fabrics? Bright colors for the totem pole. Small blades. Sweet-smelling firewood. Many of my tribesmen will like the strong frit the Borok make. Salt—bring as much as you can. Perhaps find a new site for a village if you spot one along the way. The tribe’s turf isn’t the best. It’s small, and hunting is getting difficult. ”
She gives me a quick glance. “Thanks. I will remember. Can you please keep this?” She hands me a rolled-up sheet of leather with a string around it. “If someone comes from the Borok tribe—a woman, and maybe someone else that you don’t expect—give her this.”
I peer at the roll. “Someone I don’t expect?”
“Someone who’s different,” she says without looking at me. “Maybe very different. Or scary. There are some such men in the Borok tribe, they say. And still, they are members of the tribe. Just like Aker’iz would be. And you.”
I ignore her strong hints. We’ve been over that. “When you meet my old tribe, there’s no need to mention me to them. Or Aker’iz.”
“I won’t,” she promises, closing the pack again. “But I will be back. It may take a while.”
“I don’t think you will,” I tell her, carefully keeping the bitterness out of my voice. “The Envoy will tell you nothing useful. There will be no reason for you to come back here to this broken ship. And you will return to the Borok tribe—and stay.”
She sends me another fiery glance. “Don’t tell me what I will and will not do.”
I shrug, feeling cold and empty. “You’ll be safe there. Among friends.”
“I thought I was among friends right here.”
“You are,” I state. “You could stay. You could realize that Callie will never come back. You could keep trying to repair the ship. I would help you, like I promised. I could even see if I can pick up that track again—the outcast and your friend. It’s been days, and it has rained, but it might not be impossible.
Meanwhile, we could be like we are now. Everything would be as it is. ”
She puts her munbuts on. “It would not. Because now I know where Dex is. I can’t sit still doing nothing about that.”
Dorie straightens and runs her hands down her sides, as if checking that she’s ready. Then she hoists the pack up on her shoulders and grabs her weapon. “Oh, I made a hat for Aker’iz. It’s right there. It’s called a ‘bonnet’.” She points.
“Thank you.”
For a moment, we stand like that, just looking at each other.
“Let me see your spear.” I hold out my hand.
She hesitates, then gives it to me.
I test the point. “It’s dull.” I get my sharpening stone from my belt pouch and hone the spearhead until it’s as pointy as it can get. I hand the spear back to Dorie, along with the stone. “Can’t be in the jungle with a dull weapon.”
She takes the spear, but not the stone. “I can’t take that. It’s your only one.”
“I can make another,” I lie. “Oh, that’s a thing to bring to the Tratena tribe: good sharpening stones.” I drop it into a pocket on her dress.
Dorie looks up at me, eyes shiny. “I’m sorry, Kenz’ox. I have to do this.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Aker’iz and I will miss you.”
She wipes her eyes and glances over at the crib. “I will be back.”
She looks up at me as if she wants to say something. There’s a little shiver in her lips. Then she turns and walks straight into the jungle, over the barricade and past the traps.
“No, you won’t,” I mutter under my breath as she vanishes among the bushes.
I stand there for a long time, just staring at the jungle, hoping to see that little face and that small, remarkably resilient body come back.
Aker’iz starts whining.
I walk over to her and lift her into my arms. “That’s fine, little chief. We’ll be just fine on our own. But we are grateful for the time we had with her.”