Chapter 8
- Crat'ax -
The village does not pause to mourn what was broken. That is part of the test. The Deep must see that we are dealing with it and rebuilding right away, in Its honor.
I stand at the center walkway and lift my voice, letting it carry across the water and wood. “Cer’ex! Take a canoe and wind some rope around that supporting pole. Vrat’ix, help him wind rope around it.”
They move at once. No argument, no delay. Even the older men shift without protest, hands already reaching for rope and poles.
I walk over to the chief. “We are rebuilding fast, Chief. Thankfully the krai didn’t destroy more.”
“Thank the Deep for that,” he replies. “And for your spear.”
“I am thankful for that,” I agree. “We will find iron for making more of them.” I’m not talking to him to be praised, but for the men to see that I’m consulting him.
I don’t want to weaken his position more than it already is.
He may seem cheerful and smiling, but if I were to put him too deeply into the shadow, he might start to resent me.
And I do want his support, especially now that Callie is here.
I glance over at her. She’s in my boat, picking pieces of debris out of the water. The boat is still tied to the platform, so she leans out, making her round behind stand out in a way that my midsection reacts to in an urgent way, so hard that it’s all I can do to not burst on the spot.
I had no idea I would ever meet a woman. I know the shamans in the jungle tribe talk about the Woman, but none of us here believe in their prophecy. And yet, here she is. A woman, given from the Deep. To me.
At least, I hope she was given by the Deep and not by the Plood.
Men shout to one another. Canoes scrape against platforms. Someone laughs too loudly, the sound brittle with relief. Others are quiet, faces set, and eyes flicking often to the water below.
And through it all, I am aware of her.
Callie has climbed out of my boat and back to the platform, quickly looking around until she spots me.
Then she looks away. She moves more carefully than the others, which she has to.
I watch as two boys come up to her and shyly offer her dried fruits.
She smiles, and seems to joke with them, then sends me another little glance that makes my heart jump in my chest. She’s marvellous. In every sense of the word.
I step onto a half-repaired platform and test it with my weight. It dips, then holds. “Add another brace here,” I say, tapping the joint with my knuckles. “The current pulls harder at midday.”
A younger man nods and does as I say. His hands shake slightly. Many of theirs do. Mine do not, but my body feels too aware, too awake, as if the fight never ended. Every sound carries farther than it should. Every movement draws my eye.
Callie straightens nearby, brushing damp hair from her face.
Her garment is still wet from the krai’s splashing, and I wish I had something else to give her to wear.
My thoughts snag and stumble as I consider the possibilities.
A loincloth would be too little coverage, a fur would be far too hot in the sun. Perhaps there is a way.
I force myself onward.
We work fast. The sun lowers towards the sea, about to be claimed by the Deep all night long.
The broken platform near the eastern edge saw the worst of the krai’s attack.
Two huts lost entirely, poles snapped clean through.
No men died, but one broke a finger, and another was badly cut along his thigh.
Both are taking part in the rebuilding, and the platform has already risen, bigger than before.
“This one,” someone says behind me, “it feels wrong.”
I turn. A man stands with a pole half-raised, hesitating. He does not meet my eyes.
“It will hold,” I say. “Tie it tighter.”
He obeys, but his mouth twists as he works. I hear murmurs drifting across the water, low and indistinct. I do not need sharp hearing to know what they are about.
The krai. Why here and now? It’s been hours, and the men are getting over the relief of having survived.
They’re starting to wonder if my explanation is the right one.
And of course, I can’t be sure. Perhaps it was because of Callie, perhaps the Deep tests us.
Or perhaps It wants to tell me that she comes from the Plood, and that she should be put back.
Well, I won’t do that. I must stick with my explanation and live as if I were certain. And of course, there are other possible reasons for the krai attack.
My gaze wanders over to the special platform, standing by itself as far away from the village as we could build it. There’s no movement, as if there’s nobody there. And in a sense, there isn’t.
Callie has joined the boys who are cutting poles to build a hut from. Many tribesmen send glances over to her, then quickly to me. Some stare at her without shame.
I slap the shoulder of one of them. “If you’re done, Krop’ex, I’m sure the young ones would love some help preparing the evening meal.
I think it will be a good one tonight. The chief has said we will enjoy the best frit, the one Probet’ax made years ago.
” It’s not true, but I’ll talk to the chief later. “For we have much to celebrate!”
The man tears his gaze away from Callie. “Indeed we do. Thanks to you, Crat'ax.”
“Thanks to all of us,” I correct.
He nods piously and gazes out at the horizon. “The Deep is merciful.”
I can’t stand it anymore. I walk over to Callie, placing my loincloth so that my state is less obvious. “There is still time before the evening meal. You and I will go to the jungle to find iron for more spears.”
“You will go?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Oh, you want to be asked?” I grin, strangely delighted that she’s giving some resistance.
“You’re right. Courtesy should be observed.
Let me start anew. Callie, I am going to the shore to find iron.
I want you to come along. Do you want to?
” Of course, if she says no, I won’t go, either.
I don’t want to leave her on her own, and being alone with her is the main reason I’m going now.
“Yes,” she says and brushes down her front. “I will come along.”
We get in my boat, and I paddle us away from the platforms, towards the mouth of the stream that gives us fresh water. “We’ll be back before the meal,” I assure her. “There’s time to find iron. I know where it is.”
Callie strokes her long hair out of her face in a movement that makes my chest ache.
Her scent is sweet and soft, just like her.
Her hips are even wider when she sits on the wooden plank in front of me.
I can’t help the stiffness in my loincloth.
It seems to be permanent now. I keep the bow straight into the small waves, to make sure there’s no splashing.
Soon we’re in the stream, and I have to paddle harder to make way against the flow of the clear water.
The jungle pushes close on each side, the air dense and smelly.
“So much trees,” Callie murmurs. “Like walls.”
“The ocean has no walls,” I say. “Here, everything watches you.”
She nods. “The jungle watch everything.”
I glance at her. “You are afraid?”
“I am,” she says easily. “But afraid is not stop.”
That makes me laugh. A short sound, surprised out of me. “You speak well now,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “The boys told some words me.”
I steer around a boulder. “Smart boys. I think they like you.”
“I like the boys too,” she says softly. “We in jungle now. Should be quiet.”
She has a point. There are so many things in the jungle that want to kill you, and voices will attract them.
We paddle in silence for a while. The water grows shallow and dark beneath overhanging branches. I steer by memory, by bends I know even when they look the same as all the others.
After a time she says, “Why you get iron?”
“For tools,” I answer. “For knives. I want to make more spears like mine. The tribesmen don’t think there’s enough iron for it, but I know where we can get a lot of it.
Nobody else from our tribe went as deep into the jungle as me.
They don’t like the iron. If we find enough, I’ll make a knife for you. ”
She hesitates. “For… me?”
“Everyone needs a knife,” I tell her. “In the village, there are many ropes and lots of wood that often need cutting or whittling. And making food is much easier if you have a knife.”
The stream becomes ever shallower, and I steer the boat onto the rocks on the side. If my boat were smaller, we could use it to go farther, but this will do.
“Here we are,” I state and jump out of the boat. I strap my spear to my back, then offer Callie my hand so she can jump from the boat straight onto land.
She looks up and around, clearly not being too happy about being here. “I not like the jungle.”
“The ocean is better,” I agree as I make my way along the side of the stream, with her behind me. “More open. The only way you can be surprised is from the Deep. Here, the Bigs could come from any side.”
“Or from sky,” Callie points out, and looks up. “The irox.”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised that she knows that word. “That’s right. Have you seen one?”
“I have seen one,” she replies. “High up. I been on Xren years.”
I’m so surprised I stop. “You’ve been here for years? On that beach? In the Plood ship?”
“Years. This many years.” She holds up seven slender fingers.
“Ah. that’s… a long time,” I say feebly. I’m shocked that she’s been here that long. “The Plood brought you here that long ago?”
“Plood ship. Not Plood. Brought me and friends. Other women.”
Again I stop and turn. “I didn’t know that. I mean, you told me about the friend. Theodora. But not several other women.”
“I not know the words to say,” Callie informs me. “But I ask boys. They say words to use. You know now.”
I turn into the jungle, away from the stream. From old habit, I keep looking out for Bigs.