Chapter 4 #2
The path to the lake led her past herbs, flowers, and vegetables she didn’t like the taste of.
The ground beneath her feet grew muddier, slippery.
Before her stretched the pale shore with the mirror-like lake reaching the base of the mountains and the white mist of a tall waterfall.
A soft breeze stirred tiny ripples across the lake’s surface.
She knew better than to go deeper than her waist. The floor dropped away.
She’d almost drowned that day. Still, she forced herself into its cold waters once a week for a complete wash.
Using the ray drained their batteries, and on sunless days, they didn’t recharge before sunset.
She smirked. Had anyone told her nine-year-old self that she’d miss the ray, she’d have laughed at them.
She waded in, to the depths of her knees, bending to locate the wire baskets she’d made out of desperation.
If she had to eat one more dava root, she’d drown herself.
Padya liked the sweet, starchy roots despite their dark brown color.
She far preferred the salty tang of the fish the lake provided, especially the ones with the multi-colored scales.
Their bones disintegrated when cooked, and that was all that mattered to her.
Despite not liking the flavor of their red flesh, Padya named them ceaza, meaning ‘pretty.’ She shrugged. More fish for her and Seba.
Grabbing cages and testing their weight drenched her tunic. She’d tried dragging them to shore, but that broke them or got them stuck in the mud. Getting wet was unavoidable, but the clear skies in a lovely green-blue meant she could build a fire. Perhaps even sleep under the stars.
A heavy cage snagged her attention. She hoisted it out of the water.
Two good-sized ceaza wiggled. She grinned, waded through the mud to the shore, and emptied the cage’s contents into a container.
Back in she went for another cage. Once she found as many as she needed, she freed the others.
With no way to store extra food, she had to cook them fresh.
Same applied to the evar traps tied to the lower branches of the hundred-meter-tall trees stabbing the sky.
The tiny bones of the birds were crunchable, their flavor less salty.
Still, a Durn couldn’t live on fish alone.
One day, she’d climb to the top of a chagla tree, past the mist, to gaze at this world.
She’d made it to the mist layer where cool droplets had dewed on her skin.
In her eagerness, believing she was near the top, she’d misjudged a lunge to a branch and plummeted.
She rubbed her thigh, grimacing when it twinged in response. It had taken her months to heal.
Still, one day she’d clear the clouds and be able to study the northeast plateau. It was futile to hope she’d glimpse her mother.
Back home she headed, dumping the fish onto a smooth rock. She whipped out her dagger and set to cleaning. Seba didn’t mind the eyes, skin, or bones and liked it raw.
With a fire roaring and her portion hanging above the hungry flames, she stood up, arched to better project her voice, and yodeled. Her voice cracked on the fourth note. She winced and started boiling water. A hot tisane would soothe her throat.
He’d heard her, of that she had no doubt. And the aroma of her meal would bring him anyway.
By the time she’d finished her fish and tisane, he had yet to return.
She dozed, sprawled beside the fire with her gaze on the red coals. A crushing weight woke her, and she hummed a greeting, wrapping her arms around his body.
He grumbled, his breath smelling meaty. She turned away, burying her face in his thick fur.
“Good, you ate,” she mumbled.
He wiggled to escape her.
“Did you find Padya?” she asked, not expecting a response. She lowered her hands and met wet fur. “Go for a swim?”
When he whimpered, she sat up and studied her palms. In the meager light of the second moon, the brown color on her skin was easy to spot.
“Why are you bleeding?” she asked, scrambling to her feet without touching the blankets. She washed her hands in a nearby stone trough and hurried inside for the med-kit that held herbs, ointments she’d made, and strips of dried wasay leaves.
She kneeled beside Seba whose pink gaze rested on her. “Just going to clean you, ohara,” she whispered. Reaching around him, she set a pot on to boil. The many tiny gashes said he was attacked by multiple creatures.
“Foolish Seba, getting himself hurt again. What did it this time?”
He sprawled onto his side, soaking blood into her bedding.
She groaned, but as heavy as he was, she wouldn’t be able to move him until he left of his own accord.
With his wounds exposed, she set to cleaning them.
He wouldn’t suffer the strips of leaves, so she didn’t bother.
The ointment would have to do, and it did, usually, if he didn’t lick it off.
She rubbed his brow, scratched behind his four ears, then made up a fresh bed on the other side of the fire.
Being three times her size, getting him to do anything without his help was impossible.
So, she settled on her new bed, moaning and humming as if it was the best bed ever.
He grumbled, rolled over, and climbed onto his six legs only to slump down next to her a moment later.
She smothered a grin despite her morning plans ruined by the chore of washing bedding. With her smelling of his blood and wet fur, a proper bath was in her future, too.
A smack to the chin woke her when the sun had yet to rise. “Seba, can you not behave? You’re the worst to sleep with.”
He smacked her again, and she gave in despite exhaustion making her eyes gritty. Sitting up, she faced the dying fire and poked it with a stick. A waft of renewed warmth had her shivering. She sank into a wide and long yawn.
“I see you ate,” she said when he nudged her shoulder, then nuzzled her neck with his great big head. She chuckled and wrapped an arm around his neck for a cuddle. “You’re incorrigible and lucky I love you.”
Scrambling to her feet, she took a few minutes to inspect his wounds and reapply the ointment. He watched her with his beautiful pink eyes, a purr rumbling under her fingers.
“Would you like ceaza to break your fast?” She arched a brow when he grumbled, then flopped his big head onto his massive paws.
With a laugh, she gathered the dirty blankets, a toweling cloth, her spare garments, and a wooden bucket, then headed for the lake.
Mist hovered above its surface, adding an unwelcoming air to the dark waters.
She stripped, tossing aside her tunic, leggings, and boots, before dipping a foot into the cold waves lapping the shore.
Sand squished between her toes the deeper she waded.
Her skin tightened in protest, sending out bumps.
Her nipples puckered, worsened by a morning breeze chillier than the water.
Taking a deep breath, she jumped in, bedding and all, making sure she wasn’t near the deep side.
She cried out when she rose to take a breath.
“Of all things Elorach, this is…insane! What I’d give for a ray bath.” Everything within her demanded she leave…now.
She smiled. And Mudya used to bribe her.
She flicked aside an escaped tear and swept her gaze east. Without anyone to help her, she squared her shoulders and scrubbed, then rinsed the blood from the threadbare blankets and her worn garments.
When done with one, she left it to float while she tackled another.
Wringing water from each item took its toll, and by the time she spread the last one over nearby boulders, her arms trembled.
All of this was done amid grumbles, complaints, and curses. Speaking to herself kept her sane.
“And now for me.” The cold water didn’t bother her anymore when she waded in to wash herself.
With handfuls of sand, she scrubbed her body.
A glance at the sky showed the passing of hours.
When she at last faced the bank, her stomach gurgled.
Which had her searching for the biggest ceazas.
In and out she ventured, stacking three in the makeshift bucket.
The thought of a hot, salty fish sent renewed energy through her.
With the toweling robe wrapped around her hair, and her dry, clean garments on, she lugged the bucket to the dying fire.
“I can’t believe you’re still sleeping,” she teased her friend, curled into a ball on the pallet beside the fire.
A muted rumble reached her ears. She crouched beside him and ran her hand through his thick white fur, all while assessing his wounds. His purring intensified when she rubbed the tip of an ear.
Creeping across the clearing, she lifted the bucket on the way to the flat rock and started cleaning the fish: one for her, two for Seba.
His nose twitched when she squatted beside the pit to stoke the coals and build the heat.
A tisane would be wonderful. Something hot to warm her belly.
On one side of the fire, she boiled taisra leaves in water; on the other, she roasted her fish. The latter would take moments.
“I’m not feeding you, Seba. Quit being lazy.
” She hitched her thumb to where she’d left his fish and chunks of hers.
And yet, she gathered the raw fish onto a plate and carried it to him.
He didn’t budge except for rolling his eyes open.
When she held a handful of fish to his mouth, he slurped it up, swiping his forked tongue across her fingers.
“So lazy,” she teased, giving his ears another scratch.
He purred and shifted his great bulk to rise, sticking his ass out as he stretched. Only then did he lumber on six paws to the rock and finish his meal.
A little while later, she hummed, her belly full and the sun mid-sky. “No time to look for Padya today,” she said, sadness dipping her chin.
Seba gazed at her, circled the fire, then hesitated on the edge of the clearing. His two tails flicked in agitation.
She sighed. “Go on. Do what you must.”
And just like that, she was on her own. With tears pressing the backs of her eyes, she went about her chores: checking Oz’s batteries and the sol shields, restocking the med-kit’s herbs and ointments, and studying Padya’s sketched map of their area in hopes he’d left a clue.
She returned to the lake to clean her plate and gather fresh water and the dried blankets.
Downhill she trudged, her arms overburdened.
The sun was setting when she climbed the closest chagla tree to check an avar trap. Something other than fish would be a pleasant change. And since Seba might return to her that night, she’d have to get more ceaza.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and paused on a branch far off the ground to study the crevice that was nothing but a dark scar on the distant rock.
“Are you still alive, Padya?” she asked.
Twenty-three days without water or sustenance was a death sentence. Flicking a gaze to the east, she pinched her lips. She didn’t have the vines needed to make a long enough rope.
Fear chilled her.
It was time to explore the eastern forest.