Chapter 8
Luzia
I knew I had to say yes to Caio.
I liked the way his name formed on my tongue.
The forest was hardly a sanctuary compared to my river, and a chill seeped into my bones. Where else could I go?
But shelter wasn’t my only need. I craved answers. I had to understand how this man possessed the Seolais, our lost pendant.
The wood that formed the partly transformed Encantado held the whispers of my ancestors, the key to secrets hidden from the present. Seeing it dangling from his neck had sent a jolt through me, awakening me to possibilities of a future our queen denies.
Inside his home, the air hung heavy and still, thick with unfamiliar scents—woodsmoke, cooked food, something faintly sweet. My bare feet felt awkward on the smooth wooden floor.
Caio’s mother, a sturdy woman with a warm smile and unnervingly knowing eyes, watched me. Caio seemed oblivious to the weight of the Seolais as he chattered about his day, helping his mother around the stove.
“Good thing I made plenty for us… and a guest,” she said to him, her voice laced with amusement. She turned to Caio, a teasing glint in her eye.
He looked at me then, and for a moment, the way his eyes locked with mine stilled the discomfort inside me. Being closer to the Seolais also calmed me.
Elisa smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “Luzia,” she repeated softly. “I had a friend a long time ago, and we played in the river.” She spoke as if recalling an imaginary friend, a childhood fantasy.
The name echoed in the small room, a phantom whisper from a past I barely understood. Luzia.
How could she know? My mind raced.
I was named for my great-aunt. Our kind live for centuries, far longer than humans.
Was it possible that in her long life, my great-aunt had known a human?
Trusted one enough to share a family name?
But why? My thoughts tangled, snagging on the impossibility.
The strange coincidence sent another tremor through me.
Elisa gestured to the table laden with dishes, her warm smile pulling me abruptly back to the strange, unsettling reality of this human house and the prepared meal laid out.
The plate before me, piled high with steaming, colorful mounds, was a landscape as foreign as this house.
Deep purples, vibrant yellows, and leafy greens swam in fragrant sauces.
I poked hesitantly at a particularly bright yellow concoction, unsure if it was plant, animal, or something in between.
The aromas, while intriguing, were far removed from the earthy scents of the forest I knew.
My stomach rumbled, a hollow ache that reminded me I hadn’t eaten since leaving the river, yet I hesitated. Could I even eat this?
Elisa, ever observant, seemed to sense my apprehension.
“It’s moqueca,” she explained, gesturing to the yellow dish.
“A stew made with coconut milk, dendê oil, and… well, you’ll see.
” She gave me a reassuring smile, then placed a piece of the grilled fish onto my plate.
“But try the fish first. It’s fresh from the river. ”
The familiar taste, though subtly spiced, was a welcome anchor in this culinary unknown. I took another bite, cautiously this time, of the moqueca. The creamy texture and unexpected sweetness surprised me. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different.
Caio dug into his plate with gusto. He sat beside me, shoveling down the colorful mounds with an enthusiasm I couldn’t quite comprehend.
Elisa watched us both, her expression unreadable. Then, a tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room.
“Luzia, this is my husband, Paulo,” Elisa said, her voice filled with affection.
Paulo nodded a greeting. “Welcome to our home, Luzia,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. He sat down at the simple wooden table, joining us in this strange yet comforting ritual of shared food.
I surprised myself by finishing almost everything on my plate, the initial strangeness of the food giving way to a pleasant fullness. Thereafter, a wave of exhaustion, delayed but inevitable, washed over me.
The tension of the day, the shock of seeing the Seolais, and the strangeness of this new environment all weighed heavily on me. I stifled a yawn, suddenly aware of the heavy droop of my eyelids.
“You look exhausted, dear,” Elisa said, her voice gentle. “Caio, why don’t you show Luzia to your room?”
Caio, who had been engrossed in meticulously cleaning his plate, looked up, surprised. “My room?” he repeated, glancing at his mother, then back at me. His mother’s firm nod settled the matter. “Of course, I said I would sleep in the hammock.”
He led me down a short hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath our bare feet. The walls were adorned with brightly colored tapestries, depicting scenes of river life and lush jungle foliage, along with family photos.
“Here you go,” he said, opening a door to reveal a small, simply furnished room.
A narrow bed, covered with a brightly woven blanket, occupied most of the space. A small wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed, and a single window looked out onto the dense foliage surrounding the house. It wasn’t much, but it felt safe.
“You’ll need some clean clothes,” Elisa said, appearing in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over my stolen clothes. I flushed red, knowing what I had done.
“I’ll find you something more comfortable,” Elisa added before slipping away.
Exhaustion tugged at me, making the prospect of rest and shedding the weight of the day even more appealing.
Caio lingered by the doorway, his gaze fixed on my ankle. “Can I check?” he asked.
Hesitantly, I extended my foot. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a strange mix of unease and something else. He traced the smooth skin where the ankle had swollen, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
“It really is better,” he whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. “Almost completely healed.”
His reaction, the awe in his voice, made me uneasy. Does he know? Know about the healing powers of the river, about the connection between my people and the Seolais? I quickly pulled my foot back, a knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Elisa reappeared, a glass of water in her hand.
“These were for charity, but they should fit,” she said, placing a stack of clothes on a nearby chair. Then she held out a glass of water. “You look thirsty.”
I took it, surprised. How did she know? I hadn’t said a word. I took a long drink, the cool water soothing my parched throat.
Elisa placed the neatly folded clothes on top of a chair. Why did they wear such uncomfortable clothing against their skin?
Elisa lingered for a moment, her gaze searching mine. Then, she began to speak, but her voice was soft and melodic, and the words twisted and shifted, becoming a torrent of unfamiliar sounds.
“?Quién eres realmente? ?De dónde vienes?”
Panic flared in my chest. What was happening? Why couldn’t I understand her? My muscles tensed, my instinct screaming at me to flee back to the river.
Caio, sensing my distress, took a step closer to me. “Mom, she’s tired.”
And just as suddenly, his mother’s words became clear again, the strange sounds resolving back into language I knew. Of course, Caio was closer to me which meant so was the Seolais.
“I just wanted to make sure you were settling in all right,” she said, her voice regaining its familiar cadence, though her eyes held a sharp, knowing glint. She had been testing me.
“I am,” I said quickly, my heart still pounding. She’d only shown me kindness, but that brief moment of linguistic blindness was terrifying.
Elisa gave me a reassuring smile, then slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with Caio.
He hesitated in the doorway, the pendant resting against his chest. The air between us was thick with unspoken questions.
I could see the conflict in his eyes—the scientific mind trying to rationalize the impossible healing of my ankle, the man trying to understand the strange girl who appeared from the river.
“Well,” he said finally, the word feeling inadequate. “The hammock is calling my name. Sleep well, Luzia.”
He gave me a small, uncertain smile and gently closed the door, leaving me in silence. The soft click of the latch felt like a final, definitive separation.
I went to the bed, a strange place to sleep. I slipped off the clothes, which were too painful on my drying skin. My skin prickled, knowing it was Caio’s bed, and I could smell his scent when I slipped between the sheets.
The air was filled with the lingering scent of him—woodsmoke, sunshine, and something uniquely him, something that made my breath catch in my throat. A forbidden warmth bloomed in my chest, a dangerous, intoxicating feeling that both thrilled and terrified me.
Sleep was impossible. The man in the hammock just outside my door held the key to my understanding this world and the Seolais that could save my people. And my heart, I feared, was in just as much danger as my mission.