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Authors: Nicola McDonagh

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BOOK: Echoes from the Lost Ones
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The fire spit spat and sent flecks of gold embers spurting around the room. When I was just a tot and on my first camp with Santy, she made a fire and I thrilled to the sputtering of logs and the flashes of cinders as the wood cracked and faded. I thought they were the eyes of the dead keeping watch on those that still prevailed. Santy Breanna just smiled when I said this to her, but you know what? She didn’t say it wasn’t so.

I continued to nosh and peruse the place, wondering how they kept dry if it were to rain. I looked up and noticed that the hole at the top had a canopy pulled half way across it with two ropes descending to a massive hook stuck near the bottom of the wall. No doubt the thing could be pulled over in case of a downpour.

I glanced back to where Wirt stood, head bent as if he were not allowed to lift it up. I wondered why he did not join the rest, and then saw Aiken approach him, scuttling like an earwig in the shadows. He peeked around the room and I lowered my gaze, but not enough so that I could not see what he was doing. He whispered words into Wirt’s ear that made the youth close his eyes and grimace and me to further question the actions of these males. Wirt shook his head and Aiken gave him a mighty cuff around the ears, which made him totter forward. Then the ‘dult walked slinkily  back and set his backside down next to Brennus.

“The hour is overdue and I would see ye lay down. A bunk up high should keep ye right till morning. Don’t frown. The fire crackles endlessly. No wolfies dare come near,” Brennus said with a look of softness I had not believed possible on a face so marred with struggle and lack of soap. I did not have the heart to say it wasn’t the Wolfies that made me fret, but the Nearlymen and their burning eyes.

“Do you think I could have some water to abloosh myself with before I take to bed?” A hush fell upon the place, and all cast down their eyes as though I had said “Schmallenberg infection.”

“Such luxuries are forbidden. We roll in dust and wipe our lower bits with moss. Ye are welcome to do the same.”

“Oh, ta,” I said and felt a gush of heat swarm over me. I noticed that the Nearlys all had a leering look upon their gobs. Some, I swear, had their hands below their skirts. The heat fastly turned to an icy shiver and I feared for my safety.

Brennus frowned at the foolish grins and low guttural barks that emitted from the gathered males, and clicked his tongue between his yellow teeth. “Desist from conducting yerselves like lovesick Monks and think of higher things. Preferably above the waist,” he said and clapped his massive hands.

Wirt appeared and I felt a burst of relief sweep over me. I took a closer look as he approached. In the gloom of outside, I had not been able to eye him clearly, and hadn’t realised just how odd he was from the rest. His face was cleaner than the others and his fingernails were smooth, as though a girlygig had given him a handcare.

“This teenbull will take ye to the place of wash and help ye to yer resting.” Brennus leant close and spoke in lowness so only I could hear, “This male is too fine for what he must become. Ye womb is safe, be soothed by this.”

I picked up some meaning from his remark, his Highland accent as thick as all the others meant I had some difficulty in comprehending all that he said in one go. It was the word “safe” that  finally  caused my muscles to slacken. I showed respect and bowed, then turned toward the not-right teen. He gave me a tiny smile, and for reasons, I know not, I took his hand and said, “Show me where you splosh.”

His face went redder than a bub about to plop and everyone, including me, let out a merry guffaw. I hadn’t meant to use such a nursery word, but when I looked at his soft brown eyes and slender arms I went all mumsly. Not like me at all. I began to wonder if the ‘dults had palmed a soother into my stew.

“Wirt, take our guest and look to keep yer gaze upwind and hands inside yer pouch.”

“I shall be as bro and see no harm come, as is the duty of the colony and Woodsfolk alike,” Wirt said and strode dainty-like to the threshold. I followed keenly, glad to be away from the smell of teenbull urge. I took a swift look back and saw three grisly looking Nearlys stare keenly at Wirt. They dug each other in the ribs and nodded their heads. Aiken walked up beside them and whispered who knows what into their ears. I shivered not knowing why and hurried outside to join my escort.

It was dark. Not so strange for nighttimes I know, but in Cityplace the sky is always lit with the glare from road lamps and info boards. I lifted my head to the heavens and saw something wondrous.

Stars.

Millions of them winked and blinked, making shapes that looked like old, old cartooneys that Santy Breanna showed me once. Although I had witnessed these bright objects before when scouting with her, it had been a great lapse of time since I had perused them in all their might. I lost myself in their luminance until Wirt coughed.

“’Scuse yer musings, but it’s cold and I forgot to heave on my thigh socks. The place for relieving is quick.”

“Right, sorry. Lead me on.”

He walked ahead and I could not help but notice how lightly he treaded each step. Although a hand taller than myself and thinner around the middle, he was as graceful as a kittle chasing a nanomouse in a slab-tech game. I kept close and listened for wolfie growls, or Agro steppings. He must have heard my fear and turned.

“No Wolfie tonight, too clear and bright. Our Lady Moon protects with her generous gleam.”

I had forgotten that the Woodsfolk believe so well in all things Nature, and confess to say, on witnessing the glowy stars, I understand why they just might.

Wirt stopped by an interwoven willow screen and waved his hand to indicate I should go behind. Placing my feet carefully to avoid mushy lumps, whose origin I could only guess at, I slinked behind the concealment and let out a sigh. My bladder bulged beyond its capacity and I badly needed to change my reddie sponge. So I called out to Wirt, “Is there a special section for bodily fluids to escape?”

“We mainly dig a hole and piss in there.”

“Oh, right. I’ll just do that then,” I said and gouged the ground with the heel of my walkerboots. I loosened my trousers, dropped them, pulled down my Stayclean pants, and filled the hole and then some. Taking Brennus’s advice, I snatched some moss from the side of the screen and dried my parts. Then attended to my blood sponge. I did not, however, roll around in the dirt, but used a Moister from my Comfort bag to wash away the grime and mud from face, armpits and hands. Feeling as clean as could be expected, I returned to Wirt.

“Better for the relieving?”

“To be sure.”

“Then let us to bed. Tomorrow ye must use yer powers and provide us all with...”

He stopped quite sudden and put his hand over his mouth. I froze and heard the puff-puffing of a beast nearby. “Wolfie?” I asked preparing myself for flight.

“No. Keep walking.”

I did, but found it hard to keep up with Wirt, who paced speedily without the need to run. The animal noise grew louder, as did the sound of other foots. I was relieved at the thought that more teens or ‘dults were with us and slowed to catch my breath.

“Stay with me, do not slack.”

There was an urgent tone to his words, which left me quite confused. Until a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me to the ground. I didn’t stay there long. Years of training with Santy Breanna had made me well prepared for scrap.

Agro was my first thought, but on rising, I noticed the familiar Woodsfolk patterned skirt, worn by the Nearlys and ‘dults alike. I became at once feared and disgruntled at their boldness. No male would be taking my most prized, not without my utmost authorisation.

Of that, you can be sure.

“Keep to the soil girlie. Our intent lies with him,” a larger than the rest male said. I could not help but think that I had heard his voice before. He wound his fingers around Wirt’s wrist. “If ye do not comply, yer time will come. Bringer or not.”

I stood and saw what passed for three Nearlymen and a Manlyman. Their faces covered with thin red gauze. To disguise their real and mean intent, no doubt. I was about to rage and take one down when Wirt spoke, “Rest behind the tree and listen to yer digits. I will come for ye when all is done.”

“Erh? Wirt, what’s up?”

“Do this I say and they’ll not partake of yer things. If I return with ye all wronged, then I will be taught a lesson I’ll not forget in a hurry.”

“Wirt, pull away.”

“Please, yer safety is in peril.”

“As is yours. I sense it from their hunger.”

“Which is of full ripeness. Go, now.”

The look of anguish he threw at me, made me back away and do his request. I sneaked behind a great big tree, squatted on the ground and put my fingers in my ears.

Chapter Three

Tough Love

I could tell from the leftover wet on his cheek that Wirt was in pain, inside and out. There was a small bruise on the side of his full pink mouth and a deep graze on the side of his neck. His red wrap skirt was the wrong way round and the scratch marks on his calve and knees did not come from the greenery with spikes where I’d found him on his hands and knees. On seeing me, he stood.

“We must to camp or the elders will become wary of our absence.”

“You shake with hurt. Let me ease the signs of struggle before we leave,” I said and set my Synthbag on a moss-covered rock. Wirt let his head hang down and I was overcome with mumsly concern. “Come, sit and I’ll swipe a Mediswab across the wounds. The healing is quicker than the ravaging. It is a pity that I only have treatment for the surface aches.”

“Not so,” he said, sat down next to me and took my hand. His grip was soft and warm and as gentle as a bubs kiss. I squeezed lighter than I’m used to and carefully placed the Mediswabs across the red marks on his legs.

“What they  did...”
 

“Let us not speak of it.”

“So many kinds of wrong has happened here Wirt.”

“I must not think of it. I must not.”

I watched him squeeze his eyes tight shut and breathe in hard. He did a better than good job at preventing the shakes to overthrow his body and despite his delicate ways, I thought him the bravest and strongest male I had ever known.

“You should maybe let Brennus in on what those Thugbulls did.”
 

“The first time, I did so.”

“The first? How many more since?”

“Eight, no, nine.”

“He would not have this stop?”
 

“He would not have this voiced.”
 

“Coward.”
 

“Nay, careful.”

“They will not reach manliness this way.”

“They already have.”

I stood and turned from him, not wanting him to see the anger in my face. I wiped away a tear and breathed in a deep lungful of cold air. “Tomorrow I shall bring meat and more.”

“Ye are deep with feeling.”

“I am deep with rage.”

“Empty it. I have, long ago. Ye see,” Wirt said and held up his graceful hands. “They gave me perk. To keep my silence. I am the only Nearly let to puff-puff upon the baccy that blanks things out. Plus, the Ladies when they come to rub the tired and sore limbs of the Manlymen and tell their make believe tales, they make pet of me.”

“Clean nails and befuddlement cannot make up for their digression.”

“In one year I will be a Manlyman and then I’ll leave.”

In one year, I thought, this makeshift male will be as nothing. I had a scheme brewing in my nonce. “Are you fit to travel?”

“With yer care, I am.”

I offered Wirt my arm and he pulled himself upright. I made a smile and swished his skirt to face the right way and to my discomfort and joy, Wirt wrapped his arm around my middle and huggled me close. Now, if any other uninvited teen had done this to me, I would have ripped his nads from their resting place and flung them to the raptors. Instead, I did the same to him, and cozied thus, we walked back.

Just before the entrance, Wirt and I dropped arms. He strode in first then I slightly behind. The Nearlymen were all-abed and only Brennus and the greybeard Aiken were still awake, sitting and supping something hot. Wirt approached them and they sent their focus to the floor.

Cowards. Cowards all.

“Safely returned as was bid,” Wirt said.

“Job done well. Retire. Go quick,” Brennus said without lifting his gaze. Wirt bowed and left. “Catcher of birds, sit one sec more. Will ye try some grog?”

“I do not partake.” A lie. I have and dare say will again, but my mistrust for these males ran deeper than the lake at Ness.

“Then sit. I will have words or two.”

“Speak. I have no relish of squatting in your midst.”

“Understood.” He raised his giant head and stared full into my eyes. I gazed back not intending for one jiffy to allow him a win. “Ye were found a distance from yer land. Aiken here, so taken with yer status, omitted to discover yer purpose.”

“I quest for my bro-bro, taken by the Agros.”

“So, they have reached as far as that? We have heard rumours that Cityplace is under siege from the Agros. Is this true?”

“It is.”

“What drove them to set upon ye in such a manner?”

“To free the Praisebee rebels that were incarcerated. And, as it turned out, to filch my bro. Santy Breanna and other Specials took a stance against them and they sent forth troops, or rather, Carnies, to put us in our place. The whole city was in lockdown when I left.”

“Then how did ye escape?”

“Diversion set up by a S.A.N.T. and my grangran to fool the perimeter guards. One gave me a tip off and I headed into the forest before I was missed.”

“Why here?

“Not sure. I gleaned not much info from the guard. He just sent me deep into your province as quick as that. With a vague suggestion that I would glean more when I neared the end to this wood. I dare say he wished to have me gone before the Agros observed my lack of presence.”

Brennus rose to his feet and loomed over me as if to strike. I held my position, ready to kick at his delicate area.

“Sent here? For what purpose?”

“That he did not declare.”

BOOK: Echoes from the Lost Ones
5.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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