Authors: Jess Allison
“Ja'Nil,” said a voice.
“Aunt M’eer?”
“Help me,” her aunt groaned.
“You’re not dead.”
She wasn’t alone! All she had to do was get Aunt M’eer safely to land. Then her aunt would take over. Ja'Nil wouldn’t have to …well, make decisions.
She put her right arm around her aunt and began towing her. Within minutes, the waves caught them and tossed them onto the rocky beach. Then, in the manner of a jealous lover, the sea tried to take them back. Ja'Nil grabbed her aunt under her armpits and pulled her above the sea line. When her aunt was safe, Ja’Nil dropped to her knees, head hanging down like a whipped dog, trying to get her breath back. Her throat ached from all the seawater she had swallowed.
Her arms were trembling so violently that, finally, she just lowered her entire body down onto the sand. Faintly, as though far away, she heard her aunt moan, then the unmistakable sound of vomiting.
She should get up and go help her. Ja’Nil raised her head. Aunt M’eer was only an arm’s length away, but right this minute, Ja’Nil couldn’t have traveled that distance if her life depended on it.
There were some more moans, and then finally, silence.
A fair wind was blowing in from the sea, washing over their wet bodies, lowering their body temperature. Ja’Nil, mostly asleep, shivered, but was unable to pull herself back to consciousness.
CHAPTER 4
First Sun was glaring down on her, when Ja’Nil finally dragged herself back to wakefulness. Several rocks, the size of her fist, were digging into her back. Even without moving, she could feel aching muscles and sharp pains. As she lay quietly, afraid to move and make things worse, she became aware that someone was staring at her. Oh, Lord, not one of the pirates. Cautiously, she opened one eye and found herself eye to beady eye with a large pink seagull. He was standing on her chest, inches from her face.
“Get off,” she croaked.
He was not intimidated. With a groan, she shoved herself into a sitting position, knocking him off his perch. With an angry squawk, the bird hopped away from her, but did not fly off. It gave a little all-over shake, resettled its pink feathers, and turned its attention to the other near-by motionless bundle.
Ja’Nil had sat up too quickly. Her head ached. Her hair was full of sand, and when she tried to moisten her lips, she tasted sand. Ugh! But she was finally awake enough to look around. They were on a deserted beach. As far as she could see, there were sand hills, a few scrub plants and burning sands. The glare hurt her eyes.
Just two feet away, her aunt was curled-up in a small ball. Ja'Nil stared at her. This was the woman who had terrified Ja'Nil for years. But she was so tiny!
Her aunt moaned, startling the seagull into spreading its wings and taking off. Ja'Nil staggered to her feet. Every part of her body ached. She was fourteen years old and felt like ninety.
“Aunt M’eer, are you awake?”
A moan was her only answer. Ja'Nil put her hand on her aunt’s arm then jerked it back. Aunt M’eer was burning up.
“Aunt M’eer, are you all right?” What a dumb question. Of course, she wasn’t all right; she was desperately sick.
Ja'Nil looked around her. Plenty of water, but nothing to drink. Well at least she could cool her aunt down. Taking off her brown, homespun tunic, Ja'Nil, wearing only a thin cotton undershirt and leggings, walked down to the water’s edge and swished the tunic in the shallow water. She wrung it out slightly and carried it back. Using the wet tunic to wipe her aunt’s feverish face, she tried to get the sand off her.
The lance was no longer in her aunt’s shoulder but the wound was still seeping blood. Ja’Nil tore a strip of cloth from her wet tunic and fashioned a makeshift bandage. All the while, Aunt M’eer moaned at the pain Ja’Nil’s clumsiness was causing her.
“Water,” said her aunt.
“I don’t have anything to drink, Aunt M’eer.”
“Water,” insisted the barely conscious woman.
Oh, God of the Circle, what if her aunt died? She didn’t even know what direction to take to get home. And what would she do with her aunt’s body? You couldn’t just leave a body where it died, could you? An equal measure of panic and shame filled her chest, rising to her throat, choking her. It was so quiet. Was Aunt M’eer already dead?
All of a sudden, the little hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. Very slowly, Ja'Nil turned around. About two dozen ship lengths away, stood a tall heavyset man. He was standing next to a horsedrawn wagon. The horse must be huge, thought Ja'Nil. Back at home, all the horses were puny. Aside from its size, it looked like a regular horse with the usual black and brown stripes and a black mane and tail. Even more amazing than the horse was the man. Even at this distance, she could tell he was a Cloud Person.
As soon as he realized she saw him, he started towards her. He was at least two measures taller than she was. His hair was pure white and worn in two thick plaits. His skin was pale green, except where his nose was peeling and sunburned. Ja'Nil could sympathize with that; the tips of her pointed ears frequently burned, especially when she didn’t wear a hat.
The Cloud man wore a slouchy looking black hat and dusty black trousers that were tucked into short boots. His shirt was sort of a dirty white color with billowy sleeves that were rolled back from his wrists, showing thick sunburned forearms. He looked stronger than any two of the pirates put together. Ja'Nil just hoped he was friendlier.
When he was about a ship length away, Ja'Nil raised her hand, half as a stop signal, half as a greeting. The man immediately stopped where he was. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
“Hello,” said Ja'Nil.
The man nodded to her. They stayed that way, just staring at each other. His eyes were narrowed against the morning sun, but Ja'Nil could see they were pitch-black. Clouders were supposed to have long necks, but this guy’s neck was simply thick. Finally, he said, “You’re an Earther.”
“Ja'Nil nodded. “Yeah.”
“I ain’t never seen a girl Earther before,” said the man.
“Ah-huh. Do you have any water?”
“Yeah, back in my wagon. Ya want some?”
“My aunt,” said Ja'Nil, turning and pointing to where her maybe-dead aunt lay.
“I din’ even see her,” said the man. He went over to her aunt, knelt down next to her and put his large hand on Aunt M’eer’s bare arm, “She’s hotter’n a cheap slot.”
“Slot?” asked Ja'Nil. To her surprise, the man’s face turned bright green. Just then, Aunt M’eer gave sort of moan-sob. “She needs water,” said Ja'Nil.
“She needs more than that.” He put his arms under Aunt M’eer’s motionless body and stood up with her. “Come on,” he said, and started off with Aunt M’eer curled up in his arms. Ja'Nil trotted alongside.
When they reached the wagon, the giant horse turned his head, stared at the three humans, sighed deeply, and turned away again. The Clouder man carefully lowered Aunt M’eer into the back of the wagon.
“Do you know where to find a healer?”
“Inn keeper’d knowed.”
“How far is the inn?” Ja'Nil looked around her. Aside from the rough looking road, she could see nothing manmade for miles around.
“I’ll take youse.”
“Thank you.” Ja'Nil beamed at him. He blushed again. He was holding a large stone bottle to Aunt M’eer’s lips. A little water slopped out onto her face.
Ja'Nil licked her dry lips.
The water on her face seemed to revive Aunt M’eer. She opened her mouth for the water and tried to speak at the same time. The combination sent her into a coughing fit while the water poured over her face. The man thumped her on her back with his huge hands.
“Maybe I should try,” suggested Ja'Nil.
“Yeah. Go ahead.” He let go of Aunt M’eer to step out of the way. Aunt M’eer’s head immediately dropped back onto the wooden wagon with a thump.
Ja'Nil winced in sympathy. She managed to get a few mouthfuls of water down her aunt’s throat before her aunt turned her head away with a fretful whimper. There was no cover over the wagon, so her aunt had to endure the sun’s full glare.
“Is it all right if I have a drink?” asked Ja'Nil.
“Yeah, sure.”
Ja'Nil had never tasted anything so good. She held it in her mouth and swished it around so the dried membranes in her mouth could bathe themselves in the life giving sweet water. She let the water trickle down her parched throat. Finally, reluctantly, she handed the bottle back to the man.
He was watching her very intently. His hands were shaking. When he saw she was looking at him he turned away.
“My name’s Ja'Nil,” she said. He just nodded, “What’s your name?”
He kept his head down. His hands were shaking so much he was having trouble putting the stopper back in the bottle. Finally, he mumbled something.
“What?”
“T’eem,” he said. “My name is T’eem.”
“That’s a nice name.”
Was it possible for him to blush any greener?
“Come on,” he mumbled and started around to the front of the wagon. Ja'Nil checked to make sure her aunt was firmly in the wagon. She took her damp tunic that she had been carrying over her arm and spread it over her aunt’s face to shield her from the burning sun. Then she climbed onto the wagon seat next to T’eem.
***
Despite the fact that Ja'Nil had never traveled further than the neighboring village, and had never seen a real Inn, she was not impressed when they finally reached it.
“The No Name Inn?” she asked T’eem after reading the name on a large, faded, and cracked sign.
T‘eem shrugged. “Innkeeper says you call it the No Name, then it can’t be identified. Ya can always say, ‘musta been some other place’.”
* * *
The Inn was a two-story structure with dormer windows poking out of the ratty looking roof. Ja'Nil guessed the windows were just for ventilation, because the area just below the roof would not be comfortable even for midgets.
The building itself, aside from its peaked roof, was square and ugly looking, as if someone had taken an old box, set it down alongside a bumpy trail, cut out windows and doors and just walked away. It was made of some sort of dun colored crumbly bricks. There were big cracks running up the walls and the whole thing listed to one side.
T’eem stopped the wagon in front of the Inn. Almost immediately, the front door was flung open and a short, very fat man came out. He was an Earther, Ja'Nil saw with some relief. Perhaps he knew her village.
“What in the seven hells ya doing comin’ round to the front, T’eem? Get round back to the loading flat.” His voice was high and scratchy, as if he needed to clear his throat. It made Ja'Nil clear her own throat.
The innkeeper turned sharp eyes on her. “What ya got here?”
“Ahh,” said T’eem. His hands were trembling so badly the reins actually shook, making the horse shift nervously, and show a lot of white around his eyes.
The innkeeper grinned at her. Ja'Nil, who was beginning to wonder about her obsession with teeth, noticed that unlike the pirates, the innkeeper had all his teeth, but they were brown and stubby looking.
“Ya brung me a present, T’eem?” asked the man. His fat tan face was none too clean and he had a lot of nose hair.
T’eem shook his head, but seemed unable to utter a word.
“I’m Ja'Nil,” she told the innkeeper.
“Whatcha doing with T’eem? He shakes so much, all he gots to do is put it in to make you squeal.”
Ja'Nil didn’t know what he was talking about. She looked at T’eem. The big man was blushing so much that she was afraid he would melt. He refused to meet her eyes, just kept his head down staring at his boots.
“There were pirates,” she finally said to the innkeeper. “My aunt was wounded. She’s sick.” Ja'Nil pointed to the back of the wagon.
The man waddled around to the back of the cart. Ja'Nil turned to watch him. He threw back the tunic Ja'Nil had used to shield her aunt from the sun and peered down suspiciously at the sick woman. He drew back sharply. “She’s a fevering,” he said.
“Yes, I know,” said Ja'Nil. “Her wound needs--”
The innkeeper shut her off. “Ya brought fever to my inn,” he yelled at poor T’eem. “Get them out of here.” T’eem just stared dumbly at the innkeeper. “Go on, get, I said.”
Ja'Nil put a hand on T’eem’s arm to stop him from leaving. Then she jumped down from the wagon seat and ran to the back of the wagon. “It’s not catching.”
“How would you know? You a healer?”
“It’s from the wound, that’s all. Otherwise, she’s perfectly healthy.”
“She is?” The innkeeper inched closer and peered down at Aunt M’eer’s huddled figure.
“Absolutely.”
“You got any monies?” he asked.
“Monies?”
“I don‘t abide beggars.”
“I’m not a beggar!”
Did Aunt M’eer have any monies on her?
“Lemme see it.”
“Ah. My aunt has the -- our monies.”
The fat inkeeper, moving very fast for such a ponderous person, started searching through Aunt M’eer’s poor, bedraggled form. Aunt M’eer moaned and waved a weak hand in a pathetic attempt to keep the man away from her.
Trying to protect her aunt, Ja'Nil wedged herself in-between Aunt M’eer and the innkeeper. She assumed he would step back. He didn’t. Instead, he looked her skinny form up and down, and to Ja'Nil’s amazement, seemed to like what he saw.
“If you’ll step back, I’ll get the monies. Ahh, how much for a room?” she asked.
“She got fever. She ain’t going in no room,” he said.
“But the fever’s from her wound. She’s not contagious.”
“How you know?”
”Everyone knows.”
“She can go in the stable. If she got the price.”