A Different Kind of Deadly (22 page)

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Authors: Nicole Martinsen

Tags: #love, #friendship, #drama, #adventure, #comedy, #humor, #fantasy, #dark, #necromancer, #undead

BOOK: A Different Kind of Deadly
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Epilogue

He
came to the plains
a hollow man, empty
like an old reed pipe. Ash and dust of traveled lands stained his
hair and hid its hue. The black dye he'd been using since was
clearly not the color the Gods had given him, wretched pale worm
that he was.

The manner in which he stared at the stars,
the care he took in mixing his medicines, and the way in which he
kept his distance all told of secrets that left gruesome marks upon
his soul.

Miraj was scolded for seeking him out as often
as she did; mostly by the man himself than other Hikari, the people
of her tribe.

They reached a silent truce of sorts, one
where, if she kept her distance and her questions to a minimum, the
medicine man would allow her to watch him work.

In his tent of hide and reeds, she studied the
herbs hanging out to dry from the ceiling tent-poles. In the gaps
of this hanging garden were bottles and pipes she'd seen him get
through trade. He spoke in hushed tones to the desert merchants who
came to stock up on wares; salves made by the Hikari doctor were
deemed to be particularly valuable, though no one but these traders
seemed to know why.

Miraj yawned loudly.

"
Marvin'assi
," she said, using an
honorific reserved for respected adults. "I'm
bored."

He examined the liquid within two
beakers.

"So go outside and play."

"Only children do that."

"You are a child."

"How rude!" Miraj scoffed. "I'm fourteen
summers this year! Old enough to choose myself a
husband!"

"Ahh." His tone smiled while his face remained
an impressive deadpan. "Such a grave decision to make. Then, as
advice from a worldly adult, go flirt and see who you like
best."

Miraj crossed her arms. "I like who I like,
and I hate who I hate."

"Surely you must like one."

"Not really." She swung her legs back and
forth over the edge of one of his work stations. Marvin swatted her
knees with a branch to keep them still as he walked by. "They're
boring. Horses! Battle! These are all they think about. And
breasts," she added as an afterthought.

Marvin sputtered his tea back into its
cup.

"You know Lekai?" she mentioned. "The one who
gives you supplies each week? He tried to kiss me in the fields
while we were watering horses. The nerve!"

"Tried to?" Marvin asked. "You told him no,
correct?"

"I did more than that!" said Miraj, rolling up
her sleeves. "I punched his face in! But now the women all give me
mean looks and say I was at fault. ME."

Marvin ran a hand through his pitch-black
hair, sighing, "How long ago did this happen?"

"A week," Miraj mumbled. "His face healed fine
-his nose is still as big as always- but he mopes around like a
rusalka went and sucked his soul out at the river." Miraj sucked in
her cheeks, imitating a drowned water spirit.

This brought about a different response from
Marvin than usual. He actually looked at her directly, allowing
Miraj to see that his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Is that what you think rusalki look like?" he
asked, faintly amused.

"Bah. What does it matter?" Miraj demanded,
feeling self-conscious. "So what do you think is Lekai's problem?
He's trying to ruin my standing in the tribe."

Marvin put away his beakers and glasses for
the day, shaking his head at her antics.

"He's not trying to ruin you, Miraj'a," he
said, using the diminutive form of her name. Miraj was prepared to
argue with him over that alone as it was used for children -and she
was not a child. "He was rejected by the girl he likes. Lekai is
recovering from a broken heart."

Miraj cocked her head to the side. "Broken
heart?"

"Right." Marvin scratched his head. "I forgot
that isn't a common term among the Hikari... A part of Lekai died
when you rejected his feelings."

"That's not my fault."

"No, but
punching his face in
is," Marvin
stressed, eying her so she finally looked away in
shame.

"That makes no sense," Miraj said, thinking
about the explanation she'd been given. "It's not possible to die
and be alive still."

Again, Marvin gave her a look, mocking her for
something he knew and refused to tell her.

"Miraj'a, I hope the day never comes when you
learn what that means." He set a hand on her head, and again used
that frustrating half-smile in front of her. "May you never know
what it's like to love a one-sided love."

"Love has nothing to do with
being dead!" she fumed, still stuck on Marvin's poor reasoning.
"You're either dead or you're alive. There's no
parts of you
dead nonsense. Put it
another way or I'm telling everyone you're not really a
doctor."

Marvin raised an eyebrow, set a finger to his
chin, and thought.

"An arrow leaves a wound different from an axe
or club," he began. "Love is a lot like that. It's just a different
kind of deadly."

THE END

 

 

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