Sparks (2 page)

As if they saw a ghost, the villagers parted a wide circle around him until he stood in front of me and just stared. For the first time in ages, I couldn’t get a glimpse–not a thought or emotion. Nothing.

Finally, the man spoke, his voice kinder than I would have thought. “Do you know who I am, boy?”

“I’m not a boy.” A squeeze on my shoulder reminded me of the manners my mother had insisted upon. “I mean–No, sir. I don’t know you.”

“My name is Rhorken. I’m a Tracer from Hubli. Do you know where that is?” As he spoke, he leaned over so his eyes were level with mine; I felt even more like a child.
Why can’t I hear his thoughts?

“Of course. It used to be the capital.”

Since the wars, Hubli had been demoted from true capital of Madurai to its center of commerce and culture, now considered just another region of Takla Maya.

“How many summers do you have?” As he asked the question, a violet pendant on a thin chain swung loose from his shirt and dangled just in front of me. It shimmered a mystic hue, the image of a sun made of white stone inlayed within. I had never seen anything like it and struggled to keep from reaching out.

“F–Fourteen, sir.”

Rhorken stood and exchanged a knowing look with Father. I didn’t have to see their faces to understand what had happened.

I was leaving. I was leaving with Rhorken. I could stay if I wanted–no one would force me to go. But if I left, my mother could be saved. The last thought was the strangest. The strong emotion that tied him to my mother was enough to submerge any thoughts of trying to convince me to stay. He truly loved her; to him, my mother’s life was worth more than anything else.

This is my chance.
I would get out of Lagodon. I would hunt in woods with real game. I would live a life beyond mere survival.

In that moment, I hated myself. I was a monster, more focused on my growling stomach than my dying mother.
What is wrong with me?

“Would you like to leave this village, then?” The thoughts of the surrounding villagers clashed and clanged together, a chorus of cheers and questions, but they wouldn’t distract me. If my father wanted me to leave to save my mother, then I would do it. My heart beat loudly in my chest, but I managed to answer him.

“Yes, sir.”

Rhorken’s eyes widened and a thin smile crept across his face. For the last few months, I’d spent each day with other people’s thoughts and feelings in my head. I was unaccustomed to having to use their body language and facial features to tell what they were thinking. It unnerved me that this was the one time it seemed to fail.

I turned to face Father. He sank to his knees in front of me, his face fighting against the wave of sorrow he felt. He was grateful; it flooded out of him in droves and, though I felt a conflicting guilt that perhaps it hadn’t been for the right reason, I knew I’d made the right choice.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be alright.” I knew as I said it that it was true. Something called for me to go out into the world, to explore places my family had never dreamed of. It was just unfortunate that it had to happen under those circumstances.

“I love you Lark. Don’t forget what I told you.” I nodded and let him give me a strong, enduring hug that I was sure I would be able to feel for the rest of my life. I was grateful I didn’t have to face him, just so he wouldn’t see the drops at the corners of my eyes yet again.

As my father stood, I turned towards the man who called himself Rhorken. He didn’t say anything but just watched the exchange between us.

A long moment passed in silence. “Is there something wrong, sir?” I asked when he didn’t speak.

“No. Not at all. Come along.” Rhorken reached behind his back, unhooked a small leather bag from his belt, and handed it to my father. I knew it was full of coppers even before it reached Father’s hands.

I am so, so sorry.
The thought rang from my father’s head forcefully as he gazed at the money in his hand, and I wondered–for a moment–if the rest of the village could hear it. It was enough coin to buy food for years, but I knew he wouldn’t spend it on a single meal.

My father turned on his heel without saying goodbye, though I knew it wasn’t from lack of emotion. In fact, I knew it to be just the opposite. My parents both loved me greatly–of that I had no doubt–but their love for each other outweighed theirs for me. Their bond had always been that strong.

I had no choice but to follow behind the Tracer.
Am I a slave? Am I to be his charge?
It was strange to think that I had just been purchased from my parents.

An odd thought filled my head as we walked through the streets under the watchful gaze of the villagers:
You know things are bad when a father sells his son for coin to buy a bag of tea.
A moment later, another thought filled my head:
I’ll never see them again.
I don’t know why I’d thought it–or why I was so certain–but it threatened my resolve to leave and forced out the tears I’d held back.

I remembered feeling hopeless when we realized she’d caught the sickness–hopeless because we couldn’t get the medicine. But with the coins, he could, and I was the cost. I would miss them, but leaving meant saving Mother and my chance to see the world.

I felt a strange mixture of excitement for where that new course would lead me and a conflicted longing to run back home to my parents. They were the only life I had ever known, and I had no way to know what it would be like without them. But it was too late; I’d made my choice.

Micha

Nearly an hour later, Rhorken and I emerged near the river on the north side of the village.

In a clearing stood a sturdy cart, nearly empty aside from a few boxes of supplies in the corner, and two large horses tied in the shade of a tree. They were tall and fine; one was grey with a white mane while the other was a deep, woody brown. Rhorken was smart to keep them hidden from sight; just one of them would have sold for enough coin to feed us for a lifetime in Lagodon.

“Go on and get in. We’ll be on our way once I’m finished with the horses,” Rhorken said with a wave to the back of the cart. I walked around and stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed a girl huddled into one corner. A tiny, dirty, skinny thing–though I probably didn’t look much better. The soil seemed engrained into her skin, and her gauntness made it clear that she hadn’t been taken care of for a while. Children in Lagodon were often small and weak; barely half survived to adulthood, many being denied food from their starving parents.

I had seen her around the village, though I couldn’t recall her name or anything else about her. She had tangled blonde hair in a bird’s nest around her head. Her simple dress was worn and tattered, and her feet were bare. She sat with bony arms wrapped around sharp knees pulled tight to her chest as if she was afraid she might lose them. She looked worse than many I’d seen.

“I won’t hurt you,” I spoke softly. She didn’t respond but, rather, kept her eyes on me as I took seat in the cart across from her. I set my bow and quiver near my feet, well away from my hands, but the apprehension never left her eyes. “I’m Lark, what’s your name?” I tried again, but she ignored me. I didn’t want to frighten her any further than I already had, so I sat away from her, in the opposite corner, and packed myself in just as she had to make myself seem smaller.

“Alright, you two, we’re on our way. We won’t stop again until nightfall.” Without waiting for a reply, Rhorken flipped the reins and the horses lurched forward. The rocky ground that covered most of southwest Madurai provided a challengingly turbulent ride; I found myself clutched to the rail for most of the day, but the girl ignored the jostles as if she were used to them. Sometimes she closed her eyes and sometimes she stared right at me, watching, evaluating.

Along with Rhorken, I realized I couldn’t hear her thoughts, either, though that hardly prevented me from knowing her feelings. The heat of the sun, which had climbed above the trees, wasn’t enough to relieve her chills or her stiff posture, letting on well enough of how she felt. Still, it bothered me, and the fact that I’d become so reliant on that ability worried me further.

The sun sat perched in the noon-day sky when Rhorken tossed a tied-up fold of cloth to us. It held berries and hard cheese, quite a sight since I hadn’t had cheese in years. I gave most to the girl, who ate eagerly and swallowed hard. The small piece I kept for myself was an earthy indulgence I savored for as long as I could, feeling suddenly disconnected from my desperate life. When she finished, without so much as a word of thanks, she resumed her position against the rail, her eyes pinned on me.
Yet another thing I can’t figure out.

It upset me a bit; on the other hand, I felt as if I had complete mental silence, even with others present. My thoughts were my own, and I could take my time to think about what I wanted without everyone else’s bothersome thoughts to get in the way. It was quite peaceful.

Maybe that’s why I like to hunt.
It was a toss-up between the quiet of the woods and the total confidence in my skills; either way, I was made to be a hunter.

As we rode in silence, I couldn’t help but wonder where we were headed and think about what kind of game would be there. The gentle heat on my left shoulder told me we traveled north, but that took us farther from the Greenwood Road. Wherever we were going, the main road would have led us there; to go through the back trails made my mind whirl.

The evening chill began to set in, but Rhorken showed not the slightest intention to make camp. I hadn’t thought about it before, but ‘We won’t stop again until nightfall’ didn’t necessarily mean we would. In the crisp, autumn air, the small girl shook more than ever. Goose-prickles blossomed across her skin while her lips took on a pale shade of blue.

“Would you like my jacket?” It didn’t give much protection from the cold, but it was better than nothing, and I simply couldn’t stand how miserable she looked. She was half my weight, at best, and far more likely to fall sick; it was the least I could do. Unsurprisingly, I only received an apprehensive stare in return.

I understood that she wouldn’t speak, and that she’d be in serious danger if she didn’t conserve her body heat, so I acted. With one hand on the bouncing rail, I carefully shambled over; her wide, fearful eyes set me on edge just as much as my movement had for her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I tried to reassure her, but she didn’t seem in much of a listening mood.

To my amazement, she didn’t argue as I sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her stiff shoulders.
How could someone leave her in Rhorken’s care?
She looked like she weren’t fit to lift a loaf of bread–much less survive a tremulous journey on a supply cart.

By the time we lost the last colors of sunset, she was no longer a bony piece of wood beneath my arm. Instead, she sank into me and, before long, pressed herself close to my chest. She shivered, despite my added warmth, and I moved to wrap my jacket about her as best I could. I’d never had brothers or sisters, or even any friends, but I felt as protective of her as I imagined I would have been for any of them. It made me wonder what it feels like to be a person someone depends on–to be needed.

Several hours after dusk, the cart finally came to a stop in a grove of tall pine trees. I thought maybe the girl had fallen asleep; but as soon as I moved to wake her, however, I felt her hands clutch at the thin fabric of my shirt, a silent plea for me to stay.

I had never seen a person so frightened in all my short life. I desperately wanted to sit and protect her as long as she needed me, but the chill in the air was gnawing at my skin. Without a fire and some warm furs, we would both be frozen through by morning.

She released my shirt slowly, and I laid her back against the rail. I stood up quickly, worried if I hesitated even a moment, I might have decided to stay with her despite the cost.
The sooner we make camp, the better.

“What do you need help with?” I asked, nearing the front of the cart where Rhorken stood untying the horses.

“You’re a skilled hunter, I understand,” he said without even a glance toward me. “You think you can manage in the dark?” It was hardly dark; there was plenty of moonlight to guide me
. I can catch anything out here.

“What about the girl?” I asked.

“I’ll keep an eye out. Go on.”
That’s what worries me.

I grabbed my bow and quiver from the cart. I wanted to tell her I’d be back soon, that she needn’t worry, but she sat peacefully, with her eyes closed, and I didn’t want to disturb her.

Excitedly, I ran deeper into the Creekmont, enjoying my new sense of freedom. I’d been a prisoner in my own house to ease my father’s fears about the sickness, though, even before that, he’d never let me hunt at night–or alone.

The trees were more densely packed than I was accustomed to, which added to my exhilaration. They were taller, thicker, and the ground was strewn with pine needles and elm leaves. Large game thrived in those woods and, compared to the hard-packed soil near Lagodon, their trails were unmistakably clear. It made the fact that I could sense them virtually useless, as the skills Father had taught me were more than enough. I felt at home–more so than I had at home, even–and that made relish the hunt.

It wasn’t long before I sensed a hog; I moved toward it and caught it in my line of sight.
Wait
, I thought, and stopped myself. I was much too far from camp, and it was much too large for me to drag back by myself. Besides, I had no idea if Rhorken packed any salt, let alone enough to preserve the large beast. I lowered my bow, deciding that it would be better to hunt smaller game.

As I moved silently across the leaf litter, it occurred to me that I could leave. I could run home, back to my village. My parents would be there; Mother would be well because of the coins Rhorken paid for me. Of course, I wanted to see her again, if for no reason other than to settle my own mind about why I left. I was plenty capable of handling myself, and it would only take a few days on foot.
Why don’t I just go? What’s keeping me here?