Ordadus [2.4]

They crept as close as they could. Brett tried to mimic Arena’s footsteps, rolling his feet from ankle to toe, but he continued to step on snapping twigs and crumbling leaves no matter how hard he tried. He put the blame on his shoes, durable and dusty leather carpenter shoes, and not so much his skill, because Arena was wearing light moccasin boots and she crept along as quietly as an Indian in an old west film. If what Arena said was true, that his Earth days were over, Brett planned to get himself a pair of those shoes.

Crouching behind a boulder, Brett’s eyes adjusted readily to the flickering light that came from a torch at the gate. He could see the guard Tanyenke quite well, who looked preoccupied and was studying something in his hands. He didn’t even look up until Arena was practically at the gate.

“Arena!” the man exclaimed. He tried to hide the thing in his hands behind his back but then realized it was hopeless and shrugged apologetically.

Arena coughed into her shoulder. “Tanyenke, what—” She coughed again, and her voice sounded suddenly dry and raspy. “How did you get that?”

Tanyenke’s deep voice dropped low and Brett couldn’t hear exactly what his reply was, but he caught the end: “—couldn’t just leave him behind!”

“A furca or a bird is one thing, Tan,” Arena said, again sounding rather weak and sickly. “But a smilo kitten?”

“I know… Why aren’t you inside already?”

Arena coughed again. “I left my dagger on the trail and I went back to find it. You know the Reatohans - they’ll steal anything.”

“You don’t sound good. Is it the kitten?”

“No, no. I seem to have come down with something. Which reminds me. I don’t want Maiara in my room tonight. She might…” Arena started to sway and Tanyenke caught her arm with his free hand.

“I’ll take care of her,” he said immediately. “Don’t worry about it. You need rest.”

“Thank you,” Arena said, wearily.

Brett saw a glimpse of the fluffy smilo kitten as Tanyenke gently shifted it to his other hand, then said, “I’ll be right back to help you to your room, okay?” His face was creased in worry.

Arena straightened up a little. “That’ll be alright. I wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything.”

He nodded reluctantly. “I’ll tell Nashoba you won’t be at the farm tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

He turned and disappeared behind the gate. Arena turned around immediately and waved at Brett to come.

Inside the gate, there was a small courtyard with recently abandoned cooking fires, their embers still red. The courtyard was fenced in on three sides by tall, sharpened logs, and the fourth side was a jagged wall of rock with a gaping black hole in the center. Arena grabbed Brett’s arm and led him into the darkness of the cave, took a sharp right, then pressed him up against a far wall.

“We’ll wait until we hear them go by, then we’ll go to my room,” Arena whispered.

Brett couldn’t see anything. He thought being outside on the mountain was dark, but this? He squinted around him and waited for his eyes to adjust, but even after a minute he was still absolutely blind to their surroundings. He couldn’t even see the bright white beads on Arena’s dress.

Tanyenke returned. Brett could hear the sound of his fingertips grazing the rock to feel his way through. Brett pressed himself closer to the wall, remembering what Arena had said about no one seeing him.

“Thank you again, Tanyenke,” Arena whispered.

“Of course,” he said.

“Arena!” a little girl’s voice exclaimed suddenly. “Tanyenke’s got a new pet—”

“Shhh!” Arena and Tanyenke said at the same time.

“Keep that to yourself, Maiara,” Arena whispered.

“Goodnight,” said Tanyenke, shuffling past.

Once they were far enough away, Arena grabbed Brett’s hand and led him through the cave. They had to climb up one rough wooden ladder and down another, and turned this way and that, past nearby snores and whispering breaths of other people, before they finally reached Arena’s room, which appeared to be nothing more than a sectioned-off space in the cave, partitioned by curtains of deerskin.

She led him to the little girl’s bed, which was nothing more than a thin pallet on the ground of corn husks and deer hide, with a bundle of deerskin for a pillow.

“Was that your daughter?” Brett asked.

“Please don’t talk, and no. But she can’t be with her parents so I’m her mother now.”

“Don’t talk?”

“No. Go to sleep. We’ll look at your wound tomorrow when everyone’s gone.”

Although Brett’s disoriented brain didn’t feel like drifting off to sleep, his body did. The adrenaline drained from his limbs and he dropped onto the tiny bed. It wasn’t comfortable and his legs stretched well beyond the corn husks and onto the cold rock, but he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.