“The waste here . . . I do not understand it,” Fennik said, frowning at the jugs. “They cannot be immune to the drought, can they?”
An old woman lurched out of a tent. She wore a headdress of bones and feathers that dangled down to her ankles. The bones clacked together as she moved. “You!” She leveled a crooked finger at Korbyn. “Bah! You again, pretty talker. You can change your face, but you can’t change your soul.”
Korbyn swept forward in a bow. “Runa, you are just as beautiful as you always were.”
“Humph. None for you today. Runa has standards, she does!” With that, Runa lurched back into her tent. The door flap smacked her on her wide rear.
“You can’t know her, can you?” Liyana asked. Once he was summoned, he’d come straight to Liyana from his clan. The old woman must have mistaken Korbyn for someone else.
“She was younger then. Same sunny personality.”
Fennik frowned at him. “Impossible. She would need to be . . .”
“One hundred sixteen years old, yes,” Korbyn said. “Mathematics are not your forte, are they? She always excelled at convincing magicians and deities to heal any ailments.” A smile danced on his lips. “It was fun being convinced.”
Pia sniffed. “Spare us the details of your lascivious youth.”
Liyana quit walking. “You didn’t! What about Bayla?”
He shrugged. “She was with Sendar. I was pining.” Eagerly he began climbing the slope toward the woman’s tent.
“Korbyn, we have a mission!” Liyana called after him.
“She’s the chieftess,” Korbyn said.
He swung the tent flap open. Liquid splashed him full in his face, and he staggered back. Liyana gasped. To waste liquid, be it water or liquor . . . An image of the wide-eyed child from the Silk Clan flashed through her mind.
Spitting, Korbyn wiped his face. “I’m honored I rate the quality refreshment, but you’ll wish you hadn’t wasted it.”
Runa stuck her head out of the tent. “Eh, I’ll lick it off you.” Cackling, she pointed at Liyana, Fennik, and Pia. “Oh, look at their faces! Don’t worry, children. My husband would have his testicles for trophies if we revisited old times.” She wagged her finger at Korbyn. “You watch yourself, my boy.”
Korbyn laughed, and his laughter echoed off the rocks. A few of the Scorpion Clan warriors stared at him. Others, sprawled by their tents, laughed with him.
“You always were a force to be reckoned with,” Korbyn said.
“You’d better believe it,” Runa said. “I hear you want our vessel. Go take her. We’re done with her.” She waved her hand toward the northern side of camp. “Fair warning, though—she’ll be less happy to see you than I am.” Smiling, Runa spat in Korbyn’s face.
Wiping his cheek and neck with his sleeve, Korbyn trotted down the slope back to them. “Believe it or not, I deserved that,” he said cheerfully.
Pia looked disgusted. “Water is life.”
“I think there are a few stories you haven’t told,” Liyana said. It seemed the safest thing to say. Korbyn whistled as he crossed through camp, aiming for the north corner. She shoved the image of Korbyn and that woman into the back of her brain. She had no right to feel . . . whatever it was she felt, even on behalf of Bayla.
Men and women were sprawled between the tents. A few whispered and pointed at them as they passed. Some laughed. Liyana tried to ignore them.
Korbyn climbed the rocks toward a lone tent perched precariously on a boulder. Liyana, Fennik, and Pia followed him. He held the tent flap up, and they all entered.
Inside was a young woman. Her telltale vessel tattoos were visible. She wore a sleeveless tunic that was stained with grease and blood. Near her was a heap of shredded silk and silver bells—her ceremonial dress, destroyed. Her hair flopped over half her face. Several thin braids were stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She snored loudly.
“This is she?” Fennik said.
“Is that her snore or a pig’s?” Pia asked, wrinkling her nose. “And what is that odor?” Liyana guessed it was the dried vomit in the corner, but it could have been the girl herself. Or both.
Korbyn nudged the girl’s leg with his toe. “Good morning!”
Groaning, the girl opened one eye. “Outta my tent.” She leveled a finger at each of them. “Don’t like you. Or you. Or you.”
“That’s okay,” Korbyn said cheerfully. “We probably won’t like you either.”
“She cannot be the vessel,” Fennik said.
Oh, goddess, it was going to take hours to coax this girl into sobriety, much less convince her to come with them. Liyana wanted to scream. Every day they encountered more delays! She thought of her family, facing day after day, believing that Bayla would never come, believing they were doomed. And this girl, this drunk, pathetic girl, was keeping Liyana from saving them.
“Set me down, Fennik,” Pia said. “I want to go to her.” Fennik lowered her to the ground, and Pia felt her way across the room. She knelt next to the girl, and she patted her hand. “We’ll find your goddess. Everything will be okay.”
The girl bit Pia’s hand.
Yelping, Pia snatched her hand back and cradled it to her chest. Fennik rushed to her and wrapped his arms around Pia’s shoulders.
The girl giggled.
“What’s your name?” Korbyn asked.
“Raan. Raan, Raan, Raan. Rrrrrrr-aaaaaaa-nnnnnnn, ra-ra-ra-ra . . .” She swirled her fingers in the air as if she were conducting music. “Na-na-na-na . . .”
“Sober her up faster,” Liyana said to Korbyn. “We can’t talk to her like this.” Liyana had once seen one of the herder boys in this state. It had taken him hours to be coherent. Aunt Sabisa had dumped a pitcher of precious water on his head.
Korbyn knelt next to her. “Don’t bite. I bite back.”
Giggling, the girl Raan gnashed her teeth together.
Laying his hand on her shoulder, Korbyn concentrated. Over the course of a minute, the girl’s face flushed and then paled into a sickly green and then settled in the normal range. Liyana noticed she had nice brown eyes, now that they weren’t dilated. In fact, she was beautiful, if you discounted the disheveled hair and stained clothes.
“Do you feel better, Raan?” Pia asked solicitously.
Raan scowled at them. “What did you do?” She searched through the piles of blankets that had been tossed around her tent. “Aha!” She displayed a waterskin as if it were a trophy.
Korbyn intercepted it and tossed it across the tent. “You’re done celebrating.”
“But it’s a new era! We are free!” Scrambling across the tent, she fetched the waterskin, took off the cap, and lifted it to her lips. Crossing the tent in three strides, Korbyn covered the opening with his hand. “Aw, don’t let it go to waste,” Raan said. “Once the drink is gone, it’s gone. This is the last of it. Can’t make more without a miracle.” She seemed to find this amusing. “Come on. Half the clan is celebrating with me.”
“And the other half?” Pia asked, distaste clear in her voice.
Raan shrugged. “Drowning their sorrows. They didn’t like me much anyway.”
“I cannot imagine why not,” Liyana muttered. She crossed her arms. All the time to journey here, and this was what had waited for them. This girl would be a greater drain on Korbyn than Pia was. At least Pia tried.
Raan pointed at her. “I heard that. Who are you people and what are you doing in my tent? Did Runa tell you where to find me? I shouldn’t have punched her.”
“You
“You’re a judgmental little thing, aren’t you?” Raan said. “Do I enter your tent without an invitation and ruin
Pia clenched her delicate hands into tiny fists. “You disgust—”
“Enough,” Korbyn said.
