The Last of the Wilds

politics and favor. Anything could change.

Then there’s only one thing I can do, she decided. Make sure I give him no reason to want me gone.

15

The cave was dark when Mirar woke. Only a faint light was visible at the entrance. Emerahl usually woke earlier than he did and ventured outside to empty the buckets and bring in fresh water. He could not hear her breathing, so he guessed she had gone. Creating a spark of light, he strengthened it until the whole cave was illuminated.

Emerahl was still in bed.

At once he remembered. She was in the process of changing her age. He got up and moved over to her bed.

He could only see her face, but it showed subtle signs of change. Skin that had been fresh and firm with youth now hung slightly looser on her cheekbones. The faintest lines had formed around her eyes and mouth. Strands of hair had fallen out, forming a golden coating on the rough mattress she had made.

He picked up a few strands. There were stripes of variation along the first hand span of its length. Successive dying, he guessed. Weaker each time. Why would she have dyed her hair?

She said she had been an old woman before this, Leiard reminded him. Her hair could have been white. It must have stayed that way, despite the rest of her body changing to a more youthful form, but from then on it grew in her natural color.

Yes, Mirar agreed. He looked at the strand. She must have dyed the white, first with cheap pigment then with better dye that that brothel provided.

The brothel. He sighed and shook his head. She was so Gifted. Why must she resort to selling herself whenever she needed to hide?

Because she had no choice, Leiard said.

Of course she had a choice. Mirar scowled. She could have become a washer- woman or a fish-sealer.

The priests would have looked over all women’s trades that an old crone might take up. By practicing a trade only young women could practice she could be sure she would never be examined by a priest.

It made sense, but Mirar didn’t like it. The risk of discovery must have been small. Only one priest had been given the ability to read minds by the gods.

She didn’t know that, Leiard reminded him.

Mirar almost wished he hadn’t told her that the gods did not make a habit of giving priests that Gift. Now that Emerahl knew she was safe she wanted to roam about the world in search of other Wilds. He looked at her and felt a stab of concern.

I should go with her, he thought.

You can’t, Leiard pointed out. There’s a greater risk that I’ll be recognized than her. I’d only put us all in danger.

Mirar nodded in agreement. Even in sleep there was a strength in her expression. Or perhaps he only imagined that. She’ll be fine. I doubt she’s suddenly become a risk-taker, he told himself. No, she’ll be as cautious as she has always been. He sighed and looked away. And me? I’m supposed to seek out people in order to cure myself. How foolish is that?

Perhaps not overly foolish. He would seek out the Siyee - or most likely linger here until they found him.

What excuse will I give them for coming here? he asked himself. Why would a Dreamweaver come to Si?

To offer healing services, of course, Leiard replied.

Healing was what he had always done best. Even as a child he’d had an unusual understanding of healing. Years of study and work had refined the Gift. Each time he had thought he had reached the limits of his powers something caused him to stretch himself further and he discovered he could do more. One day it had all culminated in a sudden flash of understanding in which he comprehended how his body might be sustained in a healthy, youthful state indefinitely.

It had been the moment he had achieved immortality. Emerahl, too, had come to the same understanding. She did not have the intuitive aptitude with healing that he had. Instead, her innate Gift was this ability to change her age.

And the other Wilds? He thought of the extraordinary people who had once roamed free in the world. The Farmer had been famous for his understanding of growing and raising crops, stock and all manner of produce. His innate Gift had probably related to that somehow. The Seer’s ability had been to predict a person’s probable path in life, though she had admitted to Mirar once that she did not see the future, she just saw the nature of mortals too well.

The Gull had understood everything to do with the sea. He could find shoals of fish, warn against storms and was rumored to be able to change the weather to a limited degree. The Twins... Mirar had never been entirely sure what their abilities were. He had never met them, but someone had once told him they understood the duality of everything in the world, that they perceived connections and balances where nobody else could.

Where the magic was in that talent, he didn’t know. Most likely he would never find out. They had probably been killed a century ago, when the Circle of Gods had decided to tidy up their new world.

The gods are probably the only beings that know, he thought.

You could ask them, Leiard suggested.

He chuckled. Even if calling on them wasn’t likely to result in our death, I doubt we could trust their answer.

He looked at Emerahl again. She hadn’t moved while he’d been watching her, except to breathe. The rise and fall of her chest was so slow he had to watch patiently to see the change.

I’ll miss her. He frowned, surprised at the wistful emotion that came with the thought. It was not that he didn’t expect to feel this way, just that it was stronger than he had anticipated.

You didn’t feel like this about her before? Leiard asked. Do you love her?

Mirar considered. He felt affection and concern. He would not like her to be harmed or feel pain. He enjoyed her company, had always enjoyed her physical company the few times they had been lovers - but he was still sure he did not feel anything like romantic love. Emerahl was a friend.

Yes. You have missed the company of an equal.

Perhaps I have, he conceded.

Looking away, he considered the cave. He was hungry. She had told him there was enough food to last him for the few days she would be changing. It was mostly nuts, fresh and dried fruit, some dried meat and a few tubers.

Hardly inspiring fare, he thought. He glanced at the cave entrance, thinking of the shrimmi she had caught and cooked once before. I think it’s time I saw a little daylight. If the Siyee fly past and see me, so be it. I doubt they’ll be any danger to Emerahl. To be sure I’ll tell them she has already left. I don’t think I need to stay in here every moment of the next few days. Perhaps I can find her something decent to eat when she wakes up.

Picking up the bucket she had used when collecting food, he started toward the tunnel and daylight.

Erra considered the strange child curled up on the deck. She was completely hairless as far as he could see. Between the fingers and toes of her enormous hands and feet was a thick webbing. Her skin was unnaturally dark - a bluish black. It had been glossy yesterday, but now it looked dull.

“She bring trouble,” Kanyer warned. “She child. Adults come for her. Slit our throats in our sleep.”