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?
I knew it was the girl. I couldn't leave her alone with Rhorken. She was too frightened and somehow I made her feel a little less scared. My desire to protect her was inexplicable, but it persisted nonetheless.
An hour later, I returned to camp to find Rhorken had unloaded three sleeping pads and collected a pile of limbs to fuel the rather large fire he'd made. I set down the rabbits I'd caught-rather proud that there were three-and began to clean the first with the knife at my hip.
It was a simple enough process, with practice. A few shallow cuts just under the fur, a slice here and there where the skin refused to release from the body, and I had a skinned rabbit proudly displayed in my hands. I set aside the pelt when I was done. She would need warmer clothes, if she was going to make it all the way to our destination-wherever that was-so it was best to start a collection of furs.
"That's quite a skill you have." Rhorken commented, but I didn't know if he referred to the ease with which I cleaned the carcass or the number I'd managed to catch.
"My father taught me," I replied, and pulled a limb from Rhorken's pile. They weren't the best of spits, but I made due and set the clean carcass to hang just above the flames. I realized then that Rhorken was alone.
"Where is she?" I asked tensely. My shoulders pressed back and my fists tightened-If anything happened to her-prepared for whatever action I might need to take in the next few seconds.
"Still on the cart, boy. Calm down." His lips almost seemed to curve into a smile, but maybe it was just my imagination.
I let it go, pulled the rag out of my pocket, and wiped the blood off my hands. I hurried over to the cart and, true to his word, she was there. Her eyes opened immediately, her gaze falling upon my outstretched hand, and I gently helped her to the ground. She barely came up to my shoulders, though I found myself amazed that she could stand at all on her narrow legs and ankles.
"You should warm up and get something to eat. There's rabbit cooking on the fire." I caught them for you.
She walked with me to the fire, sat down on one of the two empty sleeping pads, and waited. She was in desperate need of a good meal, and it pleased me to see that her posture relaxed in the warmth of the fire. Her eyes glazed as she stared at the meat above the flames, and she swallowed in anticipation.
"Remind me to get you to fetch her from now on." I smiled at the thought of Rhorken struggling with her. It didn't surprise me that she was less intimidated by my small, thin body than she was by Rhorken's massive frame.
While Rhorken rotated the spits beside the fire, I noticed a copper bracelet on his wrist, carved with detail. Lagodonian men never wore jewelry, but perhaps that was more because they couldn't afford it. Father's ring was one of the only pieces I'd seen. On reflex, my hand fell to the pocket where I'd placed it only that morning. I need to find a safe place to keep this until my fingers are big enough to wear it.
"Where are we?" I asked in the quiet; I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get some answers.
"Somewhere south of Tilia. We'll reach it within an hour or two tomorrow." That's why he waited so long to make camp. He must have hoped we'd reach the village so we could stay at its inn. He hadn't intended to camp out at all.
"Will you take others from the village?"
"Perhaps. Depends on the children." I glanced over at the girl and wondered what the two of us had in common. Aside from our malnutrition and general, soiled appearance, we were as different as two children could be. Maybe the desperation of our parents?
"Why did you select us?"
"You chose to come, as did the girl. She had no one else. You came to save your mother." Sure I did. I was racked with shame, not because I had made the wrong decision, but because I knew I had done it for a poor reason. I should have been focused on my mother, on helping her to stay alive, but instead I focused on myself, my stomach, and my future.
For the girl, it troubled me to think she'd been completely alone. No parents? No siblings? No one? I, on the other hand, would hopefully have two happy, healthy parents thanks to Rhorken's payment, even if I didn't know if I would ever see them again.
"But why me? Why not one of the others?"
Without pretense or hesitation, he replied, "You have the Spark."
What?
With his shimmering pendant in his hand, he continued. "It goes like this. Everyone in the world has a Spark, a light inside them that guides them, keeps them alive. But some people have Sparks that are bigger-or brighter. Their Sparks help them to catch fish, control water, or manipulate fire."
I sat in silence and thought of what he said. Was it a tall tale? He looked like he believed it. How could Rhorken see my Spark when I didn't even know it was there? What exactly is it, for that matter?
My adolescent mind raced thinking of all the possibilities. Could I make it rain during a drought? Could I manipulate the wind? Certainly I didn't have any kind of abilities in terms of fishing or, if I did, it would surely be wasted, courtesy of my repulsion of the practice.
By the time my brain slowed down, Rhorken handed me a leg and gave another to the girl. I bit into it, surprised by my own hunger. I hadn't eaten any meat besides fish in weeks, and the goose had been left behind. It seemed like a long time ago.
Juice ran down my chin, and I picked every morsel of meat off the bone. It was the largest meal I had ever eaten in one sitting. Warm, fed, and free; I was content. A boy can't ask for much more than that.