The mat rustled as he pulled out the leather pouch. She smelled spices and fish. “There’s some salt fish here, a few hard biscuits and … by the feel of it, fruit. What do you want?”
“I’ll try a little of everything,” The two chewed in silence, sharing small sips of water. The fruit was odd stuff. Sweet and tart, it clung stubbornly to the pit and stuck in her teeth. And she didn’t know what kind of grain they used to make the bread, but it certainly wasn’t wheat, or rye, or oats, or anything else she was familiar with.
“We ought to save the rest. Better to have little now than nothing later.”
Senna’s stomach disagreed, but she didn’t voice its complaints. She sang softly to herself for a while. Then, lying on her side, she drew up her knees and rested her forehead on them. “What are we going to do if Kaen doesn’t come back for us?”
Though she wasn’t looking at him, she was familiar enough with Joshen’s idiosyncrasies to know his lips were drawn together. “Well, we can’t stay here forever. Could you move the rock with one of your plants?”
Senna tried to peer around the rock. “If I could get one of the plants outside to cooperate.”
“If not, I could probably push it back, but we’ll deal with that if and when the time comes.”
“Why does he even have this tunnel? And why does he speak Nefalien?” she asked.
Joshen shifted to his back. “We’re obviously not the first people he’s hidden. How we were lucky enough to find someone who knew about him, I’ve no idea.”
“Do you really think he’s trying to help us?”
“Do you?”
Senna thought about it. “Yes. His actions were nothing like a man who wanted to do us harm. What—”
Joshen clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her to him. At first, Senna heard nothing, but then … a slight shuffling beyond the rock. It might be an animal, it might not. Either way, she remained motionless, barely breathing. The shuffling stopped in front of them. Joshen groped for his gunpowder as she reached inside her seed belt.
The rock shifted. Clumps of mud rained down on them. Light blinded her. Blinking, Senna blocked the light with her hand. Half-crouched, Joshen held his musket like a club.
“All right below?” a voice asked.
Through her watering eyes, Senna managed to make out Kaen’s face.
“We’re fine,” Joshen replied.
“Can you help me with this?”
Joshen handed his musket to Senna and gripped the rock. Both of them managed to push it back. Joshen hopped out and helped Senna out of the hole. Stretching her cramped muscles, she shook the dirt from her borrowed clothes.
“Earlier,” Joshen asked Kaen, “you said the soldiers were searching for Senna?”
Kaen huffed. “Chancellor Grendi’s been secretly rounding up Witches for years. Recently, it hasn’t been so secret. Divisions have been patrolling the roads and offering rewards for Senna’s capture for over a week. My Witch friends and I have been on the alert, hoping to find you first, but we haven’t the resources or numbers of the army.”
“By friends you mean sympathizers?” Joshen asked.
Kaen nodded.
Joshen glanced protectively toward her. “How did they know we were coming?”
Kaen shrugged. “Spies? Fortune tellers? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we keep her safe.” He handed them two packs in exchange for the old bag. “Come. This way.”
Joshen trotted to catch up. “How do you plan to keep her safe?”
“We’ve an underground network for those who manage to draw Grendi’s notice. We’ll help you escape Tarten.” Kaen grunted as he worked through the jungle in an irregular, almost serpentine way. He carried a weapon that was half sword, half knife. It was curved on one side. Kaen caught her looking at it. “Machete.”
Senna crossed her arms and planted her feet. “I’m not trying to escape. I’m trying to find Espen.”
Kaen stopped dead and whirled to face her. “Espen? The Witch? She’s been an enemy of the Keepers for years—even Grendi’s afraid of her. What happens when she traps you like the others? Who’ll stop her from wreaking havoc on nature then?”
Senna shook her head. “You don’t understand. I cannot counteract the effects of her songs. I can only moderate them—barely. The longer I hide, the more damage she’ll inflict.”
Kaen slowly shook his head. “Even if you do manage to free them, you’ll never get out of Tarten—not with that big a group.”
Senna pursed her lips. “I can’t worry about that now.”
Kaen rubbed his temples as if he had a bad headache. “What can you do that the others haven’t?”
Senna held his gaze.
After a long silence, he sighed and headed in a different direction. “For years, I’ve helped others escape from Grendi and Espen. Now I’ll be taking our last hope into her clutches. I hope I’m not wrong.”
Senna looked away. She hoped he wasn’t wrong either.
22. JUNGLE OF DARKNESS
The memory of Senna’s last encounter with the soldiers still heavy on her mind, she parted the dense foliage. Fingers of dread lifting the hairs on the back of her neck, she searched the road for signs of soldier red. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a magnificent, white city working up the mountain like a vine growing up a lattice. Kaen pressed his fingers to his lips. She already knew they must be silent.
Kaen dropped his pack. “This is Shiok. I’ve a well connected contact inside. But I need to check for soldiers first. If they are here, we’ll move on to the next city. Wait here.” He inched forward and then waited for a lull in foot traffic before walking out.
Senna and Joshen hid behind a large fern. Her back against a tree, she rubbed a knot in her neck.
“You alright?” Joshen asked.
Her eyes closed, she nodded. “Just a kink from carrying the pack. You?”
He squatted behind her and began rubbing her neck. “We’re alive, so I’m not complaining.”
Senna’s fatigue vanished. She felt warm and tingly all over. “How did the soldiers know we were coming?”
Joshen grunted. “Probably the same way Garg and Wardof always manage to escape. They’ve got to be communicating with Espen somehow.”
Senna hunched over as her muscles finally began to unkink. “Across the ocean? Is that even possible?”
Shaking out his hands, Joshen slumped next to her. “There’s no way the sailors from the Gallant Green reached Tarten’s shore before us. Yet the soldiers seemed to know where we would come ashore. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Refusing to worry, Senna laid her head on his shoulder.
She woke when Joshen shook her. Kaen squatted beside them. “Come on. No soldiers this morning.”
Senna paused at the edge of the jungle. The last time she’d left the safety of the shadows for the unknown had been on the road to Perchance. This was a different city on a different continent, but it felt the same—foreign and overwhelming.
Joshen looked back at her, his gaze taking in things she’d rather he didn’t know. He held out his hand. “I’m here.”
With a steadying breath, she took it and stepped forward.
Kaen said under his breath, “No matter what happens, neither one of you says a word. Understand?”
Senna and Joshen nodded. Kaen lowered his head like a bull about to charge and strode forward.
Senna had to trot to keep up with the with two men’s long strides. The foot traffic increased the closer they came to the city. As she had done for most of her life, she kept her head down and concentrated on being invisible. If anyone appeared in her path, she ducked out of their way.
Joshen glanced at her with disapproval. “They should be getting out of your way.”
Senna didn’t respond and she was grateful he did not press it.
Woven into the jungle that surrounded the city were reed houses with palm leaves for roofs. People trudged through their mundane task
s with hollow eyes and sagging clothes. At the base of the mountain, Senna’s steps shortened considerably as they wound up the steep, curving road. It wasn’t long before she realized that Shiok was also by the sea.
Eventually, reed walls and palm roofs were replaced with white plaster and tile. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, the road turned into steps and the plaster walls were replaced with white stone mansions encased by high walls—the inside of which could have swallowed a dozen reed huts with room to spare. Despite her efforts not to, Senna found herself staring in awe.
She was shocked when Kaen opened the side gate of one of these houses and slipped into the courtyard. Her hand feeling sweaty inside Joshen’s, Senna followed. Ignoring the front entrance, Kaen made his way to the back and opened the door without any pretense. Surrounded by elaborate pillows, a table no higher than her ankle was draped with food. Restlessly, she waited for someone to appear and banish them from the house. But there wasn’t a soul in sight. “Eat quickly,” Kaen ordered as he sat on one of the cushions.
Her stomach growled in agreement. Trying not to dirty the pillow, she sat down gingerly. She stared at the food laid out before her. A spicy, golden soup; flat, round bread; and a bowl filled with an odd mixture of fruits and meats. She looked around for a spoon. Kaen picked up his bowl and started to sip. She blinked. Tartens didn’t use spoons?
Following his example, she picked up the bowl and swallowed a mouthful. Creamy, with a mild but spicy taste. It had gone cold. Still, sweat broke across her upper lip. She coughed and looked at Joshen.
His eyes widened with his first taste. “This is good.” With a grin, he took several gulps.
Raising the bowl, she took another tentative taste. If she sipped, the spiciness was bearable. But when she stopped, her mouth burned. The sweat above her lip spread to her forehead. Taking one last swallow, she set the bowl aside and studied the meat and fruit mixture and circular bread. Without any utensils, what was she to do with it?
Kaen must have noticed her hesitation. He tore the circular bread into wedges and used them to scoop up his fruit and meat. “Hun’eden. It means ‘bread spoon.’”
She carefully tore the bread and pushed it into the mixture. When she tried to take a bite, the bread collapsed, covering her chin with sauce. Her face burned with embarrassment.
Joshen didn’t have better luck. But he didn’t seem to care. Licking his fingers with relish, he lifted his bowl to his mouth and stuffed the bread back into the mixture. “This might be the best meal I’ve ever had.”
“That’s because you can eat with your fingers,” Senna grumbled.
Joshen laughed. “You’re probably right.”
Kaen cleared his throat. “Hold the bowl under your mouth.”
Doing as instructed, she took a tentative bite. Tang hit first, followed by a sharp sweet. A squishy fruit flooded her mouth with juice. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she rolled the strange combination on her tongue. Already on his second spoon bread, Joshen watched her reaction with amusement, “Good, isn’t it?”
She shook her head as she took another bite. “It’s delicious, but so odd! Meat served with fruit?” In Nefalie, meat was seasoned with salt, herbs and vegetables. Never had she eaten sweetened meat.
Joshen tipped the bowl and used his bread to scrape the remainder into his mouth. “I know. Why Mother never thought of it, I can’t understand.” He filled another bowl and devoured it.
“More?” Kaen asked.
The thought of trying either dish again made her lip curl. She shook her head. Joshen leaned back, rubbing his belly. “If only I could find the room.”
Kaen shook his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Come with me.” He lead them up a beautiful set of stairs to a covered patio, within which was a tiny lake enclosed by stone. “Senna, if you’d like, you may bathe.”
Senna gaped at the stone lake. “That’s a bathtub?”
“Yes.” He pointed to a small table, upon which sat an enormous towel and various types of soaps.
Too amazed to do anything else, she nodded.
“Joshen, if you’ll come with me.”
They disappeared, leaving Senna alone. Self-consciously, she studied the large, airy space. She stripped her clothes, but she hesitated before entering the bath. It was large enough for six or seven women. Bending down, she skimmed her fingers across the top. “Cleaner than well water,” she murmured.
Holding her breath, she dropped in. It was cool, but not cold and a very pretty blue. It felt so strange to bathe in something so large. As she used the soap, the brown paste ran down her skin in rivulets. She felt guilty that it stained the pretty water. Her body ached to relax and enjoy the coolness after the sticky heat of the jungle. But she hurried, afraid the men would return before she could finish.
She was so paranoid that she nearly jumped out of her skin when a dark-skinned woman rushed in. An outrageous purple tunic with an overlay of gold gauze flitted about her like adoring butterflies. She was easily the most beautiful, exotic woman Senna had ever seen. And young. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Senna.
She smiled easily. “I’m sorry, did I frighten you?”
Shielding herself against the bathtub wall, Senna stammered, “That’s—that’s alright.”
“My name is Ciara. I had thought to join you, but I had things to see to. You understand, of course?” Senna nodded. “Well, are you almost finished then?” Senna nodded again. “Very well. Come out and I’ll help you dress.”
Senna swallowed hard. “Help me?”
Ciara gripped a wide towel, a look of amusement on her beautiful face. “Well, I know maids usually do that sort of thing, but I can’t have them finding out about my little hobby, can I?” She laughed before she grasped Senna’s hand and pulled.
Afraid to offend her, Senna allowed herself to be hauled out of the water. But instead of wrapping the towel around her, Ciara vigorously rubbed Senna’s hair and skin.
Senna gaped, her body frozen between wanting to run and shoving the woman away. After running the towel through her hair once more, Ciara threw it aside and headed for a different door. “Come, dear one, we mustn’t delay.”
Senna snatched the towel and held it to her chest. “But I’m not dressed!”
Ciara turned, surprise written across her features. “Well, you’re not chilled are you? I thought it was rather warm, but perhaps …” She trailed off and then her eyes widened. “Oh, you’re ashamed of being naked?”
Senna managed a miserable nod.
The woman’s brow creased. “Even in front of other women?”
Senna nodded again.
Ciara sighed in exasperation. “My room is just inside. There are clothes for you there.” She tsked as she pulled out a pretty, well-made tunic. “In Tarten, all women bathe together, as do the men. I’m sure that’s what Joshen and Kaen are doing now. And to think,” she chuckled, “I worried you’d be offended because I didn’t join you.”
Just as Valicia had, Ciara helped Senna dress in a tunic that rivaled her own. “I’m afraid this is fairly elaborate traveling garb, but the soldiers are looking for a Nefalien man and woman dressed as Boors, so Class clothing should elevate you beyond suspicion. It will also give reason for your silence. Class women are not encouraged to speak to Boors or Middlings—that includes soldiers. In addition, the soldiers believe you’re moving away from Espen’s realm, not toward it. You should make it through fine.”
Senna was fairly certain Ciara was speaking Nefalien, so why couldn’t she understand a word she’d said? Judging by the pounding going on outside, it was raining again. “Where are my clothes?” she asked miserably
Ciara directed Senna to an elaborate cushion. “Your Witch ones or the Boor ones Kaen brought with him?”
“The Witch ones.”
Ciara poured a viscous, brown liquid on her hands and rubbed it into Senna’s skin. “My brother probably has them with him somewhere. It wouldn’t do for you
to carry a Witch’s garb. If the soldiers decided to search women’s packs, as I’m sure they will, it would certainly be found.”
“Your brother?”
The woman smiled as she lined Senna’s eyebrows and eyes with a darkened stick. “Yes. Kaen and I are brother and sister.”
Senna couldn’t understand how this woman and Kaen could be related; the meager two-room, dirt floor farm hut seemed little better than a chicken coop compared to this.
Guessing Senna’s thoughts, Ciara grunted. “He had a great deal more than I before the government began to suspect him. They could never prove his involvement with Witch friends, but they ruined Kaen financially anyway.” She sighed and styled Senna’s hair in an elaborate cloth that hid its color. “With the Council watching him, the danger he’s placing his family in … Well, I suppose if he has to go into deeper hiding, I could care for his wife and children here. Valicia made a very public show of disapproval to throw off any suspicion. Everyone still believes she never knew of his involvement.”
Ciara smiled broadly. “We can both be pretty good actresses when we need to!” She laughed at her own joke before growing serious again. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about your eyes, but it’s not unheard of for a Tarten woman to have something other than brown eyes.” She looked Senna up and down before nodding. “You’re a very pretty girl. Not one of the great beauties, perhaps, but a fair thing nonetheless. That could work to your advantage, you know.”
Senna blushed furiously before looking away.
Ciara laughed, a tinkling sound like water over crystals. She threw open her door and flowed out. From a distance, Senna followed the woman into a broad room. Senna halted and stared at Joshen as he stared back. He smiled. “Tarten nobility?”
Senna blushed and was glad no one could see it under her new skin color.
Ciara placed a dainty hand on Kaen’s shoulder. “Come, big brother, I must throw you out now.”
Kaen smiled ruefully. “Do make a good show of it, dear sister.”
Ciara’s happy demeanor evaporated. She began screeching in Tarten. Kaen grunted in amusement before his face contorted into equal amounts rage and desperation. Their shouting match moved to the kitchen, where Kaen shoved armloads of food into his pack. With a wink to Joshen and Senna, he exited the back door just as the dripping servants began showing up.