Dave Smeds - The Sorcery Within

"The hole wasn't here until I walked by. The mountain must like to eat holy men."

Joren shifted to a boulder securely attached to one side of the opening, from which he could manage to peer within. The sun's angle favored him. He could see a dusty Zyraii in the grey robes of ahada Zee-no-ken, standing in the center of a near-perfect spherical chamber within the ground. It was hard to imagine what had made the cavity. Joren could only guess that the upheaval that had built the hills themselves had left a giant bubble within the rock, trapped until the Zee-no-ken's misfortune exposed it to the light of day. It was just a little too deep to allow the man to jump out. Moreover, the geometry of the chamber made scrambling out impossible.

"I don't suppose you have a rope with you?" the Zee-no-ken asked.

Naturally Joren had a rope; he wouldn't have gone wandering in the Snakeback Hills without one. Before long he had anchored it to the boulder and thrown the free end to the trapped man. Soon wiry, middle-aged hands emerged, followed by the gaunt, but obviously strong, figure of the priest.

"Thank you," the Zee-no-ken said. His robes were torn, exposing a pair of scrapes, but the vigor of his climb out and the ease with which he handed the rope back to Joren belied any serious injury.

"How long were you in there?"

"As of dawn, two days."

"Would you like some water?" Joren asked, noting that the other had none.

The man accepted the goatskin without hesitation, and drank one long, fulfilling swallow. He seemed entirely satisfied with that. As Joren knew, Zee-no-ken had control over their bodies in ways that mystified other human beings. Two days without water in this land often killed.

"I am Esidio. I am in your debt, Po-no-pha."

"I am Joren, war-leader of the T'lil. You're welcome."

Esidio seemed surprised. "I assumed you to be searching for a lost goat, but a man of your station would not do so. God must have designs to send such a rescuer."

"I would have no idea about that," Joren said. They prudently put a little more distance between themselves and the pit.

"Surely you're here for some reason?" Esidio smiled gently.

Joren paused long enough to coil his rope. Could it be that God had heard him? "I came seeking counsel with myself. My wife will soon give birth."

The priest had probably not seen a baby in decades, but he nodded understandingly. "Your first?"

"Yes, if all goes well. The other three times I have been given girls."

"Ah. Have you considered another wife?"

"She is my other wife."

"I see."

Joren nodded, and they sat down together to view God's Peak. Near midday the currents of the heat in the air made the mountain's contours shimmer, as if it were melting into the heavens.

"You don't seem at all disturbed that you might have starved to death in that hole," Joren wondered out loud.

"I was disturbed while I was in there. Now that I'm saved, it doesn't make any sense to fray my nerves worrying about what would have happened if you hadn't come along. I don't mean to seem indifferent. In fact, I would feel much better if there were a way I could express my gratitude."

"Well," Joren began. "I see you wear the grey…"

Esidio smiled paternally. "I know your mind, but your question would no doubt be answered simply by walking back to your camp. My talents can be of better use to you. Ask me a question whose answer means as much to you as my life did to me, then accounts will be squared. But have caution. If the Sight were straightforward, one such as I would not fall into holes in the ground."

"You're right. Give me a little time."

"No hurry. I hadn't planned on going anywhere today."

Joren struggled with opposing moods. On the one hand, he could hardly contain his eagerness. On the other, he worried that he might choose a frivolous query, or one whose reply would be indecipherable. To pass the time, he offered Esidio food from his pack. The Zee-no-ken readily accepted, selecting a modest quantity of dates, which he ate promptly, taking care to collect the seeds and return them to the pack. Rummaging further, he uttered a cry of delight.

"Locusts!" He held the open sack up and poured several of the salt-roasted insects out. "I had forgotten it was the swarm year. They haven't reached the hills yet."

Joren pressed the sack toward his companion. "Enjoy. Not quite the same as getting them hot from the fire, but good nonetheless."

"And coffee!" Esidio cried. Joren had to grin. Zee-no-ken were so different from the phlegmatic Ah-no-ken and Bo-no-ken. Though they were considered highest ranked among the priesthood, he had never yet encountered a Zee-no-ken who sought to conceal his emotions. "Let us take it to my camp. It's not far. I'll heat some water, and we will share a drink while you ponder."

"You seem poorly supplied. How is it that you survive up here?"

Esidio shrugged. "I have lived alone in these hills for twenty years, and it's never seemed hard to me. But I miss the things the land can't provide. I visit Setan so seldom."

They descended, Esidio instinctively selecting a path that taxed their endurance the least. Joren could see no trail. Though unhurried, the pace swallowed the distance. Before long they entered a gorge, steep slopes of rock rising on either side. Joren automatically checked the sky above the Ahrahikte to be sure no clouds hung there. They followed the stream bed deeper into the hills.

Finally Joren heard the trickle of water, a sound he found impossible to ignore. They rounded a bend, and in the shade on the south side in front of them, he saw a rivulet working its way down from far above, filling a tiny pool and diffusing into the cobbles downstream, where all sign of dampness quickly disappeared.

"Fill your waterskin," Esidio suggested.

Joren did so, cupping a handful and tasting it. He sighed. Unlike that of the oases in the steppes, this water didn't have to be made into coffees, teas, or wines to be palatable. Perhaps the priest was not so deprived after all.

They left the pool and immediately mounted the opposite bank. There, sheltered by steep slabs of granite, and high enough to be safe from flash floods, Esidio had created a living space. Kindling was neatly piled to one side. A grass mat covered a flat spot beneath an overhang, and deeper within the cleft, Joren spotted casks of wine and urns of wheat and other dry goods, with a lattice of sturdy limbs to protect them from foraging animals. The firepit was in the center of the area, under the open sky.

"My home," Esidio said, "though I am more often out among the hills."

Joren grunted his approval and began to pile sticks to start the fire. Esidio got out the coffee beans and dropped a handful into a stone mortar. While the war-leader coaxed the tinder, the Zee-no-ken ground the beans with the pestle. The flame caught, and Joren nursed it into a true fire.

"How long has it been since you spoke to anyone?" Joren asked.

Esidio chuckled. "I visited Setan only three months ago. But in my younger days, I once spent eight years without seeing another living soul."

"Didn't you miss company?"

"Of course. But the solitude suited my purpose."

"But so long without a woman…"

"I have yet to believe that a man can keep God and a woman in his heart at the same time."

In due time, the water boiled. The priest stretched his coffee cloth over the hoop and poured the grounds onto it. Joren helped pour water through into a clay pot. Esidio filled two mugs and placed the pot on the hearthstones.

"To rope," Esidio toasted, and they sucked in noisy, sudden swallows in the manner of the Zyraii.

"This is an excellent brew," the priest continued. "I can't recall that I've ever had a coffee so fine."

"There are some advantages to being a war-leader. This isolom."