Dave Smeds - The Sorcery Within

A few boys hesitantly followed suit, each in a somewhat different direction, until a little over half the group remained. Then suddenly all of them acted, walking quickly as if to atone for their lack of initiative. By the time Wilan and the other priests had reached the palms, the meeting place was barren.

At first, Elenya was pleased to be by herself. It was the first time she had been allowed to since she and Alemar had crossed the Ahrahikte range. It felt like freedom. Not quite, for she was deep within T'lil territory and escape was still not worth the risks, but the lack of observation was a genuine luxury.

The furnace in the sky had not yet stolen the morning's pleasantness. She put as much distance as she could between herself and the starting point, without taxing her body, and spent the heat of the day in a niche among some rocks, her tent fabric serving as an awning.

By the time Achird had burned its trail across the western sky, Elenya no longer felt quite so enthused. She was hungry. Soon she would be thirsty, too. The skins held about two gallons – enough to seem heavy during the morning walk, but in this climate, to drink less than that in one day would sap her vitality, particularly for one not born in the country. By strictest conservation, she could ration it and still not be totally enervated by the end of the three days, but realistically, she would have to find water. That was, of course, part of the point of this section of thepulstrall. Thanks to the oasis, the region possessed several springs, and enough underground moisture to support plants like theboro, but first she had to find one or the other. In the meantime, her stomach was empty. She had actually hoped she would find a snake occupying the niche she had chosen to rest in. Snakes were not nearly as fast as some other sources of food, accustomed as they were to being predators, and they provided a substantial amount of meat. She rolled up her awning and set out.

Dunes, outcroppings, and sandstone flats surrounded her, devoid of any obvious source of sustenance. As dusk settled in, she occasionally heard or saw small creatures scuttling over rocks, but trying to chase down any of them would be an exercise in futility, and even if she did catch one, the amount of edible meat would scarcely be enough to stave off her hunger pangs. She passed a patch ofelbraksh brush, its thin leaves curled almost into thorns until the next rain opened them again. She would probably be able to find apommyt nest somewhere within it, but the bird's eggs were so small they weren't worth tearing her skin or clothing for.

The sun was down, but the light still good, when she spotted a shrike wheeling in the sky. A few moments later, it dove out of sight into the distant sage. Seconds later, it fluttered off toward another stand ofelbraksh, a thrashing creature in its grip. Elenya smiled and headed toward the site.

She paused several hundred yards away, until she had seen the shrike fly off, then hurried to theelbraksh before it could return.

Just as she'd expected, the shrike had left its catch, a small but plump sand-runner, impaled on the thorns of the brush. The lizard still shuddered spasmodically. For a moment Elenya felt sorry for it. Its gruesome end might have been avoided if the shrike had possessed talons with which to slay quickly. But why regret a situation from which she benefited? If the shrike had been so well fed that it had decided to hunt more while the light was good, that was its misfortune. Elenya removed the sand-runner and absconded with it.

The bulbs Alemar had found were tucked into a cranny between two boulders, in the pocket of loose soil that had collected there. He returned three to the spot and carefully tamped the dirt down again, put eight in his sack, and bit down on the last. Sweet juice gushed over his tongue. Alemar had seen the variety in bloom near the river. It sported a cornucopia of flowers on a knee-high, thick stalk, multiple blooms and multiple colors on each stem. Ironically, the pollen would induce nausea if swallowed, but the bulbs were considered a delicacy. They seemed far too small to produce such a spectacular plant. All that remained above ground here had been one withered shred, just enough to alert Alemar to the presence of the bulbs. Those he had left would wait, if necessary, several years for enough rain to flower, though lesser rains would prompt root growth.

He sat on one of the boulders and watched the sky shift to deep oranges, pinks, purples, and reds. Flamboyant sunsets were the rule in Zyraii. He virtually ignored them now. But when he did stop to notice, he never failed to be overwhelmed. The desert did have its advantages.

The air was cooling rapidly. Before the light failed altogether, Alemar rose and searched for a campsite. The rocks were not only hard, they attracted creatures. The dunes not far away promised better.

Elenya spread out her tent and reached for the stakes. The hides were well sewn, she noticed. She wondered whether any of the girls of the T'krt had been the seamstress. It brought to mind one of the last nights before she had left for Shom:

"What is that?" Elenya asked. Meyr had just come out of the tent, carrying a small bundle.

The girl paused, eyes wide, mute. Meyr always did her best to avoid any sort of contact with her strange "parent." Finally, still without comment, she held out the object.

Elenya let it unfold, and recognized it. At the same time, Peyri stepped out, noticed the pair, and hurried forward. It was she who answered the question.

"It is a tent for thepulstrall. A boy will use it during part of the time he is at the oasis."

"What boy?"

"Any boy. It doesn't matter. She is required to make one."

"Why?"

Peyri hesitated. Suddenly she turned to Meyr and said, "Take it to Clan Mother. She is waiting."

Meyr nodded submissively, gingerly lifted the tent out of Elenya's hands, and scurried away.

Peyri sighed. "This is not a matter that men need be interested in."

"Is it forbidden?" Elenya said testily.

"No," Peyri admitted.

"Then tell me. I'm just curious. It's not as if I'm plotting something."

Peyri hesitated. Always, the internal debate. The women never were sure how to act with Elenya. A true Zyraii, no doubt, would not have asked his wife such a question. Finally, Peyri said, "Last year, Meyr began her bleeding."

Elenya raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"You don't understand? It is time for her to be a woman."

"Of course it is," Elenya said. "Is there something unusual about that?"

"I don't think being a woman in your land is the same as being a woman here."

"That's true."

Peyri continued, "To become a woman of the Zyraii, she is taught all she will need to be a wife. In the year after she starts to bleed, she must show that she can do all of these things alone. She must be able to cook both the common foods and the ritual ones. She must make a garment for every member of her family. She must cure hides. She must understand how to please her husband when she goes to his bed, and how to prevent the children from happening at the wrong time. The last thing is to make the tents for the boys to use in thepulstrall. Now she can be married. When the new men come back from Shom, she will be ready."

"Meyr is going to be married?" Elenya said, surprised.

"No. Shecan be married. A man must want her. Sesheer has been of age for two years now, but no one has asked to wed her."

Now, out in the desert, Elenya debated with herself as to which was the easier ritual: the abrupt but respected one demanded of the males or the drawn-out, unpublicized female one.

With her luck, she was glad not to have to endure both.

Task done, she squirmed feet first into the cloth cocoon she had created. She wondered who had ended up with Meyr's tent.