male started, peering at me. “Are you the new mokkira? The one the Vorakkar sent for?”
“Lysi,” I murmured, inclining my head.
The relief on his face was palpable. For a moment, I thought the boy might start crying.
“I’m assuming the mokkira had just taken you on as his apprentice before his passing?” I asked gently.
The boy swallowed hard, the thick golden column of his throat bobbing. “Lysi. Only a few moon cycles before.”
Poor boy. No wonder.
I nodded, reaching out to touch his forearm. “That’s a large burden to carry. But don’t worry, I’m here to help you now. Lysi?”
He looked at me with new eyes. He didn’t even seem to notice that I was a vekkiri. He didn’t question my presence there. The lines on his forehead smoothed and he let out a shuddering breath. That was when he seemed to realize the disarray in the voliki.
“I had meant to clean before your arrival,” he said sheepishly, pushing a strand of hair off his face. “But then I realized our stocks of uudun were depleted. It slipped my mind. A female had come to me with sickness and I forgot—”
“It’s all right,” I told him, looking around the voliki. “We will clean today, get everything sorted and organized. I have extra uudun with me in case we need it. But we will focus on replenishing the stores tomorrow, lysi?”
From behind me, Hinna asked softly, “Would you like me to get fresh water and cloth, Missi—mokkira?”
I didn’t comment on her slight slip of the tongue. Instead, I nodded. “That would be very helpful, kakkira vor.”
“I will assist you,” the Dakkari boy hurriedly said, that dark blush back on his cheeks when Hinna looked at him. A small smile crossed my lips but I hoped his little crush wouldn’t serve as a distraction. “If that is agreeable to you, mokkira,” he added.
“Lysi, please help her. We will need a lot of water and cloth to get this voliki back to its rightful state,” I told him.
His blush deepened.
Before he left, he inclined his head. Quietly, he said, “My given name is Essir, mokkira. It is my honor for you to have it. It will be my honor to learn from you as your apprentice.”
Something bubbled up in my throat, thick and wonderful. I’d never had the opportunity to teach anyone before. I’d always wanted this. I’d always worked towards this.
Determination burned inside me. I had only so much time to teach Essir, but I would ensure that he would be able to handle whatever the horde threw at him.
“Kakkira vor, Essir,” I murmured, inclining my head towards him. “Now go. We have much work to do today.”
“Lysi, mokkira,” he replied and then he left the voliki, holding the entrance flap open for Hinna.
When I was alone, I sighed. Then I breathed in the various scents, identifying ingredients that lingered, some that might have been forever imprinted in the hide of the structure.
Sturdy work benches lined the walls of the voliki, curved to follow the circular shape. It was massive inside, more room even than we’d had in the saruk. A few support columns stood in the very middle, surrounding the venting hole at the top. And on the left side of the voliki, there was a thick flap that covered at entire section of the structure, cutting it off from the rest of the space.
When I went to inspect it, it was as I suspected. This was where the previous mokkira had brewed his potions and tonics. No light reached here, just like in the back room at the saruk. Unlike the rest of the voliki, this space looked relatively clean. Practically untouched, I assumed, since the mokkira’s death.
I ran my fingers over the black pot that sat on the work bench there. It was clean, though dust-ridden. I went back out to the main section. A Dakkari steel cot was to the right of the tent, nearest the venting hole. For the more serious wounds, the ones that bled. Dakkari steel cleaned up quite easily, leaving no stains on its surface.
Tall columns of cabinets and drawers were flush against the far-right wall, where I assumed the medicines and supplies were kept.
I blew out a breath, listening to the quiet of the voliki, which mixed with the sounds of Kiran’s horde drifting in through the open, netted windows.
This will be my home, if only for a little while, I thought.
And I would make the best of it.
Chapter Eighteen
“An ungira?” my pujerak, Errok, breathed.