The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,77
the grave, but you never even seem to sleep. How old are you, anyway?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. But complaining about my infirmity prompts regular dinner invitations from the widows.”
“Nerang! You’re terrible!”
He’s unapologetic. “I never learned to cook. I have to beg for my meals.”
“I doubt Konol lets you go hungry.”
“He is a good son, if a bit reckless at times. He and Myall appear to have much in common.”
Wild boy. I snort. “Peree seemed happier today after hunting with Konol.” And Kai.
“He is improving quickly, but he’s too thin and easily winded. He tries to hide it, but I think his wound continues to cause him pain. Still, I doubt I’ll be able to keep him here for long once you leave.” He mutters about pigheadedness. “It will be quieter, when you go. Your presence in the village caused quite a stir.”
“I appreciate all that the anuna—and especially you—have done for us. I’m sorry if we created any problems by being here.”
He pats my arm. “Causing a stir doesn’t necessarily equate to a problem. The presence of lorinyas over the years has not always been easy, but we learn from the experience. We learn more about the world beyond Koolkuna, and about ourselves, reflected in the gaze of an outsider. Tell me, what do you think of us?”
I think for a moment, then answer honestly. “I think you’re people who live peacefully with each other, who welcome strangers, who care for the creatures that could be their worst enemies. You embrace kindness and cooperation. Koolkuna is what I’d like my community to become.”
Nerang chuckles. “We hide our blemishes well, then. It’s not always as idyllic as you give us credit for, but we do strive for peace and kindness.”
“Have you had any brilliant ideas about how to convince my people the water is poisoned?” I ask hopefully.
“Without the Myuna to clear their minds, it will be difficult. Even if they trust you, their fear of the runa will be strong. You can’t bring the Myuna to them, so perhaps the only solution is to bring them to the Myuna.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spoke to the anuna. You may bring your people here to take the waters. Those who wish to may stay. The same offer will be extended to Kadee and Myall’s people.”
“But there are so many of us. And I know you’re worried about a drought.”
“We’ve always been provided for,” Nerang says. “There’s no reason to think we won’t be now.”
“It’s too much to ask. You can’t–”
He quiets me. “We’ve enjoyed good fortune. We would like to share it with others.”
I’m humbled by the generosity of the offer. It’s everything I’d been hoping for, but didn’t dare admit. To know my family and people are safe, and not under the influence of the poison, to not have to hide in the caves, to choose to live on the ground or in the trees—it’s a stunning vision.
Would the Three even consider it? I think about it. They would have to be persuaded to allow me to lead everyone through days in the dark caves, culminating with a suicidal swim. All to convince them that the reality they’ve always known isn’t real. It’s ludicrous.
I shake my head. “They’ll never do it.”
Nerang is quiet for a moment. “Did you not walk among the creatures, trusting the assurances of your people that you would be safe?”
“That was different.”
“Why? Don’t discount your authority so easily, young one.”
I fling out my hands. “Young one! That’s my point! I’m not one of the Three, or one of the elders. I’m not even an adult yet. No one will listen to me.”
“They trusted you to collect their water, and to search for the Myuna.”
They didn’t have a choice. “Thank you, Nerang, truly. I’ll present your offer to my people. But I don’t even know how I’m going to get home yet.” I gesture to the plummeting waterfall. “Is there another way into the Dark Place? I don’t think I can get in the way I got out.”
“Kadee knows the way through the forest. She agreed to guide you.”
“Really? She’s willing to go back?” I ask.
“It surprised me as well.”
While we talked, the last of the light faded from the sky, and was replaced only by the brighter, more focused glow of the bonfire. A babble of voices was audible over the waterfall before, but now I only hear two.
“Well,” Nerang says, standing, “we’ve successfully avoided the last of the preparations for the Feast.