AN: Thank you to everyone who responded last time. I can't believe I screwed up that badly. My face was red, sure enough. Thank you to anyone still reading after the ridiculously slow updates. To say life has been hectic lately would be an even more ridiculous understatement.
4. Escape to the Stars
I'm sick and tired of this so-called life,
Without room to breathe.
I toss and turn in my bed all night;
Am I the only one who finds no peace?
- From Escape to the Stars by Cinema Bizarre
Isis's eyes snapped open. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She spent a few minutes calming herself down, becoming accustomed to the darkness of her chambers. She realised belatedly that her hands had bunched into such tight fists that her palms were chafed. Every knuckle and joint was blanched. It felt as though her finger-bones might actually snap when she unclenched.
Gingerly she touched her throat. During the day the Millennium Necklace rested there. At night she removed the sacred item, but she could think of no other reason for her disturbing dreams. She woken like this, bathed in sweat and with her head throbbing, only once before. That had been the night the old Pharaoh died. Even though it wasn't around her neck, the Millennium Necklace had cried out to her, as had all the other Items to the priests. The cry had gone up at the very moment the old Pharaoh breathed his last.
Tonight, however, Isis's mind filled with anxiety she couldn't attribute. The fading memory of a warning tasted bitter in the back of her throat, like she had drunk stagnant water or undergone childbearing-sickness. She couldn't understand why she had woken. Was the prince all right? There was no commotion outside, as there had been when his father died. The harder she tried to read the memory, the more confused she became.
Isis had never married or produced children of her own. As a priest of the Pharaoh's court she had dedicated her life to the royal family. Just as his father before him, the new young ruler was her son, her husband, her sovereign, and everything else to her now. She was connected to the position of Pharaoh more than the person assuming the role. Unlike his father, however, she felt a stronger connection to the prince. Rather than think of him as a husband in any sense, she felt more like his guardian, as surely as a mother jackal guarded her cubs. The other priests were guardians and spouses to the crown too, but it burned brightest in Isis.
She knew some would see it as disrespectful for her to think of the new pharaoh as a mortal boy, but Isis could not banish memories of him as a child learning to walk, learning to stand straight-backed as a prince should, and running around acting as a prince should not when nobody was looking. To be the avatar of the gods was a heavy burden, especially for someone so young. Though he had not yet been formally received as king, and a lot of the court still slipped up and called him 'prince', Pharaoh Atem stirred motherly feelings Isis knew others would never understand. Perhaps she would feel different when the formal ceremony affirming his ascent to the throne was over. Somehow she doubted it.
None of which explained why she felt like she had just used the Millennium Necklace when she wasn't even wearing it. She hadn't felt this bad since she first inherited the item from its original keeper. It had taken a long time for Isis to get used to the rush of power working through her. Her head hurt and her eyelids felt dry as they scraped up and down. She sat up, but that only increased the pressure behind her eyes. She pressed the heels of hands against them, as if trying to force them back into her skull, but it didn't help.
What had she Seen? She vaguely recalled shadows circling her on all sides, like a pack of wild dogs around a sheep that had wandered too far from the flock. She remembered throwing herself into the shadows to escape some greater threat looming above. Perhaps she had been running away, she thought. Or perhaps she had been running towards someone, trying to warn them of the danger.
There was someone else there, she thought. Someone … young. The Pharaoh, perhaps? Mahaad's apprentice? She tried to bring to mind the names of all the youngsters in the court, but none came.
It was no use. Her head hurt too much. The remnants of her dream slipped away like morning mist – first grey, then transparent, then gone. Isis was left with nothing but the sense that it portended bad things. Something was coming that spelled danger for her inexperienced, untested boy-Pharaoh.
The prince was still too busy mourning his father to be fully aware of the tasks that now fell to him as ruler. He celebrated his father's rise into the ranks of the gods, but he missed him too.
He is avatar to the gods, she told herself sternly. He must learn to act like it. He has no time for boyish grief anymore. He has the might of the Millennium Items and the entire court on his side. Whatever problems arise, I'm sure he will be able to face them like a king, not a child.
Yet she couldn't shake away the image of a little boy learning to walk, smiling and with arms outstretched for his father to catch him.
"We have to retrieve them," Elder Sindin says. "They can't be far if they're dragging that cripple with them."
"She isn't exactly a cripple -" Elder Pegas point out.
"Don't pick at details, Pegas. It's not helpful."
Elder Pegas shrugs. Every move he makes is impossibly grateful, given his age. Even his voice slips from his mouth like the expensive slippery fabrics Wandering People can never afford. "I merely wanted to mention that despite your constant exaggeration, you can't make the girl what she is not. Their progress won't be as slow as if she really was a cripple. Her legs work, she just can't use them as much as a healthy girl her age. We can't assume she'll slow them down very much at all. One of the others will probably carry her when she's tired. They aren't stupid; they won't stop to rest until they've put considerable distance between us and them. Plus, Jono is leading them. He's a promising young warrior. His trainers all talk about how good he is in the field. He was tipped for big things until his happened. If anyone can keep three women alive in the wilderness, it's Jono."
"Otog told you this?" Elder Sindin demands. "Did that bloody seer tell you Jono is actually going to defy us and get away with it?"
"We rely too much on that seer." Elder Goza thumps his staff. The colourful feathers and small bones dangling from the top rattle like a gibbet. The bones are not all from animals. Shards of human fingers rattle amongst the threads – enemies he was particularly proud to defeat when he was younger, plus traitors and warriors from rival tribes he has ordered others to execute since he became too old for fighting. "We're becoming soft. How else could we have let something like this happen? Desertion. Trickery. Rebellion from within. Theft from our own stores. Women defying us! It's disgusting."
"Would you rather we were blind to everything the future holds?" Elder Pegas asks. He folds his arms, having no staff to bang to make his point. He doesn't need one. Elder Pegas doesn't have Elder Goza's temper. He prefers to use flattery and cajoling to tease truths and promises from people. He can convince others to do what he wants and believe they chose his way themselves. He has sent men to die before, and they were smiling as they went. "Our tribe has been blessed with seers for generations. They're the reason we've survived and remained strong when so many others have fallen to bandits and sickness, or grown weak and become easy pickings for stronger tribes. Would you like us to become like the Black Wing people – all our men killed and all our women made into the wives of outsiders? All our baby sons murdered and our baby daughters raised as if they belong to another tribe, their heritage and pride forgotten?"
Elder Goza grinds his teeth. "Of course I don't, you imbecile."
"Then don't talk like a fool. Otog may not be all-seeing, but he's a resource we can't do without."
"Which brings us back to the crisis at hand," says Elder Sindin. "Jono kidnapped Otog's apprentice."
Elder Goza scowls. "I can't understand why Jono and Maibe would go to the trouble of kidnapping Téana. Why? They have to know we'd try to get her back. Why take such a giant risk to save a barren girl so useless even a donkey wouldn't kick her? That kind of stupidity and treason deserves nothing less than death."
Elder Sindin shakes his head. "Before we can deal out any punishment we have to find them and bring them back."
Elder Pegas strokes his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure Téana was kidnapped."
Elder Sindin's head snaps up. "You think she went with them willingly?"
"That I can't say. I understand why Jono would leave, but Maibe? I can only think she followed Jono because she intends to be his wife – or he kidnapped her for the same reason. But there were no signs of struggle, and nobody heard anything out of the ordinary. Nobody even knew they were gone until long after it happened."
"If we stay just sitting around on our backsides like piles of camel dung, they'll get clean away!" Elder Goza bangs his staff again for emphasis.
"We need the seer girl back," Elder Pegas agrees. "If anything should happen to Otog, we'd be helpless. We need that girl's gifts as insurance against his death. Plus there's always a chance that she could give birth to other seers. It hasn't always worked with male seers, but now we have a female, perhaps things will be different. If she and Otog were to have a child, surely that one would inherit powers off both parents and be an even stronger seer …"
"And we need to make an example out of Jono," Elder Goza interrupts. "The whole tribe has been getting too meek lately. They have no fire in their bellies like the old days. They're content to let bigger personalities tell them what to do – not us. They like Jono. He's popular. A public execution for his betrayal would remind them who they should be loyal to."
Elder Sindin raises his hand to stop Elder Goza's tirade. "We can deal with that once they've been brought back to us -"
"All except Seren," Elder Goza interrupts again. "No need to bring her back."
"Maybe not, but Jono, Maibe and Téana must be retrieved before we can decide what to do next. How many can we spare to track them?"
"We can make camp here for at least another moon," Elder Pegas says. "Perhaps more. Our food stores are high and there aren't any rival tribes around this area. As you said, the four of them can't have gone far. I suggest we send three of those approaching the Warrior Test. It will be a good assessment of their skills."
"I think two untested and one full warrior would be better," Elder Sindin replies. "They'll need some experience to pit against Jono's talent. If Téana really wasn't kidnapped she may be guiding the rest of the deserters, or at least they may be forcing her to use her gifts to help them escape and evade capture. We need to compensate for that."
"Send Usi," Elder Goza barks. "He's loyal and a full warrior."
"Usi?" Elder Pegas pulls a face. "Isn't he slightly … unbalanced?" He chooses his words carefully, but Elder Goza's face still bulges.
"Usi is a real man!" he shouts. "He's fearless and merciless! In a battle, I'd stake everything I have on Usi defeating that bastard Jono!"
Elder Pegas raises his hands. "Peace, Goza. You have your choice. To go with him as my choice, I suggest Hondo."
"Hondo?" Elder Goza echoes. "But he's Jono's friend!"
They all know the story: Hondo's parents cared for Jono and Seren after the deaths of their mother and father. There has to be a connection between the two young men after living so closely for so long.
Elder Pegas smiles. It is like a snake sliding just beneath the sand, where incautious feet are destined to step on it and die. "Hondo is impatient to pass the Warrior Test at the turn of the season. This will be an excellent way for him to show both his skills and his loyalty to the tribe. We could even make this a central part of the Test, since it needs high levels of skill, hard work and intelligence. Either he kills his friend and becomes a full warrior, or refuses and is punished. You can even choose his punishment, Goza. You'd like that."
"I don't like it," Elder Goza grumbles.
"Put it this way: if Hondo stays and we don't test his loyalty, he may hold the death of his friend against us. He's a promising young warrior too, and he's almost as well-liked as Jono. Are you willing to take the risk he won't retaliate someday? This way we can nip the problem in the bud before it has a chance to sprout."
"Plant sayings," Elder Goza spits. "You have more green than red in your blood, Pegas."
"I recommend sending Makalani as my choice," Elder Sindin butts in. "He's a strapping lad, eager to prove himself, and he has no ties to that traitor Jono the way Hondo does. He can keep an eye on Hondo while Usi takes care of business."
"Excellent." Elder Pegas pats his knees and leans forward over his crossed legs to pluck a dried fig from the plate between them. "Then it's decided. I'll inform Usi, Honda and Makalani before sunzenith and tell the women to ready supplies for them. They can take camels to speed their journey. Before the moon waxes full, we should have our lost lambs back with us."
Elder Goza's smile reflects his satisfaction that before the full moon his staff will bear the bone of at least one more human finger.
Téana's eyes snapped open. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She spent a few minutes calming herself down, becoming accustomed to the darkness of the narrow cave. She realised belatedly that her hands had bunched in the linen wrapped around herself and Seren. Seren stirred, murmuring in her sleep. Téana gently eased herself out of the warm cloth so she wouldn't wake her. Seren's days were full of enough agony from travelling; there was no reason to disturb her rest as well.
Jono was at the cave mouth. Téana had known he would be, though he looked shocked to see her.
"Téana? Is something wrong?" He turned slightly towards her. "Is Seren all right?"
"She's fine. She's sleeping." Téana wrapped her robes around herself. They were made of light coloured fabric that reflected the heat of the sun during the day, but allowed them to keep warm at night by wrapping their bodies up in their many folds. Despite this, Téana shivered. "I had a Vision."
Jono's expression, illuminated by the moon, darkened at her words. She came close to him, but only so she could look out at the growing disc in the sky. It wouldn't be long until it was full.
"Before the moon waxes full, we should have our lost lambs back with us."
"The Elders have sent people after us."
"I thought they would," Jono replied. "That's why I said to stick to the mountains. It's more difficult to track us here – not many could do it."
Téana knew as well as he did that they couldn't keep ducking in and out of caves forever. They needed a destination. Without a clear place to go to, they would wander and eventually be caught. Then they would have to fight their pursuers, or find another solution that didn't end with everyone being killed – or worse. She hadn't had any Visions about what would happen to them if they were taken back to the tribe, but she could imagine.
"Who did they send?" Jono asked.
"Usi, Makalani and Hondo."
Jono actually blanched. "Hondo? And he accepted?"
"They didn't give him a real choice. It's being made into part of his Warrior Test. If he doesn't bring us back he won't pass. If he doesn't even find us, he won't pass. If he tries to defy them and refuse to come after us, he won't pass."
The fate for those young men who didn't pass the Warrior Test was humiliation and eternal disgrace. Only warriors and those with special talents were considered fit to give tribeswomen sons, or travel at the front of the procession when they moved camp, or ride the animals they took with them. Those who didn't pass were forced to forever do the jobs nobody else wanted. They couldn't marry or carry on their family line unless they specialised in something else – and after the disgrace of trying and failing to pass the test, they would have to be phenomenally good or supernaturally gifted. Failed warriors picked up after the animals, buried the camp waste, carried the heaviest packs and lived in the oldest, most threadbare tents. They endured degradation at the hands of those they had once called brothers and could do nothing to save themselves if someone raised a hand against them. Sometimes they left the tribe, but not as Jono's little group had done – chasing freedom and a different way of life. Disgraced men just walked into the desert without provisions and waited for something to put them out of their misery.
Jono's jaw tightened. "Damn it." The hand not around his spear clenched. "Damn it!"
He was caught, Téana knew. Honda was like his brother, but Seren was his sister by blood and she needed him. Likewise, Maibe and Téana needed him to protect them now they had stepped out into the unknown together. There was no way they could go back to the tribe, nor did they want to, yet Jono would not want his oldest friend to face disgrace because of him. If Hondo did catch up with them, Jono would have to fight him. Hondo couldn't afford to let them go and couldn't afford to give up chasing them, but there was no way Jono would ever go back with him. It was a death sentence for one of them. Jono's expression said clearly that he understood this fact, and how he felt about it.
"I'm sorry," Téana said.
Jono shook his head. "What are you sorry for? It wasn't your idea to leave."
"No, but I could have said no. I could have stopped this." Her own hands bunched into fists. "My gifts … my inner eye … I'm still not trained enough to use it properly. My Visions come when they want to. If I'd been better at using my talent, I could've foreseen they'd send Hondo after us -"
"There's no use saying things like that," Jono said firmly. "It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault – except the Elders," he added bitterly. "It seems like their only purpose in life is to make ours more difficult. Damn them. Would it kill them to just let us go? I hope scorpions crawl into their bedrolls."
"It's because of me," Téana admitted in a low voice. "They can't just let us go. If it was just you, Maibe and Seren, maybe they would have, but they want me back. Actually," she corrected herself, "they just want my gifts back. The rest of me is incidental."
Jono shook his head again. "Even if you hadn't agreed to come, they'd have found some other reason to drag us back. I'm a pretty useful resource myself, and so is Maibe – you can't just throw away a fertile woman and a strong young warrior and say 'oh well, plenty more where they came from'. They'd lose face if they let us desert without even trying to punish us. We all knew the risks. You shouldn't blame yourself, Téana. If it hadn't been for you telling us which way to go, we'd have died in that sandstorm two days ago." His face was taut and there were dark rings around his eyes. Téana got the feeling he had spent every night like this since they escaped, watching over them wherever they were in case they needed to move out quickly. She had suggested they share watch duties, but he had dismissed the idea. Now the strain of protecting them was taking its toll.
"I'm sor-"
"I told you not to apologise," he snapped. At her flinch he softened and gestured for her to sit next to him.
Téana hesitated, aware she wasn't his intended. Neither was Maibe, but she had a stronger claim. Or … maybe not. Maibe had some pretty strange ideas about men and women. She had confessed some of them to Téana and Seren as they travelled.
Tentatively, Téana sat beside Jono. She kept her hands folded in her lap. Jono's curved sword sat between them. Though she knew he would never use it on her, or any of them, she took comfort in the physical line it drew between their bodies. Jono was handsome and strong, but Téana felt nothing for him. She was no longer bound by the tribal laws that said she had to accept any man who proposed marriage once she had come of age. The idea was strangely liberating. She looked up at the sky, thinking about all the other rules she had left behind with the tribe.
Otog sometimes said that if a seer concentrated hard, the stars rearranged themselves to show things nobody else could See. Téana had never experienced it, though they had spent long evenings together outside his tent. He had tried to teach her about divining meaning from the night sky. She often frustrated him with how little she seemed able to learn from him. Otog wasn't the best teacher – he was impatient and hot-tempered – but he cared about her in his own way. If they were anything she regretted leaving behind, it was him. She hoped he understood why she had run away.
She stared upwards, hoping she would find guidance in the sky. Had she done the right thing? Guilt made her heart hurt and doubt made her head ache. It wasn't the first time she had asked the question and it wouldn't be the last.
When Maibe had first approached her with the idea of leaving, Téana had been surprised at how eagerly she leapt at the idea. Did she really have such little regard for the people who had raised her? Her parents had given up all claims when she became Otog's apprentice, but she had loved them before that. Why hadn't that been enough to keep her with them?
All doubts aside, she couldn't deny what she felt. She also couldn't deny the peculiar foreboding that had lately followed her like smoke, traceable back to the smouldering mass of interlocking twigs that were her thoughts. She had felt compelled to go with Jono and his group. They needed her somehow – or they were going to need her. It was true that she had Seen the sandstorm coming and directed them to the safety of the mountain range and its hidden caves. If she hadn't been there they would have perished days ago when they first set out. Still, Téana couldn't shake the feeling that this was not the only reason she had left the safety of the tribe. There was more in store for them – and herself – than her limited powers could predict.
As ever, her thoughts went back to the pale stranger who had spent so little time with them, but whose sad eyes had burned a hole in her memory. Téana had also felt there were things in store for that girl – terrible things she couldn't put names to. All her doubts about the tribe and its way of life had started with that stranger. Téana doubted she would ever see the girl again, but the memory of their final conversation followed her around like a phantom – or an omen.
"A circle may seem to have no end and no beginning, but everything has an ending and a beginning. Some are just easier to see than others. You were kind to me. I call on the spirits of the ocean and of my homeland to guide your path straight and true, from your beginning to your someday end."
"What should we do?" Téana didn't look at Jono, only listening to his reply.
"Keep one step ahead of them. What else can we do? I know Hondo. He's as good as me at survival techniques and a pretty good tracker. Plus they have Usi leading them. He's as vindictive as the Elders. He won't give up on us even if he has a jackal hanging from every limb and an eagle clawing out his eyes."
Téana couldn't disagree. She had never felt comfortable around Usi. His hulking frame masked a cruelty that chilled her when he talked about choosing a wife. He was greedy and manipulative, and arrogant enough to think that because he was one of their strongest warriors he deserved the best of everything. More than once he had looked at Téana and she had read the desire on his face. They had sent her scurrying into Otog's tent, even though she didn't see Otog as a potential husband either. Still, letting people think the two seers may someday wed was all right if it made Usi leave her alone. Usi took pleasure in hurting others like they were sheep he was readying for slaughter. Any woman he took to his bed would be little more than a piece of meat to him. Maybe there was more to Maibe's ideas of women being more than just wives and mothers than Téana had initially given her credit for.
Suddenly, as her thoughts wandered this unfamiliar and slightly frightening path, Téana's eyes widened. High above, the stars seemed to shift of their own accord. They flickered in and out like fireflies. As she watched, they tugged at their moorings like boats on the Nile when hippos brushed against them. A few burned brighter than the rest, swivelling out of place to form a line across the sky. These streaking away, leaving a green imprint of their path on the backs of her eyes. Téana blinked, watching four tiny stars follow this fading line at a much slower pace, and three other small stars following them in turn. When the four reached the end of the path they found a writhing mass of light and joined it, soon becoming lost amidst the iridescence. When the three remaining stars arrived they skirted around it aimlessly, obviously bewildered. It was as if they couldn't make out the four other stars anymore; they had lost them and moved away sullenly.
"Téana?" Jono's voice cut into her reverie like lightening cutting the sky in two.
Téana fell back into her own head. When she looked up again the stars were as they had always been. It was as though they had never moved at all. They hadn't. It was she who had shifted. Something inside her had altered. Perversely, she wished Otog was here so she could tell him she had finally done it.
"I know where we have to go," she said breathlessly.
"What?"
"I know where we have to go," she said again, turning to Jono and meeting his bewildered gaze. "The great city. The Pharaoh's city! We have to go there. No tracker will be able to find us in a place like that, no matter how skilled they are. In the wilderness they'll pick us out like a black goat on white sand, but in a city with so many other people around it will be easy for us to hide. Whatever the Elders say, they can't chase us forever. Eventually they'll have to recall Usi and the others so they can use them as protection when the tribe decamps. When the season changes and the tribe has to move they'll haveto leave us alone. We just have to hold out until then."
She could see Jono processing the idea. "That might just work," he said at last. "But could we do it? We've never been in a city for more than a day before. Even then it was only for trading and we had adults with us who knew what to do and how to act. Egyptian ways aren't the same as our ways. They're an odd bunch with some pretty bizarre ideas and customs. Could we really live there for as long as we'd need to in order to lose Usi and the others?"
"I think we could. There's no way the Elders could blame anyone for not being able to find us in the Pharaoh's city. They couldn't find their own backsides with both hands in a crowded place like that."
Jono's eyes widened. "Did you really just say that?"
Téana blushed and averted her eyes. What was wrong with her lately? She had been acting so unlike herself. Then she realised Jono was chuckling. She looked up at him.
"The world has gone mad," he said. "But I'm glad. Madness may be the only way for us to survive in times like this. And at least your kind of madness has some sanity in it."
Téana gave a small smile. "Perhaps," she said softly, looking back at the stars and their eternal, unwavering light. "If we can't put our faith in sanity, then why not put it in madness and the supernatural?"
"That's so nonsensical it loops right back around to sense again." Jono scratched his head. "I think."
To Egypt, then, and whatever they may find there. Whatever it was, it had to be better than what they were leaving behind. Besides, maybe this was how they would build their future – not scampering across rocks like rats and snakes, but as part of the empire their nomadic tribe had always shunned. It was possible. To Téana, who had woken filled with dreadful thoughts of death and hopelessness, the world seemed suddenly filled with a fresh sense of possibility.
Otog Strange-Eyes didn't snap his strange eyes open. His lids slid back slowly, revealing wide green irises and tiny pupils. As a child, he had been bullied and ridiculed for his abnormal eye-colouring and aversion to bright light. Being out in the sun caused him no end of headaches and fevers, but he could find his way better than anyone in the dark. Rather than include him in night-time games, or care for him during the day, other children picked on him until he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff or pick a rock off that same cliff and bash their brains in – neither of which he had ever done.
It wasn't until his second sight manifested that 'strange eyes' became a compliment instead of an insult – Otog Strange-Eyes, tribal seer, keeper of secrets from the future and the past; the one everyone went to for advice, even before going to the Elders. Otog was young, but people valued what he had to tell them. The very same people who had made him work in the sunshine, through a pounding head and blurry vision, now expected him to tell them they had wondrous things waiting for them in their futures.
His breathing was even, though a little shallow, as it always was when he emerged from a Vision. He spent a few minutes processing what he had seen, letting no outside stimulus interrupt his recall. He realised belatedly that there was a dull ache behind his eyes. He had overstretched himself. He pressed a hand to his forehead, relishing the coolness of his own fingers even though the desert at night was cold. A sharp breeze blew outside his tent, trying to open the flaps.
Unlike Téana, Otog had come into his gifts in his sixth winter. He understood how to use his power for more than just looking into the future. He understood that the future wasn't something you could look into and know with certainty like the present. Time was a fluid thing, unstable as water. You could try to grab onto a piece and study it, but it was like trying to grab handfuls of river with your hands. The past was nothing but stories and memories, the present solid, and the future a range of possibilities you could glimpse but not live in.
Ordinary people had asked about his gifts worked. He had found it difficult to explain to them the sprawling nature of infinite possibility – this future intersected with that one, branched off into that one, doubled back into that one, converged into that one and linked ahead into that one, all seen in a heartbeat. It had been hard enough trying to explain things to Téana. It was unusual for a woman to be a seer, and equally unusual for second sight to emerge so late. Téana had gained her powers when she changed from girl to woman – that odd time when all the women retreated into their tents to whisper about things the men 'couldn't understand'. Even so, Otog had done what the Elders ordered and taken her on as his apprentice. He was only a few years older than her, which had made the arrangement uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassing. Once a month she had to sleep in a separate tent, but otherwise they lived together, sleeping in separate bedding but still close enough for him to wake her when her nightmares got too much. His gifts sometimes made him feel like he was older than even the desert itself, but Téana's innocence had reminded him otherwise.
After a while he had learned to enjoy spending time with her, even if she could be as frustrating as a flea in his ear. He knew there was talk of them marrying. He couldn't say he was opposed to the idea. He did care for Téana in his own way. They were two of a kind. They could understand each other in ways nobody else could – although sometimes even he couldn't understand the way her mind worked.
She had come to him after the strange girl with white hair arrived in their camp. Téana's soft heart had ached to help someone she should have kicked sand at and spat on. She had asked Otog for help, begging him to make the Elders take the stranger in. Otog couldn't help her, though it wasn't because he didn't care. The stranger was an outcast because she was different; how could 'Strange Eyes' discriminate when that could so easily have been him? Yet he couldn't lie to the Elders. When Sindin's eyes rested on him he had been compelled to tell them about the futures of destruction and sorrow trailing behind the stranger like a pennant. None of her possibilities ended happily. She was destined for only tragedy that would bring down anyone who was close to her at the time. Plus, even if the world had changed overnight and the Elders had offered her a place among them, that girl was chasing something else and would continue to do so until her dying day.
Téana hadn't understood. How could she? Nobody knew of his connection to Sindin. She just thought he was being heartless. Téana could be too kind for her own good sometimes.
"She'll die out there on her own!" she had yelled at Otog when nobody was around to hear her disrespecting a male superior. "Don't you care?"
"I care."
"Then why didn't you help? If we had both stood up for her, they would've listened! They couldn't argue with both of us!" Her eyes had been wet with tears. His own had been dry as sand at midday. "We could've said she was lucky or something. Just for a little while…"
"No, we couldn't. That's not the way we work."
"And how do we work, Otog? We just tell them the bits they want to know. When the Elders call us, we edit ourselves. Why don't we tell them the rest? Why can't I speak my mind?" This last question was directed at the floor, not him.
"Because you're not an idiot."
"I feel like an idiot. They're just using us. Sometimes I think they barely see us as people."
"Everybody in the tribe has a place and a purpose." Otog had thought back to Sindin's penetrating gaze but not reacted. He had spent years practising how not to care. "This is ours. You're better off than most."
Téana hadn't said anything to that. Afterwards she had withdrawn into herself, worrying Otog with her constant preoccupation and her reticence when dealing with other tribesman. She was a friendly, outgoing soul, always ready with a kind word and an encouraging smile. Even failed warriors received the same treatment as everyone else. The change in her after the stranger left had disturbed Otog.
"I just … I can't help it," she had said cryptically, sitting across from him in their tent and twisting her hands in her lap. "How do you explain suddenly not wanting to be who you've always been? It's wrong, I know, but … I'm constantly trying to remind myself of how good my life is here. I have a home, I have more status than most women because of you and my gifts, I have you to look out for me, but I don't feel like it's mine anymore."
"It's all still yours if you want it," he had said, wondering if now was the time to ask her to marry him.
"I look at the faces of those around me and I see cruelty where I didn't see it before. It makes me feel ill sometimes. I don't understand, Otog. Why have I become like this? Am I cursed?"
Otog had shaken his head vehemently. "I can't see any black clouds shrouding you. You're not under any enchantment."
"Then what's wrong with me? I've never felt like this before. I used to care about everyone. Now, when I think about the tribe, all I can think about is that girl and Seren, and how unfair it is that I'm not allowed to help them, and how unfair the Elders are for casting them out."
"You've Seen a Vision of them casting out Seren?"
"I didn't need to. It's obvious that's what's they're going to do. It makes me so angry that I just want to … to burst." Her nails had cut half-moons into her palms. Though she had kept her eyes lowered, Otog could see the fire burning in them. She used to burn with a similar fire when he taught her new things about her gifts, but she hadn't for some time now. It had been both refreshing and unsettling to see it burn again.
"I think," Otog had said contemplatively, "your gifts are telling you things your gut has already guessed."
"How do I go back, Otog? I hate feeling like this."
"Give it time." After Seren was gone, and after the memory of the stranger had faded, things would go back to normal.
He convinced himself of that because it was what he wanted. He disregarded all the portents that said otherwise, ignoring the first lesson taught to all seers – always listen to your gifts. Instead of accepting the ways things were, he had thought he could make them into what he wanted them to be.
Otog felt disappointed and betrayed when Téana left. He suspected Jono had been the instigator, since they had taken Seren, and he knew enough about Maibe's heart to know that she was a much stronger personality than the tribe usually produced in its women. Maibe was too independent, just as Téana was too compassionate and Seren too frail. None of them truly fitted in here. Not that this was any excuse to just let them escape without reprisal.
For a second Otog felt a flash of hatred. He sat up with a frown. His dream had been of a towering shadow that leaked evil the way a man stuck full of arrows leaked blood. Something was coming; something devastating and big enough to rock all of Egypt. He wanted Téana here with him. Was the hatred for her for leaving? Or was it for the Elders? Once upon a time he hadn't been able to think of them without hatred, but that had been a long time ago – or so he had thought.
Otog tried to seek out Téana's mind and show her the threat so she could prepare herself, but she was shielding herself the way he had taught her. Instead, he found another receptive mind and briefly touched it with his warning. This person wasn't a seer, but her soul had still somehow shown the scars and pockmarks of seeing future possibilities. She had absorbed his message like it was water after a long drought. Otog didn't know what to make of this, except to hope that somehow Téana had also sensed the shadow and was already aware of the impending darkness headed to towards Egypt.
Otog Strange-Eyes rose and breathed deeply. He had to tell the Elders. It would then be up to them how the tribe should proceed – whether they should stay where they were and await the return of Usi's party, or break camp now and leave before it was too late. He stopped when he realised that he hadn't told them he knew Téana hadn't been kidnapped, but had left of her own free will. Why hadn't he shared that? He paused and looked up, imagining the stars peppering the sky above his tent.
Why couldn't you just stay put and make the most of what you had? he asked silently. Why did you have to risk everything and put me in a position where I'm keeping secrets from the Elders?
Despite his resentment, he still hoped Téana was safe wherever she was.
Hondo's eyes snapped open. His breathing was shallow and rapid, until he realised he wasn't under attack. Makalani's eyes peered down at him from between the folds of his howli; the headdress made from long folds of linen they each wore to protect their faces against the sand and wind. Tufts of dark hair poked out. Hondo found himself staring as his eyes became accustomed to the near-darkness.
"Time to get up," Makalani whispered.
"What? It's barely dawn! There are still predators about, and the camels won't be fully rested from yesterday yet."
"Usi's orders. He wants to cover as much ground as possible before the heats of the day sets in. He says the camels can rest then. Watch out for snakes and scorpions. I found one only a handbreadth from my face when I woke up. Nearly wet myself." He sniggered. "Uh, don't tell Usi I said that."
Hondo grumbled but busied himself breaking their tiny camp. There wasn't much to do, since they were travelling so light, but with each task his heart became heavier. He faced yet another day of chasing the four runaways, with nothing but the prospect of disgrace if they didn't catch them, and the death of his best friend if they did. It chafed like a badly fitting bridle that it had fallen to him to bring Jono back for execution. And for what crime? Caring for his sister? Not agreeing with the Elders' decision to murder her? Hondo liked Seren. She may not have been wife material, but she was kind and good. He always felt better after talking with her. Her predicament was a constant reminder why he should be grateful for his own blessings. And what of Maibe? Or Téana? What kind of punishment did they face when the Elders got hold of them? He shuddered to think. It was likely Maibe would be ritually scared as punishment. Even though Téana had been kidnapped, she would probably be awarded to Usi as his wife for him bringing her back. Nobody else had a claim on her yet, after all.
"Hondo." As if on cue, Usi's deep voice pierced the early morning air. His broad shoulders and thick dark hair appeared over the dune. He looked handsome until you saw his face. Usi had well-made features offset by heavy eyebrows, but there was no warmth or sincerity there. Hondo looked into Usi's eyes and saw nothing but arrogance and malice staring back at him.
"Yes, sir?" Usi always insisted they call him sir to make sure they remember he was only one who had passed the Warrior Test.
Usi's voice was deceptively affable. "You know Jono better than any of us, don't you? You've been friends since you were children, right?"
"Um, yes sir." Hondo wondered where Usi was going with this.
"You must know his mind inside-out. What do you think his next logical move would be?"
Hondo hesitated. He desperately wanted to advance up the ranks of the tribe and become a full warrior. It was the best way to gain respect and prove himself a man. He and Jono had dreamed of the day when they passed the Test. They had made plans for how much they would eat and drink to celebrate. It was cruel and unfair that the only way Hondo would ever make their dream a reality was to rob Jono of all his dreams. For a second Hondo wondered if he should lie. He could say Jono would head for the nearest oasis, or trying circle back towards the camp to throw off any pursuers. He could say anything he wanted. Usi wouldn't know the difference.
"Hondo?" Makalani cut in. Hondo looked helplessly at him. Makalani's dreams of passing the Warrior Test hinged on this too. He had done nothing to deserve the disgrace of failure. It was an impossible situation.
Hondo sighed. "He'd stick to the mountains to avoid leaving tracks. That way they don't have to travel so fast and Seren won't be pushed to her limits too quickly. They didn't take any pack animal for her to ride. She's his greatest strength and his biggest weakness – she keeps him going, but slows him down."
Usi nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer. He gave a small but fierce smile. "Then we follow your informed judgement until we find more tracks to guide us. Come on now. The chase awaits."
Hondo moved off with nausea in the pit of his stomach. He reminded himself how badly he wanted to become a full warrior. Jono was the one who had abandoned the tribe. There could only be one consequence of that. Jono must have known that when he decided to leave. Jono had brought this on himself – and on Seren, Maibe and Téana. Whatever happened was all his own fault, not Hondo's. He had put Hondo in an impossible position. Hondo just trying to make the best of it. Why should he have to sacrifice everything he had ever worked for just because Jono had done this at the last minute?
He hoped that if he said these things enough times they would eventually block out the feeling that he had betrayed his best friend and condemned his three travelling companions to death and fates far worse.
To Be Continued …
Side-flings, Homages and Downright Rip-offs
As far as possible I've tried to use genuine Egyptian names for the past-selves of existing characters. In addition to the characters from the two previous stories, in this fic we have Hondo (meaning 'war'), who's obviously Honda. We also have Usi (meaning 'smoke'), who is the past-self of Ushio, the crooked hall monitor who beat up Jounouchi and Honda, prompting Yuugi to defend them and thus starting their friendship. The third member of the hunting party is Makalani (meaning 'clerk'), which is a play on the dub name Mako Tsunami (Ryota Kajiki in the original Japanese version, though I have to say he's one of the few character whose dub name I actually prefer). Finally, the three tribal Elders are Goza (past-self of Gozaburo Kaiba, the man who adopted Seto and Mokuba), Sindin (past-self of Sindin Otogi, otherwise known as Mr. Clown, otherwise known as Otogi's psychotic dad in the manga) and Pegas (past-self of Pegasus, whom we all know and love in all his campy, red-suited, wine-swilling glory).