A NEEDLE IS LOST

Citlali convinces Lomys to find her camp before they go looking for his brother and sister. It isn't difficult to convince him - although Citlali has to resort to her book to try and get across what she's saying, and although she's sure he isn't quite understanding, Lomys doesn't fight her. After an initial round of sobbing he seems fond of silence.

Citlali herself feels numb. They don't have time to burn Akatzin or bury Cleyton and Layla - Lomys indicates that the men may return to avenge their fallen comrades. So she busies her mind with gathering up her supplies and Akatzins supplies - he won't need them anymore - and planning out the route back to the Left Eye of Tlon. Rations on the ship are low, so they may not have much to eat, but at least there they'll be safe from the bandits. In any case, she must report the death of Akatzin to guarantee his family back home will learn of his fate, and so as to better prepare the flotilla for what they might find on this savage land.

As they leave the little cottage on the farm behind Lomys takes one long last look back. At this distance, if one didn't know what had just occurred, the place would look peaceful. In the sky, back behind the cottage toward the west, tall thunder heads begin to gather and move toward the sun. Citlali can smell rain on the wind.

"This way," she says to Lomys. They're seated on his deer-beast and he holds its restraints. Her voice snaps him back from his pondering.

[[Rain,]] says Lomys in his native tongue. This word Citlali remembers from playing with Cassandra and Leander.

[[Rain,]] Citlali agrees.

The wind picks up and brings a chill to the day. After a few hours ride they come upon the grove where Citlali and Akatzin first set up camp. Everything seems to be accounted for: two tents, two bedrolls, some rations from the voyage, and two satchels for each of the two Needles - each containing an assortment of finer tools. It's the locations of these last that Citlali secures first.

Inside the satchel there is: a delicate compass, shaking with the tiniest movements of her hand. Three perfectly circular gold coins, shiny and clean, for trade. Some parchment and ink for record keeping or map making. A small wooden box containing two compartments: one for flint, the other for tinder. One roll of cheap cotton for bandages. And of course the fine needle with a strong thread, just as good for mending clothes as people.

With everything in hand it would be best to depart now for the coast. The Left Eye of Tlon will be circling, waiting for both pairs of its Needles to return to the drop off points. Or it may have even dropped anchor if the tlatoani decided to establish a camp on dry land. But the day is late and the low clouds have swallowed up most of the sky. Tonight they'll have to sleep here.

Lomys ties up the deer to a nearby tree and starts a fire. Citlali wonders if this is a good idea given there are people looking for them but the evening is cold enough that she raises no protest. Not that it ends up mattering much - within a few minutes the rain begins and the fire fizzles out.

Laying in her bedroll is when the crushing weight of what's occurred first feels as if it presses on Citlali's mind. The texture of her memories of what happened earlier just that day is intricate, detailed, but also thin and bare, fast and slow all at once. Akatzin is dead. Lomys sleeps in his bedroll now, in that other tent across the way. His family is also dead. Others are dead too - one or two by her own hand.

A dream! A nightmare! Oh please let this be a nightmare, Citlali thinks to herself as she shivers from the cold. She closes her eyes tight as if she could will time to move backward, or sideways, or any way but how it went! She forces her mind with thoughts of other things to drown it out - of the milpa fields back home, of the City, of the sea, of the rain, of the cold, of anything else! Presently she remembers the training to become of Needle, of how they needed to practice camping out in the wilderness. There was one night back then when she was just this cold, when she got lost and had to take shelter in a damp cave one crisp autumn evening. Perhaps I'm still back there, she thinks to herself. Perhaps this has all been a fitful dream of a rough night. Perhaps, she hopes, when she opens her eyes she will once again see out of that cave's mouth at the verdant landscape of Ayamictlan.

But alas, no such luck.

The rain continues down in the morning in the same unceasing beat as it did the night before. As Citlali rises out of her bedroll she shivers at the coolness of the air. The tents still hold strong thankfully and they had the forethought to keep everything within the tents but outside there are large puddles all around the camp.

Across the way Citlali sees Lomys, sitting at the edge of his tent looking outward, wrapping Akatzin's cloak around him for warmth.

[[We wouldn't make it to Cuy for two days,]] says Lomys, [[if we started now.]]

Citlali isn't near familiar enough with the indigene tongue to get anything besides the name of that town, Cuy.

[[No Cuy,]] says Citlali.

"We have to wait for the rain to stop," she says, [[rain, stop.]]

[[Yes,]] says Lomys, [[rain, stop.]]

He frowns and looks at ash from last night's campfire for a while.

When the rain doesn't let up, the two of them move from the grove to the larger forest nearby. To the north east according to Citlali's compass. The tree canopy is thicker there and provides much better cover for themselves and for the deer beast.

[[Beast,]] says Citlali pointing to the thing, [[beast is-]]

[[It's a horse,]] says Lomys, [[and her name is Dot. Because of the dots.]]

"Ah…", says Citlali.

[[Dot,]] says Lomys as he points to the beast.

[[Dot,]] says Citlali, [[Dot is good? Rain?]]

[[No,]] says Lomys, [[she doesn't like the rain. But she'll be alright.]]

Lomys produces an apple from his pack and feeds it to the deer. Once again he ties it up to a tree, giving it the occasional pat or sometimes clicking his tongue in order to get its attention. Or to command it? Citlali isn't sure. It still seems like magic to her, that a man could command a beast in such a way, to see such a large thing be so docile.

Though the canopy doesn't help altogether too much with the rain, in the end the trees absorb the powerful gusts so the wind doesn't bite at the flesh. Still, Citlali has a little trouble keeping the chill at bay. They didn't think the land they'd find would be so temperate - they thought they'd find something like Moe'Uhane again, something tropical, something not unlike home. And preparations were made with such in mind. But you can't prepare for everything.

"I'll help you find them," says Citlali.

Lomys doesn't realize he's being spoken to. He's lying down on his back, his head toward the front opening of his tent.

"Calissa and Leander," says Citlali, "I'll help you find them."

Lomys rises up now and looks over at her.

"When we find my people they'll have warriors," says Citlali, "if we tell them what happened and of how you helped me and Akatzin, they'll help get your siblings back."

She rummages through her things to find the book again. With the picture for 'search' - three human figures peering around at the ground around them - pointing out at Lomys she says: "I'll help you find them, Calissa and Lomys. My people will help."

[[My people help,]] she says, this time in his tongue, [[Calissa, Lomys.]]

[[Why aren't your people helping us now then,]] he says. He turns away from her and back to his contemplations.

[[We go,]] says Citlali, [[my people. We go.]]

Lomys looker over at her again.

[[You know where they are?]] he asks.

[[Not far,]] says Citlali.

Lomys looks down and thinks for a moment. He returns to laying on his back and staring upward.

"Needle," says Lomys.

"What?" asks Citlali.

"Needle," says Lomys, [[what does it mean?]]

Citlali turns to the page in the Book of Talking Leaves with the image of a needle and points to it. More than anything this appears to leave Lomys bewildered, but he gives no further protest and raises no further questions.

After the rain clears they walk some in what remains of the afternoon and then make camp for the night once more. The next morning is warm and they set out early toward the coast. When they arrive at the spot where Citlali and Akatzin first came aground she can spot the skiff they used to paddle ashore on the beach, hidden behind a tree in some brush. The view out toward the sea though is clear, without any ship visible out on the water.

"They make patrols," Citlali says to Lomys, [[we wait. My people not far.]]

But all that day nothing appears. They make camp further inland, away from the cold gusts coming off of the ocean water that night. Then there's another day without any ship appearing on the horizon.

What food they brought with them starts to run out so Lomys spends the next morning setting up traps for rabbits amongst the scattered bushes and trees. Citlali didn't think to worry about what to eat, she had full faith that the Left Eye of Tlon would still be waiting for them at the drop off point. Or that it would come back. The rain they had faced days before might have been a storm out here on the coast, Citlali thinks to herself, it might have forced the ship to find somewhere safe to harbor. Even if so, how far could it have driven them?

What if they don't come back?

There is guidance for such situations - the Needle is to remain at a distance from the indigene, and to remain as vague as possible in the descriptions of their own background. The suggestion is to say that one is a wandering merchant, trading only to remain wandering; be cagey about one's precise origins. The indigene could take things the wrong way - it could lead to another Moe'Uhane War. Without a regiment of Blades at one's back, and perhaps some ships to add to the leverage, the indigene can not be safely inducted into the service of the empire. If they think they can do so then for only a trifle of blood will they kill heretics so as to maintain their backwards ways. If they cannot win on strength then they may stop to listen to reason. And once they listen they will know of the benefits of being part of the Imperial Garden.

Presently it's late afternoon and Citlali stands on a sand dune looking out at the sea. Her compass tells her she is facing south east and indeed, out in the distance she can see the darkness grow as the sun sets behind her. If they were coming out this way they would have done so by now, while there was light enough to see.

When she returns to the camp Lomys is skinning a couple of rabbits and minding a fire.

[[Well?]] he asks.

Citlali shakes her head. He nods in acknowledgement, pauses for a moment, then returns to skinning. Citlali wants to say something to him, to comfort him, maybe to comfort herself - she needs to tell someone Akatzin is dead. Lomys already knows of course, but she never said the words, and the words need to be said so that they can be made real.

"Akatzin is dead," says Citlali.

Lomys looks at her. They've each picked up a little bit of the other's language but with the way her voice shakes when she speaks she imagines he'd know what she said even if they'd never met before.

[[My family is dead,]] says Lomys. He stops what he's doing and gazes into the fire for a while.

"My people will come," says Citlali, "and they'll help us find your brother and sister. They'll rescue us from this jungle."

She doesn't know if this is a lie.