Chapter 27: Inside a Heart

They moved very slowly that day. Despite the fact that his wounds were small, Tarek tired easily, leaving Bachi and Tavi as the only ones who could forage. Tavi carried their sling and attempted to bring down birds as they went, but all he did was waste effort. Tarek was wearing the soft pants he’d stolen, but the exposed flesh on his back would not tolerate the touch of the shirt. He let Tavi put it on, even though it was comically large on the boy. The foliage grew sparser as they turned north toward Shinsok land. With less canopy overhead, more rain landed on their faces. Berries and shoots were also harder to find. They rested a fingerspan out of every hand and crept along at a slug’s pace the rest of the time.

“How did you get loose?” Tavi asked as they sat under an unfamiliar type of spreading frond tree. “I thought they’d have you under guard or something, and I had no idea how I was going to get you free.”

Tarek cleared his throat. He’d hardly spoken since Xochil left them. He wished he could say he hadn’t thought about Tavi’s question, but in truth, flashes of the time he’d spent under the torturer’s knife had been plaguing him all day.

“I hardly know how to describe it,” he admitted, his voice weak and graveled. “Sheer luck. Nothing I planned.” He twisted the ring on his finger. “I should have died there.”

“Do not die,” Pahtl said. “That would be boring.”

Tarek plucked the ring from his finger and handed it to his brother. “Nobody ever understood how the mist-harts disappear. There’s this strange bone in their hearts, but so what? There’s all sorts of weird things inside animals.”

“Fish have rocks inside them sometimes,” Pahtl advised them sagely.

“Right,” Tarek said with a tired chuckle. “Like that.”

Tavi rubbed the ring between his fingers. “What’s this black spot? I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“It wasn’t there before. When the Iktaka had me tied up, they… there was a man that cut me. Tried to get information from me. Some of my blood got on the ring.”

“Strange that it discolored the bone so badly,” Tavi said. “It was red already.”

Tarek stared blindly into the distance, not really hearing his brother. “I didn’t figure it out until just a bit ago. There was too much happening to even think about it. But I’m pretty sure that when my blood touched the ring, I turned into mist like the deer do.”

“That’s, um…” Bachi said. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I felt it happen. One heartbeat I was strung up and screaming and the next I was…” Tarek shrugged. “I thought maybe I’d gone mad and dreamt it. It felt that way. But then everyone started yelling and I just sort of, I don’t know, drifted away.”

Tavi was listening intently. “So your blood on the heart knuckle ring made it turn into mist? And you with it?”

“It’s the only thing that I can figure. How else could I escape the ropes?”

Tavi chewed on his lip, the old inquisitive spark in his eyes. “Do you think any blood would do, or does your blood magic interact with the heart knuckle somehow?”

Tarek shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“How certain are we about this turning-into-mist business?” Bachi asked, tugging his mustaches. “You had a, ah… difficult experience. Some of our old songs talk about battle madness. People can do impossible things when they’re in a fighting rage, like tear down a tree. That seems more likely than poofing into fog.”

“I do not like mist-harts,” Pahtl said. “Sneak up to scare them and there’s nothing there. So smug.”

Tarek reached over to scratch Pahtl’s blunt ears and addressed Bachi. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything I’d call battle madness. This didn’t feel like any kind of rage. I felt… scattered. Floaty. When I came back to myself, my loincloth was gone. And the piece of bone he’d shoved under my fingernail, too. Like it just fell out of me.”

Bachi shuddered and sucked on his own fingertip in sympathy.

“I think I almost died,” Tarek said, realizing it as he spoke. “It was hard to bring myself back together. Another few heartbeats and I’m pretty sure I would have just scattered into nothing and disappeared. That’s how it felt.”

Tavi stroked the smooth black spot that marred one side of the red ring. “It feels different here. Harder. Almost like metal.”

“Can you do it again?” Bachi asked. “Show us?”

“No,” Tarek said. “I’m not sure how I came back. I’m not going risk it just to experiment. I don’t think anyone else should, either.”

Tavi handed back the ring and Tarek slipped it onto his little finger, thinking of Yaretzi’s secret smile and perfect face. “If Yar hadn’t given it back to me, I would have died there.”

“You don’t think she knew, do you?” his brother asked.

Tarek wanted to stand but hadn’t the energy for it yet. Instead he stretched carefully, trying to not irritate the wound on his back or the puncture under his arm. “I can’t imagine. Nobody we’ve met knows anything about mist-harts. Or my blood magic.”

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“Except Xochil,” Bachi said. He gave Tavi an arch look. “Maybe next time we should be nicer.”

“I don’t like him,” Tavi said sullenly. “Pushing us around, trying to scare us.”

“Bachi’s right,” Tarek told him.

“He’s not telling us everything! Why exactly do we have to get him the blood by the equinox? There will be another soon enough. I don’t believe for a heartbeat that he’s only trying to help you.”

“Maybe not,” Tarek said, spinning the ring on his finger. “Still, at every turn I run into how much I don’t know about what I can do, and he seems to have the answers. If he shows up again, let’s not chase him off.”

Tavi’s jaw jutted stubbornly. “I thought the idea was to get rid of your magic.”

“It is, it is.”

Tavi sighed explosively, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration as he stood up jerkily and drew his knife from the thong at his hips. Tarek looked up, startled by the motion, and all he could focus on was the knife’s blade. His breath caught in his throat and his insides clenched. He scrambled back through the mud on hands and heels, heedless of the flaring pain in his still-fresh wounds. Take his skin take his skin echoed in his ears, and even though he knew it was just Tavi, he couldn’t control his limbs. He scuttled away, his lips peeled back from his teeth, breath coming in sobbing gasps, eyes locked on the knife. Where’d ye come from? How many? I think ye’ll like this one. A spy! His back bumped against a tree trunk, scraping against his flayed flesh, and he cried out in fear and pain.

Tavi held the knife loosely, his mouth agape. “What’s wrong?”

“He looks frightened,” Bachi said.

“He is,” Pahtl said, sounding concerned.

Tavi covered the ground between them in a handful of steps. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He tried to take Tarek by the arm, but Tarek jerked free convulsively, covering his face with his good arm, shaking uncontrollably. “Stop it, Tarek! You’re scaring me!”

“Put it away,” Tarek sobbed. Tears blurred his vision, but still he could see the knife in his mind’s eye. “Please. Please.”

“Put away the weapon, stupid cub!” Pahtl snapped, butting his head against Tavi’s calves. “He is sick in his head!”

Tavi fumbled the knife back into his waistband. “I was just going to cut some guaro stalks to make a bowstring.”

The tension drained from Tarek’s muscles, leaving him loose-limbed and twitchy. He clutched his arms to his sides, trying to still the shaking. “Sorry. I just… it’s because… sorry.” He pulled his legs in close and hugged them, resting his forehead against his knees. His tears soaked into the already-wet fabric of his stolen pants.

Tavi’s hand rested on his hair. “What did they do to you?” he asked softly.

Tarek could only shake his head.

Pahtl curled up at his side. “More sleep.”

“We’re barely halfway through the day!” Bachi protested.

“No, he’s right,” Tavi said. “Let’s find some underbrush that isn’t soaked for bedding. I wish we could start a fire. We’re far enough from the Iktaka that it would be all right.”

They stayed in that spot for the remainder of the day. Bachi shook the water out of some soft fern fronds and laid them right next to Tarek, who slumped onto his stomach in the pile and slept fitfully. Each time he woke Tavi was no more than an arm’s length away. The boy had taken off his knife and hidden it somewhere, and whenever Tarek roused, he stopped whatever he was doing and simply sat next to him, resting a light hand on Tarek’s head or arm or back. Pahtl licked at his wounds several more times, and Tarek bore it in silence. He couldn’t seem to find anything to say.

When he woke near dusk, a small fire was crackling cheerfully despite the gentle rain, and Tavi brought him two steaming little flatcakes. “Eat up. There was a big wimba tree that had a hollow full of dry sticks, and I found some good acorns. Pahtl scared some groundfowl and they left behind a clutch of eggs, and he saved a few for us. Bachi even got us some saltgrass.”

Tarek reached for the food carefully, not meeting his brother’s eyes. He bit into one of the bread cakes. It was warm and fluffy and salty, the acorns giving it a hint of bitterness. It tasted exactly like what their mamah had made for them thousands of times.

“I was going to cook some soup, but I didn’t know how to make it bad enough to taste like home,” Tavi joked.

Tarek gave a hiccupping laugh, his mouth still full of flatcake. Then the hitching sound gave way to gentle sobs. Tavi put his arms around him, and Tarek laid his head on the boy’s shoulder and cried. I’m never going to see Mamah again. Or Tata. Not ever. Will Yaretzi even care if I return?

“It’s okay,” Tavi said, his voice thick. “It’ll be okay.” Tears that were not Tarek’s joined his own, and the brothers wept together with the sky.

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