#ch 2_3

[listenerseries]

Dancing Shadows 3

Footsteps, the familiar clink and shift of flint snapping against flint. Across the cave, Amara can see sparks flickering, lighting up the space between the tall shadows inhabiting the cave. After a moment, a fire ignites, and the cave lights up again. She holds her breath for a second but finds no smoke clinging to the air—only heat. She blinks, then exhales.  Her shoulders release tension she did not know she held. 

They move away from the entrance of the cave, stepping closer to a floor covered with various blankets and furs.  If she turns her head, Amara can see packs and baskets, a set of traveler’s cookware, and some water in a pot resting in the far corner of the cave.  The blankets and furs make up a makeshift flooring, but also constitute bedding from the way they’re scattered.  A small cooking and drying area is set up by the fire at the far end of the cave, alongside a mat set, perhaps for dining.  It could almost be a home, she thinks.  

A few men glance over at them, some regarding Amara warily.  Most, however, bow their heads once or wave, then continue working.  Many hold children or entertain them, while others work on preserving meat and preparing food for the night.

Bii steps further into the cave and sits down on one of the furs far away from the men with a quiet sigh.  She keeps her eyes trained on the children, nonetheless, eyes moving from head to head.  Taro squirms out of her arms and pads over to Sori, who still stands closer to the entrance.  He teeters this way and that as he moves.

“Soriiiiiiii,” he says lazily, small eyes squinting as he smiles.  Amara turns as he passes and watches as Sori catches his floppy body in her arms. She smiles down at him and they rub noses in greeting.  “Keihei,” Taro smiles, “I wanna go up. Holdjooooo.”

“Want me to hold you?”  It sounds much more like “hol’ju,” with her accent.

“Holdjooo!” He makes a lazy sign with his hand, floppy and half-exaggerated, from what Amara can guess.

Sori smiles at him. She picks him up, then turns him upside down in her arms and takes a few steps closer to Bii, swinging him from side to side. He laughs and waves at his mother. “Like this?”

Taro is lost in a fit of giggles. He reaches out for Bii and she grabs him with a smile. Sori gently hands him over and greets her the same way she did Taro—with a touch of their noses. She takes a step back and her hands move quickly in front of her, flashing signs and shapes in the air. Bii looks to Amara once, then back to Sori. She shifts Taro closer to her chest to free up her hands, then sits back and crosses her legs. 

“The kids were okay,” Bii says, her hands moving as she speaks. “We might be running low on food, though. Amma said she doesn’t want to use the dry rations right now.”

Sori nods and signs again, her face neutral. Bii nods.

“Maybe tomorrow, the boys can go with you to look for fresh food.” She smiles at Sori, and beckons her to come closer. She rests her hand, much larger than Sori’s, on top of her little sister’s head and pats her. “You should rest up, though, if you want to go hunting with the others.”

Sori makes a face and signs to Bii again.  Bii clicks her tongue and gives Sori a meaningful look.

"You need to rest because you've been out all day."

Sori signs again, a little more insistently.

"We actually haven't quite been working as hard as you have," Bii replies evenly.  Her hand gestures are just as firm.  Amara can see that Sori isn't looking so much at Bii's eyes or face, but rather more at her hands as they gesture. "You've been outside all day.  We've been in here, taking care of the kids and preserving what's left of the last thing you found."

Sori starts to sign again.  Bii holds up a hand.

"I'm going to tell Amma if you keep arguing with me."

Sori pales.  Her brow furrows and she almost pouts before relenting.  Then, she stops.  She smiles at Bii and signs more excitedly this time, then taps her head twice and smiles.  Bii looks at her in surprise, then looks to Amara.

"Yeah," Bii says slowly, "if you...hit your head against Amara's, I do think that Amma's going to want to take a look at that."

Another woman, taller than Sori but shorter than Bii, walks over with an air of serene grace and authority. She pauses just beside Bii and smiles at her––a tired but affectionate thing.

“Planning on calling me over?”

Bii smiles at her, just a little.  “Your daughter is trying to argue with me about whether she should rest or not.”

The woman raises an eyebrow and looks to Sori, who looks betrayed.  Her long, near-black hair is tied back, though a few locks of it slip out and find their way to rest over her shoulder. Her dark eyes, a warm brown similar to rich earth after a summer rain, squint as she smiles at Sori. She reaches out and cups Sori’s cheek. 

“Getting into trouble again, I see.” She makes gestures as she talks as well, though only with her left hand.  Sori shrugs sheepishly and looks to the side.  The woman’s gaze drifts to Amara and offers her a calm, placid smile––different and more distant from the one she gave Bii. “I’ve heard of you from my wife,” she says. “Amara, I believe? My name is Wyn. Would you mind if I checked both yours and Sori’s heads for injury?”

Amara blinks at her owlishly. Wife?

“Oh, uh, sure,” she stutters. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve hit my head before so it’s not like this is a big deal.”

“Well,” Wyn says, ushering her further into the cave, “that’s not the most reassuring thing you could tell me.  But thank you for telling me, nonetheless. I’ll take that into account.”  She offers Sori her hand, and Sori takes it easily.  They walk together for a moment, Amara trailing behind them. Two men, taller than her, though one not as much, step into the space beneath the entrance and stand watch. She shifts her gaze back to the woman ahead of her, and grunts. Wyn leads them to a blanket spread out on the floor.  She brushes it off and gestures for Amara and Sori to sit down.

Amara plops herself down on the blanket, then blinks up at Wyn.  The blanket beneath her is softer than ones she remembers from home, and thicker.  A luxury, she thinks, though the word does not exist on her tongue.  It's something she almost sinks into as Wyn moves over to Sori and kneels down in front of her, inspecting her face.  She takes a step back, then signs, as well as speaks.

"Palms up."  Sori flips her hands up as instructed.  "No drawing on anything for the exam, yes?"  Sori nods.  Wyn nods approvingly.  "Good.  Now, then, the basic questions."  Wyn clears her throat, then signs and speaks.

"Dizziness? Nausea?"

Sori signs in response.  Wyn nods.  "Nothing past normal, mm?"  Sori shakes her head.  "And you can hear me, yes?"  She tugs her right ear, to indicate Sori’s.  Sori reaches up and touches her earlobe before nodding.  Wyn checks Sori's palms, then nods.  "That's good.  You can go back to collecting again.  I just wanted to check that much."

The rest of the exam is conducted in relative silence, with Wyn taking steps back to sign for Sori and Sori signs back in response.  After a while, Wyn nods again and pats her on the head.  She bends forward to brush noses with her and smiles, ruffling her hair, before standing and shifting to the side to look at Amara.

"Now then," she says.  "Same thing with you.  Can you answer my questions?"

Amara blinks.  She holds out her hands, palms up.  They shake, just a little.  "What, about the, uh, the nausea and whatever?"

Wyn nods.  She eyes Amara’s hands, but doesn’t take them.  "I'll try not to touch you unless I need to, or you want me to."

Amara nods slowly, lowering her hands. Wyn gives her a small, reassuring smile.

“Right. Tell me, any nausea, dizziness, things like that?”

“Uh,” Amara looks at her flatly. “I guess?” She rubs a tender spot on her head, then shrugs. “I get that a lot, though, not ‘cause I smashed heads with her.” She juts her chin out at Sori and winces.

Wyn nods slowly. “Right. How are your reflexes? Having a hard time hearing, seeing, smelling...tasting?”

Amara looks to the side. “Uh...” She balances her hand in the air. “Kinda?”

“Would you mind elaborating?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s what the dust is for.”

Wyn folds her hands and leans forward a bit, brow furrowed. “Dust?”

“Yeah, you know, like, metals and trees and shi—stuff. You know, stareaters?”

Wyn’s brow furrows further, then realization dawns on her face. “Right, astropathy. You’re an astropath? Or, a stareater, as you say.”

“Yeah. I can just spark ‘n’ fume some and I’m fine.”

Wyn nods slowly, then rubs her eyes. She puts her hands together, fingers touching her lips as she thinks. “So...any other recent head trauma?”

“I...don’t see why that’s relevant.”

“Well, I need to know if you have a history with head trauma.”

“I mean, the last four years have been head trauma.”  Amara grimaces. “My whole life, even. I mean, I’m Ohrak, we work the fields all day, and if we don’t, well. You don’t wanna know.” She rubs at a scar running down her face.  

Wyn looks at her quietly. It isn’t pity in her eyes, but her gaze is not devoid of sympathy. There’s something warm there, but Amara cannot place it. It only seems to speak of some distant passion she cannot yet name. Wyn speaks slowly.

“So, if that’s true, you’ve had quite a history with physical impact and injury.”

“That’s a way to put it.”

“We have children here.”

Amara glances around. She spots Taro, but others mill about. A couple men hold toddlers close, talking quietly amongst each other. Others play with older children. She looks back at Wyn, and says nothing.

“I’m not in the business of prying more than I need to,” Wyn tells her.  “So unless you want to tell me more about yourself now, so I can treat you better, the most I can ask you to do is ask you to...rest now. For your sake.”  Her voice is soft, and so are her eyes.

“I don’t even know who you people are.”

“You can take the time to ask before you rest, then.” Wyn does not speak unkindly. “And I’ll tell them to greet you as well. We have food here, and a few furs that can service as beds.”

Amara looks at her, bewildered. “Why? What’s wrong with you people?”  She covers her mouth and grimaces as she realizes what she said.  “Er, uh, I mean--“

Wyn raises an eyebrow. “Nothing yet, so far as I can tell. Can’t say the same about you…”

“That’s what I mean!” Amara says, a little louder than intended. Eyes shift to her direction, and she shrinks. “I mean...you don’t know me. Know what I do or what I’ve done. What if I’m--”

“If you’re bad,” Wyn says, “then we’ll deal with you. But you’re no Patrician.” She gives her a once over. “You’re no guard.” She takes in Amara’s oversized, shabby apparel. “And you’re starving.” Amara looks away.  Wyn leans forward. “The way I see it, Uakea saw that, and decided you could at least merit a chance. We’re willing to give you one.”

“How do you have the trust to spare?” She looks back out. The others have returned to taking care of the children. A man, willowy with messy hair, cradles a small child in his arms and sings softly. “You don’t look like you have anything to spare. Or, you shouldn’t.”

Wyn follows her gaze and bites her lip, thinking, for a second. She looks back at Amara. “Perhaps not,” she says. “But we can’t afford to kill unnecessarily. Can’t afford to get injured in a fight that doesn’t need to happen.” She gestures to Amara. “And neither can you.”

Wyn stands.  At once, Amara feels Sori’s eyes on her, dark and intense as they are, and she spares the girl a short glance. Sori does not waver. Amara looks away first. Wyn sighs, and pats Sori on her head.

“My prescription for you both is rest,” she declares. “The rest of us will take care of food. Uakea mentioned you brought a squirrel in, which should round out our fresh supplies for the evening.”

Amara scrambles. “You really don’t need to feed——“

“As I said, Amara, you are starving.” She turns. “I think it’d be wise to take the food we offer.” She takes a few steps away, then pauses. “If it should please you, I would like to schedule a check up with you later.  That is, if you decide to remain with us.” She gives Amara a small smile, bows, then turns away.

Amara leans back on her hands. Her right goes up and brushes her hair back.

“Sheez,” she huffs. “Musta died out there. This is all a dream or something.”

“Dreams aren’t this nice.”

Amara looks to her side and lifts an eyebrow in Sori’s direction. Sori does not so much look at Amara so much as she looks at her face or a point near to her, and Amara does not force her to make clearer eye contact, despite how intense she looked before. Instead, she leans further back and rests her back against the cave wall. 

“Guess I’m just dead, then.”

“Why?”

Amara glances towards her again, then looks back at the rest of the cave. “Well,” she says, lifting a hand and gesturing, “If I’m not dead, why’s everyone look so nice? Act so nice?”

“Because they are.”

Amara looks at her, watches her fold herself up and put her chin on her knees.  Sori’s hands still glow with that soft light, even as she appears to be resting.  Amara’s eyes trail away from her, and instead settle on Wyn.

Wyn glides, it seems, over the dirt floor to the place Uakea stands.  As though sensing Wyn as she approaches, Uakea turns and catches her.  Amara watches as Uakea sweeps Wyn up into her arms and nuzzles her nose, just the way Sori had with Bii and Taro.  But then, their foreheads touch, and it almost feels too intimate to watch.

But Amara can’t look away.  Not yet.

It’s as though she searches for a confirmation she isn’t aware of.  And as Uakea gentle dips Wyn, she gets the answer she’s looking for.

Uakea kisses her wife gently and passionately at once.  It’s something the men in the room turn away from, but the children haven’t learned to be embarrassed by yet.  

Amara, for her part, sits stunned.  Her hands come together and play with each other, until she realizes she’s staring and looks away again.  Right back to Sori, whose iron gaze returns to staring into her.

“Problem?” Sori prompts.  It is not unkind or unfriendly, but nothing she says sounds particularly different from each other.

“What?” Amara blinks.  “Oh, uh, no, no. Not…no. It’s nothing.”  She tries not to point, instead opting to lift a hand and gesture vaguely.  “It’s…well, you don’t see that a lot back home.”

“Yeah?”  Sori looks at her intently.  Amara almost bristles.

“Well, no.  Marriage’s s’posed to be between a man and woman, you know?”

“No.”  Sori’s word is simple, concise, and utterly decimating.  Amara almost blushes at the firmness of it.

“That’s what...well, it’s what I learned.”

“The people that taught you are allowed to be wrong,” Sori says. The barest of smiles sits upon her lips. “But they better smarten up quick.”

Amara looks at her. “Is that a joke?”

“Maybe.” Sori’s little smile takes on a sort of dangerous quality, but it’s like a puppy playing with another—no seriousness, really.

 Amara smiles back at her, then settles in her spot and leans back against the cave wall, brushing her hair back. She sighs. A dull pain throbs in her head, and she closes her eyes. 

Sori taps her shoulder. Slowly, Amara turns her head. She opens one eye and quirks a brow.

“Wake you when food’s ready,” Sori says, speaking with her hands as she does. “‘Kay?”

Amara turns and closes her eyes again and nods. She gives Sori a thumbs up.

Sori reaches out and takes the thumb between her forefinger and thumb, pinching it. Amara looks at her again, and finds her staring at her inquisitively.

“This means...’okay’?” Sori quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Amara says. “Yeah. I forgot you don’t...” She trails off. “Yeah it does,” she says instead. “Thumbs up.” She grins.

Sori looks at her a moment, then smiles genuinely, her eyes squinting shut. “Thumbs up,” she replies, voice quiet and happy. She puts up her thumbs in the air, then turns and gets up. 

Amara watches her trot back to Bii and show her what she learned. “Thumbs up!” Bii looks over to Amara and waves.

She returns the wave, then lets her hand fall back on her stomach as she drifts off.

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