Forged in Fire, page 5
Pinned underneath her, excruciatingly aware of her, the only thing Aven could do was nod in agreement.
CHAPTER FIVE
ARIA PEEKED INTO THE hammock and smiled. Aven was still deeply asleep, his hair trailing across his face. She gently brushed the hair back, then left him alone.
“He’s still out?” Owyn asked. He was sitting on the sand between the remains of their fire and the rock enclosure where he’d hung the hammock. Memfis was repacking their supplies and making a list of what they’d need when they reached the village.
“He was exhausted by the time he got back,” Aria answered. She sat down next to Owyn, leaning into his arm, reaching out and petting Trinket on Owyn’s knee. “He was asleep almost before he was in the hammock.” She stared out at the water, not mentioning the way she’d welcomed him back. She wasn’t sure why she was keeping it to herself. Owyn wouldn’t mind, surely. If anything had happened, he’d probably have been more annoyed that they hadn’t woken him so that he could watch! “He’ll be starving when he wakes up,” she added. “I’m not sure what we left for him will be enough.”
“It’ll have to be,” Owyn answered. “We won’t have anything else until we get to that village. Unless we hunt...” He frowned. “Or fish. You lived on the canoe with him. Do you know how to fish?”
“Not the way they do it,” Aria answered. “They used nets and spears underwater. I’m not sure about how to do it from land. I know how to open oysters. But I don’t know how to tell where to find them.”
Owyn nodded slowly. Then he perked up. “How about crabs? Aven said there were crabs in... in where we found that poor bastard. You can eat crabs, can’t you?”
“Me?” Aria asked. “Or us?”
“Us.” Owyn moved Trinket to his shirt pocket. Then he got to his feet and brushed the sand off his trousers. “I’m pretty sure we can eat them. Come on. Let’s go see if we can find some.”
Aria got up and followed him down the beach and around the rocks. It seemed like a good idea. She just hoped that Memfis knew what to do to prepare crabs — it didn’t seem fair to make Aven prepare his own meal, even if he didn’t have to catch it. By the time she caught up with Owyn, they were around the rocks and into the sheltered cavern where Owyn and Aven had found the body. Owyn was standing near the edge of the pool of water, frowning.
“Now what?” he asked as she came closer.
“It was your idea,” she pointed out. “Do you not know how to do it?”
Owyn grimaced. “I was kinda hoping you did. You hunt. Aven hunts. I’ve never hunted before, and where I’m from, catching crabs has a whole ‘nother meaning.”
Aria blinked. “What does it mean?”
He blinked. “You don’t know? Right...well, it’s not a good thing. That’s all I’m going to say. So what do we do?”
Aria frowned, seeing movement around the edge of the pool. “Do we have a net? Or a bag? Something to catch them in?”
Owyn snorted. “It can’t be that hard,” he answered. “I mean, they’re little.” He walked closer to the edge of the pool, stooped, and grabbed. “Got one!” he crowed as he started to stand up. Then he howled, shaking his hand wildly. Aria saw something go flying, then Owyn was somehow behind her.
“It bit me!” He held his hand out, showing that it was streaked in blood. “Look at this?”
“What are you two doing?”
Aria turned, seeing Aven behind them. He was shirtless, barefoot, still looking half-asleep. He was frowning, but his eyes widened when he saw the blood on Owyn’s hand.
“It bit me!” Owyn repeated. “We were trying to catch crabs, and one bit me!”
“It didn’t bite,” Aven said as he came closer. “It pinched you. The claws are much stronger than you’d think for their size. Why were you hunting crabs?” He took Owyn’s hand and examined it. “It’s not bad. So, why crabs?”
“In case you were still hungry when you finished the last of the stew from last night,” Aria said. “We didn’t think what was left would be enough.”
Aven’s jaw dropped. “You were hunting crabs for me?” he asked. “I... you didn’t have to do that! The stew was fine.”
Aria blinked. “You’ve been awake long enough to eat?”
“I woke up when you brushed my hair back,” Aven answered. He smiled slightly, met her eyes, then looked down. “You both went off by the time I was awake enough to get out of the hammock. You were right about how hungry I’d be. I ate fast enough that I don’t think I tasted it.” He looked at Owyn’s hand in his, raised it to his lips and kissed the wound. When he lowered Owyn’s hand, the cut was closed.
“Oh, now you’re just showing off!” Owyn teased. Aven laughed.
“A little. Thank you. That was really sweet. And you need a crab trap if you want to do it right.”
Aria sniffed. “We do not have crabs in the mountains. I’ve never done this before. And crabs in Forge are not something you want to catch.”
Aven blinked, then looked at Owyn. “There are crabs in Forge?”
To Aria’s surprise, Owyn turned bright red. He tugged his hand out of Aven’s and stepped away. “I... ah... never mind. Just... never mind. Let’s go see if Mem needs us or something.” Stammering, Owyn hurried away.
“I said something wrong,” Aven murmured as he watched Owyn go. “I’m not sure what I said, but I said something wrong. What was that about crabs in Forge? I wouldn’t have thought that crabs would live in the city. There’s no water.” He looked at Aria. “Should we ask Memfis?”
“Unless we want to be confused the rest of the day,” Aria answered. She took Aven’s hand and led him out of the cavern. They could see Memfis loading the packhorse, and beyond him, Owyn was currying his horse, Freckles.
Memfis looked up as they came closer. “What’s happening? I thought I heard Owyn shout?”
“He was pinched by a crab,” Aven answered. “Memfis, are there crabs in Forge?”
“Crabs? In Forge?” Memfis stopped and looked at them both. “Aven, you should know this better than anyone. There aren’t any crabs in Forge. Now what’s this about? From the beginning.”
Aria frowned. “Owyn and I were trying to catch crabs, so we could have something else for Aven to eat if he was still hungry. Neither of us knew what we were doing. There are no crabs in the mountains, and Owyn said that the crabs in Forge are different.”
Memfis looked over his shoulder at Owyn. Then he looked back at Aria. “What did he say, exactly?”
Aria thought about it. “He said that crabs in Forge are not something that you would want to catch.”
To Aria’s shock, Memfis burst out laughing. He got himself under control quickly, but had to wipe his eyes. "Oh! Oh, I... Aria, he meant lice!”
“Lice?” Aria looked at Aven, then at Owyn. Even from here, she could see that his skin was bright red. “Then why didn’t he say so?”
“He may not have known there’s another name for them,” Memfis said, his voice sounding oddly strangled. “It’s a... specific kind of lice. They’re something you can get when you’re not careful about who you lie down with.” He shook his head. “Given what he was doing to survive? He probably had them at least once, although he never mentioned it to me. I don’t think it would be something he’d be comfortable talking about.”
Aria’s insides twisted. “And I embarrassed him.”
“I think we both did,” Aven said. “Come on. Let’s go talk to him.”
Owyn didn’t turn away from his work as they walked up the beach toward him, brushing Freckles with what seemed to be single-minded intensity. “Owyn?” Aria said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I figured that out,” Owyn grumbled. “Fishie, how come you didn’t know?”
“I did, once Memfis told us what you were talking about,” Aven admitted. “I just didn’t know that name for it. And I’ve never seen it — I just learned about it as part of my training.”
Owyn nodded. He didn’t turn. “I... you know, it’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair?” Aven asked. “And how’s your hand?”
“Fine. It’s fine. And... look, I have to say this to the horse, cause I can’t say it to your faces. Either of you. But it’s not fair. I’ve know you both... what? Not even fifteen days? It’s not supposed to be like this!”
Aria looked up at Aven, who nodded. “You mean about how close we are already?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Owyn breathed. He rested the curry comb on Freckles’ neck. “I mean, I don’t trust nobody. Not anybody. Cause I learned early I can’t.”
“Not even Memfis?” Aria asked. Owyn sighed, then shook his head.
“Not really. Not completely. Too many times I did, and I got hurt. You know?” He paused. “No. Of course you don’t know. But anyhow, that’s me. I don’t... except for you two. You both... it’s like you’re inside of me. I don’t know how to feel about that. Except that it’s not fair. I didn’t get to decide I wanted to trust you.” He turned around and looked at them, and Aria saw for the first time that his eyes were red. “I just do. And I keep opening my mouth and saying things I shouldn’t say, then part of me is waiting to get thrown out because of it, and part of me is ashamed of thinking like that, because you’d never do that to me.” He wrapped his arms around his chest, then reached up and touched the fire gem that sat in the hollow of his throat. “I mean, I know you won’t. This means I’m part of something. Part of something good. I know you won’t tell me you don’t want me anymore. But I don’t believe it, you understand? Because I just... I don’t know how to be part of something real.”
Aria stepped closer. She kept her hands clasped in front of her, suddenly afraid that if she reached for Owyn, he’d run. “Owyn, none of us know how this is done,” she said. “None of us have ever been part of something like this.”
“We can’t even compare to the other Companions,” Aven added. “My father told me that when he and Ama were Milon’s Companions, it was the better part of a year before anyone but Milon and Memfis were sharing beds. We don’t have the time to grow together the way they did. So the Mother... she’s forcing it. And yes, it’s uncomfortable.”
Aria turned to look at him. “You think so, too?”
Aven shrugged. “You hear songs about fated love, old stories about it. And you think, that’s not real. No one does that. No one looks at someone and says ‘that’s my forever.’” He grinned. “And then we did. So it’s strange. But the idea of turning away from it, that’s worse. I couldn’t give you two up, any more than I could give up breathing.”
Owyn snorted. “Yeah. That’s... that’s about right.”
“And it’s going to be like this with the others, too,” Aven added. “So once we find our Earth and our Air, we’ll be four times as uncomfortable.” He frowned. “Five times?”
“A shitload,” Owyn offered. “We’ll be a shitload more uncomfortable. For a little while. I just... I have to get my head around it.” He looked down at the currycomb in his hand. “I’m the odd tooth in the gear right now. But I’ll figure it out.”
“We all will,” Aria told him. “Together.” She reached out and touched his arm, and when he didn’t move, slipped her arm into his. He shifted, tugging his arm free, then putting it around her waist. He held his other arm out to Aven.
“C’mere, Fishie,” he called.
Aven joined them, wrapping his long arms around them both. Aria closed her eyes, enjoying their warmth. But curiosity got the better of her.
“Owyn, may I ask two questions?” she asked. He stiffened.
“If the first one is did I have them? Yes. Twice. It’s miserable.”
Aven grimaced. “There’s a special soap for that. I know how to make it. It won’t happen again.”
“Since neither of you have them, we don’t have to worry about it until we find the other two. And hopefully, we won’t have to worry about it then,” Owyn said. “What’s the other question, Aria?”
“Exactly how big is a shitload?” she asked. The question did exactly what she’d hoped it would — Owyn’s eyes widened, and he burst into wild peals of giggles that knocked him off his feet. The laughter was contagious, and before too long, the three of them were all laughing in the sand. Memfis came over, looked at them, then shook his head and walked away.
THERE WERE STILL RANDOM giggles as they worked together to saddle the horses. Aven went down to the water’s edge and refilled his water skin, coming back and hanging it from his saddle before sitting down in the sand. He picked up one boot, then looked out over the water.
“Fishie?” Owyn asked. He stood behind Aven, his shins pressed against Aven’s back. “You’ll get back out there.”
“I know,” Aven said. He tipped his head back to look up. “Wishing I had time for one more swim. But we don’t. We’re late getting on the road already. How long will it take us to get to this village?”
Owyn looked up at the sun, judging angles and thinking about the map. “We’ll have... maybe an hour or two of daylight once we get there?” he guessed. “We might have to camp and go into the village tomorrow.” He frowned and turned, seeing Memfis cinching the last pack onto the packhorse. Aria’s horse was already on a leading rein, attached to Memfis’ Dasher. “Mem, how are we doing that, anyway? We can’t all go in to market.”
“I’ll think about it, and let you know,” Memfis answered. “Are we ready?”
Aven tugged on his second boot, then got to his feet. “I’m ready. Is Aria on sentry?”
Memfis nodded and gestured to the sky. “There’s nothing there, or she’d have come and told us by now.”
Aven looked up and saw Aria circling. “That’s a problem, isn’t it?” he asked.
Owyn stopped in the middle of turning toward Freckles and Cloud. “Why would it be a problem that no one is behind us?” he asked. He paused. “Which... that don’t make sense. You’re right. It’s wrong. They want us. Why aren’t they chasing us?”
“That’s another question we’ll think about as we ride,” Memfis said. “For now, I want more distance between us and Forge. Let’s go.” He swung himself up onto Dasher and turned toward the switchback trail.
“Oh,” Aven murmured. “We have to go back up that trail.”
“Just take it slow, and lean forward,” Owyn said. “Hold on to the saddle horn, and let Cloud do the work. She knows what she’s doing.”
“I don’t know what she’s doing,” Aven grumbled. He went and mounted his horse, turning her head toward the trail. “Are you in front of me, or behind?”
“I’ll take the tail end,” Owyn said. “Go on. And just take it slow.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE SHADOWS WERE GETTING longer and Aven’s stomach was getting louder when Owyn drew his horse up alongside Aven’s. “So how do you do it?” he asked.
“Do what?” Aven asked in response, after it was clear that Owyn wasn’t going to add anything else to his question. On his other side, Aria laughed.
“He wasn’t there for our conversation, Owyn,” she said. “He doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh. Right,” Own chuckled. “I asked Aria, and she said she didn’t know. How do you communicate when you’ve got your tail on?”
Aven laughed and watched as Cloud’s ears flicked back toward him. “When I have my tail on?” he repeated. “I like that.” He grinned. “Well, there are two ways. The first is sounds that you don’t need a voice to make. Clicks and whistles, that sort of thing.” He trilled at them, then same way he’d have done to Melody, and watched Owyn’s eyes widen.
“That works?” he asked. “What does it mean?”
“We use the vocalizations mostly for simple alerts. Warnings. We’ll use drums the same way. Now, with water-cats, that trill is a sort of family identification. Each pod has a slightly different one. Different in pitch, or in length, or in modulation.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think they actually do talk to each other.”
“Do they really?” Aria asked. “How intelligent are they?”
“Very,” Aven answered. “We just haven’t learned their language yet. And they’re still learning ours.” He looked down at the reins in his hands. “If I drop these, will Cloud run away with me? I need both hands to show you the other way.”
“Wrap them around your saddle horn,” Owyn said. “Besides, it’s late, and she’s tired. She won’t run.”
Aven did as Owyn instructed, then flexed his fingers and started moving, using the gestural language that the Water tribes used underwater. He wasn’t used to signing to more than one person — how did you use the proper facial expressions when the person you were signing to couldn’t see your face? But he did the best he could, and dropped his hands at the end.
“That... that meant something? All that waving around meant something?” Owyn gasped. “What did that mean?”
“That meant that it’s been a long day of travel.” He repeated one gesture, a graceful motion that mimicked swimming. “And that I’m hungry.”
“You’re showing them water signs?” Memfis called. “Your mother would never teach us!”
“Fa knows them. At least, he knows them now.” Aven frowned. “Did she say why she wouldn’t teach you then?”
“She said that her mother would use her guts for bait if she taught drylanders water signs,” Memfis answered.
“Well, my grandmother already wants to use my guts as bait. So I’ll do what I want.” He grinned at Owyn. “Does that answer the question?”
“And leads to one,” Owyn answered. “Can you teach me?”
“Teach us both,” Aria added. “I want to learn. It’s like dancing with your hands.”
Aven nodded. “I’ll teach you what I can. There are parts you can’t learn.”
Owyn looked thoughtful. Then he coughed. “You use your tail as part of the signs?”
“Body language is part of it,” Aven said with a nod. “What I can teach you are the facial expressions and the body grammar that doesn’t involve a tail. Because there’s a difference between this—” He made a series of gestures. “And this.” He made the same gestures, but finished with his head cocked to one side. “The first was a statement. The second was a question.”
