Between Them

At dinner that night, by the fire Kir had built between Savva’s camp and the Wanderer camp, Kana was disturbingly helpful, flitting here and there, arranging the food and woven grass mats on which to sit, pouring cool water into drinking bowls and smiling sweetly whenever Kir tried to help her.

He and Andrev sat opposite each other beside the fire, glaring at each other. This far from the Wanderer camp, Andrev kept his head bowed, kept his hair in his eyes. Kir held his head high and tried to smile at Kana.

She sat between them. “Ready to eat?”

Frighteningly Lucid

After Andrev spoke to Rastaban, he spent the rest of his day with the reindeer he usually tended with Savva’s tribe, avoiding humans at all costs. He was utterly confused; a girl wanted his favor.

Kana was a beautiful girl, and Andrev knew that he and Kir weren’t the only ones who had noticed; Andrev had seen the way the other hunters stared that night at the feast when Kana had danced by the fire.


And maybe - maybe Kana wasn’t entirely mad. She had her frighteningly lucid moments when she did things like - like kiss him.

And she had magic.

Like

“Because I like you,” Kana said. She reached out and sketched a couple of lines in the dirt, murmured a soft word, and then the logs in the fire pit blazed.

Andrev stared at her hand.

She turned to stare at him. “I like you,” she said, “and I’m like you.”

“I can’t do that,” Andrev said.

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Kana said. Then, before Andrev knew what was what, she leaned in and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

Andrev’s eyes fluttered closed, and he reached for her, but she pulled back.

“Rastaban’s calling you. I’ll finish cooking.”

Token

Andrev blinked. “You want me to wear...?”

“One of my tokens,” Kana said. She slipped the bracelet off her wrist and over his knuckles, onto his wrist before he could protest. Then she beamed at him and proceeded to spit the pheasant with a sharpened, cleaned stick.

Andrev stared down at the trinket on his wrist, confused. “Kana, surely you know tonight that Kir is seeking your favor.”

“I do know,” Kana said, “but it’s not his favor I want.”

Andrev swallowed hard. Something strange was going on. This had to be a joke. “Why would you want my favor?”

Memories of a Most Elaborate Lie

“You work very slowly,” Rastaban said.

Kana cast him a look. “These things take time to build.”

Rastaban closed his eyes and thought of the time he’d lived in Kana’s village, the most peaceful time of his life, and how it had been a most elaborate lie. “You’d know better than I would.”

And then Andrev knelt down beside the main fire and handed Kana the plucked and cleaned pheasant. She smiled at him, and together they set to cooking.

As they worked, Kana said, “Tonight, will you wear this?” She stretched out one hand and showed him a bracelet.

If Kana Weren't

Kir shot Andrev a look, silently ordering him to refuse.

Kana, however, had intercepted the exchange and was waiting, poised to dash off after another butterfly should she find Kir uninteresting.

Kir took a deep breath. “Of course. Any friend of the Wanderers is a friend of ours.”

“He should be your friend already,” Kana said. “After all, he’s from your tribe.”

If Kana weren’t so pretty and such a challenge, Kir might have struck her by now. Instead, he hefted the rabbits and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder,

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight,” Kana agreed quietly.

Sharing

Kana reached out and prodded one of the rabbits thoughtfully. Then she tilted her head to the side and considered Kir. And then she prodded the pheasant Andrev was carrying.

“Thanks but no thanks. We caught a pheasant! See? You shouldn’t let your clan you hungry,” she said.

Kir’s smile tightened. “My tribe is well-fed. I brought these for you.”

Kana’s face screwed up in an expression of adorable confusion. “I can’t eat all of those by myself.”

“You could share them, if you like,” Kir said. “I would be willing to share my fire.”

“Could Andrev share too?”

Laborious Fruit

Andrev killed the pheasant to avoid conversation, and then he led Kana through the grass to where several more roosted.

They headed back to the Wanderer camp by midday. Kana’s lucid interlude seemed little more than a dream as she gamboled beside him, in pursuit of a hummingbird.

Andrev kept playing her words over and over in his head, and he was so distracted that he almost walked into Kir.

Who sneered at him.

And then flashed a charming smile at Kana.

“Maiden,” Kir said, “I offer you the fruits of my labors.”

He held out a brace of rabbits.

Surprisingly Lucid

Andrev wrenched himself away from her. Something in his chest, something that wound tight whenever Kana came too close, shattered. He could feel the shards in his lungs, stabbing every time he took a breath.

“Why do you say things like that?”

Kana shrugged. “Because they’re true.” She smiled at him, the expression gentle and surprisingly lucid. “What else can you do? Do animals talk to you?”

Andrev opened his mouth to explain that animals didn’t talk per se, didn’t have words like humans did, and then he closed his mouth so sharply his teeth clicked. He couldn’t tell her.

Some Kind Of Beautiful

Andrev shook his head. “Power? No. A curse? Yes.”

“Savva told us you are a gift from the gods.”

“They actually think I’m demon spawn.” Andrev sighed and considered the pheasant. He didn’t think it was sporting, to kill it when he had a hold over it.

Kana stepped closer to him, brushed the hair out of his eyes. He flinched and drew back, went to ward her away, but she reached up and actually touched his forehead.

Most people shied away, as if his horns would burn them, but Kana didn’t care.

She said, “You’re some kind of beautiful.”

What It Means

The pheasant froze mid-peck, then obediently plopped down into the grass and fluffed her feathers as if she were nesting.

Kana stared at Andrev some more. “Did you do that?”

Andrev crossed the grass, picked up his spear. He swallowed hard. “Do what?”

“Talk to the bird. Make it stop.” Kana prowled closer to him, and she had that look on her face again like he was some bright, colorful butterfly.

“What if I did?” Andrev knew he was being defensive and mean, but couldn’t she just be grateful and move on?

“It means you have power,” Kana said.

Second Reaction

As a general rule, Kana was a very fine hunter for a girl, and none of the Wanderers seemed to care that a girl hunted, but her ability to get distracted by the slightest thing - in this case a tiny blue blossom swaying in the tall green grass - was dangerous.

Because she almost got killed.

By an angry pheasant.

Andrev acted first, whipped his spear through the air. No good - the pheasant was faster.

His second reaction was perhaps the better one - reaching out, tamping into the animal’s mind and ordering it to halt.

It did.

Kana stared at him.

Scream Or Weep

Andrev didn’t know how to ask, wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“Kana.”

She was trotting ahead, gamboling in the grass and likely scaring away any game they might find.

Andrev sighed. “Kana.”

She turned and trotted backwards, grinning at him like a puppy, like it was a game.

“Are you going to let Kir court you?” Andrev regretted the words as soon as they fell from his lips.

Kana paused, tilted her head to one side quizzically. “Kir? The hunter? Maybe. He is a fine hunter.” And she darted on.

Andrev wanted to scream - or weep.

A Girl So Scary

Andrev awoke sharply, one hand going for his spear, the other for his flint knife.

Kana stood over him, holding her own spear and smiling quizzically at him.

“Is a girl so scary, hunter-friend?”

Andrev rubbed at his eyes and then realized that it was still dark. “It’s the middle of the night. What d’you want?”

“Pheasants,” Kana said. “The women told me so.”

Andrev squinted at the skyline and saw that Kana wasn’t entirely mad; the sun was on its way.

“I thought we had more than enough pheasants.”

“Not after the feast. Come on! Time to hunt.”

Green-Eyed Demon

“You would have me draw in Kir and see what of his gifts Andrev offers up in return?” Kana couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice.

“You think my plan unsound?” Rastaban asked.

Kana shrugged, hunched her shoulders. “You’re in command - it’s time to prove yourself as a tactician, after all.”

“I think I proved myself the superior tactician during our last battle,” Rastaban said.

“And yet here you are, working with Old Master, one of the undying.” Kana smudged the kohl away from her eyes; in the firelight she looked tired. “The green-eyed demon it is, then.”

Drawing Out the Boy

“You told him you have magic?” Kana asked. She and Rastaban sat by the fire long after the others had gone to sleep.

Kana glanced over her shoulder toward the small pallet of furs were Andrev made his bed, still on the border between two camps, two worlds.

“What else would you call it?” Rastaban asked.

“A gift that’s certainly not magic,” Kana said.

“You have magic, I have gifts - I didn’t want to overcomplicate things,” Rastaban said.

“What’s your plan, then?” Kana was slowly unfastening the yards of silk and coins.

“Draw the boy out - see what he’s got.”

No Token From Me

Andrev felt his blood run cold when he saw Kana snap back to attention, reach down and fiddle with one of her bracelets.

But then she shook her head and giggled once more. “Silly boy,” she said, “you’re a hunter, not a Wanderer. You will take no token from me.” And she skipped off into the crowd.

Kir stared after her, angry and determined.

Andrev knew that look; it was the same look Kir wore when prey escaped during an important hunt. The prey never escaped for long.

Andrev turned away and did his best to vanish into thin air.

A Token for the World

The dance ended, and the others surged up to crowd around the fire, congratulated all the performers, the dancers and acrobats and singers. More than one woman was admiring Rastaban and his sword. Andrev instinctively ducked his head to hide behind his hair, waded through the crowds to find Kana and congratulate her.

When he found her, Kir was speaking to her, but she was her usual distracted self, giggling at the coins jangling from the hem of her skirt.

“Give me a token and I will give you the world,” Kir said, and reached for one of Kana’s bracelets.

Mad With Magic

Andrev wasn’t sure how he played his pipe, how he managed to keep the melody going when Kana began to spin and whirl in front of the fire. The silks rustled around her as she moved, and someone somewhere was keeping rhythm on a tambourine.

For one heart-stopping moment Kana balanced on one foot, leg outstretched behind her, arms extended in front of her, and had there been a sudden gust she would have fallen. Should’ve fallen.

But her eyes were golden in the firelight, and when she smiled at him, he knew she was mad with magic too.

Not The Only One

Rastaban tilted his head to one side quizzically. “I am unfamiliar with your kind of magic, however. Perhaps sometime you’ll show me.”

“Does everyone in this camp have magic?” Andrev asked. Please, he begged, let me not be the only one.

Rastaban shook his head. “No. Magic is a rare gift. But here we embrace it. And you are the son of no demon - whoever’s son you are, your sire was powerful.” He smiled. “Now, aren’t you meant to be playing the pipe for a certain girl right about now?”

Andrev heard the drums and cursed, scooped up his pipe.

Demons and Boys

“Am I a monster?” Andrev asked.

Rastaban looked up from where he was sharpening a sword. “What makes you ask?”

Andrev lifted a hand to his forehead. “These are the marks of a demon, are they not? My mother was some sort of harlot who lay with a demon, but they keep me and say I’m a gift from the gods because I can hear the way animals think and I always know where they are and I never have to hunt because the animals let themselves be killed and --”

Rastaban shook his head. “You’re no demon; you’re a boy.”

Fought the Urge

Some of the other hunters looked alarmed as well. Andrev fought the urge to duck his head as he always had, let his hair fall into his eyes. Some of the other Wanderers fell in to flank him, and Andrev wondered, for the first time, if he had friends.


Were the Wanderers really so carefree that they thought nothing of the boy marked as a demon in their midst?

“He won’t have time to watch the show - he will be playing my song,” Kana said.

Kir blinked. “Kana --”

“Come along, Andrev, we must rehearse.” Kana tugged on his wrist gently.

Stopped Hiding

Andrev wanted to ask more, wanted to know more, but then some of the other Wanderers were tugging at his elbows and shoulders, demanding he come learn to play a song for a dance.

Kana’s dance.

Andrev turned to them and would have dared a smile, but then he saw Kir and the other hunters coming toward them. Few of the others ventured into the Wanderer camp. What did they want?

“Are you watching the show tonight, Andrev?” Kir asked. His sneer faltered, and Andrev was conused; Kir was never nervous.

Then Andrev realized - he’d stopped hiding behind his hair.

Learn Of Yours

Before Andrev could call after Kana and protest that he didn’t know the song, Rastaban appeared at his side.

“I saw you watching me earlier.” Rastaban’s tone was easy, casual.

Andrev swallowed hard. “You were working. I was distracted. I apologize.”

“No need to apologize, lad.” Rastaban grinned. “Our kind should stick together, hm?” And he opened his fist, showed the shining silver coin that spun in midair over his palm.

“What do you mean ‘our kind’?” Andrev asked warily.

“Oh, I don’t have horns like you have, but I have magic of my own. You should learn of yours."

Playing the Piper

“Will you play the pipes for my dance?” Kana asked.

Andrev looked up from where he’d been weaving nets to snare pheasants. “Pardon?” And his heart stopped in his chest.

Kana was dressed in a dazzling array of silks. Silver and gold glittered in her hair, and someone had lined her eyes with kohl. She looked like the Sky Goddess from the stories Andrev had heard as a child.

“The pipes. For my dance. Will you play?”

Andrev tried to make himself nod. Before he could respond, something shiny caught Kana’s eye, and she thanked him before she dashed away.

Knowing Who Knows

One of the tools lying on the ground flew into Rastaban’s outstretched hand as he reached for it.


Andrev blinked. But then he saw it again, saw Rastaban hold an empty hand toward his tools on the ground, saw wooden pegs leap onto his open palm.

Rastaban had magic. He used his hands to fasten the pegs into place, to help the other man hoist the frame, but when the frame began to falter, Andrev was sure he saw more of Rastaban’s magic keeping it in place.

Partway through the job, Rastaban smiled at Andrev.

Rastaban knew that Andrev knew.

Maybe a Trick

Kana’s words lingered in the back of Andrev’s mind. One day, when the women told him he had hunted enough for the week, he sat on the edge of the wanderer camp, making delicate wooden whistles for the children, and he saw Rastaban helping one of the other men build a tent frame for the upcoming Wanderer feast. Every year the Wanderers danced for the tribes.

Andrev had always been banished from the show.

This year would be his first chance to see it.

And then maybe it was his eyes playing a trick on him, but he saw it.

Mod Post

Over the weekend I had the plague. And I have a terribly important (read: makes or breaks a law student, which means it's not important to anyone else but those involved) trial competition coming up, so updates will be...sparse. But should hopefully pick up after the madness has ceased.

Until then...happy imaginings.

Just A Hunter

“Watch him sometime,” Kana said, gazing across the flames to where Rastaban was wooing some of the Wanderer women. “He can do things no other man can.” Then she glanced at him slyly out of the corner of her eye. “Can you do magic?”

Andrev shook his head roughly, let his hair fall into his eyes. “No. I’m just a hunter.”

“A hunter who always knows where there is food and can catch fish with his bare hands.”

“No one wishes to speak to me - I have time to practice,” Andrev said.

Kana brushed his hair out of his eyes.

Would Call a Curse

“You know Rastaban does magic?” Kana sat down beside Andrev at the fire where he was finishing supper.

He’d had a good run of hunting earlier that day, and the Wanderers seemed to be pleased with whatever he brought back.

“Many of your clan know sleight-of-hand,” Andrev said. It seemed Kana was content to be sane for once. He’d take it where he could get it.

“Rastaban knows better magic than that,” Kana said. “You should ask him and see. Our Clan loves magic.”

Andrev wondered if she knew what she called magic others would call a curse.