Fire in the Sky

6

The lay-by was neat and well-maintained, a grassy space inside a stake fence with fruiting vines woven through the stakes. Inside the fence there was a grassy area with two shade trees and several backless benches, a covered well with a hand pump for filling the water trough, a three-sided shed with a corral and hayrick for the caцpas or draft animals of those spending the night there, a resthouse with a roof made from pieces of shell scraped so thin they let the sun shine through. The only furnishings were a pair of wide benches built into the wall and a fireplace with an extension to one side for cooking meals.

After they finished tending the caцpas, Shadith strolled to the opening in the stake fence and stood looking along the road.

There was a dark blot on the horizon rather like a herd of something smaller than the ponies-something else coming down the road. She hadn’t expected to see things so busy. Despite the Yaraka thrusting themselves into the lives of these people, once one got a very short way from the Enclave, the days of the locals seemed to be moving along much as usual.

She strolled away. Walking felt good, stretching muscles that the riding had tied into knots. She looked in the door of the resthouse, saw Danor stretched out on one of the benches with his face to the wall. You want to be alone, I’ll leave you alone. She moved on.

Maorgan was leaning on the corral fence, talking privately to Eolt Melech, the speech tentacle dropping to curl around his neck.

Shadith glanced at the Ard, shrugged and wandered back to the opening.

The blotch was closer, separating out into a crowd of children. She was beginning to hear fragments of laughter and words. She turned her head, called,

“Maorgan, something’s on the road ahead, moving toward us. Come tell me what it is.”

At first she didn’t think he’d heard her, then he touched the tentacle round his throat. When the Eolt pulled free, he said, “According to Melech, it’s the Mengerak. The twelfth year Circle.” He walked over to her, looked out. “Right.”

“That tells me a lot.”

“Oh. Seven Ordumels make a Circle. In this Circle, we count Alsekum, Kebesengay, Bliochel, Melekau, Rongesan, Cherredech, Soibeseng. In the third week of Kerrekerl the Mengerak begins. The Children’s Walk. Starts in a different Dumel each year, around and around the Circle. It’s a time for learning, for bonding with the Circle, getting ready for the Kirrataneh and the Mating fairs. For trading. For holding the Circle in peace. What Glois was on about, next year he and Utelel will be making Mengerak. The kids think it’s the greatest fun there is, going from celebration to celebration, but it’s a lot more than that. It’s a thousand and a thousand years old and it’s important, it’s one of the glues that binds us together. Ah, Shadowsong, if the Shape Wars come back…” He didn’t try to finish, just shook his head and stood watching the horde of children coming down the road.

“What about the chorek? And animal predators?”

“If you’ll look higher, you’ll see half a dozen Eolt floating ward above them. Besides, if anyone harmed a single one of those kids, they’d have all of Banikoлh after them. We wouldn’t stop till we cleaned the land of them.” His face twisted with sudden anger, smoothed out almost as quickly. “It won’t happen.”

“It hasn’t happened,” she said quietly. “The Yaraka and the Chave, your mesuchs, they’re changing things. Next year you’d better send guards with the children if you think they should go out. Not just the Eolt. Sounds like some of the political choreks would like nothing better than linking up with a set of powerful offworlders. And that means trouble of a kind you haven’t seen before.”

He looked past Danor at the band of children. They were close enough now that Shadith could begin to make out individuals. Two girls were dancing in a wild spiral along the grassy lane, hair flying, breathless laughter breaking to pieces on the wind. A Keteng Meloach was plucking strings and knocking his knuckles on an instrument that seemed rather like a lute crossed with a gourd. Behind xe other Meloach were clapping their hands and several Fior and Meloach were improvising mouth music. “We need this glue, Shadowsong. Without it Keteng and Fior could fall apart.” He made an impatient sound. “Matha matha, we’d better get moving again. Holding on is what the Klobach is all about. The Meruus are expecting you to tell them how step by step, so we’d better get you there and let you do it.”

7. Wheel of Fortune