Prophet's Journey, page 4
part #1 of Prophet of the Badlands Series
Her power connected her mind to his life essence, creating a floating image of the man’s body. Thin black voids revealed the position of the arrows, places where the metal had pushed his flesh away. Many sicks, yellow, white, and green, swirled around in his blood-presence. Raiders often dipped their arrows in foul things on purpose. More victims died later to the poison or filth than directly from being shot.
First things first.
She commanded his mind to ignore pain, directed the blood-presence to stay inside the body, then made his right arm move by manipulating the muscles. Soon after his hand rose into the air, the black line of an arrow in his left air bag shrank away almost to nothing. Den’s faint grunt came from somewhere in front of her as the second arrow, deep in chest muscles, pulled away at the same time the one in his leg withdrew, likely Pol’s doing.
A few small bits of metal remained, broken off the arrowheads. Althea forced his body to regrow itself in tiny spurts that pushed each fragment upward, eventually squeezing them out from the skin. Next, she sealed two of the arrow wounds, but not the hole over his lung, since the air bag had collapsed. After allowing some of her consciousness to emerge from the healing trance, she bent forward and blew into Nom’s nose, ignoring the salty taste of sweat.
Wet sputtering came from the remaining arrow wound as the air bag inflated. Once she sealed the puncture so that no more air could go where it didn’t belong, she sat up straight and dove again into the full healing trance.
Gathering all the sick out of him took some time. The streamers of badness flowing around his body responded to her psionic energy and moved as she directed, concentrating in his bladder. Finally, she urged the blood-presence to swell. He had lost quite a bit on his trip here.
When she could do no more for him, she released her connection and opened her eyes all the way.
Den sat on the other wheel well, facing her. Pol stood in the cart to Den’s left, closer to the man’s legs.
“He will need to make water to let out the sick. It will have the pain, so I will help.” Althea took Nom’s hand.
Pol bowed to her. “You are most kind.”
A moment later, Nom opened his eyes and groaned. “Ugh. Gah…” He rolled on his side and curled up.
“You must make water soon,” said Althea. “You have sick that needs to come out. It will be like fire if I do not help.”
Nodding, Nom moaned and forced himself up onto his knees. Pol opened the tailgate and helped him down. Althea walked alongside him for a short distance, holding his hand so she could turn off his sense of pain while he let out the foul water. A smell like rotting meat filled the air.
“Why is it this color?” asked Nom.
“Because it is made of sick, not pee.” Althea grinned at herself for remembering the ‘civilized’ word for it.
Nom gagged on the smell.
She waited patiently, keeping him from burning as he let the disease out. Eventually, Nom staggered backward, finished. Althea released his hand and guided him back over to the other men.
“Nom!” said Pava. “You live!”
Raal raised his spear over his head in one hand, pumping his fist. “Praise the Prophet!”
Althea opened her mouth to protest, but upon sensing he meant that more as a ‘thank you’ than worship, remained quiet.
Pol hefted a metal tool box out of the wagon and carried it over. “It is not much, but we brought it as an offering for your help.”
Althea peered quizzically at it for a second before opening the lid. The two-foot-long box had been filled roughly a third of the way with coins of various sizes and colors. “Oh, no. You do not have to give me pay-things!” She shivered with guilt. The Wagon Man made people give him pay-things or he wouldn’t let them near her. She wanted to help, but that man had kept her constantly in a small cage. “Please. I do not need them.”
Pol tilted his head. “But you have allowed Nom to keep his life, brought him back from the path to the Ancestors.”
“Yes.” Althea grinned. “It gives me the happy to help people. It is wrong to demand pay-things to make the hurts and sicks go away.”
“Aww, damn,” said Nom, rubbing his stomach. “I could eat a whole damn squealer myself right about now.”
Althea hugged Pol. “Thank you for wanting to give me a gift, but life is not something that pay things can trade for. I will help everyone who needs.”
Pol regarded her for a moment in confusion. “The legends said you would demand offerings of coin.”
“The legends are wrong.” Althea shook her head. “I never wanted offerings. The Wagon Man did. He would not let me help anyone who did not give him pay things. He has been dead for a long time.”
Pol’s eyes widened.
“I did not harm him. Others killed him to steal me from him.” She patted him on the arm. “You can use the pay-things in Querq.”
“All right,” said Pol.
He smiled, giving off a strong enough sense of relief that Althea couldn’t resist looking into his mind to see why. His entire settlement had pooled their pay-things in hopes they would have enough to buy Nom’s life from her. She bit her lip, moved by everyone so freely giving up their pay-things for someone else—but also angry that people thought she wanted them to.
“Please tell people they do not need pay-things.” Althea tugged on his arm. “I don’t want anyone to die because they have none.”
“I will.” Pol handed the box of money to Pava, who hauled it back to the cart. I had meant to ask you for help finding the place called Querq before realizing who you were. Would you please guide us there so we may rest and obtain provisions?”
“Follow the water in that direction.” Den pointed to the left. “Where it goes under the stone path, cross the water and then and follow the stone path. It leads to the gate. When you pass through the Old City, be wary of bonedogs or other things. They usually do not come out during the day.”
“You have our gratitude.” Pol—and the other men—bowed to her.
Althea took Den’s hand and walked with him to the stream. She hopped from rock to rock, the sun-touched stone hot at her soles, then dashed over to sit beside his boots and socks. Once again, Den waded across. He settled down beside her, legs out straight.
The five men walked off to the left, following the stream. A bridge where the water passed into a big metal tube under a Before-Time road sat a quarter-mile off. She leaned against him watching the men walk off, sighing in embarrassment at overhearing them speak of how great and kind the Prophet is.
Den put an arm around her. She smiled and leaned against him, but couldn’t quite feel content. Worry about the danger she’d sensed earlier lingered. Those five men couldn’t have been the cause. Pol’s thoughts didn’t contain anything scarier than the hope they would find her and she could save Nom’s life.
That meant someone else—or something—else dangerous had yet to show up.
Cuddling under the late afternoon sun soon became tentative lip-touching. That didn’t bother her at all, even if she didn’t fully understand why it made her feel odd. Raiders never did the lip touching thing with their captives that she’d seen. The gesture felt far too tender and loving to be anything people like that would want to do.
Den leaned back after a few minutes. “Something is wrong.”
“Am I not lip-touching good?”
“Your mind is not here.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Where does it go?”
Althea fidgeted at the worry radiating from him. “The seeing I had before.”
“You felt those men.”
She shook her head and whispered, “No. They were not bad. Something else is—”
Snap.
They both peered back at the hill they’d been sitting against, too high to see past.
Another snap came from behind the top.
She grabbed his shoulder, certain the reason for her premonition tried to sneak up on them.
Someone’s coming!
Den rolled over onto his chest, grabbed the rifle, and crawled up the hill.
For a second, she hesitated, biting her lip… then decided to follow.
Althea would not allow whoever came to take her to hurt Den.
4
Five Years
Althea crept to the top of the shallow hill, flat on her belly beside Den.
They peeked over at the same time, peering through scrub brush that should mostly conceal them from view—at a young couple she recognized: Adriana and Elias. As soon as she saw them, Althea relaxed. People from Querq wouldn’t be any danger to her or Den unless The Many somehow influenced them. And even then, she could make him go away.
Officer David hadn’t been able to explain how exactly she did it, but he floated the idea that Althea’s presence here somehow protected the village from that creature’s influence. He described her like a bright light chasing away shadows.
Elias sat on the ground beside a basket that no doubt held food. Adriana sat beside him facing the opposite way. They whispered a few things to each other, then began touching lips.
Worry gone, Althea ceased being the Prophet… and turned into a grinning eleven-maybe-twelve-year-old watching people be cute while trying not to giggle out loud. Den turned his head toward her for a second, evidently confused about what to do.
Althea covered her mouth with a hand. Her amusement gave way to curiosity when Adriana and Elias did something different. They opened their mouths during the lip-touching.
Den nudged her.
She glanced at him.
He flared his eyes, then tapped the side of his head.
Figuring he wanted her to look so he could say something without making a sound, she peeked at his thoughts.
Why are they shaking tongues? asked Den, comparing their activity to people shaking hands.
Althea glanced at the couple for a moment, observing them. I don’t know.
They watched in silence for a few minutes.
Adriana leaned back from Elias and pulled her beige dress off over her head. He hastily removed his shirt and pants. Both of them radiated love to such a degree that Althea couldn’t help but mutter ‘aww.’
They resumed doing that tongue-touching thing after shedding their clothes. That looked like one of those activities Father didn’t want Althea doing until she turned sixteen. But Adriana and Elias were both twenty, so they must have permission from their fathers.
Althea tapped Den on the arm, but he didn’t look. She kept tapping him for a few more seconds—with increasing force—until he finally glanced away from them. Why did they take their clothes off? Are they going swimming? She didn’t think he intended to wife Adriana, since the woman hadn’t been tied or put on a leash, and didn’t give off any sense of fear.
He shrugged, thinking swimming would be unlikely since they were so far from the stream… plus no one swam in the stream. They used a big hole in the ground full of water inside Querq where a building had once stood.
She peered back at them, trying to understand why they’d undress if not to take a bath, go swimming, or cope with excessive heat. Elias embraced Adriana, eventually rolling sideways so they lay on the ground.
Their emotions changed. Love remained strong, but something else… an emotion Althea feared, joined it. The same emotion raiders often gave off when looking at harem slaves.
Her eyes widened.
She emitted a faint growl and started to climb upright, but Den grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back down, shaking his head.
He’s gonna wife her! Althea stared at him. I have to stop it!
Again he shook his head.
But! But! Wifeing is bad! She’s gonna scream and cry!
Den tapped his head.
She clutched two handfuls of dirt in frustration, but forced her panic aside to look at his thoughts.
It’s okay if she wants to do it. They’re both happy right? She isn’t scared?
Althea glanced back at Adriana. Numerous emotions shone from her presence, but no fear. The woman practically burst with love, excitement, and happiness… and gave off quite a bit of that other emotion that scared her. Officer David called it lust. He also had become extremely embarrassed talking about it with her. She figured it had something to do with bunnies and rainbows since his thoughts had filled with images of that when she asked him what lust meant. But that didn’t make any sense either. What she’d witnessed in the various raider camps had nothing at all to do with cute furry animals or colorful rainbows.
A few minutes later, Adriana did something she’d never seen anyone do before. Den gave off a high dose of confusion as well as a weaker form of lust, but mostly worry.
She elbowed him until he looked at her. Why is she lip-touching with his boy part?
He made faces at her like a fish out of water. His thoughts held a bizarre mix of abject bewilderment and the urge to keep watching. She furrowed her brows and resumed watching the couple.
Eep. Is she trying to eat it? Eww. Why is she doing that? She’d seen mothers kiss boo-boos on small kids, maybe he hurt his boy part?
Again, Althea started to stand, this time to go see if he needed healing.
Den grabbed her and held her down, shaking his head.
He might be hurt.
He shook his head harder, then whispered, “He’s not hurt.”
She looked back at Elias. The face he made sure looked like he experienced a great deal of pain. However, his emotional radiance remained squarely in the love/pleasure spectrum. One or two raiders had reacted to being shot with the same emotion, but they had been quite broken in the brain-shape. Elias, as far as Althea knew, didn’t have a head sick, so he must not be suffering.
He let out a long, low moan in time with a huge blast of pleasure.
Althea ducked lower to the ground and nudged Den. Do you want to do that?
The weird little grin on his face evaporated in an instant. He shook his head, nodded, then shook his head, then turned red. Scowling, he pointed at his temple.
What?
Your father will kill me and wear my hide as a tunic if we do anything more than touch lips until you’re at least sixteen. That’s five years away. We’re both still too young for what those two are doing. We shouldn’t even be watching it. Though he said otherwise, his emotions indicated he wanted to keep watching.
Oh. She looked back toward the couple—who both glanced over at that exact moment and stared straight at her.
Glowing blue eyes didn’t exactly work wonders for stealth.
The emotional radiance coming from the couple exploded into mortification.
She glanced at Den. “They’re embarrassed? Why? When raiders did the wifeing, they didn’t care if people watched.”
“What are you two doing over there?” yelled Elias. “Get back to your parents!”
“A-Althea?” said Adriana. “Why are you spying on us?”
She stood. “Sorry. I got a scare that someone bad was trying to hurt me, and heard noise. When I saw you, I got confused. Didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Aww.” Adriana blushed, then made a shooing motion. “Go on home.”
“Okay. Sorry!” She backed down the hill.
Den shimmied down the hill, still flat on his front.
“We should go home,” said Althea.
“Yeah.”
“Why aren’t you standing up?”
“Umm. Because. Need a minute.”
She scratched her head. “Is something wrong?”
Den’s face turned bright red. “Umm. No. I just wanna, umm, rest here a bit.”
Althea shifted her jaw side to side, thinking. He hadn’t radiated any sense of embarrassment while watching Adriana and Elias, but now, he gave off tons of it. Since she promised not to look into his head unless he asked her to or said it was okay, she simply waited.
Soft whispering and laughter came from Adriana and Elias; however, it didn’t sound like they did anything more than talk.
Eventually, Den rolled over to sit, grabbing his socks. Once he had his boots on, he stood, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and dusted his jeans off. Hand in hand, they walked along the stream, heading back to Querq.
“Weird,” said Althea.
“There’s a big difference between wifeing and what they were going to do.”
“How?” She pulled her hair off her face and smiled at him.
“Umm. I’ll tell you in five years.”
She folded her arms, about to protest it would only be four since she considered herself twelve. But those corporation people from the bad city who tried to abduct her called her eleven. She still didn’t know her true age. Father declared that she was eleven until next year, so she’d have to accept that. Annoyed, she muttered, “I don’t understand and I don’t like waiting. I just want to understand, not do anything.”
Den laughed. “Your father likes that you don’t understand, and I’m not going to make him angry.”
“I don’t want to make him angry either.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “But I don’t think you know what wifeing is either.”
He shrugged. “Not exactly, but I know it’s supposed to be nice. Something two people who love each other do. Become husband and wife.”
Althea decided there had to be another word for it. What she understood as wifeing would never happen between people who loved each other. Once she got home, she’d ask Father if he knew what to call the thing Den thought of.
But he probably wouldn’t tell her yet.
Not for another five years.
5
Ghosts
Father cooked dinner that night, making a dish with beans, rice, and chicken.
While he worked in the kitchen, Althea sat on the couch using the learning machine. A long session the other day had almost brought her to the end of the second-grade spelling lesson.
“You’re doing it really fast.” Karina looked up from her knitting. “See, you are smart. Most kids take a whole year for it.”
