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“Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“Because it’s not our place.” Niya spread her hands. “Our place is to trust that our elders are wise and will keep us safe. And Solin has placed great faith in us to prepare you for your trance. We’ve wasted enough time already.” Grabbing my wrist, she pulled me toward the exit. “Come. We best go to the river so the ritual can begin. Pallen will be wondering where we are.”
“Pallen?” I stumbled as we ducked beneath the folds of Solin’s lupic.
“Pallen is the memory of the clan and our medicine woman,” Hyath said from behind me, chasing after us.
Niya let go of me as we walked side by side. “It’s her who will prepare you for tonight, and she’ll be the one who gives you the herbs necessary to step into a trance with Solin.”
The sun cast its morning light like golden spears from the sky as we made our way through the busy camp. Not a cloud marked the crystal blueness above, but in the far, far distance, the crystalline perfection bled into a churning navy with a haze sparkling beneath it.
Rain.
It’s raining.
Was that a good omen or bad? Would the rain come here and douse the fire that would sweep Solin and me away? If it drowned the fire while we walked in its heat, would we be trapped? Unable to return to this world?
A shiver ran down my spine.
Niya laid her hand gently on my lower back, making me jump. Giving me an understanding smile, she said quietly, “No one will hurt you, Girl. Hyath and I won’t leave you, and at dusk, when you step into the trance with Solin, you will know, once and for all, who you are and where you belong.”
* * * * *
I sat by the river.
The same river that’d sung, glowed blue, and rippled around me as I’d done my best to help the stranger with his bitten arm.
Not that it had sung or glowed while I’d bathed under the careful eyes of Niya, Hyath, and the clan’s medicine woman, Pallen. Two other women stood guard—Pallen’s latest apprentices—who’d carried the furs to sit on and baskets upon baskets of things required to complete the ritual.
According to Niya, Pallen used to be head healer of the Nhil before she passed the physical act of healing to Olish and Way, teaching them the art of reading illnesses and providing appropriate care.
As Olish and Way increased in skill, she’d chosen to dedicate her life to plants and other substances that had power over the body and mind. Now, she had her latest students watching the ritual, sharing the mystical side of healing, granting insight into how flora could be used to protect a spirit facing a journey into the flames.
I couldn’t deny that her mastery over simple weeds and greenery fascinated me. My ears strained to hear Pallen tell her students what a certain yellow flower did or that willow bark had different strengths of treatment, depending on if it was steeped, boiled, or ground.
If the trance proved I was Nhil—regardless that the river whispered to me—I would ask to study with her. I wanted to train with her students; to learn about the world and its plant-trapped magic.
Pallen looked toward the two young women. “Meko, do you have the paste from the rim leaf finished?”
Meko nodded and moved to where the supplies had been placed. “It is, Pallen. Crushed as you requested, mixed with the ground bark of the acia tree, and kneaded into deer tallow.”
I studied the girl with her bright, eager brown eyes. Her skin was as dark as Niya’s; her hair a rich russet that she’d braided into two thick plaits. They hung over her robust shoulders, the strands interspersed with pretty pansy flowers from the meadows south of here.
The other girl had skin as pale as Hyath’s, but unlike Hyath’s light-coloured hair, she was kissed by fire, leaving her head a riot of bright-red springy curls that reminded me of embers in a hearth.
All five women wore the usual garb of bison fur.
Only I wore the buttery cured skin, in the shape of a top and skirt that Hyath had created. I was grateful to be covered. Thankful that vulnerable parts of me were cloaked and protected, even if my flesh still tingled with the afterlife of the calf who used to wear the skin before me.
Meko brought the bowl to Pallen. “The fire has been burning for three hours. The ash has infused with the heart, mind, and spirit, ready to bind and guide.”
“Good.” Pallen took the carved wooden bowl with its sticky brown contents and placed it by her knee. “You and Jilaa may gather the ash we require. Ensure you use two parts ash to one part acorn oil.”
“We will.” Meko bowed, arched her chin at Jilaa, who brushed aside a flame-coloured curl, and followed her fellow student to the small fire that smoked along the river’s edge.
