“Go!” the person shouted.
I looked around. No one was coming close. What was I supposed to be? An evil spirit? I walked forward. The people in front of me moved to either side.
“Thank you,” I said in English.
Behind me the person in the robe shouted, “Something! Go!”
I walked around the house to the front and then inside. Nahusai had gone to bed. Yohai sat by the fire. She was weaving, using the little handloom. She looked up.
“A bad thing,” I said. “A person named Hakht or Akht.”
“Tsa!” Yohai scrambled upright. “What?”
“I was in the privy. I came out. Hakht was there. Hakht said, ‘Go.’ ”
“Hu!” Yohai ran to her mother and shook the old lady awake. They talked softly and rapidly. I bit my thumbnail.
“Nahusai!” a voice said behind me. It was Hakht, of course. He or she stood in the doorway. One hand held a staff. The other hand held a rattle. The rattle was painted white. Black feathers dangled from the handle.
“What is this?” asked Nahusai.
I glanced at the old lady. She was standing now. Yohai held a belt made of silver. The old lady smoothed her robe, then took the belt and put it on. After that she opened a box and pulled out half a dozen necklaces. They were silver, copper, bronze, and shell. She put them on. Yohai handed her a staff. She walked toward us slowly, with dignity, leaning on her staff.
“It is night, daughter of my sister,” she said to Hakht. She spoke slowly and clearly. I had an idea that she wanted me to understand. “Why are you here?”
Hakht waved the rattle at me. It made a buzzing sound. “This one will go.”
“No,” Nahusai answered.
“She is a something!” Hakht said.
“No. What did I teach you, daughter of my sister? How do we know a something?” Nahusai held up a finger. “They do not like to eat.” She held up a second finger. “They never sleep.” She held up a third finger. “They do not go in the water. Is this not so?”
Hakht frowned, then made the gesture that meant “yes.”
Nahusai waved at me. “This one sleeps. She eats—” My host made a wide gesture, indicating that I ate plenty. “She uses the privy. She has been in the water. Yohai saw this. She is not a something. You say a bad thing, daughter of my sister. It is not true.”
Hakht frowned. She opened her mouth to answer.
Nahusai pointed at the door. “I will not talk in the night. Go!”
After a moment Hakht turned. She left slowly, with obvious reluctance. Her back looked rigid. The hand that held the rattle moved slightly. I heard a soft erratic buzz.
When she was gone, Yohai began to moan.
“Tsa!” the old lady said.
I discovered I was shaking. I sat down, almost falling as I folded myself up. Nahusai and Yohai began talking. Their voices were full of strain. I couldn’t understand a word of the conversation.
What had happened, anyway? Hakht had accused me of being some kind of supernatural creature. A monster, an evil spirit, a ghost. Nahusai had said I didn’t have the distinguishing characteristics of whatever it was. She had sounded like a doctor, discussing the symptoms of a disease. She must be a magician or a priestess, and Hakht must be one, too. A rival specialist. In any case Hakht had withdrawn, foiled for the moment. But I was pretty sure that this quarrel wasn’t over. Should I ask Eddie to pull me out? I bit a fingernail. Not yet.
My host spoke, her voice calm and definite. Whatever she said sounded final. Yohai made a gesture I didn’t entirely understand. But I thought it meant “so be it.”
Nahusai sighed. She leaned her staff against the wall, then took off her jewelry. She looked exhausted.
“Li-sha.” It was Yohai.
“Yes?”
“Sleep.” Yohai pointed at my pile of furs.
I went there, but I didn’t get to sleep for hours.
Yohai shook me at dawn. “Wake you. Eat.”
I sat up. The fire was burning brightly. A pot hung over it, and my host sat nearby.
“Come,” said Yohai. “Now.”
I went to the privy first. It was cold outside. There was dew on the ground, and the sky was an indeterminate early morning color. Why was I up at this hour? More trouble, I decided. I used the privy and went back to the house. There was water in a big basin next to the door. I washed and went inside.
Breakfast was mush. It seemed to be their favorite food. When we were done eating, my host looked at me. Her expression was grave. “Li-sha.” She paused and frowned. “Hakht says bad things. People listen. They say, ‘Yes. Li-sha is a something. She is bad.’ ” She paused again and stared at the fire, then looked back at me. “I am old. They know I go—” She patted the floor. Underground, that gesture meant. “I talk. They do not listen. Go with Yohai.”
“Where?”
“A good place. Go.”
I packed, then slung my pack over my shoulders. Yohai put on a plain brown tunic and a leather belt. A sheath hung from the belt, and there was a knife in the sheath. It had a handle made of brass and horn.
“Come,” Yohai said.
I stopped in front of Nahusai. I didn’t know the word for “thank you,” but there was a gesture. I touched my chest, then turned my hand so the palm was toward Nahusai.
She returned the gesture.
I held out a gift: a box. It was made of wood from one of the Empty Islands, inset with pieces of shell. They were iridescent pink and green, lovelier than abalone or mother-of-pearl.
Nahusai took the box.
“Good-bye,” I said in English. I followed Yohai out the door.
The sun was just appearing. Looking to the east I saw it: a line of orange light above a rooftop. The sky was clear. The street was empty, except for a yellow ki —a domestic bird, something like a crane. It was hunting for bugs in the weeds along a house wall. We startled it. It stalked away, and we hurried off in the opposite direction.
By the time the sun was fully up we were in the forest. Trunks rose up on every side of us like pillars in an old-time cathedral. Way above us were the branches. Their dark leaves hid the sun. Now and then we came to a clearing, full of sunlight and flying bugs. There must have been a hatch. Or was I seeing a migration? In any case, the bugs were all the same. Their bodies were electric blue. Their wings were transparent and colorless, except for two large red spots.
There was one clearing where the bugs were especially numerous. They floated around us. One landed on my arm. I stopped, enchanted. It fanned its wings. I counted eight legs and two antennae.
“Come,” said Yohai.
I hurried on. The bug flew away.
At noon we came to a building standing in a larger-than-usual clearing. Weeds grew around it, and a stream ran in the back. I heard the rushing water.
“This is the place,” my companion told me.
The building was small and old. A log propped up one wall. The roof was leather. I was pretty sure that it wasn’t the original roof, but rather a makeshift repair, done by someone who was no carpenter. Off to one side was a second structure. A lean-to. Smoke came out of it. What was it? I got my answer a moment later: the sound of a hammer. A smithy.
My companion walked toward the sound. I followed. We stopped at the entrance to the lean-to and looked in. A fire burned in a stone forge. A person bent over an anvil made of iron. There was metal on the anvil, glowing bright yellow. The person lifted a hammer, then brought it down, lifted it and brought it down again.
Yohai raised one hand in warning. “Wait” that gesture meant. I waited.
After a while the person put down the hammer. He or she straightened up, stretched, groaned, then turned and saw us. “Hu!”
Yohai said something I didn’t understand.
The smith made a gesture.