Her friends saw her grief, and it puzzled them.
“You’ve been a bami longer than any of us; there are elders who became bami after you did. Aren’t you ready to become an elder?” her friend Kalla asked.
“I still miss him,” Ani said. She was being rude, speaking of the dead, but now that Ilto was gone, she felt as though a part of her were missing.
The other bami’s laughter subsided, and they each linked with her briefly, tasting her sadness, and sharing their fondness for her.
“I’ll miss you all,” Ani said when the link was broken.
“You make it sound as though you were dying,” Baha said.
“No, but I’ve seen other bami go through werrun. They change. When I’m an elder I’ll be busy running things. Things will be different between us.”
“We’ll catch up to you in a few years,” Kalla said in reassuring tones. “Someday we’ll all be elders together. It won’t be long. You’ll see.”
“And then you’ll all be vying for my favors in the mating pool,” Baha said, preening shamelessly.
Kalla splashed him, and soon the quiet pool resounded with a huge water fight, with Ani caught in the middle, watching the others’ skin ripple with vivid laughter.
At last, tired and panting, the bami emerged from the pool. Kalla draped a necklace of dried bakim around Ani’s neck, their iridescent blue wing cases gleaming in the dusk. One by one, the other bami came forward to adorn her, until she was covered from ears to hips in brilliant necklaces made of flowers, seeds, shells, small birds, and insects. Safely hidden by the muffling decorations, Ani repeated Ilto’s name over and over again.
When they were finished decorating Ani, the bami led her gravely and ceremoniously back to Ninto, who waited with the other elders.
The elders led her back to the tree, descended to the bottom, and formed a circle around the rim of the tree’s reservoir. The brief joy that Ani felt during the water fight had dissipated. She felt as numb and lifeless as a rock. The long ritual, with its rhythmic calling, dancing, and celebrations, flowed over her like water over a stone. She performed the required actions, and said the things that needed to be said, automatically. None of it touched her. It was as though she were watching the ritual happen to some other bami.
At last, Ninto came forward, arms outstretched for allu-a. Ani came forward and linked with her. Now the real transformation would take place. She felt Ninto’s presence inside her, moving through her, coaxing forth the hormones that would bring her into full adulthood.
She would not feel the effect for several hours. Then she would sink into a deep coma for a couple of days, and awaken as an elder. Ninto led her up the tree to her room. A huge meal was laid out. Ani picked at it. She would need the energy during werrun, but her stomach was filled with grief. She couldn’t, eat, and she was getting sleepy. It would be good to sleep. The oblivion of sleep seemed like a release. The thought of living without Ilto was too painful to bear. She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.
Ani hardly noticed when Ninto eased her onto the bed. She fell asleep as quickly and easily as a stone sinks into a deep pool.
Strange visions troubled her sleep. She tracked Ilto through the forest, following his scent through the trees, and over the ground. She searched for what seemed like days. Her body ached in odd places. She was cold, tired, and hungry.
At last she came to a wide beach. Ilto’s footprints stretched before her in the sand. They led to the ocean. His footprints marked the water where he had walked, stretching out to the horizon. She wanted to follow, but the water would not bear her weight. She would have to swim after him, but the water was unimaginably cold. It swirled over her ankles. The cold made her heavy and stupid. She would have to hurry before she became unable to continue. She took a step into the frigid ocean. A wave swirled up to her knees and then slipped back down the beach again. It pulled at her legs, drawing her into the ocean.
She felt a sudden warmth, as if the sun were shining on her back. She sensed a presence somewhere behind her. It felt like Ilto’s. She turned around, looking for him, wondering how he could be so close when his footprints stretched out to the horizon. She stepped from the icy-cold sea. Where was he? If she closed her eyes, she felt as though she could reach out and touch him. She took another step up the beach, chittering a loud, urgent summons, flashing Ilto’s name sign over and over again. She found nothing, only the presence near her, inside her, like allu-a. She ran up the beach to the forest’s edge, then turned and looked behind her. Ilto’s footprints were gone. The ocean was smooth again, and the only footprints on the beach were her own.
She cried out again, squalling like a frightened tinka. Ilto was gone. He was dead. She was alone. The realization terrified her. Without Ilto, she was nothing.
A hand brushed her shoulder. She looked up. It was Ninto. She recognized the presence in her dream now. It hadn’t been Ilto; it was Ninto. Her presence felt like Ilto’s.
Ninto reached out to her, beckoning. Ani glanced back at the ocean one last time, then reached out and took Ninto’s hand and followed her into the forest. There was a nest in one of the trees. Ani laid down beside Ninto and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Ani’s eyes opened. Ninto was sitting beside her bed. Baha and the new creature were with “her. Ani took a deep breath, smelling the rank odor of sickness. Ilto must be sick again, she thought, and she tried to get up to go to him. But she was too weak. She realized that what she smelled was her own sickness, and remembered—Ilto was dead; she was an elder now.
Ninto flushed a pure, brilliant pale blue. “Welcome back, Anito. You survived werrun. For a while we thought you were going to follow Ilto.”
Hearing an elder’s suffix attached to her name startled Ani. She tried again to sit up, and failed. She was weaker than a newly hatched lizard pup. Ninto and the new creature moved to help her, with an ease that spoke of familiarity. She looked down. Her skin was stretched tightly over her ribs.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Eight days. You nearly died.” Ninto rubbed her cheek ruefully. “I should have waited. You hadn’t eaten enough, and I didn’t realize how deeply you felt your sitik’s death. You didn’t want to live. I had to go in and bring you back.”
“I saw it,” Ani said. “I was following Ilto and you brought me back. I’m an elder now.” She tried to stand, and Ninto pushed her back down.
“No, Anito, you’re too weak. Drink first, and eat.” Ninto turned to the new creature. “Bring food and water,” she said in large, plain words.
The new form of her name struck her like a blow. She couldn’t accept the fact that she was an elder. She still thought of herself as Ani.
The new creature got up and brought over a leaf cone full of mushed kayu, and a large gourd of water. Washes of blue and black and green flickered over its skin as it handed the water to her.
Ani took the gourd and drank deeply. She was extremely thirsty. There was very little left for her to wash with, but she poured it over her head anyway, washing away a little of the rank smell of sickness. She handed the gourd back to the new creature, thanking it as though it could imckistand. To her surprise, the creature responded with a garbled wash :i colors.
Ani gestured at the creature. “Why does it keep changing colors like aiai?” she asked Ninto.