26. Firion

Chapter 26

Firion

A fter eating, we spent the morning strolling around the oasis, marveling that there was so little damage after the storm. Other than the new layer of fine sand covering the ground and some sloping up the sides of the huts, the oasis appeared unscathed.

“Our gods protect us,” Davon said when I asked about this. His hand swept to the large pool as clear as the one where Talia and I had rested a few days ago. Muted sunlight made it gleam, and we'd already washed there and refilled our flasks. “Especially our water supply. We wouldn’t easily survive here in the desert without their assistance.”

“Can we ask them to gift us with supplies?” I asked. I'd tried this morning, but if the sand gods heard me, they hadn't replied or given us any of the items I’d asked for.

“I plan to,” he said. “Clothing, eye and face coverings. I saw you didn't have those last evening.” Shadows drifted across his face, and his gaze swept across the horizon beyond the oasis. “I can't imagine how you've survived during your travels. You're both brave and strong, and I admire that in you. It’s not easy to survive out here even if you have everything you need. To think you did so with only the food and water you could carry in packs, plus a few items of clothing.”

“On Earth, we don't have gods that protect us,” Talia said. “Not in this way, that is. Some people believe in the gods and in the miracles they might provide, but they're not often seen in such a tangible way. If a storm sweeps across an oasis, the pool will be full of sand and need cleaning. I imagine it obliterates some oases. You're fortunate that your sand gods protect you.”

“The storm is a display of their fury, but they care for us and we for them, though our gods only seek praise.”

“So it is for the stone gods of my clan,” I said.

He led us back to the huts and into one they all shared, showing the sacks of grains, dried fruit, and meat, explaining that the sand gods didn’t provide food, though they were generous with other items. He communed with his god right there, and clothing appeared on the sandy floor for us to take with us. Lifting an item like the one he'd worn over his eyes the night before, he demonstrated how to wear it secured around our heads and covering our eyes. The narrow slit on the front helped block most of the sun's reflection off the sand and would protect our eyes from sand carried by the wind. The sand gods had provided one for each of us, plus extras in case the first were broken, as well as cloth coverings for our faces.

My heart warm with gratitude, I braced Davon's forearms. “Thank you, friend. We wouldn’t have made it without you. This help . . . I can never repay you.”

“I’m glad to help.” His face darkened, telling me he wasn't used to praise. “Thank the gods. I asked, and they provided.”

I closed my eyes and sent the message, feeling a warmth on my spine that told me they'd received it. Such as it was with the stone gods sometimes.

We took sacks of dried food and filled two more flasks Davon provided with water, stuffing them and the new clothing inside our bags.

“Is there anything else I can offer?” Davon asked, his gaze traveling to the horizon again. He kept watch all the time, as he should. A traedor always put the people of his clan and their safety first.

The sun dropped lower. We'd have to leave soon if we were going to make much distance. I hoped we'd reach the edge of the desert by morning, though it was hard to tell. I couldn't read the markings in the desert like Davon. All I could do was guide myself by the moons, the stars, and the sun. I wasn’t exactly sure where I’d stopped for the day when the Veerenads captured me. I didn't know how long they carried me to reach the mine, though I suspect not far. They wouldn't have been far out in the desert unless a hunting party had found me.

“Our stone gods will also craft weapons for us.” I showed him the knife I'd asked the god to make for me back at the mine, and he admired it.

“Our gods do not create such a thing,” he said.

They didn’t provide food or weapons, yet they did gift things necessary to survive in the desert, and I was sure Davon and his clan were grateful for what they received and didn't think about what they didn't.

“We make our spears from a certain tree that grows in the oases. It’s very straight and incredibly hard,” he said. “We make shorter blades from that tree as well.” He must've noticed my gaze on the crystal sword he'd pulled on us last night and now wore in the sheath running down his spine, because his gaze fled mine. “This,” he tapped the hilt jutting up behind his head, “is not mine, though I'm not sure where I got it. I was out of my head after the death of my parents. I wandered beyond the desert. I barely remember my time in the forest, and I suspect I had a fever. When my head finally cleared, months had passed, and I found myself back here, with my clan pleading for me to take the role of traedor, which I accepted.” He paused. “I saw you looking at it. Do you know who this sword belongs to?”

I suspected Aizor who'd once mentioned that a large Zuldruxian had taken it from him when he was searching for his mate who was in danger. “The Indigan Clan lives with the crystal gods, so I think it came from there. Aizor, their traedor, once had a sword like that. I could take it with us and offer it to him. If it’s not his, he could ask around to discover who it belongs to.”

Davon shook his head. “I want to deliver it myself along with my apology. When the season is over, and before we journey to our winter oasis, I’ll travel to the Indigan Clan and offer Aizor the sword myself.”

“Alright.” I’d keep the information to myself the next time I saw Aizor. But I’d mention that Davon might be visiting the clan soon and explain how helpful he’d been with us. I’d ask Aizor to treat him kindly. Aizor wasn’t a traedor who acted on impulse. If this was his sword, he’d recognize it and be rightly angry.

As the day waned, we sat with the small clan of fifteen members in the shade near the pool. The storm had taken its fury out on the surrounding area before it left, but other than the light dusting on some of the vegetation and some limbs downed from the trees, I could almost believe it hadn’t happened. It would take time to shove the fear I’d felt and the sound of the howling wind from my mind, plus the feel of sand pelting us relentlessly.

One of the clansmales had lit a fire. I saw only one female in the clan, their elder, the mother of one of the members. This was common with small clans, especially in the recent years. Very few females were born. Our future was at stake. The clan clearly revered and doted on her, bringing her drinks and snacks before she could voice interest in such things. She sat in the only true chair, and I assumed they carried it with them when they traveled. On the far side of the huts, I’d seen a fenced area holding enormous beasts unlike any I’d seen before in my life. He told us they packed their belongings on the creatures and rode or led them across the desert, that the beasts could survive for days on little water and food, though they pampered them when they stayed at the oases. Like the pool, the gods had protected the creatures, somehow covering them with an unseen shield that kept the sand and wind from reaching them.

“I want to extend an offer,” I said as the sun dropped close to the horizon. We’d leave soon, and Davon had insisted he’d travel with us until we reached the edge of the desert, stating that if we took two of the beasts, their loping strides would make it possible to bring us to the edge before dawn.

The elder peered my way through rheumy eyes, and I saw only openness there. These people were as kind and welcoming as my own, and I hoped they’d listen and consider what I had to say.

“Your way of life is quite admirable,” I said. “But have you considered leaving the desert and living among the other clans?”

The elder spat, her gaze sharpening. “Why would we do such a thing? The Browze Clan has always lived here, and we always will.”

“I want to hear what Firion has to say,” Coovik said, his gaze full of longing. “Tell us what you mean.”

Davon grunted but said nothing, only slanting a long look his brother’s way.

“Many of the clans are small,” I said, and the elder nodded in agreement. “Some have chosen to live together. The Ulistar Clan, for example. They’re only eleven or so people, and they love living in their shrooms.” I explained what they were to Talia, and Coovik listened with equal interest. Had he ever traveled beyond the desert? I suspected he hadn’t.

“They sound like huge mushrooms,” Talia said in awe. “And they live inside them?”

“I’ll show you when we visit the Indigan Clan, where the Ulistars have now settled. They planted spores and their homes grew quickly.”

“Do the Indigans live inside these shrooms as well?” Coovik asked, his face screwing up with confusion. “I can’t imagine such a thing.” He glanced at the huts clustered together a short distance away. “They can’t be as nice as our homes.”

“You’d be surprised,” I said. “They’re large and quite comfortable, and the gods within the shrooms care for those who live within them, crafting furniture, clothing, and some of their food. Never meat. Our stone gods don’t provide meat either.”

“Vegetarian gods,” Talia mused, her lips twitching.

“The Indigan Clan lives inside crystal structures that sprouted long ago near a huge crystal cave system full of steaming hot pools where they bathe.”

Talia’s breath caught. “Hot pools? It sounds amazing. I’m trying to picture crystal homes, but I can’t.”

“They’re large and they gleam in the sunlight, much like Davon’s sword,” I said.

Her attention wandered to it before returning to me. All the clan watched me intently, and I suspected many were seriously taking in my words. I was sure they treasured their way of life, but their clan was small. With no females, they’d die out and that would be the end of the Browze Clan.

“As I said, clans have started to gather together,” I said. “They maintain their original way of life, but they share resources and skills. For example, Aizor’s mate enjoys cooking.”

“Their crystal gods don’t do this for them like your stone gods?” Davon asked.

“Their gods do, but she enjoys preparing food. She often cooks things unlike anything you’ve eaten before, various things she enjoyed on her home planet, Earth.” I smiled at Talia. “Cookies and bread. Cake, even. I’ve tried it, and it’s wonderful.”

“Cake? Count me in,” she said with a laugh. “I figured I’d never taste those things again, though it’s a worthy tradeoff to be with you.” She leaned into my side. We sat on the ground near the fire, but the sand was soft, and it was comfortable visiting in this way.

“She’s not the only human female living with the gathered clans,” I said.

Davon and the other males leaned forward, intently listening.

“The gods collected females from Earth and brought them here to be our mates. If they choose.” I stressed the last. “None would ever be forced into such a relationship. But at least three of the humans have mated with clan traedors.” I showed off the mating mark on my hand, and Talia revealed hers as well. It had appeared after we made love this morning, and I’d marveled about it all day long and couldn’t stop kissing it, to her amusement .

“Only traedors have been given mates?” one of the males asked, his lips twisting. “Davon may be lucky then, but what about the rest of us?”

“They brought many females, and they keep them on the central god island. It’s said they will send them to their prospective mates when the time is right.”

He grunted, his gaze seeking that of the male sitting beside him. “Perhaps we should visit this island.”

“The gods won’t release the women until they choose, and they’re not clear about when that might be,” I pointed out. “You can see them, but you cannot touch them, and you must not make demands of the gods.”

The male nodded slowly. “As it should be. You’re right to warn us about this. No one wants a mate who isn’t willing, one who won’t love him as much as he’ll love her.” The longing in his gaze when he looked at Talia hit me hard in the guts. I’d looked like that at my brother’s mate when he visited.

And now I had Talia.

“I felt I should tell you this,” I said. “Please consider traveling to the clans that live with the Indigans and stay with them for a while. See if a life like that would ever appeal to you.”

“We could still migrate,” the elder said softly, her gaze widening with wonder. “Perhaps, and I cannot even imagine such a thing, though I’d consider it, we could spend some time there before wandering the desert once more.”

“No one would expect you to do something you don’t want to,” I said. “But it’s a chance to be with others of our kind. A chance to raise our younglings with those their own age. Each clan has a few females who aren’t yet mated.”

“Would they consider males from a different clan?” someone asked with excitement.

“They wish to mate as much as we do,” I said.

The male stared at the fire, dreaming perhaps, and grunted. “This . . . It’s not something any of us have considered before.”

“We’ll talk about this as a clan when I return from traveling with you,” Davon said gruffly. “We leave soon for the northern oasis, but when we travel back this way, it’s not much farther to continue to the forest. We’d truly be welcome there?”

“My brother, Nevarn, is traedor of the forest Celedar Clan, and when we pass through that area, I plan to visit with him. I’ll tell him he might see your clan there one day, and he’ll not only make you feel welcome, but he’ll also take you to the Indigan lands and introduce you to them.”

“Hmm,” was all Davon said.

But the others whispered among themselves, and I suspected one day soon, Nevarn would have a few visitors.