From the Indie Side (23 page)

They
never smiled.

“Tam will stay
here with you. You take care of Tam now.”

He is
just rock.
She
understood that.
But
if he come alive? Tam would make the nasty islanders
pay.
More tears
filled her eyes.
Tam
only wanted to love them. To be with them. To be with
Yore.

She lay back
and let her weary gaze travel from the curving horizon to stare at
the Above Land. It was beyond her imagination, so immense, so
beautiful. Tantalizing and unreachable. A vast continent straddled
the sun, visible on either side of its hazy glare, covered in
delicate clouds like tufts of white hair. The air swirled
magically—an inviting gossamer veil flowing across coastlines and
vast inner lands.

Tam
want to go there. Away from here, Tam hate here.

She
wondered, as she had often done, who lived on that continent, what
kind of life those people led, and if they, too, on days like
these, would stare at her small island high above in the vast ocean
on the roof of their sky. Her eyes followed the long sun stretching
into the distance, finally ending in a mountain of white facing its
faraway twin across the immeasurable expanse of the world. The
white crept forward with every passing turn. Yore told her it
was
ice
—water, but
cold enough to become brittle and hard.
Ice scared him
. She couldn’t understand why.

Beautiful ice. Special. Everything scares Yore. Even Tam’s
green eyes. Silly man. Silly stupid Yore.

Tamina
was born with eyes of the purest evil; or so everyone told her. No
amount of punishment from her long-dead mother could hide their
hue.
Maybe
Tam is a witch? Maybe Tam summons storms, speaks to winds, and
tells the sun what to do?

Unbidden
and serene, the calming face of the Lady came into her mind. Tamina
had spent the latter part of the storm gazing into her strong,
noble face, bathed in an unnatural light that shone from the cave
walls. A pale-skinned beauty, her hair a riot of shiny red curls,
trapped within a block of clear crystal.
Who was she? Where she come
from?
Her expression had
been one of calm blissful acceptance. A gentle smile upon full
lips. As if her captivity was no punishment at all.

She
must be prisoner. Why she in the glass, unable to speak or move?
They punished her for being nice. For prettiness and goodness. The
islanders punish everything and everyone.

Tamina could
have stayed there, forever gazing into the soothing visage of the
Lady in the Glass, but hunger finally forced her out of hiding.
She’d gingerly made her way through what remained of the collapsed
promontory to examine the storm-changed landscape. The sea had
retreated to a distant splash of white foam, exposing a long beach.
The avalanche of rock sat high above that. Elevated somehow. Slabs
of broken stone tossed aside by some leviathan of the deep.

An annoyed
chirrup brought Tamina back to her senses. She sat up from the
pebble beach to find a couple of lizards regarding her with their
peculiar earnest faces upon heads that twitched impatiently.

“All right,”
she said in resignation, jumping to her feet and wincing at the
pain where Yore’s whip had branded her. “Tam hungry too. Let’s see
what Tam finds.” After weaving a crude basket from a windblown palm
leaf, she trotted back to the shoreline and waded ankle-deep into
the sea. Behind her, more lizards gathered, dancing across the
pebbles in anticipation, their chirruping rising to a
crescendo.

Silly
things.

Within seconds,
silvery minnows began leaping into Tamina’s basket. “So tinsy-tiny.
Nice for breakf—”

A shout in the
distance, and Tamina froze. Angry voices carried on a cool breeze.
Tamina ran back to the stone head, throwing her basket aside, the
host of hungry lizards hissing and fighting one another for the
still-twitching fish.

More voices,
coming from the far headland at the end of her secluded beach.
Tamina spied a cluster of islanders, some of them dressed in the
gaudy colors of the fetishmen, heading to the other side of the
island.

Where
they going? They searching for Tam? Why they always
angry?

Used to
sneaking and creeping around—mostly at night between the huts and
houses of the islanders—Tamina stole carefully through the limp
jungle ravaged by both the colder climate and last night’s awful
storm. The seas had reached inland. The mess of trees and rotting
seaweed gave her more cover than normal. She crossed the spine of
the island and dropped down to the opposite shoreline, making her
way to a stinking pile of trunks close to where the islanders
stood. Her breath caught in her throat: lying on the storm beach
was a most magnificent creature. White and red feathers, wet and
tangled, pepper-flecked wings and enormous claws.

No
horrid sea monster… but a giant bird.

Even with its
muscular, yellow-banded neck obviously broken, she could envisage
how proud and strong this creature must have been in life.

The islanders
crowded together, full of fear, the same tired talk of
storm-summoning and demons. And, as usual, they blamed Tamina.

What
has Tam done to them? The poor thing is no demon.

A familiar
commanding voice. “Silence!”

Yore.

The fetishman
approached the stricken bird, his naked foot pushing hither and
thither. “An abomination,” he said finally. “A fell beast brought
to us on the back of an evil squall… The witch’s familiar. I will
send men to build a pyre.” He turned to leave.

“Is that all?”
cried an old woman.

“
What
else would you have me do? Tamina is gone. She raised the storm to
protect herself. We all witnessed what she did on the promontory.
The lightning. The strange winds, and this…
monster
. If I had not seen those evil things with
my own eyes…” The Yore’s head twitched from side to side. Grizzled
jaws clamped together, trying to contain his fury, his silver hair
blowing in the breeze. “Even I, the Yore, once thought Tamina was
innocent. A sign of witchery if there ever was one.”

“We have only
your word that she perished,” the old woman continued unabashed,
naked hatred showing in the bulge of her jowls.

“
The
witch is gone,” he snapped, his rage forming sharp jutting words.
“We must concentrate on rescuing crops and finding our animals. We
cannot let this…
thing
divert us.
Tamina is no more. Now leave this place.”

A thin man,
weaselly and unshaven, with a pitted brown face and the sly stare
of a sulky dog, stepped forward. “Can we be sure? You have seen how
she is with animals. How they flock to her. If she can control
beasts like this… who knows what she is capable of?”

Tamina had not
disguised her affinity with beasts and birds… and couldn’t have if
she’d tried. All creatures had a presence that glowed within her
mind. Vicious dogs slunk at her side, feral cats jumped to her lap,
and wild animals were drawn to her. The islanders had noticed this
talent. It made them hate her even more.

Tam
is not witch. Is not.

“She is dead, I
tell you,” spat the Yore. Quick doubt crossed his face. “She must
be.”

“How do we know
you are not still bewitched?” the man continued, glancing around
for support. “This beast tried to save her, and paid with its life.
Nothing is free from her witchery.”

Tam
never seen such bird before. Tam would remember.

The thin man
continued, his emaciated arms waving like threatening sticks. “She
has ways about her. Ways to fool and cheat. We cannot be sure she
is dead until we see her corpse.”

The chief
fetishman raised his ceremonial whip and waited for silence. “I am
the Yore. You will listen to me and obey. Tamina is gone. I threw
her into the sea myself. She can no longer disturb our
crops…
nor
our beds
.”

The man, who
had been vociferous just moments ago, stared at the ground.

“We need no
more distractions at this time. We must pull together until the sun
becomes our friend and ally once again. Be assured. My fetishmen
will not rest until we find her remains.”

Voices rose
around him.

“Enough! I will
send men to come and destroy this thing shortly.”

The islanders
begrudgingly left the beach. For long minutes, Yore lingered, his
eyes on the dead beast before him.

Tamina
experienced an overwhelming desire to reveal herself to him, to put
her arms around his troubled shoulders. But she remembered the lash
of his whip, and how he tried to kill her. He strode away on long
legs.

She emerged and
examined the dead bird. Its sheer size astounded her. Huge enough
for a man to ride on—feathers as long as she was tall. The beak lay
open, the mammoth head tilted to one side.

Poor
baby.

Tamina stroked
at the bushy, down-like hair surrounding the creature’s bull neck.
Her fingers found something hard among the tiny feathers. She
brushed the fur aside, and was shocked to find a leather strap
leading to a saddle hidden under the ruined wings.

“
Oh my,
oh my!”
The bird had
a rider. And Yore know this. He must. Yore so very, very clever.
Tam will find the rider. Before Yore. The rider can be Tam’s friend
and come live with Tam in the cave of the Lady. We
can…

Tamina
was startled by a barely audible groan. A whimper nearly lost in
the chatter of the waves and the constant sea breeze. She strained
her ears. Long moments passed, long enough to make her think she
had imagined the sound…
and there it was again
. Less of a whimper, more of a gasp. She ran into
the ravaged jungle, green eyes searching the mostly destroyed
foliage. With a shriek, she spied a man covered in mud and sand
entangled within a morass of leaves and seaweed.

The cave
of the Lady was at the far end of the island. Despite Yore telling
her she was slow-witted, Tamina was not dim enough to take the
unconscious man to her special beach of ancient and foreboding
heads.
No
one know about the cave of the Lady. Tam’s new special
place.

The rider was
small in stature and surprisingly light, but he was still a
difficult burden. After a long, hard struggle, Tamina finally laid
the mud-covered man on the floor of the cave. He was muscular with
well-proportioned limbs, wearing a body-hugging leather suit.

Water seeped
from the walls to form a trickling stream. Wetting her hands,
Tamina washed the man down. A shock of blond hair. A kind, smooth,
sun-browned feminine face. The leather suit was more impressive
once cleaned, mimicking the colors of the bird now lying dead on
the beach. She turned the man over, cleaning quickly, revealing a
long, black-stained gash from shoulder to hip. As if a giant claw
had raked the flesh. The wound smelled odd and frightened her.

Tam
must get him out of dirty clothes.

When she
unstrapped the rider from his suit, it became apparent that this
was no man at all.

A
handsome woman.

Her underweaves
were crafted from a sheer material Tamina had never seen before.
Soft and yielding to her fingertips. A cloudy green stone, flat
like sea-smoothed shale, hung around her neck on an ornately woven
leather band. Upon it was engraved a majestic flying bird. Tamina
cleaned the rider’s wound as best she could, then took the fine
leather suit outside to dry in the sun.

Other than the
gash, the rider was unharmed. The injury was skin-deep, yet…

She
dying. Tam feels it. Something cold and frozen. Ice… like Yore
said.

Death always
showed itself to Tamina. A shadow. Darkening as the moment
approached.

The
rider will soon pass. Tam don’t want her to die.

Tamina’s
mind flashed back to her childhood, to the dreadful time when
everything changed. She had lived on an isolated farm with her
mother and a small herd of gutes—hardy goat-like animals used for
milk and meat. Tamina helped to raise them, nurturing and loving
them. When one of her favorites fell ill, she saw the shadow of
death growing in the young animal and decided…
to make it go
away
. Prim had come to
her then. Her older sister who told her so many delightful
things.

Wonderful, beautiful Prim.

Mother
would laugh at Tamina, saying
: “If I’d had another brat like you, I’d know. Do
not speak to me about your imaginary sister again.”
But Prim was real. Tamina
recalled a face framed by raven-black hair; calm, pale blue,
haunting eyes; and a sense of security and peace. And Tamina would
never forget her last words.

You
Must Not Try And Save The Gute, Tam,
Prim had said.
It Is Too Dangerous.

“I want to
try.”

No,
Tam. You Must Let The Creature Go.

“I don’t want
to, Prim, I don’t. It’s not fair.”

The
Gute Is A Lowly Creature. You Do Not Understand What You Are
Doing.