SILENT ASIDE FROM DROPLETS HEWN FROM THE PEAKS BY ROAMING GUSTS AS THEY SPLASH BACK TO ONCE AGAIN BECOME LOST IN THE GREATER WHOLE.
Without dropping the ember sparking on his fingertip, Tomas pushed the curtain fully aside and ducked into the hide, hunching over to keep his head from brushing the roof.
As he squatted in the dark interior, light flickering from his ember, Tomas replied, “I never thought I would see you again either, Ki’nam, I had intended to keep it that way until all breath left my body. And don’t call me ‘little brother’, you’re only two hours my elder.”
“Ah, ever the dramatic,” Ki’nam grunted hoarsely. “If you’re going to blast me in the back with that ember you’re sparking, then do it, or put the damn thing out before you catch this whole place on fire.” Tomas quenched the ember, shuffling his totem back inside his sleeve.
“I was half convinced you were about to do the same.”
“We both know if I wanted you dead, you would have never made it through that curtain.”
“Ha, ever the cocksure, Ki’nam. I suppose both of us inherited the worst of our father. I've learned a lot since I left to join the Band, you know. It has been over fifteen cycles since you last laid eyes on me.”
“Fifteen cycles since you last laid eyes on me you mean. You never were exceptionally perceptive, not that it matters.”
“Perceptive enough to notice a lack of footprints on the way here, not even covered ones. That ta’xaral is yours then?”
“She didn’t give you any trouble on the way in, did she?”
“No, she was content enough with the xik. How long have you been following me then?”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Ki’nam finally put down the object in his hands and turned around. His darkened face impossible to read in the shadows. “Not at all actually, Balam sent me a missive, I had to come and see for myself. It’s true then? Our father is dead?” Tomas solemnly nodded.
“I performed the conflagration myself.”
“And the ashes?”
“Consecrated, as he always wanted. I cast most of them in Lukan at the lakeshore where we all cast our mothers’ together. I brought the rest here. It felt right,” Tomas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, “it felt like that’s what he would have wanted. They’re outside.” Tomas gestured towards the entrance.
“Yes, it does feel right. I think it’s what he’d’ve wanted. It’s why I’m here, I suppose.” Ki’nam smiled, almost sheepishly. Tomas figured it was supposed to be disarming, but the grin sent shivers down his spine. “He sent me letters, you know. Hundreds of them, over the cycles. I read them all. Never sent one in reply though, I couldn’t find it in myself to give him that.”
Tomas nodded knowingly. Ki’nam reached behind himself and brought around a pair of stone bowls, holding one out towards Tomas, who took it apprehensively, it was cold to the touch.
“Tanajim, just like mother used to make. I harvested the gourds myself on my journey here.”
Tomas looked down at the bowl, the broth thick with small chunks of the gourds’ orange flesh. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it, the earthy aroma filling his mind with memories of slurping down bowl after bowl with Ki’nam on the lakeshores and riversides of their youth.
“I’m not going to heat it up for you like our mother used to.” Ki’nam sneered, snapping Tomas out of his reverie. “You can manage heating it up without burning it, can’t you?”
“Of course I can,” barked Tomas, grasping his totem again, concentrating and directing the heat gently into the palm of his hand, which he had cupped around the base of the bowl, and slowly infused the broth with heat. He glanced up at Ki’nam who was holding out a carved wooden spoon, Tomas snatched the spoon and began stirring.
Silence fell over the brothers as they quietly ate the broth.