Ichu rolled over in the dawn light. It was sunny today, which meant he could bring in crops. He blinked sleep from his eyes and rose, his mind already whirling through in what order he’d need to do things. Eat, then get the tools from the shed, bring in the maize first so it would have a chance to dry out, then the squash, what there was of them…
He'd have to keep an eye on the skies and move quickly. Lately, blue skies only meant a big storm was moving in fast. If he was lucky, he’d get enough to keep him fed and have a little to sell at the market.
“Come back to bed, Ichy,” Kuillay said from a nest of blankets. His strong hand gripped Ichu’s wrist. “It’s too early.”
“I have a farm to run, and it’s a bright day, Kuillay.” Ichu pulled his hand free. Kuillay was the latest in a line of men and women from the Huaca who shared his bed after he won the bodycasting tournament the year previous. None had stayed long. Kuillay had been with him two months so far.
“Can’t you pick that stuff later? At least do the morning ritual with me.” Kuillay peeked imploring eyes from under a pile of jakua-fur layers. He’d brought the expensive blankets with him when he moved in, claiming he couldn’t sleep without them.
The last at least gave Ichu pause. He rarely missed the morning ritual. He could feel his shoulders tightening just thinking about skipping it.
“For me and my lovely eyes, Ichy,” Kuillay implored. “You always say that’s my best feature.”
“Quickly, then,” Ichu threw on loose linen pants and a shirt with an open neck. He skipped starting a fire in favor of a protein-rich breakfast of nuts, grains, and berries that would give him the energy to work in the fields most of the day. When he checked on Kuillay, the man was still tucked under the covers, staring at the ceiling.
“Did you bring me breakfast?” he asked, blinking long eyelashes.
“I…no, Kuillay, I really need to get out in the fields today. You know how important it is to get the crops in when I can.”
“You wouldn’t mind just a little bite for me, would you? Maybe some scrambled eggs and a little fruit?”
And so it went. Ichu wrangled, and Kuillay asked for more. By the time he got the man out of bed, served him breakfast, and went through a rushed version of the morning ritual, dark clouds were marching from the wall of storms toward the mountainous coast.
Ichu lugged baskets, a hoe, and a rake from storage while Kuillay cheered him on from a seat on the porch. The clouds had turned slate gray and were moving faster than any he’d seen in a while. A hurricane? No, it didn’t have the right look to it. Just a big storm then?
He’d only found three good ears of corn by the time the rain started.
The darker clouds were fast approaching, and a glance to Kuillay showed him staring off into the distance. Ichu bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling. After today, the man was gone, no matter how lovely his eyes were. He didn’t know how Kuillay had gotten his citizenship chit, but he probably had a doting grandparent among the elders.
Ichu set the hoe down and placed his feet in Blocking stance, short, and with knees and feet turned in. He began Caterpillar Weaves His Cocoon by tensing his core, and driving the energy out toward his hands. They curled in, then rose as he dropped his shoulders into an accepting form, each move precise. His knees bent further as the glow of the ampuka grew around him. As it did, the rain lessened on his skin, though it was increasing around him. He paced through the moves of the chayu, the gleam from his already wet skin illuminating the rows of sickly corn around him. The blessing of Tiya Aymuray—Aunt Harvest—kept him dry and warm. In minutes he finished, and the rain beat against a shell of light a fingerwidth from his skin.
The chayu would keep for maybe an hour. He was strong—one of the strongest in the Huaca—even though he could tell his ability was slipping. He was into his thirties, and bodycasting, especially the more physical chayus, took a toll on the body. Exact placement was required to bring the ampuka out, to be accepted by the gods. It was why the elders studied, refining the movements for the next generation.
He paced quickly through the corn, placing the ears in a basket he held close to him, under the protection of his arms and the cocoon of the chayu. The stalks had taken in far too much water this season already, and many of the ears showed signs of crazy-top, with long tassels and underdeveloped kernels. They wouldn’t taste good nor have a lot of nutrients, but they were what he could grow here near the coast and the wall of storms.
He could tell the squash were too far gone before he got there. They were moldy and smelly. It had rained every day for nearly a month. He had wasted much of that time with Kuillay. If Silluka had been around, she could have helped. Where was that girl? She had been missing for over a week, probably stealing in the village again.
Ichu stomped to the porch and dropped the meager basket of corn in Kuillay’s lap, who grunted.
“You got mud on my pants!”
“That’s not all you’ll get,” Ichu growled.
“But Ichy…”
“Don’t call me Ichy! Take your innumerable hair products and your jakua covers and go back to the Huaca. Today.”
Kuillay pushed the basket off his lap, pouting. He flounced inside. “Fine. I’ll start getting my things together. Don’t expect me to tell any tales of your prowess in the village.”
Ichu rolled his eyes and picked up the spilled corn. The rain was only getting harder. He needed to pull in the rest of the crops. There were two more fields, farther out. If Kuillay hadn’t delayed him so much, he would have got to them already.
Silluka. He needed her back here. They’d have to pull up all the plants and restructure the fields for even more drainage. With the mountain rising under him, the drainage never stayed level from month to month. It was a good thing there were several growing seasons a year. He’d heard tales from their parents, heard from their parents, that the crops had been much better nearer the coast, before the Huaca moved inland as the mountains rose.
He got the corn laid out inside so it would dry as much as it could then went to the main room of the house, an open area suitable for bodycasting. It was time to bring Silluka back home.
Caterpillar Weaves His Cocoon had worn off and Ichu started from Dexterity stance this time, feet light on the ground, as his arms opened up and outward, like great wings. This chayu was difficult, even for him, and he ignored Kuillay’s childish stomping and banging. Head up, feet moving like skimming over the treetops. His fingers opened wide as they came around, scooping air as if he were gathering all the signs and portents around him. The ampuka grew around him again as Eagle Watches From On High took form, a shape described in the air by his body. It was that of a great bird, wings gathering air currents, eyes sharp enough to see through stone. His feet made questing movements this way and that, covering a surprising amount of ground.
Several minutes later, he pulled his arms close, tucked in, though his head was held high in perfect posture. He focused on his little sister, her habits, her movements, how she acted and what she wished for. His connection with Tiye Kwirpuyay—Entle Magic—granted him the means to track her down.
“I want you gone by the time I get back!” He called as he opened the door of the old farmhouse. Kuillay grunted something angry in the other room.
He would have been concerned the passionate man might break or steal something on his way out, except there was nothing to steal and the house was near to falling down. They would migrate to a new, better Huaca soon. Ichu just needed to last until then.
Eagle Watches From On High gave him the signs he needed to track his sister. She was obviously in the city, and Ichu ran the thirty minutes it took to get there, unencumbered by harvest or baggage and even getting a bit ahead of the rain. It seemed to be centralized right around the farm. Often the storms were worse nearer the coast.
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Once in the village, the eagle’s signs grew, standing out with a glow whenever he crossed where she had stood or walked.
He found three nests in abandoned buildings, though one had two undesirables—old men—living there now. All seemed a few days old. Had something happened to her recently?
Silluka. She thought she was lesser because she couldn’t bodycast like the others in the Huaca. Ichu knew she was smart, and tenacious when she put her mind to something. She had simply dismissed ever working with the rest of the Huaca because she saw how they treated undesirables. And it was a fair assessment, but Ichu had offered to help her train many times. Even if she couldn’t summon the ampuka, she could still help the rest of the village. Many houses had undesirable members, sheltered by the rest of the family, who led normal lives.
Ichu found more recent tracks near the center of the village, hasty steps standing out in yesterday’s mud. The glow of Silluka’s trail. If he’d gotten here after the rain, they likely would have been washed away, even to eagle’s eyes.
His sister’s footsteps were confused, moving back and forth across the city, as if she’d been chased. What was she doing here? Then they led, slow and dragging, toward the elder’s building. Had she finally been caught stealing? He should have been here for her, but the farm took far too much of his time as it was.
He rolled his shoulders, mentally getting ready for another fight with the elders over her, thinking of reasons to explain why she could be a contributing member of the Huaca. Except in front of the elder’s building, her footsteps led away again. She’d gone inside, then left.
Had she actually tried to test out for her citizen chit?
Whatever the events, he rushed after these clearer footprints, leading across the Huaca to the outskirts, following someone, then past a strange shuffle as if she’d danced with them for a moment, then following them closer into the Allwiya quarters. Huaca didn’t know much about the strange little beings. He traded with them sometimes for farm implements, but they always seemed disappointed he didn’t want more from them. What, he couldn’t imagine. He had everything he needed with his chayus.
He knocked at a small door where Silluka and the other person’s footprints ended. The second set led away again, only an hour or so old, but his sister hadn’t exited. One of the Allwiya answered, signing fast at him. He had a few words, but not enough to make sense of what they were saying.
“My sister?” he tried. “I’m looking for her. Her tracks led me here.”
Several tentacles waved at him, but he didn’t catch the meaning past the term for “tool,” or “implement.”
“She’s about this high?” He gestured to his chest. “Missing part of her right arm?”
The tentacles seemed exasperated, and waved him inside. Ichu stared at the entrance. He wasn’t sure his shoulders would even fit through.
“I think I’m too big for your little house—” he started but the tentacles cut him off again, cycling through yellow and orange. Were those good colors? Bad?
There was a griding noise and Ichu stepped back. The entire wall was moving up, opening with hidden hinges into a passage nearly as tall as he was.
“Oh. Thank you,” he said, and ducked into the little room filled with the knick-knacks of the Allwiya hanging on the walls. They loved having little bits of metal and wood around them, as if the mere presence was comforting. They seemed to create them from the trash they sorted through.
From in here, he could hear voices, one of them definitely Silluka and the other a strange, high voice. They were behind the walls somewhere and he looked down at the Allwiya, shorter than his knees.
“You know where she is, don’t you. Can you take me to her?”
The wave this time seemed more like a “calm down” gesture, and Ichu frowned as the creature leisurely walked across the room on many tentacles and pulled a series of other levers. The far wall, covered in the Allwiya’s ornaments, slid aside, revealing a room covered in piles of garbage, with Silluka and a second Allwiya, no bigger than his hand, draping wires across his sister’s good arm like they were trying to turn her into another of their ornaments.
“…you can position it in exactly the right place for the chayu?” Silluka was saying. She still hadn’t noticed him.
“Yes, but measurements are essential. Limbs must break in right places.” Was that high voice coming from that Allwiya? Ichu was about to rush forward at the mention of breaking limbs when the little creature smacked their head. “Bend. Joints with bones are so strange. Oh. Greetings.”
The Allwiya’s eyes had turned to Ichu, and he cleared his throat. Silluka’s head popped up and her eyes hooded, as if he’d found her doing something wrong. He wasn’t sure what he had found, in fact.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. She didn’t drop her arm, where the Allwiya was still scuttling around, wrapping and unwrapping bits of wood and metal.
“Hello to you too. Those are the first words after you don’t come home for a week?”
“I figured you wouldn’t want me to be around with Kuillay and his lovely eyes.”
Ichu bit his tongue. He’d deserved that. “He’s gone. I told him to get out by the time I came back.”
“Was it the jakua sheets?” Silluka asked. Her face was carefully blank.
Ichu tried to hold in his smile, but he finally gave in to his smirk. “A bit, yeah. That and the names.”
“But why would that bother you, Iiiichy?” Now Silluka grinned and Ichu let himself laugh in response. The Allwiya was looking from him to his sister with their little bug eyes.
“Alright, I’m sorry. But will you come home? I need to get the harvest in.”
Silluka’s smile slipped and she looked to the Allwiya. “I’ve finally found…something,” she said. “I don’t know what it is. But I think Lugopo might be able to help me.”
“Help you with what?” Ichu watched the Allwiya, who waved at their name. Lugopo, evidently.
“With contorting body.” They smacked the metal circlet. “With bodycasting. Only a first try. Need much time to scheme. To craft.”
“But you can’t…” Ichu trailed off, but he’d already seen the change in his sister’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“You’re just like the rest of them,” Silluka blurted. “Some people don’t think I need a citizen chit just to travel with everyone else. If I had only succeeded at…” she clamped her lips closed.
Ichu cocked his head. Had his guess been right? “Did you…? Did you test with the elders for a citizen chit? Without practicing?” Silluka’s face darkened. “And you failed.” It might have been the residue of Eagle Watches From On High—it had faded once he wasn’t concentrating on it—or it might have just been his intuition about his little sister. “Why didn’t you come to me? This is exactly what we’ve talked about before. I could have helped you.”
Silluka’s frown dragged her lips down into a pout. Ichu knew he should stop but the words rolled from him. He’d told her.
“You only have one chance to test at your age. With the migration, they won’t let you stay with the main caravan. They won’t let you stay with me. You’ve got to come home, now, and help me get in the harvest. At least if I have something to sell, I can raise a few more spokes so you can trade with people on your way. You’ll have to stay behind the Huaca, but maybe I can—”
“Ichu!” Silluka cut him off. “I’m not going back. I’m not helping you bring in the harvest. It’s not worth it.” She lifted her arm with Lugopo curled around it. The Allwiya huddled in like they didn’t want to be the focus of the conversation. “The Allwiya have helped me more in one night than you have in two years since our parents died. I’m staying here with them.”
“No.” Stubborn girl. Ichu set his feet in Strength stance. Tortoise Shoulders His Load was so familiar, he could feel the ampuka connecting with the very first foot stamp. His back rounded as he braced his legs, letting the connection to Tiyu Tiksimuyu—Uncle Earth—form.
“Let her go, Lugopo,” he growled. “Silluka is coming with me.”
“Fascinating,” the Allwiya chirped. “Would you mind me stealing—measuring—as you perform the chayu?” They leapt from Silluka’s arm, bits of wire dangling from their tentacles, and began holding them up near Ichu’s calves.
“I’m not a baby anymore, Ichu,” Silluka said. She looked like she would bolt, but Ichu literally filled the only exit. He rushed through the chayu, sloppy, but finishing it in seconds while he stared his sister down.
“Last chance. Are you coming back to the farm with me, or am I carrying you?”
“I won’t go back there under my own power.” Silluka crossed her arms.
Ichu stepped around the little Allwiya, who gave a chirp of disappointment at not finishing whatever they were doing to his ankles. The glow of the ampuka surrounded him, making things he carried light as feathers. He hoisted Silluka up, carrying her in his arms, and stomped out of the little hut. Once outside, he slung her up to his shoulders, ignoring the blows she rained down on his arms and head. He’d done this hundreds of times when she was little, carrying her faster than she could ever go herself. He started the run back to the farm, ignoring her cries and protestations. It was for her own good.
Silluka eventually calmed down as they got closer. She must have realized her complaints didn’t do anything. They fell into silence, Silluka riding his shoulders in her usual position with her left arm crossed over her stump like it had been her idea.
As they entered the rainstorm surrounding the farm—a strange, centralized storm then—Ichu picked up his pace and tried to plan for the quickest way to harvest the rest of the farm. With Silluka there…
“He’s still here?” It was the first thing she’d said since she stopped screaming. Ichu glanced up to see a pile of blankets and hair products on the front porch of the house, Kuillay standing behind them with his arms crossed.
“Uncles curse that man,” Ichu grumbled. He set Silluka down, finally. “He probably just doesn’t want to get wet. How about if you help me kick him out?”
“That might even be worth the ride here,” Silluka said, still scowling. She knew how much the farm meant to him. He’d get an earful later, but she’d likely help, for a time. She’d sneak back to those Allwiya later but at least he’d get a few days’ work from her.
Ichu had only taken one step forward when what looked like a ball of spiky metal shot out of the dark clouds above the house. It blasted down in a trail of fire, exploding into the roof of the house. The entire structure crashed down like a pile of sticks, burying Kuillay and his blankets and hair products, and the ball rolled from the wreckage into the cornfield, smashing the plants to pulp and digging a gash in the wet mud.