Silluka wanted to go to Hufi’s body, to help out. She had spoken with him minutes ago. It didn’t seem real. Several other villagers were dead, and there were more with broken bones, cuts, and scrapes. Their village had weathered hurricanes and tidal waves, ash from volcanoes and violent winds. But just one of the turtlemen had decimated their most powerful bodycasters.

But Elder Quilqi kept a grip on her arm while she peered at the dead invader.

“You’re coming with me, girl,” she said. “and I want your brother there too. The Allwiya can fix him up.”

The other elders seemed to defer to her, Elder Papaki helped her draft several of the less-injured Huaca to drag the deceased turtleman back to the village, to the Allwiya’s section. Several performed Tortoise Shoulders His Load to help carry the body. Ichu did not, his hand pressed to his side. She wondered how many of his ribs the turtleman had broken.

Silluka walked next to her brother, both helping to pull the corpse, though they didn’t add much to the effort. Ichu winced in pain, and Silluka only had one hand to drag with. There was no good place to grasp part of the turtleman. He seemed to be made of spikes, rough fibers, and coarse skin.

“I’m sorry about Hufi,” Ichu said to her as they trudged with the others, heaving the body behind them. “I know you played with him as children.”

“He was a spoiled brat,” Silluka sniffed, then relented. “but I didn’t want to see him go that way.”

“The strong survive in the Huaca,” Ichu said.

“But do they have to?” Silluka asked. Her brother stared back for a moment, as if uncomprehending.

“Why must only the strong survive?” Silluka asked. “Shouldn’t the strong protect the weak? Isn’t that what they’re there for?” There had been no undesirables in this fight. They were likely hiding in their houses.

Ichu considered this for a moment. “You’ll have to ask the elders,” he finally said. “Philosophy is their purview. I’ll stick with bodycasting.”

“That’s another thing,” Silluka continued. If he wouldn’t answer that question, she had others. “How long has Elder Quilqi been here? I don’t know as many in the Huaca as you do, but I feel like I would have remembered her from when I was a kid. I remember Elder Papaki.”

Ichu shook his head. “She arrived a few years ago from a neighboring village, she said. It had been decimated by a volcano, and she traveled north to find someone to take her in. I don’t remember her having such a high position with the elders before.”

“Not just a high position—she was at the forefront of the elders judging the citizen’s test.” Silluka played back the memory in her head. Had the others deferred to the old woman?

“Only because they know competence when they see it.” Silluka and Ichu both jumped in surprise. How had Elder Quilqi moved so silently? “Come on. I’ll tell you more at Lugopo’s workshop.”

* * *

Elder Quilqi shooed the other Huaca away after the turtleman lay in a heap outside the building where Silluka first met Lugopo. That seemed more than just a day ago, now.

“You two stay with me,” she directed. “I need someone with a good head on their shoulders to bounce ideas off of. I’m worried about this beast.” She kicked the turtleman’s leg with a thock like dense heartwood.

Once the others were gone, Elder Quilqi knocked at the door to Lugopo’s workshop. The little Allwiya scuttled out with Muola, ranging around the corpse in wonder. Both let their tentacles roam on the body, as if their limbs had minds of their own.

“Such joy for this find! Dissection will lead to many new revelations. We will dance around the dead and rejoice!” Lugopo tapped the circlet around their head. “Will study this specimen for new information. Apologies. I am still working on the translation circlet.”

“But what is he?” Silluka asked.

“You saw him first,” Elder Quilqi shot back.

“He came from beyond the Wall of Storms,” Ichu murmured. “He must be one who lives on the island approaching us. If this is the first sign of their power, we are in much danger.”

Lugopo, tiny as they were, dragged out several lengths of rope, chain, and strange flat pieces that had a similar consistency to their tentacles. They directed the others—tapping on their translator here and there when it spit out the wrong word—to wrap up the corpse. Once that was done, Muola turned yellow, scampered inside, and pulled a lever. There was a loud whirring noise and the body was dragged into the workshop.

“We’ll leave them to their work,” Elder Quilqi said. “Now, you had questions for me. Or about me, as it were.”

Ichu was in front of her, Silluka realized. Was he trying to protect her? Could he? How strong was the Elder, to kill the turtleman in one strike?

“Where are you from?” Ichu asked. “You’re new to the Huaca.” Silluka noticed he didn’t mention her power.

“Yes, I’m not from here, but that isn’t the right question.” The elder put her hands on her hips.

“How are you so influential among the elders already?”

“That’s the right question.” Elder Quilqi pointed at Silluka, then darted an annoyed glare at Ichu. “Thundering clouds, boy, you don’t need to act like a mother jakua guarding her young. I think I’ve demonstrated I have the good of your Huaca as my interest.”

“And you also didn’t answer my question,” Silluka reminded her.

“You’re right. I didn’t. But my expertise will be invaluable while we deal with what’s coming. The elders are spooked. They’re already speaking of moving up the trek inland. The turtleman was powerful, but this little out-of-the-way village will soon encounter others nearly as strong.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“But this is the Huaca,” Ichu protested. “We’re the people blessed by the gods. Who else could be more powerful?”

Silluka noticed the elder still hadn’t answered them, but her misdirection was too tempting not to follow up on.

“You know more about bodycasting than the rest of the elders, too,” Silluka accused.

The elder nodded her head to both points. “I do, and there are plenty who are more powerful. Stars and rain, boy, what about the storm warriors? You’ve seen them with your own eyes.”

Ichu stared back as if he’d never considered the concept. Silluka looked up over his head, where clouds spilled away from the Wall of Storms, out past the cliffs of the coast. Even from here, she could see the small forms zipping in and out of the constantly falling water.

“Then are they gods, or people?” she asked. Those in the village even had a storm warrior once a year where they prayed to their protectors.

“What’s the difference?” Elder Quilqi shrugged. “If you could fly around a waterspout and keep them from decimating the villages hanging on to life on this coast, would you be considered a god?”

Silluka exchanged a look with her brother and opened her mouth to argue, but Muola scuttled between them at knee-height, waving two tentacles in the air in patterns, skin flashing between green, blue, and white.

“Ah. Looks like Lugopo has found something already,” the elder said, and followed the little Allwiya inside.

“I’m sure we can ask her again later,” Ichu said, then turned after the two.

Inside, they found Lugopo covered in greenish-black blood, waving three different wicked-looking tools in separate tentacles.

“Such discovery! My skin is burning! Ouch!”

They didn’t tap the communication circlet, but promptly dashed on multiple tentacles to a bucket of water and jumped in. They emerged a moment later, glistening and wet. The blood was gone, but Silluka could see pockmarks on their bulbous head where the blood must have started corroding.

“Are you well?” she asked, but Lugopo waved the query away with a tentacle.

“Personal safety is less important than new information.” They pointed to a chunk of flesh removed from the turtleman’s side, dark and slick. “Blunted my scalpel. These tur-tle-men”—the translation circlet choked on the unfamiliar gesture of Lugopo’s tentacles—“must be powerful and vicious, waiting to crush their unsuspecting victims with their fearsome strength!”

They reached up and fiddled with the circlet. “That is, their environment must be a harsh one. Their blood is caustic, and they have very tough skin.” They held up two empty vials. “Also these. They seem to be the source of the turtle-man’s power.”

“Was that all you found?” Elder Quilqi leaned forward, by Silluka’s side.

Lugopo gestured a negative. “Several more empty vials. Only one still full. I do not know its dark purpose—that is, what it does.” They raised another vial, this one with a viscous, purplish fluid in it.

Ichu took it, passing it in front of one of the ever-lit candles in Lugopo’s workshop. Silluka saw flecks inside the liquid, drifting languidly.

“I’ll take that.” Elder Quilqi slipped the vial from Ichu’s hands, as smooth as nut oil. Her brother’s eyes followed the vial as the elder tucked it away somewhere. “It’s likely how these people connect to their gods, just as the Allwiya do with their technology.”

“Like the Tiyus, Tiyas, and Tiyes? How many are there? Why don’t they worship the ones we do?” Silluka wondered how much more Elder Quilqi knew about the world. The Storm Warriors weren’t the Aunts, Uncles, and Entles, but they were connected…somehow. She wasn’t sure how. How much had their village lost, over the years? What else was out there, on their island?

Surprisingly, Lugopo took up the explanation. “I have mentioned the gods of the Allwiya before. Whirling Abyss. Crawling Dark of Squirming. Manylegs of Reaching. These are not like yours. Would not assume the turtle-man’s would be the same either.”

“You only have three gods?” Ichu asked. Silluka looked to the elder, who had her arms crossed. She must know all this already. Why was it not common knowledge in the Huaca?

Then she knew. The Huaca was powerful, but it was not smart. The elders studied their ancient scrolls, but the younger bodycasters only practiced. They had to, to get the intricate gestures of the chayus correct, to summon the ampuka. She’d had more time than most to think about her situation. She didn’t practice the chayus all the time. Did the undesirables ask such questions?

Lugopo made an affirmative gesture to Ichu’s question. “Three and many. The triplet elders spawn many lesser gods, though we do not revere them. Whirling Abyss makes the mind spin with new connections. Crawling Dark of Squirming gives us the ingenuity to make those ideas reality, and know which ones veer too close to the abyss. Finally, Manylegs of Reaching lets us craft like no other, giving us the thrill of creation.”

“You know of the Aunts, Uncles, and Entles of the Huaca?” Ichu asked.

Lugopo waved three tentacles, an indeterminate gesture. “I know of your Tiye Kwirpuyay. They are the one who created your chayus, which I study.”

Ichu stood straight, hands behind his back, and Silluka barely kept from rolling her eyes. Always the good student.

“Death and Life begat us all, Death and Life begat the gods.

Firstborn is Tiye Kwirpuyay, Entle Magic, by which all is done.

Second is Tiyu Llamkay, Uncle Smith, to fashion our bodies.

Third is Tiye Khuyay, Entle Love, to join us together.

Fourth is Tiya Qhalikay, Aunt Healing, to keep us whole.

Fifth is Tiyu Pacha, Uncle Sky, to keep the stars up.

Sixth is Tiya Qucha, Aunt Sea, to divide the Sky.

Seventh is Tiyu Tiksimuyu, Uncle Earth, to hold up our feet.

Eighth is Tiya Aymuray, Aunt Harvest, to sustain us all.

Death and Life will welcome us home, Death and Life will show us the way.”

“The eight siblings keep our land protected, and the Huaca sheltered,” Silluka added. “Each one protects us from the calamities of the earth, sea, or sky, keeps our bodies from injury, feeds us, and keeps our magic strong and our community whole.” She hadn’t heard the children’s rhyme in a long time. Perhaps Hufi had been right. She could have been helping the Huaca, rather than leeching off it. She glanced at her stump. She’d made excuses her whole life for what she couldn’t do. She could have spent that time learning what the Huaca had lost. Had it kept her from the ampuka? From being a citizen? Maybe it was time to find out what she could do.

“Eight! So many barriers against the endless void, But you have ten, yes? More than the eight?” Lugopo reached up on all eight tentacles, standing on the dissection table. They still had to strain backward to meet Silluka’s eyes.

Elder Quilqi poked one finger at the gash in the turtleman’s side. “Grandfather Death and Grandmother Life no longer grace this world. Even the gods strive to achieve what they have. But that’s not what we’re discussing here. We’re wondering about the gods of this thing.” She turned bright eyes to Lugopo. “Your people came here more recently. What do you know of the island you called your home before it impacted the Huaca’s land?”

“We have many records,” Lugopo gestured. “We are blessed to be the terrors of the boiling ocean”—they tapped the circlet—“that is, we are good seafarers, and traveled all around our island and this larger landmass. Our original island is now a mountain range, far to the northwest, but we have insinuated ourselves all through the villages of the Huaca. From knowledge passed down, your island is several times bigger. It is attracting all the other local landmasses.”

Silluka cocked her head. Attracting other islands? Was that why the turtleman’s island was coming right for them?

“By the speed of its approach, I would guess this new island is even smaller than yours,” Elder Quilqi cautioned.

“But their warriors are fierce, and powerful.” Lugopo prodded the corpse with one of their scalpels. It didn’t even cut the skin. “Whoever protects them also gives great power.”

“Which means this village has little chance on its own,” Elder Quilqi said.

“But where will we go? There are volcanoes to the south, sea to the east and north, and only desert to the west.” Ichu was frowning at all of them, hands on hips. He must be as confused as Silluka was, but he hid it well. How ignorant was their village? Did the elders know these things?

“There is far more than desert, boy, but we will need to be strong to cross it. We must make preparations.” She turned to Silluka. “You had best come with me. You’ve demonstrated you’re no good at the physical chayus practiced here. Perhaps it will be easier to teach you the mental ones.”

“They’re a myth.” Ichu stated.

“Not so.”

“Mental chayus?” Silluka had never heard of them before, though it seemed her brother had. “But are there chayus the elders here don’t know?”

Quilqi laughed. “Just wait, girl. You’ll find out soon enough.”