“I have no idea what that is. Have you heard of anything like it?” asked Dirt. He turned so he could gauge their fear and consider how much he wanted to share. Both children showed trepidation, but leaned toward him as if to listen better.
“Not me,” said Biandina.
“Or me,” said Antelmu, unnecessarily.
Dirt said, “I woke up last night and there was a rushing sound like whoosh, whoosh, shhh, shhh. It was rustling the bushes Antelmu put in the hall, but there was no door for anything to come in through. It was coming from all over, though, and I didn’t know what it was, so I looked out the window…” He leaned out again and pointed at the circle of snowless ground around the tower. “And I saw something black, like water, sort of, or fog. I’m still not sure what it was. It seeped up all around the tower, but never came in our window. I made a light, and it didn’t like that, and I chased it off. It didn’t come back so I just went back to sleep.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” said Biandina, raising her voice, fist clenched.
“Should I have?” asked Dirt, taken aback at the sudden outburst.
“Yes! What if it was dangerous? Maybe I would have recognized it!”
“Do you recognize it from the description? Black foggy stuff, a little bit shiny, that goes whoosh, whoosh?”
“No, but—”
Dirt shrugged. “I just didn’t want to wake you up. That’s all.”
“Okay, listen, when Socks isn’t here, I’m in charge, understand? You’re a child, Dirt. You’re too little to do everything on your own. That’s not me saying something bad about you. It’s just the truth. I don’t care if you grew up alone in a forest and ate bugs all day with no one around to tell you no. Now you’re here, and things have changed. I’m in charge.”
“You’re not in charge,” argued Antelmu.
“Oh? Then who is? You, little brother? Are you gonna fight me for it? I don’t need both arms to bend you into torce-pane.”
Rather than be intimidated or angry, Antelmu seemed exasperated. “We’re not at home. Mamma and Babbu aren’t here to put you in charge. You can’t just order me around all the time anymore,” he said.
“I’m older than you, I’ve seen more than you, I’m smarter than you, and I’m still stronger than you!”
“Shut up, Biandina, no you’re not! Even if you had both arms I could beat you in a fight. Stop trying to do stuff you can’t do.”
“Try me! With Socks here, I’m happy to do what he says because, well, look at him. But he’s not here, and Dirt doesn’t even know how to tie three different kinds of knots. He’s just a little boy, no matter how strong he is, so he can’t be the one in charge. So why should it be you instead of me?”
“I don’t wanna take your orders, Biandina! And do you know why? Because you make stupid decisions!” said Antelmu, raising his voice. He was clearly angry, but there was a tinge of guilt on his face from voicing things he felt should stay unsaid.
“I make stupid decisions? That’s a stupid thing to say for someone who’s following me. Are you confident about your own smarts? You didn’t even know about the Square Tower. Just because you won a horse early, you think you’re our new Prosperu.”
“Well, neither are you!” spat Antelmu. Something in her words had hurt him. Dirt could see it on the boy’s face.
Biandina didn’t back down, though. “No, I’m not, but at least I tried to do something about it! Maybe that was a stupid decision, but here you are, following my example like a good little lamb.”
“Why does anyone have to be in charge at all!?” yelled Antelmu.
Dirt grew more perplexed the louder and hotter the argument got. Marina had argued with her two men, but never like this. Èlia and Màxim had disagreed sometimes and gotten annoyed, but never to the point of anger. If these two were siblings, weren’t they supposed to be nicer to each other than to anyone else?
“You don’t want anyone in charge? Maybe we should just split up and go our own ways. Maybe you can go find another horse, if you’d rather be on your own. Maybe you can wander all the way back home,” said Biandina.
“Shut up! Why are you being like this!?”
“Why are you being like this! You started it!” yelled Biandina.
Dirt interrupted, “How mad are you two, exactly? Are you about to start fighting? Do I need to worry about someone getting pushed out the window and dying?”
“Mind your own business. You don’t even know her,” said Antelmu. He turned to leave, intending to stomp out the doorway, but it was still covered in stone and he only made it two steps before he noticed and stopped. He huffed angrily and said, “Can you open this, please?”
“No,” said Dirt.
The room went silent, but it was not empty of communication. Anger swirled between the two siblings, tinged with guilt and no small amount of fear.
“Do you do this a lot? Argue like this?” Dirt asked.
“I said to mind your own business,” muttered Antelmu, growing surly, since he couldn’t escape.
Dirt ignored that. “Trees don’t argue and if wolves got this mad at each other, someone’s guts would be on the floor. I don’t have a lot of experience with humans, so is this normal?”
“It’s not normal. He’s just impossible to deal with,” said Biandina. She went to fold her arms, but couldn’t. How long until she unlearned that particular reflex, he wondered?
“So are you,” said Antelmu.
Dirt watched them for a moment, trying to decipher what was really going on. Peeking at their thoughts didn’t help, since they were just repeating the same sorts of things they’d been saying aloud. With more context, of course, like pictures of home and prior arguments, and with things they left unsaid. Horrible things that weren’t true but might have worked to win the argument.
“I’ve just never seen anyone get so mad at something without trying to kill it,” said Dirt. “I didn’t know humans could be like this. Nothing happened and you’re trying to start a war. Tell you what, I’ll just toss my knife on the floor and you can see who gets it first.”
Both children shifted uncomfortably. “Then what?” asked Biandina.
“What do you think?” said Dirt. Hoping this wasn’t a fatal misjudgment, he threw it on the floor right between them. “Go on. I won’t interfere, if this is what you want to do.”
Dirt took a step back and sat against the wall, then folded his arms around his knees to look as small as he could. That left Antelmu and Biandina towering over him, faces losing their fire.
It didn’t resolve everything, not completely. Both children were too stubborn for that. But it did end the argument. Antelmu kept an ember of resentment burning, lest he lose some of his blossoming self-pride, and Biandina retained her indignation, which seemed tied to her sense of worth.
Still, as the painful silence drew on and the dagger sat untouched but not unwatched, the mood softened. The younger brother relented first and said, “Biandina can be in charge. Until Socks gets back.”
She quickly followed up with, “I promise not to order you around for no reason. We can work together. Is that alright?”
“Yes,” said Antelmu.
“I do need your help. I just want to be organized,” said Biandina.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“It’s fine,” said Antelmu.
“Thanks,” said Biandina.
Antelmu picked up the knife gingerly and almost dropped it. The thought of actually hurting Biandina with it turned it hotter than red embers and he didn’t want to touch it. He handed it back to Dirt.
Dirt slid it back in its sheath and both siblings looked visibly relieved.
Biandina turned to Dirt and said, “Don’t do anything like that ever again. We would never hurt each other.”
“You forget, I was raised by trees and my best friend is a wolf. Trees rarely disagree and they never argue, and wolves kill when they get that angry. I don’t know where between those two extremes I’m supposed to sit. I’m learning to be human by watching you two,” said Dirt. “I hope I learn correctly.”
Both children lost a bit more of their anger, adding embarrassment in its place. They were still too stubborn to apologize, but that was fine. They were still children, for a few more years.
Dirt sighed. Where had this come from, this little correctional? It had arisen instinctively and he felt like old Avitus, teaching… someone. Had he ever had offspring? Dirt held his hand out and tried to remember the feel of a small head under his palm. Nothing came to him. Perhaps he had living descendants somewhere; maybe even everyone. Generation after generation as his seed spread from one line to the next through marriage, until every living human was his scion. Or perhaps Avitus had only had students and acolytes, and all that was left of him was Dirt and a cursed reputation.
Well, he’d have to try to keep the instructing to a minimum, or he’d embarrass himself. Avitus might have been wise and knowledgeable, but to whatever degree Dirt was wise, he certainly wasn’t knowledgeable.
“Can you open the door, for real? Or else I’m gonna pee out the window,” said Antelmu, shifting his weight to his other foot. Biandina snorted out a sudden chuckle.
Dirt shot to his feet. He said, “I was fine until you said that. Oh, wow, I need to hurry now.”
He kicked the thin stone sheet and burst through it, then ran down the hallway laughing. Antelmu raced behind him, but neither of them could run at full sprint, which made it even funnier. They both made it all the way down the stairs and out of the tower, with Biandina close behind. Exaggerated sighs of relief punctuated by giggling banished whatever darkness had descended on them earlier.
After a slim breakfast, they followed Biandina up to the top of the tower to get a better look.
From the seventh floor, the landscape was broader than the second floor, but they saw nothing new. A circle of snowless ground around the tower, and a wide trail of it leading off a good distance away, to a gray lump that looked like a rocky outcropping. That was all. The ground wasn’t even wet—they’d seen that when they went outside—and the snow hadn’t been pushed to the sides. It was simply gone, leaving flattened grass, and dry patches of pale, rocky soil.
“Do you think we should go see what’s over there?” asked Biandina, nodding at the gray outcropping.
“Nope,” said Dirt. “Maybe if Socks was here, or if you two weren’t. I can run pretty fast if I need to get away, but not while carrying you two.”
“We shouldn’t disturb it,” said Antelmu. He stepped over to a different wall, gazing out in a different direction. Then over to the other side.
Dirt looked with his mind-sight for anything unusual, but nothing stood out. That gray lumpy area at the end of the trail was too far, if it had anything alive inside in the first place, and nothing edible was in range either. Maybe a bird would come by later.
“What are you looking for?” Biandina asked when Antelmu came back, making an effort to sound friendly.
“Somewhere else we could find shelter. I wish I’d gotten my tent off Boulder, but it was folded under the saddle, and I didn’t think about it,” said Antelmu.
“Did you see anywhere promising?”
“No. But there might be a cave or something. And there could be something in the ruins that we missed.”
Biandina thought for a moment, then said, “Antelmu, do you think you and Dirt could find some game?”
“Of course. Why just us? Are you gonna do something else?”
“Let’s see if I can do this with one hand…” She raised her hand to her mouth, bent her fingers into a weird shape, and stuck them between her lips. Then she blew, and at first it just made a wind sound, but she tried a few more times with adjustments, and soon produced a sharp, loud whistle. She did it again and made an even louder one, so loud Dirt went to plug his ears.
“Looks like you can,” said Antelmu with a slight smile.
“Yep. I think what I’ll do, is I’ll stay up here and keep watch. If I whistle once, that means I saw something and you should come back right away,” said Biandina. “I thought of something, and it’s, what if the reason the wolves said to wait here is because it’s the safest place? So we should stay here, if possible. I think we need to plan on that. But if I whistle three times, like this,” and here she gave three quick whistles, almost chirps, “then that means I saw something, and you need to flee.”
It took Antelmu only a moment to realize that she meant for them to leave her behind, and smacked his tongue like his mouth had suddenly gone dry. “Okay. We can do that.”
She added, “Go the other direction, not toward that thing.”
“I know.”
The two siblings squared off for a second, and Dirt wondered if they were about to hug. They didn’t, though, and Antelmu said, “We’ll be back soon.”
Dirt followed the older boy down the stairs and back to the room they’d slept in, where he collected his bow and arrows. Once he had them, Antelmu began walking quietly and descended the stairs.
He took on a serious air once they got outside and stopped speaking, only motioning with hand gestures. Some were obvious, like ‘follow’, but for others Dirt had to look at Antelmu’s mind to see what he meant. There was a signal for wind direction, and another that meant ‘don’t step on this’, and one for ‘game spotted.’
It was tremendous fun, it turned out, sneaking around like wolves. And they hunted very much like wolves did—stay downwind from the prey, stay low, stay silent.
They found a promising trail before long, a small herd of deer. Fresh droppings indicated that the trail was likely as recent as last night, meaning they would be close, and the two boys followed.
Crouching behind a dry bush, Antelmu paused and motioned for Dirt to come close. He whispered. “Deer are more active in the morning and evening, so we won’t catch them sleeping. We just have to get close enough to get a shot. If I can get an arrow into one, it's okay if it doesn’t die right away. We can follow. Keep your eyes open and signal if you see something, okay? Tap me so I look, and go like this.”
Antelmu showed him the ‘target spotted’ gesture, which was to point two fingers at your eyes and then at the target. Dirt mimicked it and nodded.
The boy said, “I’ve hunted tons of deer before,” and Dirt nodded for that as well.
Then they continued onward. The terrain was rough, but the deer seemed to prefer the easiest pathway, which led between rocky spots or thick brush instead of over or through. Antelmu’s eyes were fixed on the trail ahead, so Dirt watched the sides and behind.
He saw their minds before he saw the deer themselves. It was only a pair, and they had no antlers so Dirt assumed they were female. He picked what he felt would be the larger of the two, and tweaked its attention. It raised its head and looked around warily, but it still wasn’t close enough for the boys to spot it.
Antelmu followed the trail, and each time the deer went to move to the next bite of food, Dirt tweaked its attention with another mental pulse, keeping it in place. After another hundred paces, Dirt recognized the larger, thicker brush and tapped Antelmu on the shoulder. He pointed at his ears and nodded. A look of dismay passed over the older boy’s face and Dirt saw him think, There’s no way he heard something before I did he hasn’t even hunted before I bet at least not without Socks and anyway I was listening but what if he did hear it first that would be embarrassing because I’m the experienced hunter...
If only Antelmu had any idea how much hunting Dirt and Socks had done, he might be less concerned about having to show off. Antelmu did move a little quieter after that, and Dirt gave nothing away. He simply followed, keeping the deer where it was to shorten the chase.
Antelmu spotted their prey first, and Dirt knew the exact moment it happened from how the boy shook like he was startled. It was more pleasure that he hadn’t been overshadowed, though, and they lay low to the ground while he considered where to position himself for a shot.
From how wary and attentive the deer’s posture was, Antelmu must have gathered that it was time for the utmost carefulness, and he moved slowly and silently. He waited until it turned away, then crawled forward a few steps, freezing when it looked back. This went on several times, and Antelmu was better at it than Dirt expected. Only once did the deer spot the movement, and it would have run if Dirt hadn’t wiped the motion from its mind. But only once. Antelmu was sneaky after all.
Finally, Antelmu felt he had a shot, and he raised his bow, very slowly. He fired without warning and the arrow flew straight, but his aim wasn’t perfect. It hit high on the front shoulder, a hand’s length away from the vitals in the neck or ribs. The arrow punched through the deer’s shoulder blade, but only shallowly, and the beast jumped in terror.
It only made it two steps before Dirt pushed its mind to sleep, causing it to tumble right into the ground. Was that cheating, on a human hunt? Probably not. They would have caught up to it eventually. Just saving time.
The boys ran forward at top speed, and Dirt drew his knife. Dirt hadn’t pushed the deer into a deep enough sleep—it was already waking up and starting to get up before they reached it. But that was enough, and Dirt stabbed it a bunch of times in the lungs and neck before it could regain its feet, and that was that.
Even though Dirt could have carried it just fine, he didn’t want to get blood all over his new clothes, so they each took a leg and dragged it back along the snow, which didn’t work well, but well enough.
Biandina waved at them from the top of the tower, then came all the way down to greet them when they got closer.
“That didn’t take you long,” she said, and there was nothing forced in her impressed expression.
“It just stood there and waited for us. Easiest hunt I’ve ever been on. First arrow took it down, and then Dirt finished it off with his knife,” said Antelmu, beaming.
“Antelmu’s pretty good at hunting. I didn’t know what to expect, because I hunt with Socks all the time, but he did a good job,” said Dirt.
That seemed high praise and Antelmu grinned.
Biandina said, “I’m not surprised. Let’s get this thing hanging over a window to drain the blood, and then we can butcher it later.”
“Can you two handle it?” asked Dirt.
“Of course. Are you planning something?” asked Biandina.
“I don’t want to be surprised in the night again, so I’m going to take… steps,” he said. He handed the knife to Biandina to butcher with, then stepped over to the wall. He traced a finger as he walked along the outside wall, turned the corner, and kept going.
With each step, his mind raced as he plotted how to enchant an entire building. If they were going to stay here, then they were going to do it safely. He got to work.