Chapter 25

Mato could only maintain a shield from a hundred or so paces away. Still, Ezhno’s point had been made, and the wisdoms followed them back to camp, where everyone ate in silence, then went to sleep.

Morning saw Ezhno approach Moki. “Can you please lay your blade out for us?”

“Yes, Trail Master.”

The wisdoms walked over and looked at the runes.

“Twelve?” Poplar asked.

Ezhno squatted and ran a fingertip along the symbols. “Yes. All at once. I didn’t know such a thing was possible. You can see that some of the cracks remain. The blade will need another day of rest before it is ready for use.

“I apologize for the confusion yesterday. The blade was so unbalanced it was breaking. Had it shattered, the blast would have killed us all.”

Poplar knelt and turned the blade over, then studied the glyphs. He flipped the blade back and forth several times.

“Twelve pairings, but only three are approved. Why do you resist orthodoxy, Ezhno?”

“The truth, Wisdom?”

“Yes.”

“The approved list that I memorized was taught to me by my mentor, not by the priests. The approved list changes from time to time, and the pairings I learned are from the approved list prior to the current list.”

“If Sotsona changed the list, then the old pairings are no longer approved,” Poplar said.

“Perhaps,” Ezhno said. “But you can hardly claim they are evil. Sotsona himself approved that list in years past. It may be there is a good reason for the new list, but yesterday I needed to work quickly. There was no time to plan, or to consider alternatives. I simply wrote out a list of glyphs and guided Moki through etching them.”

“I will consider this,” Poplar said.

Ezhno nodded and directed everyone to get packed for the day’s march.

* * *

About lunch Ezhno froze. Mato nearly ran into him, then looked around for the cause of his alarm.

Deer thema stepped out of the trees around them, at least three dozen. Mato took his hand from his sword hilt and prepared to use his shield.

“Ezhno Trail Master, Mato Stone Foot, welcome to our lands,” Leelee said as she stepped between her guards.

Ezhno bowed and Mato followed suit an instant later. “Thank you, Lady of the Wood. How may we serve you?”

She smiled her creepy smile. “You have already helped me. We go to end the threat from the mammoth turtle, only to learn that you have already done so.”

“You should thank Moki, not us,” Mato said, pointing up the trail.

“Moki Eagle Wing, come forward,” Leelee called.

How did she know his name? Mato didn’t know it, and he doubted Ezhno did either.

Moki came to join them, hands held away from his sword, eyes darting back and forth.

“Have no fear, young Abo. I am here to reward you. You have saved our land from much destruction.”

Tupi pushed his way into the group. “Accept nothing from the anathema, Moki. They trap you with their lies.”

“Tupi!” Ezhno snapped. “I am the trail master for this cohort. It is my duty to negotiate passage. You will be silent, or I will have you whipped.”

“You will pay--” Tupi started. Then two of the deer thema pushed spears into his throat.

“Even your own kind cannot endure your prattle,” one of them said. “Be silent, or we will silence you.”

They guided Tupi out of the circle and shoved him back toward the rest of the cohort.

“Moki,” Ezhno said, “whether or not you accept anything from Leelee is your choice. However, know that she is honorable, and does not seek to trick or trap you.”

Leelee inclined her head toward him. “Thank you, Trail Master.” She returned her attention to Moki. “May I offer you a small token of gratitude for your service to my people?”

Moki glanced at Mato, and Mato nodded.

“Yes, uh, Lady of the Wood.”

“Don’t be silly, young one. I am Leelee. I have no title. Give me your boots.”

“My boots?”

“This isn’t the confusing part, Moki,” Ezhno said, with a hint of a smile.

“Right.” Moki sat and unlaced his boots, then handed them to Leelee. She picked two leaves from a bracelet on her arm, then placed a leaf on each boot. Within seconds the leaf was rooting, little strands of new life winding through the leather.

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“Keep these fed and watered, and they will never decay,” she said.

“What do I feed them?” Moki asked.

“Earth, water, the same things you would give to any plant,” Leelee said.

“Piss on them,” one of the guards said. “Works great.” He pointed to a bracer made of leather, but with small leaves hanging off.

“Or you can do that,” Leelee said with a laugh.

She turned to Ezhno. “For your role in guiding and encouraging the boys, and for preventing the devastation of a burst serpent blade.” She took his head in her hands, then pulled up an eyelid and stuck her finger in. He hissed and clenched his fists, but did not resist. A few seconds later she repeated the process on the other eye. Then she took a brush and carefully painted glyphs on his eyelids.

“Now that the secret of the body is open to you, I give you the power to see what cannot be seen.”

Ezhno sniffled and blotted tears from his eyes. “Thank you, Leelee.”

“Mato Stone Foot,” Leelee said as she turned to him. “Show me your back.”

Mato removed his pack, then pulled his shirt off. He felt her fingertips trace two new lines, and then his sanctuary glyph flared. Moki gasped.

“You now have the guardian rune. Those who shelter with you will receive healing.”

“You can change a pairing?” Mato asked.

She smiled again, and he resisted the urge to cringe. “Many things are possible, Mato. Continue your studies.”

“Thank you, Leelee.”

“The three of you are friends of mine, and are welcome in our lands.”

* * *

The process of carving a glyph into one’s own eyelids was awful. Mato held the mirror, and Ezhno told him it was at the wrong angle about a thousand times. While they struggled with that, Ezhno tried to keep one eye closed and the other open. He tried not to blink while he cut, and he tried very hard not to cut all the way through. Then they took a break, ate something and had some water while he relaxed enough for his hands to stop shaking.

The second eye was worse. He had to carve with the other hand, because the angles were all wrong between his good hand, right eye, and the mirror. He made a mistake, and they had to wait for healing water and Mato’s new shield healing to erase the first try, then start over.

By then the sun was over the horizon, and they worked by Ezhno’s tiny lantern. It took three hours or more, but when he finished it, the glyph took hold properly.

On the other side of camp Tupi ranted and raved about disfiguring the holy human form. By the time he quieted and went to bed everyone else had abandoned his side of the camp and moved to join Ezhno and Mato.

“Do you think location on the body matters?” Mato asked. “I asked for a strong heart, the lady put the rune on my back, so that the opposing glyph would be very near my heart. Your new pairing is for sight, and she put the runes on your eyelids.”

“I am painfully aware of where she put them,” Ezhno said. Some of the seekers and finders snickered.

“But does the location matter?”

Ezhno sighed. “I’m too tired to talk right now. Just let me sleep. But yes, it probably matters. Ask me in the morning.”

Mato woke sometime in the wee hours to a prickle across his skin. He lay still, faking the sound of sleep breathing. A soft sound about five paces away caught his attention. Then his eyes slowly picked out a human form creeping across the ground toward them.

He put up a shield around the shape, then relaxed again.

“That’s really funny,” Ezhno said. Mato heard the whisper of Ezhno’s blade returning to its sheath. “Can you hold the shield in place while you sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Mato said. “Let’s find out.”

* * *

In the morning they found Poplar sitting inside the little bubble. He looked decidedly angry, but his sword was sheathed. Mato let the shield fall.

“How dare--”

“Stop right there,” Ezhno said. “Why were you creeping around in the night?”

“I was trying to relieve myself without waking anyone.”

Mato cocked his head to the side. “You must have gotten lost. You were headed this way, but Moki’s boots are over there.”

Ezhno started laughing. It took him several minutes to stop, and then he started up again. Even the seekers who didn’t appreciate the original joke were soon laughing at Ezhno. A few minutes after that someone handed out the nickname, ‘Moki Piss Foot,’ and the hilarity continued.

“How did you begin your second trial?” one of the seekers asked.

Mato turned his head and found a young man with hair pulled back in a braid. He was standing three paces away, clearly nervous.

Mato patted the ground beside himself. “Sit here.”

He settled into place, nodding deeply. “Thank you for speaking to me.”

Mato bumped him with an elbow. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ll speak to you. When you go to the ladies it is critical to be polite and listen to everything they say, just like we have been taught. The only difference is that you can ask for boons other than swords.”

“Okay. Your trial appeared to be very hard.”

“Yes. Ezhno thinks that I skipped my first trial when my mother gave me my sword, so when I went into the cave, the Great Lady gave me my second trial.

“Your first trial tests one of your strengths. The second tests a weakness.”

He slumped. “If my strengths are not enough, how can I succeed in a test of my weaknesses?”

“I have said that it was a trial of mercy, but perhaps it was also a trial of fortitude. I don’t think you should view it as impossible, I think you should view it as another chance. Think about the things that make you weak, and then work on fixing them. In a year or two, you can take another trial.”

He let out a sigh that was almost a sob. Mato noticed that the other seekers had moved close enough to listen.

“What is your name?” Mato asked.

“Otaktay,” his voice grew very small, “Brave Heart.”

“Failure is never fun, Otaktay. But you have a chance that no one knew about until this journey. Think of all of the failed seekers from previous journeys, and how they had no hope at all. You still have your arms and your legs, and you can decide whether you wish to take another trial.”

“No, he cannot,” Tupi said. “Sotsona will decide what to do. You keep your heresy to yourself until you learn what your betters wish.”

Mato cast his shield over Tupi and blocked out the sound.

“Tupi is angry that he cannot control everything around him. You still get to decide what you do. He can only change that by murdering you.”

Otaktay’s eyes went to his boots. Mato studied him for a few moments and decided Otaktay had heard Tupi plotting to attack them before, and felt guilty about it now.

“It will work out,” Mato said. “It will do no good to worry. Begin learning your weaknesses, and training them away. Do it today.”

He sat, leaning one way, then the other, clearly weighing a decision. “Will you help me with my sword work?”

A brave question. When he felt so low already, rejection would drag him deeper. “Of course I will,” Mato said. “I have to keep up with my duties and training too, but we will have bits of spare time here and there.”

Sad eyes flickered up to meet Mato’s. “Thank you. You are kinder than we deserve.”

“That is not true, Otaktay. We all deserve kindness. It is sad that we often cannot find it.”