“From trust to dust,” I muttered.
Khara cocked her head. “What did you say?”
“It’s a dairne saying. It means if you trust a human too completely, you’ll end up as nothing but dust.”
“And yet you have no choice.”
We fell into a cold and uneasy silence. Khara was the first to speak, and when she did, her voice was muted.
“Byx,” she said, and then she added, turning, “and Tobble, you, too”—she inhaled deeply—“you love your families, yes?”
“Loved,” I muttered, “might be the more appropriate verb.”
Khara gave a small, terse nod. “Well, I love my family, too. And it is my job to help them weather hard times. No matter what the cost.”
She locked her eyes on mine. I saw dark, deep pools of sadness. Whether it was my own gaze, reflected in hers, I could not say.
“My family is in dire straits,” Khara said. Her voice cracked. It was a vulnerable sound, something I hadn’t heard from her until now. A giving in, like winter ice on a pond tested too soon.
“My relatives are often hungry,” she continued. “Ill. Sometimes even desperate. When I can, I send them the few extra coins I’ve managed to collect from my work as a guide. Finding Byx means I have a chance to truly help them, for the first time in my life. And it means helping Byx, too.” She shrugged. “At least, that’s my hope.”
“Your hope?” Tobble demanded.
“Ferrucci is a good man, Tobble. Yes, he will probably pay me for bringing him one of the last of the dairnes. But he will also protect Byx.” Khara rubbed her eyes. “If a safe haven exists for her, Ferrucci is the one man who can find it.”
Khara reached toward Tobble and touched his shoulder, a gesture of penance, it seemed to me. “I can’t do that for Byx, Tobble,” she whispered. “And neither can you.”
“I can try,” Tobble said. “Which is more than you are doing.”
Khara exhaled, long and slow. We avoided each other’s eyes.
“I have a different question for you,” I finally said to Khara. “When we get to the island, what will this Gharri person do with Tobble?”
“Oh, no one has much use for wobbyks,” Khara said with an apologetic nod to Tobble. “They’re mezzitti.”
Tobble snorted.
“What’s ‘mezzitti’?” I asked. It was a word I didn’t recall from my lessons.
Khara looked incredulous, clearly surprised by my ignorance. “Well, of course, there are six governing species: humans, raptidons, felivets, terramants, natites, and dairnes. That’s according to the Antic Scrolls of the First Coimari. They are the species that can speak—”
“I speak,” Tobble interrupted.
“—can speak,” Khara continued, “can make tools, can learn and pass along learning, and are capable of theurgy.”
“Unfair,” Tobble grumbled. “What use is theurgy, anyway? Silly spells. Magical potions. Ridiculous visions.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Khara said. “The law decrees you must be fifteen to begin training in theurgy.”
“Dairnes don’t practice theurgy much,” I said. “Dalyntor calls—called—it a ‘lost art.’”
“Women aren’t allowed to study it,” Khara said. “Not anymore, anyway.”
“Anymore?” I repeated.
“Before this Murdano took power, some women were allowed to learn theurgy. My mother used to know a bit.”
“So what are mezzitti?” I asked again.
“Mezzitti can’t perform even the weakest theurgy.
“Mezzitti are species like wobbyks, starlons, and gorellis,” Khara continued. “They can communicate with humans and use tools, but they lack the ability to do magic.”
Tobble sighed loudly. “Totally unfair.”
“The six great governing species may not prey on one
another, according to the Scrolls. At least that is the decree. Whether it is actually adhered to is another story. Especially when it comes to my own species.”
“Meanwhile, feel free to eat me,” said Tobble.
“Below mezzitti come all the species that cannot communicate with humans, use tools, or do magic,” Khara said.
“Inferritti,” said Tobble.
“Yes.” Khara nodded. “Chimps, whales, crows, crickets, and on and on and on.”
She stood, hands on hips. “Well, that’s enough for now. We should rest. I hate to waste a day, but you two are in no shape to travel.”
“I have more questions,” I said. “Many more.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Khara. She looked at me with a strange mix of frustration and sympathy. “Get some sleep. We’ve a long way to go. We’ll leave tomorrow morning before dawn.”
“Rest,” I muttered. As if that were possible after all I’d just heard. And yet when I looked over at Tobble, he was once again fast asleep.
I wondered if the ability to sleep anywhere, under any circumstances, was a wobbyk gift.
Khara draped him with a blanket and handed me one as well.
“I wish I could do more for you,” she said quietly. “I really do.”
She wasn’t lying, that much I could tell. But it was cold comfort indeed.
Perhaps there is another way, I told myself. A way to avoid Ferrucci, to escape with Tobble, to find more dairnes, to . . .
I fell asleep, my mind whirring with plans, none of which seemed any better than the fate about to befall me.
18.
A Crumpled Map
I dozed fretfully off and on throughout the day. We had serpent again for dinner, and Tobble munched on leaves and bugs, but there were no more questions asked or answered. Khara seemed preoccupied. She spent much of the day near the cave entrance, pacing back and forth.
That night, I tried to force myself to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I thought of the horrors I’d witnessed. The deaths of my packmates. The hideous serpents. Who knew what more lay ahead?
It seemed like only moments ago I’d been safe in my mother’s embrace, watching butterbats flutter overhead.
“Byx?” Tobble whispered late that evening. “Are you asleep?”
“No.”
Tobble crawled closer, trailing his blanket. “Are you scared?”
“Yes,” I said, because it was not in my nature to lie. And because I wanted someone else to know the truth.
“I’m not,” Tobble said, his voice wavering just a bit. He gave me a sidelong glance. “Could you tell that’s a lie?”
“Let’s just say I’m beginning to see that there are many kinds of lies,” I said gently. “You were very brave today, Tobble. You bit that giant serpent. What on earth were you thinking?”
He smiled, and his huge ears wiggled. “I wasn’t.”
“I’m grateful you tried to save me.”
“Trying doesn’t count.”