Heyna's Tale - Chapter Six

Delirious

When she awoke, she felt like she had been out for a while. Her head hurt and her tail was folded uncomfortably underneath her. The strap of her carryall was pressing on her throat.

It was darker. The sand was gone. The ground cover beneath her feet was not grass, but something like ivy. And it was wet! She licked at it with her dry tongue and parched lips. She sensed movement and glanced around.

Someone was standing in front of her. She looked up into the eyes of an ancient fox. It stood with a dozen others in a circle about her. They were small compared to Erda, maybe four feet tall. Their fur was short and reddish brown to white. Their limbs were thin and sinewy. Their ears were huge. Heyna imagined that their hearing must be as acute as her sense of smell was. Their scent was neutral pleasant, not threatening, not friendly. They stood erect. Their tails were fluffed and pointed, white at the tip.

At first, Heyna thought that they were wearing jewel medallions. She saw, however, that the jewels were somehow set into their breasts. The gems shone faintly in reds, greens, golds, blues, purples and other shades. The old fox was holding Heyna’s ruby.

“Please,” she said. “Water.”

“You are not welcome here.” the Fennec Fox said.

“Please! I’ll die.”

“I expected that you’d have been dead by now.” His voice was pleasant and matter of fact. “We’ve been watching you for a while. You’ve been very entertaining.”

“Entertaining?” Heyna’s hackles went up. “Watching me die is your entertainment?” she rasped.

“Well… Not many people manage to find us, and it gets a bit boring, to tell the truth.” The flat cruelty in the statement added to Heyna’s confusion.

“What are you doing with my ruby?” As exhausted as Heyna was, she was angry too. “What are you,” she sneered, “a thief?”

“Now you are being rude.”

“And you are being murderous.”

“Murder is in the eye of the beholder, intruder. The penalty for trespassing on our home is death. So, you see, you are being treated fairly. Except for…”

“Except for?”

“Except for this.” He hefted the ruby. “You used it to dispel our glamour. How you knew to do that is rather troubling.” The old fox looked around at the circle of faces surrounding Heyna. “Very troubling.”

“And the ruby,” he hefted it again, “technically, if we keep it, we have to let you live.”

“Give it back, and let me die,” Heyna said, defiantly. “It was my fate anyway. There’s no way that I was going to save my people. Give it back!”

“By our law, unless you give it freely, we can’t keep it. So if you die without gifting it, we have to throw it into the sea, which would be a waste.”

“We need it,” said someone to her right. She looked and saw a young fox with bright earnest eyes. “I… need it.” This Fennec had no jewel. She turned to the old one. “Please! Help her.” The elder nodded.

“Give her water,” the old fox gestured with the jewel to someone outside the circle. Heyna saw dappled sunlight through trees and felt a warm breeze. Flowers scented the air, and the delicious aroma of tree bark came to her nostrils making her feel faint again. Someone gave her a cup of water and she drank greedily.

“More,” she said. “Please, more.”

“Shall we begin the negotiation now?” the old Fennec said. Negotiations? For the jewel? For her life? For water? Heyna didn’t understand. She couldn’t think. Hunger and thirst made her weak and addled.

“What are you called? I can’t keep thinking of you as the old fox.” There was laughter from around the circle. Anger flashed across the old fox’s face and passed as quickly.

“I am Sansir, the Elder.”

“Sansir,” Heyna said, “I am in no fit condition for any negotiation. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“She’s right,” the young female said. “I’m Sronban. Here.” She gave Heyna another cup of water. “Here is some tree bark. Can you eat this?” It smelled delicious and Heyna took it and ate it between sips of water.

“Thank you,” she said. “Let me rest and we’ll talk about the jewel.”

“Come,” Sansir said, and strong hands with stubby claws helped Heyna to her feet. They led her along a forest path that was nothing like BelowLight in Tototlan. The trees here stood at a respectful distance from one another. Light streamed in dappled brilliance through the canopy. Ferns, ivy, flowers, and a hundred other familiar and unfamiliar plants covered the forest floor.

Heyna smelled the perfume of the strange land. Somewhere, there was a svella tree growing. Her mouth watered. She wondered if she could get another bite to eat before she rested.

The foxes led her along a well maintained road to a village of neat cottages of wood and stucco, with finely thatched roofs in a wide clearing. Smoke curled from some chimneys. They stopped before a beautifully decorated house. The door was solidly built and painted red. The stucco, was also painted depicting flowering vines that flowed around the windows and door.

“This is my home,” said Sronban. “You can rest here.” Sronban led Heyna to a bed and, her hunger overcome by fatigue, she lay down and slept.

*

In her dream, she was on the sandy knolls again, hiding. Screeble and his crew were looking for her. She hunkered down, but they were right there.

“Hey, Kit!” Screeble shouted. “You for the pot, tasty Erda! Where you be?” He turned to his crew, “Fiver to the swabby that catches her.”

She trembled in terror and scuttled here and there to avoid them. But even though they stood over her, they couldn’t see her. Screeble turned to her and was nose to nose for a moment. His breath stank and his damaged fin twitched. She could see into his mouth through the gap of his missing tooth, and his ugly scar. But he didn’t see her and turned away.

She awoke with a squeak of terror, trembling all over. She didn’t know where she was. She wiped her glasses and adjusted them. Then she saw Sronban sitting at a table across the room. She smelled fresh svella and water. She was parched and famished.

“Come on,” Sronban said, and waved her over. Heyna was disoriented, but the meal drew her like a magnet to the table. While she ate, Sronban spoke.

“This is my home,” she said. “My parents are dead.”

“Mine too.”

“I know. I heard your story. I’m sorry that we put you through that ordeal.” Her accent was light and lilting. Her words didn’t match her mouth movements, and seemed to form in her mind, not to come in through her ears. “Yes,” she said. “I am projecting, so that you can understand our language. It’s a Fennec trait.”

“Telepathy?” With a start, Heyna realized that Sronban was the Fennec from her vision. She silently thanked Jakintu and the Talking Stones.

“We call it projecting. We use it to talk privately.” Sronban looked down. “You know, I didn’t agree with what they did to you. You are the first person to find their way here since before I was born. I had heard stories of how we treated visitors, but when I watched it happening… It made me sick. And when you vomited, I nearly heaved myself. It was horrible. Sansir and the other Elders are so cold sometimes, it’s scary.”

“It was no picnic on my side, either,” Heyna chuckled in relief that the ordeal was over. “What now? You want the ruby?”

“Well, yes.” Sronban pointed at her breast which was bare. “The jewels that the Fennec bear complete us. I cannot become an adult without one. We do not come into our full power without one. We used to dig for them on the island. But the mine petered out long ago. My parents left to try to find a gem for me. That was years ago. I was four. I can barely remember them.” A tear dropped from Sronban’s eye to the table. “They’ve been gone so long, we assume that they are dead.”

“If we had Jakintu’s Talking Stones we might be able to find out what happened to them.” Heyna said. “But… maybe that would not be a good thing.” The image of her parents, burnt, bloody, and dead came to her again.

“When you told about the stones, they sounded so wonderful. I wanted to adventure to Lurmunduan and seek this Gryphon, Jakintu. You have to tell me more about her.”

Heyna liked this Fennec, in spite of her very nearly dying at the hands of her kin. She was so earnest. Heyna could smell no dishonesty on her. But maybe this sense of honesty was a glamour, like before.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but how do I know that you haven’t enchanted me again to get what you want?”

“No offense taken. I can’t… I can’t lay a glamour on you.” She indicated her breast. “I don’t have a gem. Great spell working requires that I be initiated, and that requires a gem. Not just any gem, but a gem that has been cut with magical skill, such as the one that Jakintu gave you.”

“I can see that the ruby is important to you. I am inclined to give it to you in gratitude for saving my life. But…”

“You can’t live here,” Sronban said. “And you need our help to get off the Misty Isle and resume your quest.”

“More than that, I need allies. I realize now that I could never free my people by myself. Not Quetz, nor Erda are willing to help me. An army couldn’t rescue them. My visions showed me that they are in Shitachishimo, the biggest Ryujin city, many fathoms under water.”

“I don’t know how I would even get there. I came here in a Ryujin boat crewed by pirates. But they wanted to sell me as a slave or eat me. Their captain was a mean one. I dreamed about him chasing me.”

“No surprise there. We chased them away, you know,” Sronban said. “Big glamour. Protects the island. But, by the Stones!” Sronban’s eyes were wide. “I’ve heard stories about the dragons, the ones that swim and ones that fly, and you’ve seen both! My life here is so boring. I often fantasize about leaving to look for my parents. You’ve done it. You are on an adventure. I wish I had your courage.”

“It has been a terrible journey so far,” Heyna said. “I’ve nearly died more than once. You know, it isn’t an adventure unless your life is in danger. Is that something that you really want?”

“Maybe not the dying part. But you haven’t set out to die. You want others to live. That’s all the difference. What made you start? You must have been afraid. Why did you leave Paititi?”

“I was angry,” Heyna said, then looked down at the table. She was quiet for a moment. “I was stupid. I had a fantasy. I really had no idea what I was doing. Hey, do you think I could have some more svella? And water?” Sronban got up and fetched water and bark.

“You know we use svella to build our houses.”

“That’s why everything smells so good! Ha! I thought you were hiding a great hoard of the stuff.”

“Actually, we use the bark to make paper for books and stuff. My parents were book makers. I’m a printer, too.” Sronban indicated some shelves that framed the front window. “Here,” she said and took down a large volume, bound in leather and decorated the drawings of mountains and trees. Heyna opened it. The pages were blank.

“It’s beautiful. What’s it for?”

“Each Fennec has such a book to write in, like a journal. It is presented as part of our initiation. This one is for me. I will write my story in it when I become an adult. And when I have something to write.”

“Your parents made this for you before they left?” Sronban nodded. “Are all these…?”

“Oh, no. Many of these are adventure stories. We have a few books on how to make books, written by my parents. There are textbooks for the schools, books on history and science.”

“Magic?”

“That’s a topic in the science books. My parents are… were printers as well. I’ve taken over their business. Do you want to see the printing press and the book shop? It’s next door.”

“Sure. We don’t have books like these in Paititi. They are too heavy for the Quetz. We have learning arbors with huge frames that roll the text.”

They walked next door to the shop in its own building larger than Sronban’s cottage. There was a large front window displaying the wares. Books of all shapes and sizes were stacked artfully. It was very dusty. Sronban saw Heyna looking.

“The window dressing hasn’t been changed since my parents left. My mother was the one who… I haven’t had the heart to change the display. Some of the volumes there are the only copies left. I should dust it more, but…”

“I understand.”

In the corner of the shop was a printing press, and all the tools for constructing books. There was a book press, bone folders, paste, decorative paper, plain paper in huge piles, spools of thread, and a guillotine for trimming the paper in a book to a smooth edge. Heyna turned and browsed the shelves of books. Many were blank. There was a stack of identical books on a table.

“That’s the latest mystery story by one of our best writers. It’s called, The Winter Ghost, by Bebe. They’re all sold already. I just have to deliver them. People can’t wait to read them.”

“Do you need help?” It was out of her mouth before she realized. But Heyna realized that she really wanted to do some small thing to help Sronban.

“No, I…” Sronban started. But then smiled. “Yes. Why not? Come on” Sronban divided the volumes into two canvas duffel bags and handed one to Heyna. They walked out of the shop into the streets of the town.

Sronban’s shop sat on a pentagonal plaza lined with other shops. There was a baker, a smith, and a general store with many products. A Fennec was painting one of the store fronts. He nodded at Sronban.

“Got yourself a servant?” He laughed. “Gonna be dead soon, so getting your work out of her, eh?

“Watch your snout, Tooly, or I’ll flatten it with a book.” They both laughed. Heyna’s hackles were up, but Sronban stroked her back. “We’re just joshing,” Sronban said. She lowered her voice, “He likes me.”

“I heard that,” Tooly said.

“Well you do!” Sronban said.

“I like grubs too, fat and juicy. Sautéed with a little butter.”

“Your gonna have to dig those yourself.” They both laughed again. “Delivering Bebe’s latest. We’ll leave your copy at your house.”

“Is it as good as the last one?

“Better.”

They walked down the tree lined lane, stopping here and there to drop off the books. She chatted with the townsfolk who all stared at Heyna. Sronban always introduced her as, “my friend, Heyna.”

Heyna was polite and did her best to pretend that only the day before, these same people had not been content to enjoy watching her die. They walked to the end of the town and still had one volume to deliver. They walked through a field of strange trees with green crowns of spiky fronds and large clusters of brown fruits hanging down. They smelled delicious.

“What’re those,” she asked.

“Those are sweet plum palms.” Sronban walked over to a tree and pulled a bunch down. “Try one.” She handed Heyna one of the brown fruits. It didn’t look like a plum or any fruit that she’d ever eaten. Heyna crunched down on it, chewing the fruit, and finding a woody pit at the center, crunched harder and swallowed it pit and all.

“By the Trees! This is incredible. So sweet.”

“I know, right!”

“You should export these.”

“We don’t do that.”

“What, export products?”

“It’s too dangerous. There’s a reason why our island is hidden. Come on. One more to deliver.” Sronban led Heyna to a rather large farm house and knocked on the door. Sansir answered.