Sun's Heart

Chapter 21.1 - Dissent

Gale's hopes of finding out what had happened since she'd disappeared simmered in impatience as Wil slept the hours away. And when wondering if Selias would be available to answer questions, she discovered he and all the surviving hunters he'd travelled with were also sleeping.

Much had happened while she'd been gone, and judging by the injuries and numb faces, they deserved their rest. It had felt like hours in the Rift, but according to Wil's tired mumble, it had been days.

While they recovered from their journey, Gale explored Haliculir with Sani in the hopes of solving the mystery of the barrier faster with fresh air, regardless of the tribes' help or not. Sani's presence was easy to forget. She spoke only when necessary and otherwise stayed just out of sight behind her.

Gale would turn at times to scan the city's shape or observe the distant foot traffic, and the huntress would be standing several feet away watching. Other times, she'd take a wrong turn somewhere only to find a hand on her back guiding her where she needed to be.

Unnerving, to be sure, but unexpectedly reassuring, too.

As sunset dusted the sky fiery orange, Gale's feet had begun to ache in their sandals, and she took a moment to stop. A doorway to one of many empty buildings gaped in darkness beside her. She stooped and slipped off the sandals in cool shadow. Background noise became clearer as her mind rested from following twisting turns through the city.

Faint padding footsteps from the people walking past. Boots or sandals or barefoot, all walked quickly and quietly. Some laughed or sang or argued prices with traders. Others carried things on their backs or talked amongst each other. Couples walked hand-in-hand. Children ran squealing past and leapt about like fawns.

Young and old, short and tall, scarred and whole. The tribes mingled and mixed and acted as though they'd never been separated by an endless war. How many of them felt as Tona had said they did, that she was an invader and a spy? Would they really risk losing everything simply to spite the foreign invaders on their border who were utterly unaware of her presence in Sand Sea? No matter how she turned it around in her head, it felt like she was experiencing two realities of the Voran.

One reality showed hospitality and wisdom, like Haburnah and Selias had showed her. Their hunters playing their games with her, celebrating her wins. The children giving Wil funny names, tackling Dain, listening with rapt attention to their shaman's patient stories. A tough people, but forgiving once they knew they could trust you.

The other reality was of distrust and fear and petty vindictiveness. A helpless chief of all tribes unable to control his people but through the power of tribal leaders who, for some reason, could strike down his commands.

She shook her head. She wasn't being fair to the second version. It was obvious there was a lot more involved in the tribes' supposed refusal to let her help. It could be pride. Or she wasn't trustworthy, yet. She had to prove herself to them. But how?

Gale sighed, wiggled her toes over the hot stones, and straightened again. The sandals flopped from her fingers, her skirt caught in a stray breeze. She stepped back into the flow of movement, but felt a tightening in her gut that made her stop.

As she turned, the midriff of her dress caught in a powerful tug. A woman screamed. Men's alarmed shouts. Gale was tackled by what could have been a horse, for all the weight it threw into the movement, and she flattened to the ground with arm bent under her and cheek scraping. Sani yelled unintelligible words from atop her. Feet rushed around them. Men and women gasped and scurried away. Sani scrambled to her feet and sprinted into the building like a hound after a rabbit.

Gale pushed herself upright, mystified, and became acutely aware of fresh air flush against the skin of her belly. The middle of her dress had been torn away, jagged edge slanted. Something told her to look across the street.

Fletching pointed at Gale, who stared in shock.

An accusing finger.

The long wooden shaft, thin and straight. Fluttering cloth lifting weakly. A woman sliding to the ground against a wall.

Pallid petals bounced on stone. A flower clutched in gentle hands now clawed around the arrow piercing her heart.

Somewhere in the recesses of where thought had taken refuge, Gale realized the gravity of the situation. She crawled to the woman and tried to ignore the faces appearing in windows and doorways, watching and waiting for more arrows.

Tried to speak but found her voice had left. She cleared her throat, licked her lips. "Hello?" A feeble attempt at connection.

Nothing. The woman was still. No presence to speak of. No breath. No life. There was less blood than expected. Gale pressed fingers to the woman's cheek. Her slack jaw allowed the tongue to loll out. Her limbs splayed like a doll's, but she was obscenely warm.

A shadow of nausea crept over her.

People were sidling into the street again. They stood in hesitation. Sani appeared with frustration scrawled across her face. She knelt beside Gale and placed two fingers against the dead woman's neck.

"Pierced through the heart," Sani told her. "She is dead."

"I know," Gale said quietly. She stood as she placed a hand over the gash in her dress. Over the tender skin exposed. Vulnerable. "Who did it?"

The taller woman clicked her tongue and looked away. "I don't know." She grabbed Gale's upper arm and said lowly, "Elantona must hear of it."

Gale let herself be pulled to her feet. The pale flower lay limp and forgotten. Sani gestured two men over with sharp commands, and as she led Gale away, they bent to tend to the body. A negligent foot crushed the flower into the city's stones.

***