THE THIRD SCROLL
By Dana Marton
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE THIRD SCROLL Copyright © 2012 by Dana Marton. All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author.
www.danamarton.com
First Edition: May 2012
CHAPTER ONE
(Twelve Blue Crystals)
We did not have rice to eat with the fish my father, Jarim, might catch. We have not had rice for a long time. Sometimes we did not have fish, either. As I sat in the swaying branches on the top of the tallest numaba tree, I prayed that he would catch something for that night.
Traders never came to our rocky beach since my mother died, and few of the sick made the long trek from the village these days. I had passed into womanhood from childhood, but my healing powers had not arrived.
Next to me, Koro hung on to the branch with both hands, his sateen tunic-befitting the only son of a wealthy father-soiled from the climb. The wind ruffled his golden hair, pushing it into his eyes, the exact mellow brown shade as the tree bark. He would not glance down but instead kept his gaze on me. "I talked to my father about visiting yours tonight."
I looked away. "Jarim is in a bad mood. He had nothing but bad luck with fishing lately. Maybe next week."
"Next week my father will leave on another trading trip."
"When he comes back, then." I turned back to Koro and felt guilty at the sadness I had put on his face. But I would never have my healing powers if I married now. Despair sliced through me at the thought of him coming with his father to present an offering.
"Tera, you are-" he began in that soft voice of his that had comforted me so many times after my mother's death.
I shook my head, stopping him. "When your father returns from his journey."
A trip to the farthest Shahala villages could take a full moon crossing or more. Maybe enough time to cajole the spirits into sending my powers to me. Powers like my mother's, not like my great-grandmother's, I added silently, to make sure that no spirit who might be listening to my thoughts would misunderstand me.
Koro nodded, the disappointment on his face turning into a fond smile. Truly his face was welcome in my sight, his friendship valued from the bottom of my heart, but I could not give him what he longed for, not yet, not for a while.
My stomach growled.
My resolution wavered.
I could refuse Koro, but how long could I say no to the bride price? Even if I could endure the hunger, a good daughter would not starve her father.
"They will hurry on this trip." Koro watched the lone cloud above us. "They will want to be back before the rainy season begins."
For a second I saw the sky as it would be soon, a damp gray blanket thrown on the sun, keeping it captive. I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinking the image away. Jarim and I could not survive another rainy season like the last. Toward the end, only the occasional strand of seaweed washed to shore had kept us from starving. I could still feel the dark, gnawing pain in my belly every time I thought of it.
