The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

Pathways

By the time Ray'et returned with the blanket and Makula, Maliha was wet to the bone and shivering uncontrollably.

Rivulets of water trickled down her face and her hands shook with the large concentration of power she was drawing from the earth.

Even the thick, rolling waves of heat that licked against her palms could not chase the chill that clung to Maliha's body. Her prone form was wracked with shivers as small, indecipherable words slipped from her lips. A chant building in her chest as she prayed for Darsan to heal, but the girl's body did not listen.

Darsan's body thrashed, her head rocking back and forth as her eyelids flickered open and closed to reveal the unnerving pale blue orbs that stared unseeingly into the sky.

"Maliha."

Makula's voice carried through the unbidden rain storm to where Maliha lay.

"Here."

Maliha sobbed, her long lashes blinking in a futile attempt to remove the water that clung to them.

Makula's withered hand landed on Maliha's hunched shoulder.

"You have done well my child," she praised lightly before ushering Ray'et over with the blanket.

"Wrap Darsan in the blanket, but make sure you do not touch her skin."

Makula watched Ray'et with an unblinking stare as he wrapped Darsan in the blanket and then hefted her still thrashing body into his arms. He spared Maliha a look, perusing her body with his heaters stare and to make sure she was still okay, before he headed off into the storm.

"Let's get you out of this rain. Come ashra" Child.

Makula's withered hands were surprisingly firm as she clasped Maliha's palm in hers and pulled Maliha to her feet.

"This way," Makula muttered leading Maliha through the blinding storm and into the safety of her tent.

Thick clouds of smoke filtered into the air, the heat of the fire waving over Maliha's damp skin. The sweltering air in the tent was filled with the musky and earthy tones of incense and sage. Large wafts of smoke plumed around Maliha's face as Makula pulled Maliha's weakened body inside the tent and away from the harsh weather.

"Strip." Makula grunted.

She waved for Ray'et to lay Darsan down in the corner where there was a pallet of thick furs and pillows.

"Brew some tea."

Makula grunted, motioning to the small wooden drawer that was in the corner by the tent flaps. Ray'et nodded his head and moved to follow Makula's command.

"Maliha, look through that chest for spare clothes."

Maliha's head nodded slowly in agreement but her feet refused to move, her spine tingling from the transition from freezing cold to boiling hot.

"Maliha," snapped Makula.

"Bring me clothes for Darsan, and while you are there get some for yourself."

Maliha scampered to do Makula's instructions, rummaging through a carved wooden chest before she headed back to the bed.

"Strip," repeated Makula.

Maliha was used to Makula's blunt and harsh commands and so she obeyed, reaching forwards to help remove Darsan's clothes but Makula slapped her hand away.

"Not her, you. Strip and change."

Shock and confusion still muddled Maliha's mind making her compliant to Makula's wishes. Climbing to her feet, she stripped down to complete nakedness before hastily throwing on the fresh clothes.