The Book Gatherer

Chapter One

Gold glinted in the gloom of rain. Honi pulled her giraffe to a halt and blinked away raindrops, brushing a damp lock of hair away from her face. "Jeje," she whispered, "did you see that?"

The giraffe made a grumbly sound; she didn't like the rain.

Squinting, Honi peered into the thicket of branches, searching for that glimmer again. She found pine needles and pine cones, withered oak leaves on the verge of falling, plump books dangling from branches, everything dripping black, inky water . . . and there it was. Gold.

Honi's eyes bulged. "Jeje . . ." She squeezed the reins, shock dumping her body in icy cold, then excitement flushing her with heat. "Jeje, I was right, that's a Holy Book! Come on!"

She tugged at the reins, and the giraffe swung moodily off the trail—and stopped short before she could get entangled in the thick underbrush and tree branches. Jeje grumbled again.

Honi scowled. "You're such a grump, Jeje. We both know you could get in there if you wanted to." But, too eager to argue, she climbed out of the saddle, empty bookbag slung over her shoulders.

Shoving off the saddle's tough, worn leather, Honi flew briefly through the air before slamming into a tree branch. It bucked beneath her weight, nearly throwing her off, but she held on tight and scrambled toward the trunk where the branch was thicker and stronger. Twigs snagged her hair and needles prickled her skin, sap already sticking to her hands and knees. Honi reached the trunk and swung around it to a branch on the other side, paused just for a second to locate the flash of gold again, and leaped for the next tree. Again and again she climbed and jumped, from branch to branch, from tree to tree, until . . .

Honi jumped to the branch and finally stopped, gripping the slippery bark tightly, breath hitching slightly in her chest as she stared at her prize. The Holy Book. A small branch spiky with needles shrouded the gold-covered book, as if to protect it from unworthy hands. But I am worthy, Honi thought with a thrill of excitement, pulling the small branch back. I am a gatherer, a licensed gatherer, of the LAND Company, a servant of the Earth Serpent. He meant her to get his book in these hard times, definitely.

Honi reached out and snapped the thin twig that kept Holy Book attached to the branch. Free, the precious treasure slid into her sap-stickied palms. People would kill for this, a chance to hold a book filled with words that could change the future. Needed to change the future, considering their current disaster.

She sat back on her heels, balancing perfectly on the rain-slicked branch, cradling the gold book in her lap. Despite it being skinnier than most books—it looked to barely reach a hundred pages—it had a weight to it, almost a presence. Honi realized why. It was an actual book, something made from real paper. It wasn't filled with drinkable ink, the pages couldn't be dried into jerky, the entire thing wasn't edible.

Woah, Honi thought, shocked and awed. A book you can't eat.

The ways of the Earth Serpent truly were mysterious.

"What's inside you?" Honi wondered aloud, running her knuckle gently down the hard, smooth cover. Even in the rain, the silky gold glowed faintly. "What could the Earth Serpent want to say to his priests?" For a moment, she was tempted to crack it open and steal a peek. So many powerful, world-changing secrets, all at her fingertips . . . Her heart thudded excitedly in her chest.

CRACK.

Honi glanced up with a grin, thinking Jeje's curiosity had gotten the better of her. But there was nothing but trees at Jeje-height. Honi looked down. And met the gaze of a yellow-haired boy, half-hidden in the underbrush. Rain and shadows couldn't obscure the tattoo on the boy's forehead. A SKY Company worker—an actual, real-life essi. She'd never been so close to one. Honi's eyes widened at the same time as the boy's. Then she realized what he was staring at.

Honi thrust the Holy Book into her bookbag, buttoned it up, and slung it back over her shoulders. She stared at the boy, waiting. Her heart hammered and air didn't come easily down her throat. She didn't hear the rain patter, couldn't feel it sprinkle ice across her skin. She waited for him to do something. To unfreeze and attack her. To do something, to stop staring. She waited, the Holy Book heavy on her back.

The essi boy turned and ran.

Honi slumped in relief, gasping for breath. He didn't attack, she thought, confused. Didn't come for the book. Why? They were enemies; the SKY Company would do anything to get their talons on a Holy Book, no matter the Serpent who wrote it. Then she knew. He'd left to get his flock, the others in the SKY Company. Soon all of them would come for her.

A whole essi flock . . . Honi felt suddenly dizzy. Loose, empty . . . her foot slipped on wet bark. She grabbed at a branch but missed, and fell with the rain. Too late to fling the bookbag away, instincts kicked in and she curled into a ball just before she slammed into the ground. She rolled, absorbing the impact, and ended up flat on her back in a cluster of thorny bushes. It took a moment for air to flood her lungs and thoughts fill her brain again.

"He's gone to get his flock!" Honi gasped, propping herself up on her arms. "They'll steal the Holy Book! I need to—the Book!" Honi yanked the bookbag off her back and ripped it open. Cringing, she pulled it out, ready to face the damage her fall had caused.

The Holy Book sat perfect and golden in her hands.

Honi stared, then remembered it wasn't a normal book. Edible books would've been squashed and bleeding ink from all its pages after her crash. But this book was different, special, tough. It was built to survive. The Earth Serpent meant for her to succeed. She blew out a breath and hugged the book to her chest. She couldn't let the SKY Company read its sacred text, not with the Earth Serpent sick and his forest diseased, not with her family destitute and close to starving. Her god's help would get her only so far; she needed to act, to get moving—fast.

After tucking the Holy Book back in her bookbag, Honi pulled herself to her feet. Scrapes and bruises from her fall protested, especially her throbbing ankle, but there were no breaks, and that was good enough for now.

Of all times to be gathering alone, I had to choose this one, Honi thought, trying to chuckle despite the fear and worry churning in her gut as she limped around trees, mud squelching beneath her feet. The humor fell flat. Honi almost would've given up the Holy Book to have Mother or Aunt Raula or Caul with her right now. She would've taken anyone from her band, even snotty Ruthus. A whole essi flock—against her, one gatherer girl?

At least she had Jeje. Honi stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled for the giraffe, a trick an older boy from her band had taught her long ago. "Jeje!" she called after the piercing note ended. "Jeje, I need you!"

Crashing from ahead told Honi that Jeje was coming. She leaned against a tree, taking the weight off her ankle, and waited until long legs of tan spotted brown stomped through the underbrush and a horned, knobby head perched on the top of a long, spotted neck weaved through the branches. Honi called her over.

"Took you long enough, you old hunchback!"

Jeje made her usual grumbly noise and halted in front of Honi, swinging around to the side so Honi could reach the saddle easier. Unfortunately, with her ankle, Honi couldn't take her running start and leap off a large rock to the dangling stirrup. Instead, she scrambled up the tree the best she could with three limbs and hopped down from a branch.

"I've got a Holy Book, Jeje," Honi said as she seated herself properly in the saddle. "A Holy Book. And an essi boy saw me, and he saw it, and he ran off to get his friends, and we have to hurry like we've never hurried before because they're gonna try and—" the words kill us got stuck in her throat, so she swallowed them down. "—and steal it, so we've gotta get back to the band now—even though it's at least a week's travel away. How's that for motivation?"

Jeje had flicked her ears back to listen as Honi talked. She shook her short, bristly mane, flicking raindrops in Honi's face.

"Excellent." Honi gathered the reins in her fists. "Let's go!" Jeje started forward without any prompts, and Honi guided her back to the main trail. Once pointed northward towards the camp, Honi urged Jeje forward into a run.

If they didn't escape the SKY flock now, they never would.