After

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Every few years, someone would swear they saw a ghost that looked like Uperi. Sometimes by the old spring or gazing in at the village from the wilds, but more often by the cattle ring. A rat rides on her shoulder, they whispered, and a snake wraps around her wrist. One villager even swore he saw Uperi with a sling around her chest, a baby's foot poking out of the bottom.

Swesor's child was born. A strong, chubby baby girl. Apo named her Uperi and would hear nothing about it. The elders raised an eyebrow, a few villagers rolled their eyes, but no one said a word.

The village lapsed back into routine and quiet. They made their beer, fetched water, fried patties, sang to the spirits. The elders relaxed in their fine mantles while their apprentices served them sweet beer and succulent game. The troublesome Seer and the agitated Uperi were finished. What had they to fear?

"The spirits are appeased. Our ancestors smile over us," the elders promised the villagers. The villagers, delighted and relieved, agreed.

But even the elders could not explain it the night a slump of bones and skin fell through the foliage of the jungle, begging for water and food and asking for his brother, Apo. No one moved to help him, not even his brother or his wives. They could only stand and stare.

Then, the village began murmuring, frowning, pointing at the elders, when Uperi appeared at his side and slung his arm over her shoulders. People jumped out of her way when they saw her rat and her snake that followed close at her heels. Apo ran to her and embraced her.

She and Apo helped his brother into the village, where no one could deny he was real.  No one could avoid her eyes. They were like a fist, like the night, like fire.

This, maybe, in time, the elders could explain and the villagers could accept. But then, everyone saw her white-eyed baby slung across her back.

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