Note: Speech in italics is being translated from American sign language to spoken language with no other notation.
The trip back to Egregia was much more pleasant than Tatiana expected. She found herself spending a great deal of time at the front of the wagon, talking to Carl or just watching the green of the woods over the bobbing horse heads. After a while she was no longer distracted by Carl’s red skin and eyes, or the sharpness of his horns. It became as normal as Alister’s round face or Kadeem’s blue hair.
The wagon reached the market on the third day, the high sun burning off the clouds that had settled in the night before. Tatiana exited the wagon and froze, her eyes locked on the stall in front of her. It was Tate’s, or it used to be. It had already been taken over by someone selling duck eggs, Tate’s presence erased without even an emptiness to stand in remembrance. Next to it was the same booth as always with its vases of fresh herbs, dried bundles hanging from the overhead awning, poultices, powders, and teas. Two bouquets of flowers marked the edges of the stall.
Amber caught her gaze over the top of her herbs, her blue eyes widening in astonishment. She dropped her pouch, blessings scattering across the ground. The woman from the neighboring stall bent to help her. Amber disregarded the money, stepping out of her booth, eyes glazed. She placed a hand on Tatiana’s arm. “You’re real,” she whispered.
“I think so,” Tatiana said wryly.
“I thought you were dead,” Amber turned back towards her booth, “I need to sit down.”
Tatiana followed her into her stall, “Why did you think that?”
Amber sat heavily on her stool, then rifled through her ledger with trembling hands. She removed a piece of paper, handing it to Tatiana.
“PAID IN FULL,” was scrawled across the document in red. At the top, above the flowing script of the loan document, a different hand had written, “R’cd 50,000b for life of Bianca Abatangelo.”
“Oh,” Tatiana stared at the document, “I think the Devils get paid for every new priest they bring to the Order.”
Amber shook her head slowly, “I thought I'd killed both of you.”
“When did you start selling flowers?” Tatiana wasn't going anywhere near the topic of Tate.
“They're not for sale, they're offerings,” Amber stood, scooping up a bouquet of tiger lilies, “These were for you.”
Tatiana accepted the flowers pensively. A better flower would be a rose; it's alluring blossom the revocation of her curse, death and betrayal its thorny stem.
Kadeem touched her shoulder, “Alister sent me over here to get you. He wants to see your patron’s shack.” Kadeem looked around, “Did you really live in one of these?”
“No, I lived beyond the market,” Tatiana sucked in her lips, then turned to Amber to say goodbye.
“Come see me tomorrow and I’ll give you some horsetail,” Amber offered, “It’s good for broken bones.”
Tatiana nodded at her, “Thanks for the flowers.”
Alister was purchasing food from a stall. He signed at Kadeem as they approached. “I get to carry the rice, you get potatoes,” Kadeem pointed at the bag. “We wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, Princess.”
“Give me the rice, and we’ll see who strains themself,” Tatiana tucked her flowers in her sash and hefted the bag onto her hip. It couldn’t weigh much more than 20 lbs.
Alister grabbed the edge of the sack, “You can’t carry that. You only have one good arm. That’s why I gave you half the weight.”
Sheepishly, Tatiana passed the bag to Kadeem. “Are we walking or is Carl giving us a ride?”
“I guess I assumed your patron lived by the market,” Alister frowned, “How far away is his cabin?”
“Five or six miles away.”
“Five miles? No, we’re not walking that. Hold on, I’m getting Carl,” Alister set his bag down next to them and weaved through the crowd.
Tatiana peeked in the bag. A loaf of bread, a couple of beets, and a bundle of carrots. “Who the heck eats beets?” she asked Kadeem.
Kadeem didn’t answer her. He was staring at the people walking by, almost as if he was looking for someone. Alister reappeared, squeezing through a line that had formed at a booth selling grilled cheese sandwiches. Tatiana’s stomach growled.
“Can we eat some of the bread for lunch?” she looked at Alister hopefully.
“It shouldn't take too long to get to your patron’s cabin. We’ll eat soon,” Alister shepherded them to the edge of the market. Carl was waiting with a much smaller cart and a solitary horse hitched on the wrong side of the cart.
“That’s literally putting the cart before the horse,” Tatiana mused, “My patron would have loved that.”
“This area isn't really steep, but it's all downhill,” Carl patted the horse, “Hitching Eva this way will make things a little easier for her.”
Alister was already placing the food in the cart. He gathered his robes and hopped in. Kadeem pouted at Tatiana. “Go ahead,” she waved him on. She didn't mind sitting next to Carl again. Tatiana scrambled into the lower cart easily enough. Carl jumped in beside her, clicking his tongue at the horse. The cart began to roll downhill, the horse controlling its descent.
Seating assignments aside, Alister spent his time chatting with Carl. Unable to follow the conversation, Tatiana was the one who spotted it first. Initially she thought it was a sack of something discarded on the road. Trash was unusual in Egregia. Everything got used, reused, and repurposed. Curious, she stared at the object, until they were close enough that she could see it wasn't an object. Horrified, she covered her mouth and pointed, unable to make any sound other than a shriek.
“Whoa,” Carl called to the horse. He jumped out of the cart, approaching the crumpled figure. He rolled the body out of the road, stopping to place the back of his hand near the mouth.
“Do you have any idea why there's a body in the road?” Alister touched her shoulder gently.
Tatiana shook her head, biting her fingers to soothe herself.
“I think she’s dead,” Carl clambered back into the cart. He signed back and forth with Alister, then turned to Tatiana. “He wants me to tell you this too. Um, I guess I could sign a little bit, then say what I just signed?”
“Never mind the translator,” grumbled Kadeem.
Carl ignored Kadeem, signing for a minute, then speaking, “When Alister lived here, about three years ago, the drones would land to drop off the cursed. Last fall someone tried to hijack one of the drones.” Carl switched back to signing. Alister was turning red, his eyebrows pinching together. “After that, the drones stopped landing. Instead, they started dropping people along the roadways.” He signed some more, then paused and looked at Tatiana, “You probably know the answer to this. Are they drugging people before they drop them?”
“Maybe,” Tatiana sucked in her lip, “I remember being dropped, but I don't remember hitting the ground. The next thing I knew, I was in my patron’s cabin.”
“I had no idea that was going on,” Alister’s eyes were bright with anger, “Drink in the words of the Ellipse, ‘The rulers who would despise the poor, I will put to ruin.’”
“What the hell?” Carl mumbled, then clucked at the horse. The wagon resumed its downhill course.
“‘Those who harm the vulnerable, I shall not forgive.’”
“That it?” Carl pointed somewhere in the distance. Tatiana squinted, but couldn't see what he was pointing at. Alister continued prophesying, calling down doom upon his own superiors.
“Superiors that he elected,” she thought sardonically, “Not that I’m fully off the hook either, but there's so much I didn't know.” Well, to be fair, there were things Alister didn't know, but he could have found out if he wanted to. He was even eligible to run for office himself, though she couldn't imagine him enjoying it.
The wagon halted, interrupting her thoughts. Tate’s cabin stood in front of her, the door closed. His cart was missing, as if he were merely off in the forest cutting wood. Tatiana climbed out of the wagon and opened the door a crack. Feeling for the latch, she chewed on her bottom lip. The door swung open, and Tatiana tentatively crossed the threshold. There was no where she could look without seeing signs of her own struggle; the water pail laying on its side, the chairs pushed to the sides of the room. The hearth sat grey and cool, and Tatiana stared at it bitterly.
Carl hefted the bag of rice into the room, then busied himself placing logs and kindling on the hearth. Kadeem and Alister entered with the other bags, Alister immediately picking up the bucket and heading out towards the creek. Kadeem moved the rocking chair away from the wall, putting it back in its place. Tate’s fiddle fell out from behind it, and Tatiana picked it up without thinking.
She was sitting on the Harper’s porch, rocking herself on the porch swing. The screen door opened and Tate came out, joining her on the swing.
“Hey,” he barked at her.
“Tate,” she breathed, “what are you doing here?”
“Communing with you, Bee,” he took her hand in his.
The fur on his hand was soft, and before she was aware of what she was doing, she was pressing herself against him. “I have to find my Holy Relic,” she mumbled into his shirt.
“You already have, dummy, you’re touching it.”
Tatiana blinked at the fiddle cradled in her arms. She was sitting on the floor, facing the wall.
“Are you conscious?” Alister asked from behind her.
She turned around. A fire was roaring in the hearth. Carl sat on the overturned bucket, stirring the pot. Kadeem and Alister had claimed the two chairs, a familiar notebook across Kadeem's lap.
“Yeah, sorry, I must have dozed off,” Tatiana set the fiddle on the floor next to her.
“You found your relic. If we were at a holy place, I’d give you an orange sash,” Alister’s eyes searched hers, “I didn't realize you had that sort of relationship with your patron.”
“Wha-what?”
“You were holding that fiddle like this,” Alister pretended to snuggle with an imaginary fiddle.
Tatiana felt the sudden heat rise in each cheek like a slap, “It was just a dream.”
“Communing with your patron is closer to channeling or speaking to the dead than dreaming,” Alister nibbled on a slice of bread.
Tatiana’s stomach flipped, “So that was really him?”
“It’s his enlightened spirit. He will have special knowledge regarding you.”
“Like mind reading?” Tatiana cringed.
“No, thank Holy Circle. I can't imagine having my mom read my mind, can you?” Alister’s lips twitched with amusement.
“Try someone you had a crush on who hated you,” she thought acerbically. Aloud she asked, “How does that happen, communing? Will that happen every time I touch the fiddle?”
“Yes. You will need something neutralizing to carry it in, preferably something your patron hasn't touched.”
Tatiana glanced around the cabin. Everything had been touched by him, the bag he used for groceries still hanging on its peg, the blankets she had shared with him. She bit her lip. Being here was making it hard to focus. “Find Holy Relic, get fiddle, find Amber,” she thought, “Check, check, sort of check.”
“The next step for you is to deliver blessings to the people. Once you've blessed 3,000 people, you earn your yellow sash.”
“3,000!” Tatiana was horrified, “I don't even know that many people. I probably know 300 people tops.”
“This isn't some weird popularity contest,” Alister’s mouth was twitching again, “It’s a basic priestly duty. There's no need to get it done right away.”
“But how am I going to change anything unless I do?” Tatiana smacked her good hand on the ground, “I need that rainbow belt if I’m going to tear down that wall!”
“It will be accomplished in Ellipse’s time.”
Carl signed to Alister, an upset look on his face. Alister and Kadeem started arguing, their faces tense.
Carl poked Tatiana and tipped his head towards the door. He stood, mumbling something about taking care of the horse, and ambling outside. Tatiana waited a few moments, then followed him. Neither Alister nor Kadeem looked up from their conversation.
Carl was outside brushing Eva. She was unhitched, head down as she nibbled on the long grasses and leafy underbrush. “That translator is bad news,” Carl’s eyebrows pinched together.
“What happened?”
Carl let out his breath in a sigh, “Alister has always been . . . different.” Carl swatted at a fly that was buzzing Eva, “I don't want to say this the wrong way, but he’s just . . . different.”
Tatiana screwed up her face in puzzlement. She had no idea what Carl was trying to say.
“Look, I’ve always had crushes on this person or that, even if I was too shy to ever do anything about it, but Alister, he just wasn't interested in people that way.”
“Are you saying Alister likes Kadeem?” Tatiana scratched her head, “And so he keeps him even though he’s a pain in the butt?”
“No, listen Tatiana, Alister doesn't have crushes. He doesn't fall in love or what-have-you. I’m telling you that because Alister was calling you ‘Dear,’” Carl huffed, “He likes you, but not like that, understand?”
Tatiana flinched reflexively, “Ooookay.”
“And now I’ve hurt your feelings,” Carl scratched the base of one of his horns, “Which was not what I was trying to do,” Carl lifted one of the horse’s hooves and started cleaning out the bottom, “Kadeem left that out of the translation because he doesn't want you getting close to my brother.”
“Kadeem has a thing for Alister.”
Carl shook his head, “Is that what he told you?” Carl tapped his lips with his index finger, “Maybe. It’s just not okay to leave something out of a translation on purpose like that.”
The door to the cabin swung open, Kadeem stomping his way outside. He went up the dirt road, his clenched fists betraying his anger.
“Where is he going?” Tatiana followed him with her eyes. Someone should go after him, but not her. Definitely not her.
“He won't go far,” Carl was unperturbed, “He’ll run out of steam long before he hits the market.”
“Speaking of running out of steam . . .” Tatiana gave Carl her most beguiling look, “. . . there isn’t any food that I could have, is there? I think I’m going to faint if I don’t eat something soon.”
“The rice should almost be done and you can help yourself to the bread.”
Tatiana eagerly opened the door. Alister was staring moodily into the fire, the loaf of bread on the floor. Sitting on the ground, she ripped off a hunk and took a bite. She took her time eating it, savoring the yeasty tang. The fire sizzled and Alister shifted in his chair. With the reflection of the fire in his eyes and warm lighting, she could almost imagine how he had looked as a Devil.
Carl opened the door, letting in a gust of wind. He checked the rice, pulling the pot out of the fire with a wad of denim. Tatiana hovered as he filled the two bowls. “Here,” he handed both to her, “Give one to Alister. I’ll eat after you two.”
Tatiana touched Alister’s arm to get his attention. He looked up at her, taking the bowl of rice from her hands, “Thank you.”
Tatiana ate until her bowl was empty. With a sigh of satisfaction, she passed the empty bowl to Carl, then turned to Alister. “How come you don’t usually talk to me?” she tried to speak clearly and enunciate each word.
“It’s tiring, Dear,” Alister’s eyes were glued to her mouth.
For some reason, the way he said “Dear” made her think of her grandmother, and Tatiana giggled to herself. Alister shook his head at her, his eyes flickering between amusement and disapproval.
After she got her chortles under control, Tatiana met those vivid blue eyes and asked, “What do we do next?”
“For now, rest. Tomorrow we’ll bless people in the market,” Alister turned to Carl, signing.
Rest. Tatiana looked at the straw mattress on the ground. It couldn't hurt to lay down for a little bit.
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