34. Wailing in the Night

Dindi

Gwenika unrolled a mat of rushes and lay down beside the platform. Dindi stayed where she was, trying to get used to the strange place enough to sleep.

The animals shifted in their cages. Only the cat and the bunny stayed still. They snuggled up beside her.

When she finally closed her eyes, the warm bodies next to her almost felt like Jensi. The smell of animal fur reminded her of the goats in the pen below her loft back home.

 

* * *

 

Wailing woke her.

Dindi sat up, her heart pounding like it had the night she was kidnapped.

Through the smoke hole in the ceiling, she could see the night sky, sprinkled with stars.

The sound of crying came from Gwenika.

Her grandmother sat beside her, gently patting her back, but looked helpless.

Gwenika leaned over the hearth and vomited. The burning smell filled the hut and made everyone gag.

“Is Gwenika sick again?” asked Gwena, rubbing her eyes. She didn’t sound as worried as Dindi expected.

“What is it this time?”

“I’m going to die,” sobbed Gwenika. “This time, I know I’m going to die.”

“Fa, then can’t you just die quietly for once and let the rest of us sleep?” Gwena snapped.

Gwenika gagged and retched again, though nothing came out. She looked awful.

“One day I will die,” she whispered. “And then you’ll be sorry you were so mean to me.”

“I’ll be too busy catching up on my rest,” said Gwena.

“Gwenika, don’t joke about such things,” said Zavaedi Brena. “You’ll invite the Deathsworn. And Gwena, just rest. You know your sister isn’t like you, but don’t ruin your own chances at… you-know-what.”

“Yes, Mama,” said Gwena.

“She can sleep on my bed,” said the grandmother. “I’ll make her some calming tea.”

They all went back to sleep—except the grandmother.

She stayed up late into the night, brewing tea and humming quiet healing songs.