Chapter Three

Algoma, Chapawee Territories. (3, Caróg, 593 AP. Afternoon.)
Warm sunlight fell across an orderly workbench where a tall man with a sepia hued complexion carefully pieced together his latest project. Chocolate colored strands worked free of his long ponytail, and tickled his nose.
Almost there, just tighten the retention spring and- -BOOM- An explosion rattled the glass window over his desk. Otetiani sighed, and carefully set down his work as he got up. “Third time this week.” He muttered, wandering through the living room past his sister.
“Time to use the “put Suleta’s house out” valve again.” Ogin said without looking up from her book.
“I do hope your friend’s alright.” Said his mother, looking out the window. Black smoke billowed from the stone cottage.
“Not in the head.” Muttered Ogin.
Otetiani winced but didn’t defend her. Being friends with Suleta and Yutu was often a harrowing experience, he stood by them, but he could not entirely defend their sanity. She’d been like this since they were children. How was she not a mass of burns and scar tissue by now? How did she even have hair?
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The breeze blew softly across the wheat fields outside, its gentle caress tickling the grass around the village and the nearby river. A horse whinnied in the distance, barely discernible over the sounds of the nearby mills. The smells of wheat, corn, and cedar wafted peacefully through the air. Except that is, around one of the stone cottages at the edge of town where thick black smoke had begun to choke the air, billowing out the open door. A figure lay sprawled in the grass outside it, staring at the sky. Her clothing was lightly singed, and there were hints of ash on her maplewood skin.
Suleta drummed her fingers against the grass and wondered what had gone wrong this time. The explosion part had worked as it was supposed to, but it shouldn’t have gone off so easily. She’d have to adjust the measurements again. Less saltpetre, perhaps.
A familiar head suddenly obscured her vision, its long raven-feather hair tickling her nose. “Hello, big sister. Did you blow up your house again?”
“Hello, Tiva.” Suleta rolled onto her side and glanced back at the smoke rolling out of her doorway. “Not all of it.”
“Well, I suppose that’s progress for you.” Tiva quipped, her impish smile peeping out as she straightened.
“Always so supportive, little sister. Did you come to help me, or to laugh?”
“Neither. Mother wants you.”
“What for?” Suleta asked distractedly. She glanced at the grass around her. There were her belt pouches and vials and there was her satchel with most of her reagents, but where...her eyes lit on a flask a few feet away. Thank goodness, she’d grabbed the aqua fortis too. She’d gotten all the explosive materials out before- -BOOM- The glass blew out of the windows and both girls hit the ground. More smoke billowed through the air as they tentatively sat up again.
“Blast,” Suleta groaned, watching as the hinges gave up their tenuous grip, and her door landed on the grass a few feet away. “I forgot to grab the flour.”
Tiva made a face as she rolled to her feet. “Maybe mother wants to ask you to live further away from the village.”
Suleta smiled brightly. “Maybe I can live with you!” She teased.
“Thank you, but I like houses that aren’t on fire.”
“Technically, it isn’t on fire. Or only a little bit anyway. I can probably still use it.” She glanced back speculatively. “When the smoke clears out.”
There was a rushing, gurgling sound nearby, and a spray of water gushed out of a series of pipes running underneath the gutters of Suleta’s cottage. The girls glanced towards the water mill and spotted a tall figure with sepia skin, and chocolate hair tucked into a long ponytail calmly watching them, his hand on the valve connecting the pipes to his family’s mill.
Suleta waved at him “Thank you Otetiani!”
He returned the wave, looking resigned.
“How your neighbors can sleep, I don’t know.” Tiva grumbled. “Come on Suleta, I have practice to get to and I’m supposed to take you to mother first.” She hauled her adopted sister to her feet again. “Try not to blow anything up on the way please. Especially me.”
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The soft smells of sage, rosemary, and basil infused the air inside the quiet home, mixing with the smells of cedar, and old leather. The stone house was spacious and well kept. Shelves filled the room with old books, various jars and keepsakes stacked around them. Drying herbs hung from shelves and framed the windows. A soft light filled the room, giving it a welcoming feel. A woman in a deep green tunic and matching slacks sat in the middle of the room, two glasses and papers spread out before her on the table. She looked up as they entered, her long raven-wing hair braided down one side with woodpecker feathers, she showed faint signs of gray, but her amber eyes were strong and vibrant.
Both girls bowed slightly. “I’ve brought Suleta, mother, as you requested.” Tiva said solemnly. “Hopefully she doesn’t burn down your house today too.” Her mouth quirked as she turned away, instinctively dodging Suleta’s arm on her way out.
“Again dear one?” Eyota smiled, her eyes crinkling.
“It's not that bad...probably.” Suleta hedged. “The walls and roof are still intact.”
Eyota laughed, her soft voice as pleasant and warm as her home. “You sound just like Keezheekoni. She never met a fire she didn’t like. Or one she didn’t start for that matter.” She patted the spot next to her. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”
Suleta plopped into the chair with a frown. They’d told her years ago that she was adopted, that her “father” was actually her uncle and her real parents had been killed when she was three, but they didn’t bring them up much beyond that. Hearing her mother’s name on her aunt’s lips felt strange. “What is it, mother? You haven't spoken of my birth parents in some time.”
“I’m truly sorry for that. It’s painful for us because we were all so close, but you deserve to know more about them. Including…” Her eyes filled with pain and her smile broke. “Including the truth about how they died, and why you were never allowed to become a Fire-Dancer like Yutu...and like your parents.”
Suleta stared at her. “I didn’t fail training?”
“Lighting your instructor on fire certainly didn’t help, but that wasn’t the reason they disqualified you. Yutu is hardly more responsible than you, but it was the look in your eyes as you watched the fire that decided the matter; You looked just like your mother. Your parents had that same reckless fascination and confidence, and it got them killed.” Her expression turned bitter for a moment. “They shouldn’t have gone.”
“Gone where? What happened? You said they died on a mission.”
“They did. Let me start at the beginning. “Our ancestors pledged to protect these lands, and the lands of our allies, from any who would harm them, or use their resources for destruction. Many of the secrets we guard could start another war, but there are others which have the potential to do far worse. It was one of these your parents died defending. I know little about it, only that it involves the Northern Accord. Rumors of a map, and legends of a people long gone have surfaced over the years. About twenty-seven years ago a Nasimani cartographer started inquiring about a map fragment with strange writing on it.”
“What does this have to do with my parents?”
“I’m getting to that. One moment.” She reached under the table and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid, pouring some into each glass. “We’re going to need this. It’s not a happy story.”
Suleta accepted her glass, sniffing it curiously. Whiskey. She eyed Eyota curiously.
“The Lunar Conclave insisted we find her and retrieve the map piece. She was a hard woman to track down, always moving. And we weren’t the only ones looking. She was looking for a translator who knew obscure dialects. She found two, both bookbinders. But we arrived too late to save them. The second was in Qeloura twenty-three years ago. That was the mission your parents went on. Keezheekoni, Ohanko, Kohana and two others. The man had a family, he was going to close up and meet them at the beach in another hour. The house would be empty for hours. They were waiting for him to leave when they heard shouting inside...they ran in too late. Whoever else is looking for this map is ruthless. Your mother chased after his murderers and they chased them out of the city, but there were more waiting in the forest. They were savage...your uncle barely survived.” She stared at her glass for a moment. “I don’t want to tell you this Suleta, but you will hear it one way or another, and I’d rather you heard it from us.”
She looked back at Suleta, and this time the pain was clear in her eyes. “You need to know because it’s happened again. And now they have the map.” She took her hand. “Someone is stirring up coals, asking questions that must not be answered. The elders are sending the Fire-Dancers to protect the site itself this time, we cannot keep wasting our resources chasing after shadows. These people are the reason your parents were killed, and it is your right to know. I should have told you before, but I foolishly hoped this was finally over. I am sorry Suleta.”
Suleta stared quietly at the table for a moment, her fingers wrapped around her glass. When she looked up her expression was determined. “Where did this cartographer live?”
“Okutari, a fishing town near the river Nakahi. I do not wish you to go, but I will not stop you. Please, do not engage these people Suleta, only follow them, follow and watch from the shadows. Please don’t be like your mother, she was my best friend and I can’t lose you too.”
Suleta’s expression softened, and she placed her hand on Eyota’s cheek. “I will be exactly like my mother, I will be cautious, just like you.”
Eyota’s eyes twinkled faintly with pride. “Be careful dear one. Although if they get too close to you I trust it is they who will regret it. For once Suleta I give you my full permission to blow things up.”
Suleta smiled. “That I can do, Mother.”