After the End

“Looks like that didn’t work out very well for you,” she says, amused. “You need to lose the Gap Boy look, by the way, if you want to maintain that disguise. It makes you lumpy, not boyish. Anyway that’s my story. I want to hear yours, but let’s see how that ankle’s doing first.”

 

 

I pull the blanket off my lap and prop my bare foot on the side of the table. Tallie whistles. “That’s not as bad as it looked last night. A little more rest, and you should be up and about in a day or so.”

 

“Couldn’t we just wrap it tightly? I really need to go. Like I said, I’m looking for my clan, and although I think that they’re safe for the moment, who knows what will happen?” My voice rises slightly as I explain, and I’m suddenly fighting tears. I pick up my mug and take a big swig of tea, swallow, exhale, and feel better.

 

“Do you know where they are?” Tallie asks.

 

“I know what the place looks like. And I know it’s southeast of here. And still pretty far.”

 

Tallie nods and thinks on it. “Well, you’re not going to be much use to anyone if you’re hobbling around on one foot. And whoever’s chasing you will probably be hanging around the area for a while before they give up, so it’s better you stay hidden for the day.”

 

She begins scooping up the possum bones and placing them carefully into the pouch. “And then there’s Beauregard here, who says we have something to teach each other.”

 

“Beauregard?” I ask, incredulous.

 

“Lula-Mae named the possum after her first husband. Don’t even ask.”

 

I mask a laugh as Tallie continues. “Have you learned anything from me that’s going to help you save your folks?”

 

I shake my head.

 

“Okay, well, it’s your turn. Tell all. Or at least all that you feel like telling.”

 

I hesitate, not because I don’t trust her but because I don’t know where to start. My story still feels so fresh and painful after spilling it to Miles—after seeing him brush it off as fantasy. My stomach twists when I think of him. It’s not like I ever really trusted him. But I entrusted him with my story. And he betrayed me. You betrayed him, too, I remind myself.

 

Tallie sees my indecision and leans over to pat my hand. “You know what? I find late morning the perfect time for fishing. I’m going to go catch us our lunch, and you can have some time to yourself.”

 

And when she returns a few hours later with a stringful of river trout, I’m ready to talk.

 

 

 

“So now your power is gone,” Tallie concludes when I’m finished. We’ve just eaten lunch, and our lips are both stained from blackberries. She scoops the last spoonful of purple cream out of the bowl into her mouth.

 

I nod. “I tried the most basic of Readings last night and it didn’t work.”

 

She places the empty bowl back down on the table. “Try something now. Try your firepowder. Does it work with a candle?”

 

I shake my head. “No, it needs to be a substantial blaze with open air around it.”

 

“It’s not really cold enough to merit a fire, but I’ll build us one anyway.” And she sets to work piling up kindling and logs, and soon a good fire is crackling in the hearth. While she works, I pull everything from my bag and set it out. It has been so long since I’ve seen it all arranged outside my pack that I discover a few things I had forgotten were there.

 

“Tell me what things are for,” Tallie says, placing a hand on my arm. I feel my skin tingle. A little quickening of warmth. Of kinship. Like I felt with Nome and Kenai. And whether or not that feeling is from the Yara, it’s a feeling that I trust.

 

“Telling you what one thing is for is like telling you that basil can only be used with tomato sauce. All these can be mixed to facilitate different Readings, and a few for Conjurings.”

 

I feel like I am back with Whit, teaching the clan children the basics of Reading the Yara as he looks on and makes suggestions or additions.

 

Tallie’s watching me, so I begin. “The concept behind Reading is that everything in nature is alive in a certain fashion. So everything has its own version of what it sees or experiences: either past memories, what is happening in the present, or, since we think time is flexible, a ‘memory’ of what will have happened in the future. Every living thing is connected through the Yara. So Reading is just reaching out to the right element in nature that can give you the information you want to know. Some things, Whit has established as being consistently reliable for transmitting their knowledge, and those things can be accessed by using a certain object that he’s matched with it.”

 

“In a way it’s like Beauregard. He’s my tool for reading the future,” Tallie says.

 

“I have a feeling it might be all part of the same thing,” I confess. “You use the bones to connect with the Yara—or whatever your women called it—just like I can use an animal skull to Read where to hunt our next kill.”

 

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