The kafira touched the torch’s flame to a nest of dried leaves amid the white stones, and a new flame ignited.
The natives passed a small sack of some substance among them. One took what looked like a small nut from the pouch, swallowed it dry, and then passed the pouch on. The pouch was not given to her or the crew. On the other side of the flames, the kafira set aside the small torch and took up a long pipe. A small bowl, no larger than a thimble, was set at the end, and this the kafira brought near the hovering fire.
“Akar godda deskaru’sheh,” she said and a lick of flame swept over the pipe bowl. The kafira spoke again in a reverent tone, perhaps giving thanks, and then she inhaled. She did not draw the smoke into her lungs, but her cheeks puffed, holding the pungent-smelling vapor in. Selena’s warrior instincts itched and her hand reached for her sword that was no longer at her side as the medicine woman released the smoke, blowing it out in an impossibly large cloud that permeated the entire tent.
The effects were immediate. Selena’s head felt lighter than air and she was sure that she would float straight off the ground. She gripped handfuls of the dirt floor to try to hold herself down. Then her fear of drifting away was replaced with awe, and the sensation of the sand in her fingers. It was as if she could feel each grain as it rolled across her skin. She smiled. To her left was some sort of commotion: Julian was trying to stand up, but the natives forced him back down with stony words and pikes leveled at his throat.
He’s going to be fine, she thought pleasantly. A wonderful sleepy feeling was stealing over her. She watched the fire and could almost imagine its warmth.
In the ring of white stones, the flame danced. The flickering orange and copper and white licks of fire took the rough form of a woman with a swirling gown. She danced and spun and wheeled about. Selena watched, delighted, even as some small part of her warned her that she was helpless, that she and the crew were being drugged and that the natives could walk the perimeter of the circle slitting throats and she wouldn’t know it until it was her turn.
She managed to peel her gaze from the dancing flame. The natives who guarded them seemed unaffected by the smoke and she remembered the strange nut they had consumed before the pipe was lit. They were immune, but this didn’t concern her. They made no threatening moves. Only watched. There was no danger, only joy. The rest of the crew were smiling and watching the fire with the same pleasant bliss; even Cur was chortling silently, and Spit stared open-mouthed, a rivulet of saliva hanging from his chin. Grunt appeared as content as one might after eating a huge, filling meal, while Whistle watched the dancing flame with unabashed awe. Cat’s dark blue eyes shone with unshed tears of peace. Ilior’s head was bowed, his shoulders free of tension, and a contented smile on his lips, as if some great burden had been lifted from him. Julian wasn’t smiling but he was no longer fighting to leave. Instead, he watched the fire in its ring of stones with a hard, unblinking stare, concentrating.
He looks like he trying to stare the fire down, Selena thought and sighed. He is so beautiful…
The fire pranced out of the white ring and into her lap. Selena exulted as the flames spun and whirled, pirouetting on her knee. She felt no heat, nor any tingle that meant heat was present. Only a feather-light touch. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life and tears of joy and gratitude welled in her eyes that the Yuk’ri medicine woman should give them such an extraordinary gift. Her heart ached for Ori who was deprived the sight of this marvel, but the grief was short-lived as the grace and wonder of the flame enchanted her again.
She didn’t know how long the fire danced for her; perhaps a minute, perhaps hours. Time seemed to slow down and then speed up again as the fire spun out of her lap and onto Niven’s beside her. The young man’s cheeks were streaked and he shook his head, as if he didn’t deserve such a gift.
A rough wooden bowl of water was passed around. A native loomed over her and helped her to drink. Selena jerked as the water touched her tongue and the heavy cloud of pleasure she drifted upon was momentarily disrupted. The water burned as it went down, and tasted of dead things. But she was given only a small sip and then the native moved to Niven. Selena took deep breaths, willing her stomach to settle, and then heaviness stole over her. Her gaze wandered aimlessly, blearily. She saw the kifara sitting ramrod straight, her eyes shut and her mouth moving. Chanting.
I wonder what her spirits think of us. I wonder if they…I wonder….
She found the ground rising up to meet her and then her cheek was pillowed on dried leaves that felt as soft as feathers. Her eyes remained closed longer and longer every time she blinked until she gave up fighting it. The last thing she saw before a sweet darkness covered her like an old quilt was Julian. The fire was taking its turn dancing for him but he seemed unimpressed by its magnificence. Sweat trickled down his temple and his eyes were hard as he stared at it, not giving in.
An unhappy man shuns such beauty, Selena thought. But another thought, whispering into the encroaching black, hinted that Julian might be safest of them all.
Accora
Selena forced her eyes open. They seemed sealed shut and her head weighed a thousand stones. Her warrior instincts urged her to get her bearings, to find her sword, to escape. She’d been drugged last night. They all had. She remembered with chagrin how she’d been enamored with a dancing flame. A figment of her imagination or hallucination. Foolish. And dangerous.
She pushed herself off the ground to sitting. She was back in the makeshift cell. They all were. Dawn’s light had yet to break fully, but the sky was glowing in the east. A torch guttered somewhere nearby; the meager yellow light slipped between the branches. The others still slept, but for Julian. He sat slumped against the opposite wall, watching her through one good eye. His other was swollen shut. Dried blood stained his upper lip and chin, and a bright red rivulet was still leaking from his eyebrow. He held one wrist against his chest and even in the dimness Selena could see it was broken.
“What happened?” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She hauled herself to standing and staggered along the pen on leaden legs to collapse beside him. “Who did this?”
“Our native hosts,” Julian said.
“Why?” Selena turned his face this way and that, inspecting the damage. His black coat was streaked with dirt and he had dried leaves in his hair. “I saw you fight the fire—”
“It wasn’t the fire that was the danger. It was the water.”
Selena gently removed his good hand that was holding his wrist so she could examine it.