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Chapter 8: Talk the Talk

  My head hangs down as I get dragged through the tribe.

  The tribesmen look on in curiosity, whispering to each other as my bloody form crosses their path. They move out of the way of my guards, careful not to get too close. I’m sure I could listen in and try to pull out any information that slips through the cracks of their mouths, but my head is ringing and I’m simply too tired to care.

  Eventually they drag me near the center of the tribe and into one of the bigger tents. The moment we’re inside, they drop me to the ground and move back near the entrance to wait.

  I stay where I fell for several minutes, unmoving, letting my body rest.

  Then I hear the tent flap open.

  I look up and see an elderly woman walk in, the same one who fed me that bitter drink before. She looks down at me, sees that my eyes are following her, frowns, and then just leaves.

  That’s it.

  What the hell was that?

  The moment I saw her, I assumed I’d at least be treated. But instead she seemed upset just by the sight of me. I wonder how much of the fight spread through the tribe already. I’m sure whatever version people are telling does not favor me. After all, why would they defend a stranger over one of their own?

  I keep lying there as my thoughts and feelings cool down enough for my actions to properly settle in my mind.

  That last fight was certainly strange.

  I still don’t know why Marek gave me that kind of beating. Was it somehow related to Liang? And then there was the fact that he was taunting me, which was quickly suppressed. At least somewhat. Possibly by Yuren.

  I snort at that.

  Me getting beaten red and blue didn’t seem to get much of a reaction from anyone, but the moment Marek started talking about what they planned to do with me, that was where they drew the line.

  I sit up slowly and think over his words, blood dripping from my nose. I gently wipe it away with my forearm, trying not to press on it and make it hurt more. I really hope it isn’t broken.

  So. I’m an Omen. That much I already knew from Kharun.

  But there was more.

  Apparently I was touched by the night. Whatever that means. Probably because of the eclipse when I arrived in the valley.

  But there’s one part that makes me mentally squint.

  They wanted to use me against the valley like some kind of human weapon.

  Maybe they see me as an agent of night, or whatever it is they believe touched me. Something sent with purpose. Something with a duty.

  I’m pulled from that thought when another woman enters the tent.

  She’s carrying a jug and some kind of towel. Around her neck I notice she wears two necklaces instead of the single one my guards wear. The guards immediately go more alert, though not in a respectful way. More like they’re watching me closely, making sure the heat of the earlier match doesn’t make me do something foolish.

  I stay still and let her approach.

  She kneels in front of me and opens the jug. A light scent of herbs wafts out. She tilts it and wets the towel with what looks like herb-infused water, then gently reaches toward my face and begins wiping it clean.

  She works carefully and slowly, making sure not to aggravate any of my wounds. She’s especially careful around my nose.

  I don’t know what kind of herb they used, but it numbs the pain. Barely.

  As she wipes down my injuries, I notice that her hands are trembling ever so slightly. Her face stays composed, but I can still see the nervousness bleeding through.

  She’s afraid of me.

  Awesome. Exactly what I needed while trapped in the middle of a tribe. For them to be afraid of me.

  I think about trying to break the tension, maybe cracking a bad joke, but seeing how tense the guards are, I decide that this is not the time and to just endure it in silence.

  Once she’s done, she picks up the jug and towel and leaves the tent, only to return shortly after with another jug and another towel. This time she sets the jug down.

  “Can Jie Mins stand up?” she asks calmly, respectfully even.

  Curious, I do as she asks.

  Then she immediately starts stripping me. That catches me completely off guard.

  By the time I unfreeze I was already halfway stripped. Not knowing what else to do, I let it happen until she reaches for my underwear. Where I quickly grab onto it, making sure to avoid touching her and aggravating the guards and shake my head, making her look up at me in confusion.

  “I would like to keep that on,” I say, gently but firmly.

  She seems conflicted by whatever duty compels her to clean me, but ultimately decides not to push it. Instead she kneels, pours water onto the towel, and starts wiping me down.

  This whole situation confuses me.

  I expected some kind of repercussion after the fight, maybe especially after what happened with Liang. Instead I get ignored by the local healer, then lightly treated, and now I’m being washed.

  Knowing I’m on thin ice with everyone in the tribe, I just let her pat me clean.

  Then a thought strikes me.

  Are they preparing me for a sacrifice? Is that why they’re cleaning me?

  Maybe it’s some kind of ritual. Maybe they don’t sacrifice dirty people.

  The thought makes me want to stop her right there.

  But looking at the guards and how ready they are to jump, I decide to let this play out for now. I doubt I could take both of them down, and the trick with grabbing a spear won’t work on two people, especially not when they’d likely be expecting it.

  Once she’s done, she grabs the jug and my clothes and heads for the exit.

  I step forward to stop her.

  “Leave my clo-”

  I don’t get to finish. Both guards level their spears at me.

  I immediately take a slow step back and raise my hands to show I mean no harm.

  They do not lower their spears.

  The woman leaves quickly, then comes back again carrying a different set of clothes. Not mine.

  She places them just inside the entrance and walks away.

  “Put these on,” one of the guards says, gesturing with his spear.

  I nod and approach slowly. I grab the clothes and put them on.

  They don’t quite fit right, but since they aren’t especially tight and have looser sections with knots to tighten them, it isn’t too bad.

  Once I’m dressed, I’m led back outside and into the tent next door.

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  This one is nice.

  Really nice.

  Various charms hang on and around the entrance, even more than mine. Inside, the tent feels cozy in a way I haven’t seen yet. There are sitting mats laid out around a central one that seems meant for food or important items. No furniture, of course, but the interior is partitioned, and this section looks like it’s meant for guests.

  Plenty of charms hang around, and there are even carvings decorating parts of it. Altogether it’s the most luxurious place I’ve seen so far.

  Is this the chief’s tent?

  The guards stay at the entrance until a different shift comes in to replace them. These new ones wear two necklaces with that same strange symbol.

  I’m told to sit, and I do.

  While waiting, I finally put more thought into the necklaces.

  Are they a sign of status? If so, why would Yuren put one on just to spar with me and then take it off after? Is it some kind of protective charm? And if it is, why didn’t I get one? I wonder if I will get answers about that today?

  A rustle comes from one of the partitioned sections, and two people step into the room.

  One is an older man, though like everyone else here he still has the same black hair that has begun to grey and black eyes. He carries more weight than most, like he’s never had to work hard for his food.

  To my surprise, the other is Liang. She walks in stride with him. She doesn’t meet my eyes until they sit across from me.

  The man gives me an even stare and opens his mouth.

  “It is good to finally see you in person, Omen, the one touched by the Spirit of the Night.”

  I frown at the opening.

  That is clearly some kind of warning. He doesn’t even bother to use my name. You do not casually call someone an Omen while deliberately leaving out their name.

  “You have been giving us quite the headache for the past months as we tried to figure out who you are, and for what purpose you were sent as an agent against the valley.” He keeps going without waiting for me to reply. “You came into the valley village bloody and bruised, a man who looks nothing like any wanderer we or the valley have ever seen. And in your wake you brought darkness that blotted the sky.”

  He pauses.

  “Tell me. What is your purpose?”

  I think over what he means.

  This is clearly an interrogation.

  But without knowing exactly who he is, I’m not sure how I should approach him.

  I shoot Liang a glance. Her eyes flick upward almost imperceptibly, and she gives the slightest shake of her head. So slight I almost think I imagined it.

  I think over what she might mean and settle on a politically neutral answer.

  “I do not know. All I know is waking above the waterfall and then being forced into the valley by a predator. I cannot speculate on the will of Spirits.”

  I make sure to say speculate specifically, because I think that might have been one of the reasons Liang had to disengage from our last lesson. Maybe I crossed some line by speculating that a spirit would enjoy my alcohol.

  I keep my eyes on the man while watching Liang from the corner of my vision. Her eyes return back to normal.

  Since I currently have the lead in the conversation, I decide to ask a question of my own.

  “How can I call you?”

  That earns a frown from Liang and a smile from the man, which makes me grimace internally while keeping my face neutral.

  “Oh, how rude of me,” he says. “You can call me Wen. I am the ritual leader of this tribe.

  “I alone am tasked with interpreting the will of the Spirits, as speculation can lead to the ruin of the whole tribe as fools vie for their own agenda. I am the only one with the knowledge and skill to do so.”

  So the first question really was some kind of trap.

  I don’t know what it would have led to exactly, but it’s good I dodged it. I’ll have to thank Liang later.

  Wen continues.

  “You see, even I cannot know for certain what the Spirits will. The Mountain Spirits have not responded since your arrival, so I cannot lead you to an answer. Even now, after I maintained the approach on how to treat someone bearing an Omen whose outcome we do not yet understand, you still led to the death of one of the sons of the tribe.”

  This time I interrupt him. I have to, even if its a risk, this information is too dangerous towards me.

  “What do you mean I killed someone? I have done no such thing. I may have fought the man earlier, but I did not kill him.”

  He frowns, thinks it over, then answers.

  “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it was the Night Spirit that took him after the charm of the mountains failed during your training, after he angered you. He had shook violently after, probably trying to prevent his soul from wandering, but it is foolish to fight a Spirit.”

  I pause, trying to process what he means.

  Then the picture starts forming.

  The charms were probably some kind of protection against me.

  Maybe my status as an omen means they think I leak chaos into people and surroundings. Is that why my tent has more ornaments than almost any other one besides this tent and a few others? Are they meant to contain me?

  And are the necklaces meant to temporarily stop my supposed aura from infecting the people who interact with me?

  Then my mind catches on the word shook.

  It sounds like Marek had a seizure after our fight and died, and this ritual leader is chalking it up to his charm failing in my presence. He most definitely had a seizure from a brain injury of some sort, but I decide to keep my mouth shut for the time being.

  Wen keeps speaking.

  “You are dangerous. We do not know whether you will simply bring about the fall of the valley or drag all of us down with it. Why should an individual so dangerous be allowed to remain under the protection of the tribe? After Marek died, even if not directly because of you but through the action of a Spirit, you still pose a risk to everyone in this village.”

  He pauses only a moment.

  “Even if Yuren was initially satisfied by your battle, I am certain the death of Marek soured whatever positive feelings he held about it. Why should the tribe keep you?”

  So Yuren really was pleased back at the end when I had fought back against Marek.

  But I agree with Wen. Whatever positives that fight brought me are probably crushed under the weight of one of their own dying afterward.

  This really does feel like a trial. And worse, it’s like I’m being offered the possibility of a pardon if I simply give the right answer.

  But what would that answer be?

  Wen waits patiently, not seeming to be in any hurry to give the verdict of my fate.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch Liang giving the slightest nod. I frown internally.

  What was that for? She clearly thinks there is a way out of this and that I just need some encouragement to find it.

  Assuming she’s actually on my side.

  Why, I don’t know. But I’ll take an ally in my current situation.

  So I think back through my interactions here, everything I’ve heard, everything I’ve said.

  Two things rise to the surface. Both from my last meaningful interaction with Liang.

  The first is her comment about how some people are expected to meet the world with sharper edges. Clearly meaning me.

  And it worked. At least for a little while. Yuren had been satisfied, if only briefly.

  They obviously need me. Or at least think they do.

  I doubt they’d bother giving me a trial if I wasn’t worth the trouble, especially after Marek’s death.

  But that alone won’t be enough after the incident.

  They know now that I have the edge they were hoping for. What they need now is something more, something that justifies overlooking the death of one of their own.

  And the only thing I have besides my size and strength is my brain.

  Knowledge.

  But I need to be careful.

  The last thing I need is to drag spirits and misunderstandings into this again. I need Wen to draw his own conclusions. I simply need to hand him the tools and hope he paints the picture I want.

  I grit my teeth at the risk I’m taking, then open my mouth.

  “I am knowledgeable. Not about your customs or your way of life. But the tribe I come from was a powerful tribe. They knew how to tame the earth. They had tools and food that could cure illness and keep people healthy and fed. I was not important in that tribe, but I can bring that knowledge here. I can help bring those things from my mind into the world. I can be both the spear that you need to point at the valley and the record to improve the lives of the tribesmen”

  He snorts.

  “Like the wine you would use to bribe a spirit.”

  For a second my brain stalls. Then I catch Liang giving the faintest shake of her head, and I force down the fear of being caught in a trap from trying to crawl up my spine.

  “Of course not,” I say at once. “I do not have the qualification to assume anything about Spirits. I only thought the water could bring many benefits to you and your people. It can temporarily dull the mind and give courage. It could also be used to keep water alive and help keep people healthy. I just need a chance to prove it.”

  I’m rambling a little now, but hopefully it contains the confidence for him to put his trust in my word.

  Wen studies me.

  “Are you willing to stand by what you said? That you will produce for me this miracle water? And if you fail, are you willing to bear responsibility with your life?”

  He looks deep into my eyes.

  I see Liang nod again, but this time I hesitate.

  Do I really want to stake my life on this?

  I know roughly how alcohol is made, mostly through yeast. I’m sure I can figure something out even without proper tools, but how much time would they give me? Then again, do I even have a choice?

  Probably not. I refrain from frowning.

  “I swear on my life that I can bring you this miracle water.”

  He nods once.

  “I will hold you to that. You may leave.”

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