Chapter Eight: I

"Suvi!" Auli exclaimed happily. "You’re back!"

The girl nodded, and hugged Auli again. "I don’t think we’ll be here very long." She turned to face Marja and Risto, who had left the ship and were standing on the dock looking uncomfortable. Jussi stepped onto the dock after them, and nodded to Auli. She nodded back solemnly, and turned to Risto and Marja. "Risto, Marja, this is my grandmother," Suvi said.

The girl and the boy nodded in unison. They could see easily that Auli was a shaman, from the many rings on her fingers and the images of the deities on a chain around her neck, but not a shaman devoted to a certain temple. Only men were shamans of the temples; women always worked separately, usually as healers or wise-women. Not all men served the temples however, some worked alone, like the women. Jussi was one of these. Suvi turned and buried her face in Auli’s shawl, weary and worn with emotion. "I want to go home."

-

Suvi lay curled on her side in bed, watching Auli as she gazed off into the distance, her chin resting in her palm. The woman sat in the chair net to Suvi’s bed; a candle sat on the bedside table between them. Marja and Risto had since gone to bed in makeshift cots by the hearth in the kitchen, and Suvi had just finished telling the events of the time since she’d left Ohi. Auli was silent, contemplating what Suvi had told her. The candle flickered, and a bead of wax spilled over the edge and rolled down the side of the taper. Suvi yawned. She was tired, but not yet ready for sleep.

Finally Auli said, "Let me see the image of the flute." Nodding, Suvi pulled her arm out from beneath the blankets and rolled up the sleeve of her night-dress. There was the picture of the flute, in plain black ink. It shimmered slightly in the light of the candle, and it seemed to throb softly, like a heartbeat. Auli reached out to touch it, and then drew back when her fingers were only an inch from Suvi’s skin. "That’s not ink," she said calmly. Suvi looked questioningly at her grandmother. "It’s not ink," Auli repeated. "It doesn’t feel like magic either. It reminds me of—" she hesitated, unsure, "—it reminds me of the feeling one gets when reading books of prophecy. It’s a feeling like… like touching a vision almost. Like a tangible piece of fate." She glanced at Suvi’s face, then back at the image on the girl’s arm. "Does that make any sense?"

Suvi nodded. "I think it does. The tattoo shows part of the future, it shows which instrument I will play. That’s part of the future, part of fate, isn’t it?" Auli nodded her agreement. "The shaman drew this on my arm, and on the arms of the others, with a knife. You can’t draw things in ink with a knife. I thought at first that it was magic that drew this, but now I don’t think so. I think it’s like a vision. Something told the shaman which instrument to draw, and the power of the vision made the picture appear." She touched the image in her skin.

"Suvi," Auli said suddenly. "It is not safe to stay in Ohi."

Suvi sat up, alarmed. "Why not?"

"We saw no one on the way here from the ship. But that does not mean that no one was watching us. Do you know what colour robes the Kipuans wear?" Suvi shook her head, frowning. "Orange robes. They wear orange robes." The woman sat forward, clutching at the arms of her chair. "Three men in orange robes arrived in Ohi, the day before yesterday. They would tell no one what their names were, or what their purpose was, or who had sent them. They were asking for three fifteen-year-old people, with tattoos on their left forearms. I knew immediately it was you they wanted. Suvi, child, you cannot stay here."

Suvi lay back down, feeling ice cold. "They know how old we are," she whispered, pressing her fingers to her lips. "And they know about the tattoos." She blinked furiously several times, and looked to Auli for reassurance. "If the Kipuans were to stop us form finding the instruments, we wouldn’t be able to give the gods help in the war. They would still be evenly matched, and it might give the Kipuans time to find another way to win." The girl rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow, smelling the comfortable scent of peppermint. But she was not comfortable. "I’m scared. I don’t want to fail."

Auli smiled sadly and moved from her chair to the edge of Suvi’s bed. She reached out to brush her granddaughter’s golden hair from her face. "I know you don’t. And I trust that you won’t fail. Goodnight, my granddaughter. These unhappy things are better left for the light of morning." The woman bet down to blow out the candle, and moved toward the door.

"Goodnight," Suvi said. Auli smiled sadly into the dark, and left the room.

-

The pale grey morning light shone in through the window, falling across the kitchen table and bathing the room in an ethereal glow. The sky was full of fluffy grey clouds, and it was not long past dawn. It would rain, sometime in the afternoon if not earlier. Auli could feel it in her bones. She only wished the gods might have chosen another day for rain. But in a way, rain was also a blessing. Not so many people would be outside in the rain. Of course that also meant that anyone who was outside would look rather suspicious.

Risto yawned sleepily, and ran his hand through his hair. He glanced dully between the two girls who sat with him at the table in the kitchen of Auli and Suvi’s home. Suvi sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking between her two companions, and waiting for the reaction to what she had just told them. They would have to leave Ohi that very afternoon. Risto didn’t care when they had to leave Ohi, but it worried him that the Kipuans were looking for them. It worried them all. The Cult of Kipua was the Cult of Pain; who knew what they might do to them if they were caught.

Marja tapped out a beat on the table with her fingers, her green eyes flicking between Suvi, Marja, and Auli, leaning against the wall in the corner. Unlike Risto, Marja felt as awake as it was possible to be. She’d got the first real sleep she’d had since they left Satama, and now she felt as if everything had become louder and bright. Colours seemed to stand out more, and every noise seemed sharper and clearer, and every smell seemed new and unusual. "What do we do next?" Marja asked, squirming in her chair.

Suvi didn’t answer, but turned to her grandmother. "You should pack your things this morning, in case you have to leave sooner than expected. I’ll pack food for you to bring, but you won’t be able to carry enough food to last you the entire trip—you’ll have to buy more along the way. We can’t get you horses. It’s not safe to buy anything here, we mustn’t let anyone who would tell the Kipuans see you. I’m afraid you’ll have to walk." Marja nodded. Risto only blinked. "But first, you need breakfast."