Lovu

  “I fucked up,” Topal said bitterly as she knelt down to put the creature before them out of its misery.

  “What does that mean?” Lovu asked, looking around frantically. Despite the severity of her voice, she was moving with calm, even determination. He was ready to make a move as soon as she made the call, but it never came.

  “It means this is gonna get a lot messier,” she said as she unlatched the clasp around its foot and slung it over her shoulder. “Plans have changed. We’re not gonna be able to clear Yalyang tomorrow after all.”

  “Why?” he asked, looking at the body to try and find a clue to what had startled her. “Is there something wrong with it?”

  “No and that makes it an even bigger problem,” she said as she scanned the area and started walking off in a completely different direction from where they were originally headed. “Come one, I’ll explain while we walk. Be ready to hide if I say to.”

  He nodded silently and fell in line behind her.

  “There’s a vem’e on me,” she said without looking backward. He looked at the creature, about to ask if that was what she was referring to, but as if she could read his mind she clarified: “Not that. Vem’e are a kind of vit.”

  That didn’t make him feel any better, but his worry was watered down by his confusion. He looked all around them, up at the sky, into the canopy above, everywhere he could think of. Nothing was in sight, which only left one possibility. “Is it one of the invisible ones? Like the foma?”

  “Yup. It punishes greedy hunters who steal other people’s prey.”

  “But… we didn’t steal anything,” he said, screwing up his face in confusion. “You were the one who killed it.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It was caught in someone else’s trap first. As soon as whoever set it came to check, it was dead either way. If I fired an arrow guaranteed to kill and someone blocked it to strike the final blow themselves, it would be tantamount to theft regardless of whose blade drew blood. Same principle, just over a longer period of time.”

  “Oh…” *Crunch* “W-what does the vem’e do? Do we need to do anything to protect ourselves?”

  “That’s what we’re doing now,” she grumbled. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna kill us or anything. At least, not immediately. Vem’e punish greedy hunters by stopping them from being able to catch prey. So long as you have one on you, everything will be able to sense you coming. It scares away prey and warns other hunters that you’re nearby. Normally, it’s just an inconvenience that makes you go hungry. For us…”

  “That’s a death sentence,” he said, completing the part she left unsaid. “How do we get it off of you?”

  “I have to return the prey to its owner and repay the debt by doing them a favor,” she said, scanning the forest ahead before kneeling down, pinching a bit of the brush, and pulling it up to her face. “Looks like they’re nearby. Once we spot them, you hide and I’ll move up to talk. Hopefully they don’t ask for anything too big and we can be on our way nice and quick.”

  “Are there any… rules about what they can ask for?” Lovu asked, the last part of her comment leaving a lot of room for interpretation. “They can’t just tell you to do anything, can they?”

  “Yes and no. They can ask for whatever they need help with, but most people know not to take advantage of that. Just like the vem’e punishes greed in hunting, there are vit that punish greed in other places. Since it was an accident and I’m bringing them the prey freely, my debt is small, but what they ask for will ultimately depend on their situation. If it’s too much, I can always decline, but then I’m stuck like this.” Lovu could see her grip on the rodent’s tail tighten. “At that point, I’d be more of a burden than help.”

  “Nonsense. You would still be my first pick for a guide.”

  “Yeah,” she chuckled, “but that says more about your judgement than anything. You sure you wouldn’t rather have that bodyguard you talked about before?”

  “Akil?” Lovu asked, caught off guard by her bringing him up. Despite how often his mind drifted to thoughts of his lover when the situation allowed, he hadn’t talked much about him out loud. Being separated for as long as they were and under such dire circumstances, the thoughts brought just as much worry as they did comfort. Putting his concerns into words made them more real, so he preferred to keep them to himself.

  Still, as he considered the idea of marching through forest guided by Akil’s broad back instead of hers, it felt wrong. “No… As much as I would love to see him right now, I would pick you. He is a good Honor, but it’s clear that doesn’t matter much out here. After all, he’s almost as sheltered as I am. He may have left the Residence more often than I did and went to Tovlok once to earn his Ember, but he still spent his entire life in Lavote. He even told me to travel to Kamvor on the Highway when we got separated…”

  Tears began to well up in his eyes as the last image he had of Akil burned in his mind: bloodied and clutching the wound in his side, back lit by the burning palace. It was only for a moment before he remembered their situation and forced those emotions back down.

  “In any case,” he said, clearing his throat to cover the waiver in his voice. “You are a much better… navigator that he would be. That’s what you call it, right?”

  “Yup, but-”

  Before she could finish the thought, she pushed him down and to the side behind a tree. It was sudden, but not urgent. Shrinking down as much as possible, he watched as she stepped out of view and called out to someone.

  Her voice faded into the distance while he waited with bated breath for any sign of what to do next. He could hear her talking, but she was too far away to make out the specifics, so he just focused on listening to changes in their energy so that he’d know whether to start running. The idea of peeking out to get a better look at the hunters briefly came to mind, but the chance of them seeing him was too high to risk it. Topal had said the vem’e was on her, but he had no way of knowing for sure that he wasn’t also being affected.

  Despite his worries, there were no shouts, so he was just starting to feel hopeful when Topal called out. “Come on out Lehil! They’re friends.”

  He carefully stuck his head out to find a group of five people gathered in a ring around a campfire. As soon as he did, their eyes snapped to him. The fact that she had used his fake name worried him, but Topal was waving him over without any visible concern, so he cut his way forward into the clearing.

  Unlike how the pair of them had been camping during their travels, this group actually had a tents set up and enough equipment spread out that it seemed like they had been there for a while.

  “Lehil, this is Wemli,” Topal said, gesturing toward the slight looking man at the center of the group, sitting on a stump by the fire. Her normally sharp cynical eyes were showing outright joy for the first time since he had met her. “He’s one of the merchant friends I told you about.”

  “Oh!” Lovu exclaimed as his worry evaporated completely. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Topal hasn’t told me any specifics, but if she is this enthusiastic to see you again, you must be quite remarkable.”

  Suddenly, the shine in her eye snapped back to a harsh glare as she stared daggers at Lovu. Wemli, however, seemed very amused, grinning up at her as he playfully poked at her foot with his. “And here I was hoping you’d have actually put what we talked about into practice.”

  Wemli was wearing nicer clothes than any other commoner they had met in their travels, but they were still practical and worn, a far cry from what was typical of the nobles and merchants he had met with in his villa. He looked a bit older than Lovu, but still somewhere in his twenties, with dark skin and tight curly hair groomed close to his skull. The faint traces of a winding decorative pattern shaved into his hairline were still there, but they were being rapidly overtaken by new growth.

  The most striking part of Wemli’s image were his even expression and slow, graceful movements as he stood to greet him. They were well practiced to the point that Lovu could tell immediately that he would be able to attend a feast in the Lords Residence and feel completely at home.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lehil. May Fam’e bless you on her path and guide you to her peace,” Wemli said, bowing deeply and extending an open palm toward him. It was a standard formal gesture when greeting a noble of higher standing than yourself, so Lovu had seen it many times before, but it still caught him off guard after spending so long in the wildlands.

  “Thank you, Wemli. May she see you to bountiful pasture with your shoulders light and your pack heavy,” Lovu said, not skipping a beat as he took Wemli’s open palm in his hands and turned it downward.

  While the greeting used by the lower status person was always the same, the response of the higher status person varied depending on their particular relationship. In that case, he used the one typically used for welcoming merchants into his villa. It was minor, but it implied his hopes of having a positive transactional relationship moving forward. Under other circumstances, he would have used the greeting for mutual acquaintances, but with the vem’e weighing on his mind, he wanted to make their purpose clear. Wemli appeared to pick up on it, giving a small nod.

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  “We are far from gentle pastures and the world weighs heavy, but under your gaze we shall find them soon,” he said, raising all the way to standing upright. “It is unexpected to find someone such as yourself in so dark a place, but these are dark times indeed. How can we serve you?”

  “That would be best addressed by my guide,” Lovu said, gesturing for Topal to take back over the conversation, as she was ultimately the one who actually knew what was going on, although her face was scrunched as she studied both of them. As Wemli followed his gaze, she jumped.

  “Uh… Yeah, like I said, we-” she said, stumbling a bit as she tried to jump back in, but Wemli cut her off.

  “Come now, is that the best you can do?” he chastised. “You were always complaining about not getting practice. Take the chance when it presents itself.”

  She balked and took a second to realize what he was saying. Once she put it together, her entire demeanor shifted. Her shoulder rolled back and she stood up straighter, pivoting to stand at a slight angle to them. Lovu recognized the stance, one drilled into him during his own etiquette lessons – a way to project cool confidence and authority – although he had never taught it to her.

  “Forgive me,” she said, a little bit too stiffly. “As I mentioned before, I’m here to apologize for claiming your quarry and make amends. I did not see that it was marked for death until my arrow had already found purchase. Please accept my humble apology and grant me the opportunity to… lighten your load?”

  She trailed off at the end as if searching for the words, looking to Wemli for approval.

  “You have improved considerably, but loosen up,” he chuckled as he pulled her into a quick embrace and slapped her back far too brusquely to fit the noble performance they had been putting on. Like a spell was broken, she laughed back and returned the hug until he finally pulled away. “It has been too long since our last lesson. Come and sit. It may have been our quarry that you killed, but what kind of host would I be if I didn’t treat an old friend.”

  Wemli took the creature from her and passed it off to one of his companions – a gruff woman wearing leather armor much like Topal’s, scars tracing up her expose forearms. As she got to work cleaning their dinner, Wemli gestured to a pair of empty stumps next to the fire.

  “So, other than stolen prey, what brings you and your honored patron out to a place like this?” Wemli asked as they sat down across from him.

  “Shouldn’t be that hard to put together for someone like you. Or would you prefer I spell it out?” Topal returned.

  “Ah, a noble refugee,” he said, nodding as he assessed Lovu. “What a cruel twist of fate to be on the wrong side of revolution. Are you seeking home or simply weathering the storm until clearer skies avail themselves?”

  “I once sought blue skies, but I forget their hue with every passing day. Now I seek a garden for the rain to feed,” Lovu responded, falling back into noble euphemism. He had been taught by Lehil that there was a subtle beauty in communicating meaning through metaphor instead of direct speech and that it should be the standard, especially when interacting with strangers.

  “Ah, but there is no garden fit for firm roots in such well tilled lands. How far will these winds carry you?”

  Although the chance to relish in conversation excited him at first, Lovu felt a cold sweat drip down the back of his neck. Wemli was a great conversationalist… almost too good. He was too practiced to have picked it up second hand like Topal, which meant he had regular contact with nobility. The only question was – who?

  “As far as they must. What about your roots? Have these winds torn them out or filled your sails?”

  “Ah, a cautious flower with colors bold and catching to the eye,” Wemli said, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand as he flashed Lovu a playful smile. “Be I bird or beast, my song will not be enough to afford a seat at your table. Instead, allow me to dance.”

  Turning his attention away from Lovu, Wemli looked back to Topal, who had spent the whole time they spoke flicking back and forth between the two, trying to keep up. “Did you follow all of that?”

  “I think I got most of it, but you lost me at the flower,” she said. “You asked whether we were headed somewhere specific or just hiding out in the wildlands. He said we were looking for somewhere permanent. You said it isn’t safe here and we should keep going further. Then he asked for recommendations, and that was when you brought up the flower. Did I miss anything?”

  “Hmm…” Wemli grinned, before turning back to Lovu. “I’d give that about a 6/10. Does that seem to fit… Lehil?”

  “That is about right,” he said stiffly, still unsure what Wemli had planned.

  “What’d I miss?” Topal asked, but Wemli waved her off.

  “You may discuss it in detail with your patron later. You are being properly employed, so it would be inappropriate for me to treat his time as a chance for a lesson. For now, we should discuss your debt. Under any other circumstances, I’d be happy to call it water under the bridge for an old friend, but I have been communing with Fam’e and it appears you are the answer to my prayers.”

  “Oh no… what do you want?” Topal asked.

  “You see, we’re here on a job. Underground ruins were discovered nearby recently, so we are here to harvest ferhe.” Topal nodded intently, as if that made perfect sense.

  “I am unfamiliar with ferhe,” Lovu interjected. “What exactly is your purpose in harvesting it?”

  “You may know ferhe better as makut,” Wemli said. “Or at least, it is the fungus used to produce makut.”

  Makut was a medicinal salve that Lovu had learned about in the temple that allowed wounds to recover incredibly quickly. In the First Advocate’s writings, he mentioned its use on the front lines of the war against Phakfi. It could turn otherwise lethal wounds into simply debilitating ones and turn debilitating wounds into minor inconveniences. During the war, its use had saved hundreds of lives and it was still kept on hand by all temple apothecaries for emergency situations, but was significantly rarer than other medicines.

  “That is familiar, but what does it have to do with us?” Lovu asked, still unsure about his intentions.

  “You see, ferhe only grows deep underground. It takes us nearly a day to reach the bottom of the ruins where we expect to find it. We just returned from one such descent after running into a rather unpleasant obstacle near the bottom – a hamwollol. Didn’t realize until we had already lost one of our party.”

  Without Lovu even needing to ask, Wemli turned back to him. “A hamwollol is a vit that takes root in places of ancient significance. It crawls over the floor like vines. All it takes is one touch to trap you in a maze of dreams that very few escape. They are quite rare and deadly, but have a very specific countermeasure.”

  “Fengya,” Topal said definitively. “Did you not bring any with you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “I did bring enough to deal with something like this, but…” Wemli said, staring daggers at one of his Scar companions tending the fire who refused to meet his gaze. “Somebody decided to take a little trip with it the night before we descended to get rid of the pre-dive jitters. So, we need more.”

  “Isn’t there an apothecary in Yalyang? You should-” Topal started, but Wemli shook his head.

  “Oh, we could do that, but a certain somebody also tried to haggle with said apothecary while we were there and got a little too… aggressive.” Wemli continued to stare down the Scar pointedly staring into the flames instead of engaging.

  “So they’d gouge you if you went back,” Topal said in understanding.

  “If they even let us in the door. Which is why I would be incredibly grateful if you could make a quick jaunt into town and buy it on my behalf. I am happy to front the cost, but somebody else’s face needs to be the one doing the purchasing.”

  “Sure,” Topal sighed. “I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning to make it quick. I don’t want to lose too much daylight.”

  “Excellent. In that case-”

  “Before anything is set in stone,” Lovu cut in quickly, “may I have a word in private with my navigator?”

  “By all means,” Wemli said with a grin as Topal nodded and followed him away from the campfire.

  “What’s up?” Topal asked in a whisper once they were far enough away to be confident that nobody would hear.

  “I do not feel comfortable staying in this camp alone,” Lovu said, one eye still fixed on Wemli. “I know it may not be the best in terms of speed, but I would much rather accompany you into town in the morning.”

  “Are you sure?” Topal asked, following his eyeline with a scowl. “Is it because of what you all were talking about a minute ago? What the fuck even was that?”

  “It’s mostly a game of wordplay,” Lovu said, recalling his lessons with Lehil. It was another one of the things he had been expected to learn before he was allowed to host company. They had treated it as a way to make mundane topics more exciting, but in light of his previous conversation with Topal, he started to doubt that was the real goal. “I was always told that, as a member of the Voice’s family, I was expected to maintain appearances. I was trained to play multiple musical instruments, paint, dance, all sorts of things to show off my skill and proficiency. I was instructed to default to that whenever I spoke with people at public events or until I had spent enough time with someone in private for familiarity to not be uncouth. I had always assumed it was something similar – to take common words and make them more elegant, more beautiful. This is the first time I have used it for… something else.”

  “Hmm,” Topal said, clearly holding back speaking to the connection that he was already making on his own. “Speaking in code is definitely more useful. When Wemli said I got a 6/10, what did I miss?”

  “First, he wasn’t just asking about our plans for now – he was asking about my family and whether I was close to their homeland. There are certain metaphors that are common in conversations like that, and ‘roots’ is often a shorthand for a Lord’s ancestry. He was implying that I wouldn’t be in hiding if I was of Er blood, as I should be welcome here, so I must be from another family. And if I was, I must either be heading toward my homeland or, at the very least, a more friendly Lord’s land.”

  “Ah… that’s why you suddenly clammed up,” she said, retroactively putting the pieces together. “So, when you brought up his roots, you were asking about which families he’s close with?

  “Exactly, but instead of answering, he pivoted and said I wasn’t fooling anybody. I don’t know what his plan is, but I don’t trust him.”

  “Are you sure that’s what he meant?” she said, her brow knit in thought. “That doesn’t fit him. And if that’s all I was missing, wasn’t he actually saying that giving a direct answer would be pointless and that his actions would be better proof? That sounds like something he’d say and would match the whole singing and dancing thing.”

  Lovu stiffened as he considered her point. That had been the only phrase he wasn’t confident he understood and assumed it was an extension of the flower rebuke. Usually when he spoke in euphemism it was only for fun. He wasn’t used to treating someone using it as outwardly hostile, so he hadn’t been sure how to take it.

  “Perhaps you’re right, but I still don’t want to risk it,” he said after thinking it over. “I more or less know what to expect from a trip into Yalyang. I’d much rather face that than… whatever he may have planned.”

  “You can trust Wemli. He’s a good person and has only ever done right by me. It’ll definitely be safer for you here than in town. Even if we disguise ourselves, there’s a pretty high chance something goes wrong and someone catches wind of who you are.”

  “I know how hard it is to earn your trust, so I don’t take you vouching for him lightly, but I have a bad feeling. I would rather take that risk with you by my side than expose myself while alone.”

  “Of course, now you finally start taking my advice to be suspicious of people,” Topal sighed, although her tone was still light. “Fine. I trust him, but I was honestly worried about leaving you with these Scars too. If you’d feel better coming, it’s not like it’s that much worse.”

  “Thank you,” Lovu said, breathing deeply like an immense weight had been lifted off of his shoulder.

  Walking back over to the fire, Topal took the lead.

  “You’ve got a deal.”