Slow Burn by Tommy Wallach

Author:Tommy Wallach [Wallach, Tommy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781481468435
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

7. Gemma

THE WATER FROM LITTLE OCEAN was too salty to drink, so Gemma had to hike more than a mile to fetch fresh water from upriver. She carried it in two hide bags attached to a large stick balanced on her back. She was never thanked for her efforts on the otsapah’s behalf, no matter how arduous the chore she’d completed or how elaborate the meal she’d prepared. The woman the Wesah called Grandmother (a moniker Gemma had been expressly forbidden from using) never spoke to her except to order or demand, and never referred to her as anything other than li dahor.

Meanwhile, the education of Helene, the young Wesah woman Gemma had seen outside that first day, continued apace. When Gemma was in the hut with the two of them, she could absorb some of the lessons, but inevitably she’d be sent off on some tedious errand or another, and by the time she returned, the otsapah and her student would’ve moved on to another subject. Helene at least seemed bothered by the disparity in their treatment; she was always glancing guiltily at Gemma, then looking away as soon as they made eye contact.

One night Gemma was out behind the hut dressing and butchering a rabbit, listening to Grandmother’s voice through the wall. The otsapah was telling a piece of the great origin tale of the Wesah, a seemingly endless saga centering around Wolf and Fox, two deities at war over the souls of mankind. They were a little like God and the devil in the Filia, except Gemma couldn’t tell whether Fox or Wolf was the more evil. Fox was a trickster; her playfulness often shaded into cruelty, fooling otherwise good women into iniquity. Wolf was less clever but more brutal, a god of carnage. In the tale Grandmother told that night, Fox had her followers murder a tribe of Wolf’s adherents and dress in their pelts, so they could sneak into Wolf’s camp and learn her secrets. Wolf recognized the interlopers too late, and one of them managed to steal away her great fangs, which were said to have the magical power to . . .

“Dahor, this is not for you!” Grandmother suddenly shouted. Even from inside the hut, she’d noticed the momentary lapse in chopping. Gemma had to swallow down a surprisingly intense burst of hatred; was there anything worse than hearing the beginning of a story only to be robbed of the ending?

“Ni mihtatayn!” she called out in response. I’m sorry.

However much it burned, she never showed anything but gratitude for every coarse insult and thankless task Grandmother threw her way. She had to win over the otsapah somehow; it was the only way she could ensure her continued acceptance by the Wesah, and more importantly, her place at Athène’s side.

♦ ♦ ♦

The chieftain had a large hut all to herself in the Villenaître, and inside that hut was an actual, honest-to-goodness bed, with a rough-weave mattress and a quilt prickly with goose feathers. The

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