Tales from Outer Lands by Shira Glassman

Author:Shira Glassman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: aliens, ff, jewish, bisexuality, warrior women, torquere press, asexuality, shira glassman
Publisher: Torquere Press

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Stella visibly relaxed when Rivka had gotten her away from her abductors on the cliff. "Leah? Leah, Rachel, Joseph," Stella said as they began the hike back down the cliff to Port Saltspray. She was pointing to herself at "Joseph." Then she pointed back down the cliff at the scurrying inhabitants of the port. "Leah." She was using the relationships of people in the old stories to explain who was waiting for her in the city.

"Your aunt is down there," Rivka interpreted to herself in her own tongue. Clearly, Stella was a niece and not a nephew, but Rivka couldn't think of any aunt-and-niece pairs in their common legends, and she surmised that Stella probably couldn't, either, especially on demand.

Next, Stella pointed to herself, then pointed over to the ocean. No -- not to the ocean, her pointing finger was arched upward, as if she meant "across the sea."

"Zembluss?"

Stella nodded vigorously.

Rivka pointed at herself and then to the far north.

Stella nodded again in understanding.

Stella was keeping pace with her pretty well, but she was breathing heavily even over easy ground. Rivka found a flattish rock and patted it, indicating that Stella could sit down and rest for a little. Stella practically collapsed onto it, and Rivka realized she didn't know the last time Stella had eaten.

Rivka took another bread roll out of her purse and offered it over. Stella accepted it gratefully and inhaled it in two bites, almost choking in her eagerness. Next, Rivka gave her a swig from her canteen.

Soon, Stella was feeling well enough to continue, and she hopped back on her feet and started back down the trail.

Rivka made sure to let Stella rest more now that it had clicked in her mind that she needed it. She also kept her eyes peeled for native plants that looked edible, although so close to the sea there wasn't much. The only thing she found were the salty green stems that crunched like a vegetable, but Stella wasn't choosy and nibbled at them as they walked.

The women also passed the time teaching each other their culture's word for bird, tree, and whatever else was easy to indicate by pointing. Rivka concentrated on committing the newfound language to memory, since she was trying to travel to Zembluss for her next career move.

As the walk unfolded, she was preoccupied with how different it was to carry on an everyday conversation in a language she'd previously only used for prayer. A lifetime of weekly religious services had given her no way to ask questions about Stella's life or to entertain her with stories of her own adventures on the road.

There were people far away, even farther south than Zembluss, who spoke this language every day -- they used it to buy fruit at the marketplace and have arguments over the weather and ask their sweethearts to marry them. Rivka thought about them now and wondered if she'd make it that far south in her journeys.

Still, there were some conversations that could be cobbled together from prayer words.

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