Catori's Worlds by Murielle Cyr

Author:Murielle Cyr
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Murielle Cyr
Published: 2016-05-15T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Maka is standing in front of the cabin when we step out of the woods. She’s holding an old leather haversack over her shoulder and a large eagle feather in her hand. Cold sweat rolls down my arms and legs. It clicks on me – she’s really leaving us. Whatever danger is out there, we’re going to have to face it on our own. Have to trust Miren and Otsoa on this, but I remember how Miren almost lost it before about Maka leaving and I’m about to lose it too. My hands feel clammy and there’s an ache in my heart that’s crying out for Maka to stay.

“So, it’s time is it?” Miren’s voice wavers.

“The cabin will keep you safe. Keep the doors and windows closed, yazhi. News will come when it’s safe to go back.”

Miren nods in agreement. “Of course we – ”

“Were better off in the old trailer.” Otsoa interrupts. “There’s more room for all of us.”

Maka ignores his comment and looks at each one of us in turn. It’s almost like she’s never going to see us again and wants to remember us. “Stay inside the circle of protection, yazhi.” She places her hand on Miren’s shoulder. “You must respect the spirit of the great tree within you.”

I feel the tears forming and I look down to the ground. What a wimp I am. I’ve just met this woman and there’s already a big ball of fire in my heart thinking she’ll disappear from my life. The same explosion of pain I felt when they closed Dad’s casket years ago. That final soft click had propelled me screaming to the wooden box that sealed him away forever. I dig the toe of my shoe into the ground willing my tears to return where they came from.

“Don’t worry, Catori. She always comes back.” I guess Otsoa must’ve noticed my tears. His voice is pretty calm, considering Miren’s biting on her lower lip and looking up at the sky.

Maka turns on her heels and heads for the woods again. We all stand silent watching her gradually blend into the greenery until all is left is the lingering smell of sage.

Otsoa places his guitar down on the grass and digs into his backpack to pull out a see-through container with two thick ham sandwiches. My stomach does a reality check and reminds me I dashed out of the house this morning without eating. I drop down on the grass beside him, unzip my bag, and fish out my cheese sandwich.

“Guess I should eat something too.” Miren flops down beside me with her carrots and celery sticks. “Otsoa’s right about Maka always coming back, you know.” She nibbles on a celery stick and stares towards the path in the woods where Maka disappeared. “But still, sometimes she’s gone for months.”

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon, girls?” He reaches over and unwraps the small plastic straw from the juice box I just took out of my backpack.

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