The Darkangel by Pierce Meredith Ann

Author:Pierce, Meredith Ann [Pierce, Meredith Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Speculative Fiction
ISBN: 9781417792627
Google: T4dlPgAACAAJ
Amazon: 0316067237
Goodreads: 92717
Publisher: Tor
Published: 2013-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

9. Eclipse

The people of the Ma'a-mbai were tall and dark. They had the darkest skin Aeriel had ever seen, a dusky rose hue the color of cinnamon. They wore loose, sleeveless smocks of pure white seedsilk and carried long, knobbed walking staves. They owned few possessions, spoke softly to each other as wind among reeds, and their hair grew close to the scalp in coarse, tight curls.

They were nomads, Aeriel discovered, combing the desert for game and other foodstuffs.

That they had taken away her torn and bloodied kirtle and given her one of their own garments, Aeriel realized the first time she had awakened clearheaded enough to take in her surroundings.

Their leader, Aeriel learned, was called Orroto-to—a tall, spare woman of middle years and few words. She tended Aeriel's wound with poultices and herbal broths. At first Aeriel slept much, but gradually, as Solstar rose toward its zenith and Oceanus waned, she felt her strength beginning to return. And the Ma'a-mbai bore her along with them as they moved east.

At one point, after much travel and little resting, the Ma'a-mbai laid their camp next to a stony wall, drove their staves into the sand, and hung their canopies from them. Aeriel they laid in the shade of one of these, and Orroto-to knelt beside her, feeding her choice bits of a roasted desert hare. Aeriel turned to her; she was feeling well enough for conversation.

"The desert cannot hold much food," said Aeriel.

Orroto-to tore off another tender bit. "There is enough," she said.

Aeriel savored the taste of the morsel in her mouth. "Still," she said, "there would be more for your people if I were not here." She had not touched the duarough's velvet pouch—now worn on a thong about her neck—since she had been with the desert folk.

Their hospitality did not permit a guest to draw upon her own provisions.

The desert woman checked the poultices on Aeriel's throat and added a few drops of water from a shallow dish on the sand beside her. "The Pendarlon has asked us to see to you," she said, "and that is enough."

"The Pendarlon?" said Aeriel, puzzled. "Who is that?"

Orroto-to gave a throaty laugh; her wise, pale brown eyes danced. "You do not know? He is the one who rescued you."

Aeriel gazed at her, surprised. "The lyon?" The other nodded. Aeriel glanced down. She had occasionally heard the people of her village exclaim oaths of "By the Pendarlon," but she had never used the expression herself. "But," she said at the last, "what does it mean?"

"Pendar-lon," her physician explained. "It means 'Warden of Pendar.' " That her voice held no rancor encouraged Aeriel to inquire further.

"And where is Pendar?" she asked.

Orroto-to looked at her in surprise. "Why, this," she exclaimed with a nod that took in everything around them. "All that you see about you to the horizon and beyond."

"But I thought," said Aeriel, "I thought that Pendar was a great land of cities and ancient wisdom. Talb said the Old Ones lived in Pendar.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.