Dindi
By now, the men had placed the death jars in a circle, just inside the outer ring of menhirs. Their duty done, Hertio and his warriors left.
After dark, the Deathsworn would come quietly to collect the jars. Until sunset, Kavio had the tor to himself.
He hadn't had time to study the menhirs during the battle, but now he could. Just as he remembered, the stones were marked with strange but familiar signs—lines, waves, arrows, little squiggles. They looked like the symbols painted on many houses, and on the inner walls of the labyrinth back home.
Excitement ran down his spine.
He could continue his search for the truth behind these marks—right here, in Yellow Bear. If he stayed.
To make big decisions, he had a trick. He hadn't used it since the night before his trial—the night he fought with his mother.
He searched the ground and found the right kind of stone. Smooth, silky stones, about the size of a thumb—stones that were probably once used in slingshots.
When he had a small pile, he sat down far from the megaliths, away from the jars and buzzing flies. He flattened two spots on the grass.
He began to place some stones on the left side, some on the right.
When he was done, the two piles were even.
No answer.
That's when he saw her.
The girl he had saved from the river.
As before, when he looked at her, he felt like a man who had drunk sand his whole life, suddenly tasting water.
She walked up the hill and didn't stop until she stood in the center of the three rings of sacred stones.
He stared at her, shocked. Should he call out to her? Or wait to see what rule she would break next?
She stood still, slowly turning in place, looking lost.
He stepped into the stone hedge and went to scold her.
"We're breaking three taboos just by standing here," he said.
Like a sunflower, Dindi turned her face to him. Her eyes shone with relief, joy, and confusion—just like when he pulled her from the river.
He had forgotten how open her feelings were, how they showed on her face like candlelight through a tent.
She must have passed her windwheel test during last night's ceremony.
He wondered what Chromas she had. Did she dance Many-Banded or One-Banded?
Many-Banded, he guessed. Then he wasn't so sure. He couldn't feel her aura. Not even a flicker.
"I never thought I'd see you again," she said.
"I'm sorry," he said. To her, he was just a dirty rover, an exile. "I promised I wouldn't come find you. I thought I'd be alone up here. Why are you here?"
"I have things to think about."
"I hope they're deep thoughts. There are only seven places in the world shared by Fae, Humans, and the Deathsworn. This is one of them."
"If it belongs to everyone, why can't I stand here?"
"I can only tell you what I was told when I first came. It's taboo."
"So you've been to Yellow Bear before?"
"As a child. My father had a friend here—an enemy, really. But Father brought me to make peace."
He didn't explain more. No need to mention he was a treaty hostage.
"One night, my father's friend brought me here and told me something. These rings of stone all look the same, but each was built by a different people. Look."
He pointed to the inner ring of megaliths. The morning sun picked that moment to shine through the mist, casting long, perfect shadows.
"The Aelfae built the tor and the first ring of stones. Humans built the second. That was long ago, before the war between humans and Aelfae. In those days, mortals and faeries often married each other.
They say if a mortal can dance here for three days and nights without stopping, he can look into the Circle of Eternity and live."
"Is that like a faery ring?" she asked.
"It is the faery ring. Humans have many dances, but the fae have only one. Their dance touches all times and places.
That's why a human who joins a faery circle dies. Only immortals can survive eternity and come back. Except here—here, a mortal can see the past or the future.
But you'll learn this soon enough, now that you're a Tavaedi. You don't need to hear it from a scruffy exile."
He scratched his chin, embarrassed. His face was rough with many mornings' worth of stubble. He hadn't had a chance to shave, or to apply mud in days.
The day she gave him her lifedebt, she had avoided looking at his face, like she found him ugly. She looked away from him the same way now.
But she didn't tell him to leave.
She listened while he talked, then let him lead her outside the taboo area, to where he had placed his piles of stones.
"After the war against the Aelfae, the Deathsworn built the last ring. It surrounds the other two. Someone told me it shows the human fate—trapped between the strange ways of the fae and the Deathsworn. Forced to sacrifice to both."
The words had sounded more dramatic back when someone was holding an obsidian blade to his throat.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
She picked up a stone from one of his piles. "What are these for?"
"I have things to think about too. I use the stones to help."
"How?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Another Tavaedi secret?"
He laughed, but he felt shy. This was a private habit. He'd never told anyone about it.
"Not really. I'll explain. I have to make a decision. There are reasons to do it, and reasons not to. For each reason, I put a stone in one pile or the other. When I run out of reasons, I follow the bigger pile."
He waited for her to laugh. Or roll her eyes. Or ask a silly question.
"Can I try it?" she asked.
He opened his hands, inviting her to join.
He stayed alert for teasing—but she didn't tease. Dindi became serious, thoughtful.
First she gathered all the stones to herself. Then she began to place them, one by one, into a single pile on the right.
He waited for her to use the other pile.
She didn't.
"You're doing it wrong," he said at last. He couldn't stay quiet any longer. "You're supposed to put some in each pile—reasons for and reasons against."
"I know," she said. "But all my reasons are against."
She kept placing stones until only one was left. She held it in her hand for a long time.
Then she placed it to the left—alone.
"That decision was easy," Kavio said. He felt jealous of her certainty.
"Actually, I still haven't made up my mind."
"You can't let one rock outweigh all the others. Are you sure you understand the method?"
"Are you sure you do?" she asked. "What if this is the only stone that really matters?"
They both reached for the lone stone at the same time. Their hands touched.
She smelled of wildflowers and the warm, earthy scent of a woman. His blood beat hard in his ears.
"Thank you for sharing your thinking stones with me." She whispered so softly, he had to lean in close to hear her. "I know what I will do."
"Dindi…" he began.
"I must go. There's a banquet to honor someone who fought here last night. Will you come?"
"I haven't decided."
"I understand. Without a clan…" She looked troubled again. "I'm sorry."
She left the way she came—walking straight through the center of the three rings of stone he had warned her about.
She disappeared into the grass beyond the hill.
Kavio knelt and rebuilt his thinking stones, one at a time.
He finished with an even split—again.
He picked up one last pebble to break the tie.
Eyes closed, he could still see her in the morning sun. Her cheek and bare arms dappled with light, asking,
What if this is the only stone that truly matters?