Cita was sunk to his nose in the hot water, hoping that the steam could account for his flush. The smoothed stone backrest and seat curved to fit a reclining position, and the gravel lining the bottom of the spring massaged his feet. He frowned at the steam-dampened wood paneling, seeking any distraction. 'Shouldn't that rot in this damp?'
The others had doused him with buckets of lukewarm water while he scrubbed the stubborn patches of mud. They seemed to see nothing untoward about it, but unease whispered in the back of Cita's head. He ignored it as they soaked in the inset pool.
With his nose practically underwater, Cita couldn't help but notice an odd scent. It wasn't sulfur, he thought, but … another vague memory teased. To divert it, he posed a question to the others.
Cita rose so his mouth emerged from the water to ask, "Is this a hot spring?"
Cetan stretched. "It was a tepid spring," he grinned. "The stone pool was here and fed by an underground stream. It's one of the reasons our ancestors settled here. Those with the skill have infused the stones with flame magic. It's constantly warming, but the water keeps it from getting too hot. The excess channels off, so don't be peeing in the water!"
Blue Jay splashed him. "You're the only one that does that."
"That was one time! We were three!" Cetan countered, splashing back.
Bilal moved away from the duo as their verbal dispute expanded into a good-natured tussle.
Cita was torn. 'I should join in, right? But …' He shuddered.
"Hey, you're not cold, are you? Sometimes there's a draft in that corner," Cetan asked.
The brothers broke off their water war.
"I'm fine," Cita answered shortly, settling back into the water.
Cetan seemed to accept this, but Bilal's narrowed gaze fixated on Cita before drifting away.
"Unhcegila said we needed to talk to you, Blue Jay, before we continue our journey," Bilal said. "Before the storm bore down on us, we were tracking a swarm of the Infected that acted oddly."
Bilal told of the swarm that had self-destructed in the field, Nocturne's transformation and summoning shriek, and the swarm that followed. He explained how the Infected turned and came back to the east.
Blue Jay and Cetan listened with detached interest until Bilal mentioned the swarm returning to the east.
"That's out of season," Cetan said. "And the east ..."
Bilal nodded.
The teens exchanged glances.
"Different flame sorcerers have different skills," Blue Jay said. "What one can do with ease, another might struggle with or fail at all together. My … gift … is tied to the future. I knew this storm was coming; the fire whispered it. Three weeks ago, before our trade caravan left, the fire … screamed." Blue Jay shuddered. "'Dark fire' and 'danger.' In the east … or perhaps coming from the east. A town that it knew."
'Wait — he hears things in the fire too?' Cita focused on the redhead.
"We think it's the town that turned out our ancestors," Cetan spoke up. "Southwallow. And what my brother didn't say is that he is linked to the future and destruction. My gift also ties me to the future, but also to hope and … more positive things." He grinned up at the ceiling as if remembering some past mischief.
He sobered and continued, "A flame sorcerer is needed in the east. Or … was needed. The fire has quietened and what was future … may now be past." He looked down, wiggling his fingers under the water. "We … the three of us … well, there was a bit of a to-do. About what the vision meant. So the Elders decided we would stay behind and prepare the barns for winter."
"Yeah," Blue Jay groused. "Everyone else is either off with the herds or on the fall trade run. Sucks to be us." He smacked his hand on the surface of the water, half-heartedly splashing his brother.
Cita's head tipped to the side. 'If all three are being punished, Unhcegila doesn't have as much authority as she pretends.' He opened his mouth, but Blue Jay cut him off.
"Hey," Blue Jay sat up. Water trailed down his chest.
Cita flushed and averted his eyes. Cold fingers trailed down his back in sharp contrast to the warm water.
"Maybe it's not too late," Blue Jay continued. "Maybe the town doesn't need a flame sorcerer. Maybe it needs a flame sum—"
Cetan dunked Blue Jay under the water.
As Blue Jay emerged, sputtering, Cetan chastised, "Tact! Kindness! Remember? It's what keeps people from hitting you!"
Cita's breath was quick, and his limbs trembled. A small wave of water crashed into the side of his face. He shook his eyes clear and met the golden eyes that watched steadily.
"Once we are done soaking, I think your bow needs attention," Bilal offered in a casual tone. "And I am not sure if your daggers were cleaned after yesterday's rain."
"I'm not sure either," Cita confessed. 'At least he doesn't seem to realize I don't remember most of yesterday.'
"We will find out," Bilal answered.
Cita forced his muscles to relax in the hot water.
*****
"So after you've used the whetstone and the leather, you'll wipe it down. I prefer this oiled cloth — prepared by the best armorer in the Freehold. Others prefer bottled oil." Cetan demonstrated.
"If you're lazy, you like the armorer's supplies. It's less expensive to get the materials separately." Blue Jay also exhibited his preference.
Bilal observed without comment while tending his glaive with reverent hands.
"It's not laziness! It's efficiency!"
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that." The two bickered as the group worked.
Cita had found his cleaning kit and was carefully inspecting, cleaning, and waxing his bow. The youth slumped silently in the corner, flipping a dagger of fire through the air and catching it.
"What I don't get," Cita thought aloud, "is how I have my bow and its sling, my arrows, and my cleaning kit. But I don't have my bow case — even though I wouldn't have been transporting my bow without it. This is not my bag. And these aren't my clothes."
Cita shook his head. "Why do I have some of my things, but not all of them? And how do I know that my stuff is missing? Of all the things to remember!"
The youth glared and rolled his eyes. **You wouldn't have your bow case if you weren't transporting your bow.**
"Wait," Cetan interrupted. "What do you mean, 'of all the things to remember'?"
Cita shrugged. "I … don't remember most things. But I want to know where my hoodie went!" he snarled.
**Great. Now they know, too,** the youth grumbled.
"What?!?" Cetan shouted. "That's… no, that's not possible. Not if you can use flame magic."
Blue Jay threw a rag at him. "What does remembering have to do with using flame magic?"
The youth spoke over them, forcing Cita to split his attention. **Can you not keep that to yourself?**
"Well, if you can't remember you can do something, why would you try?" Cetan threw the rag back.
"Great-great uncle Dan couldn't remember if it was harvest season or planting season, but he could charge stones for our lamps all day."
**You don't know these guys from Adam, and what do you think they were going to do when they cornered you in the courtyard earlier?**
Cita's heart rate picked up and his hands shook as they clutched his bow.
"That's not the same!"
Bilal cocked his head, watching Cita jerking his head from speaker to speaker. His stillness was an oasis that allowed Cita to draw a full breath.
"What?" Cita asked.
**Yeah, ask him, why don't you,** the youth scoffed. **As if he tells you half of what he knows.**
Cita ground his teeth, sealing tight a retort that wouldn't help anyone.
"Are you truly seeking answers?" Bilal asked. "Or are you making mouth-noises?"
Cita hesitated. "I'm not sure. Maybe?"
Bilal nodded. The schick schick of his whetstone rang in the abrupt quiet as the brothers stopped squabbling to listen.
"My people have stories about travelers or wanderers. The stories say that these people arrived with strange items — clothes of unfamiliar materials, or food that none recognized. The wanderers described where they came from and told of strange and wonderful things that have no place here.
"They didn't seem to describe the same place, from what my people have passed down. But they all told of a bargain they made with some entity they couldn't name. Each had given something they treasured in exchange for safe passage to our … to the mountains."
"But why?" Cetan asked. "Why would they come to a place they didn't know?"
Bilal shrugged and stowed his whetstone, moving to strop the glaive's blade against a piece of leather. "Most could not — or would not — say. Those that did, according to the stories, were walking and found themselves on an unfamiliar trail."
Cita's mind careened from one fragmentary image to another.
"I didn't walk." He only half-heard himself. "I ran ..."
The youth slow-clapped before going back to throwing his dagger.
Cita inhaled sharply, meeting Bilal's eyes. "Did any of the wanderers ever go home?"
Bilal hesitated. "Some stayed. Most left … but we knew not where. Perhaps they returned to wherever they came from."
"That's… so strange," Blue Jay remarked.
His brother swatted at him.
"What?"
"Can't you see they're talking?"
"So? That doesn't mean we can't try to help."
Bilal shook his head and began to oil his glaive.
Cita inspected his arrows, checking for damaged shafts or fletching.
"What's strange about it, other than the whole thing?" Cetan asked.
Blue Jay spoke slowly, tasting his words before they came out of his mouth.
"Well, it's the mountains, right? The traders at the Freehold say that the Dracaenaekin mountains are impassable without wings." He looked at Bilal. "These weren't travelers from another Dracaenaekin clan or something, right?"
Bilal shook his head in denial.
"So how did they get there?" Blue Jay asked.
"They … well, they must have … oh, I don't know!" Cetan threw his hands up. "What does it matter?"
"If it was here, on the plains, they could have come from anywhere," Blue Jay pointed out. "It's wide-open spaces all around — for days if you go the right direction! But not in the impassable mountains, not if you can't fly. So either the mountains aren't impassable, or these wanders had another way to fly."
Cetan looked at his brother with a tinge of awe.
"So … you're not just a surly oaf?"
Blue Jay scowled and tackled his brother, dropping the knife he had been cleaning.
Laughing, Cita dodged another discarded blade as the brothers started wrestling on the floor.
Bilal used the butt of his glaive to scoot one of the knives out of the way. "Cita, have you checked your daggers yet?"
The youth threw his head back, laughing merrily.