Our table was quiet for a while. Then my mother brightened. “You can leave Yelena here while you take the girls home.”
“It will be out of her way to come back for Yelena,” Bavol Cacao said.
Mother frowned at him. I could see her thoughts whirling behind her eyes. “Aha! Leif can take Yelena to the Citadel. He has business with the First Magician in two weeks.”
Emotions rolled through my chest. I wanted to stay, but I feared being separated from Irys. They were my family, yet they were strangers. I couldn’t help being wary; it was a skill learned in Ixia. And traveling with Leif seemed as unpalatable as drinking a wine laced with poison.
Before anyone could agree or disagree, Mother said, “Yes. That will do.” She ended all discussion on the matter.
The next morning I had a small panic attack when Irys pulled on her backpack. “Don’t leave me here alone,” I pleaded.
“You’re not alone. I counted thirty-five cousins and a whole mess of aunts and uncles.” She laughed. “Besides, you should spend some time with your family. You need to learn not to distrust them. I’ll meet you at the Magician’s Keep. It’s within the Citadel’s walls. In the meantime, keep practicing your control.”
“Yes, sir.”
May gave me a big hug. “Your family is so much fun. I hope my family lives in the trees, too,” she said.
I smoothed her braids. “I’ll try to visit you sometime.”
Irys said, “May might be at the Citadel’s school this cooling season if she can access the power source.”
“That would be great!” May cried out with delight. The twins both gave me a quick hug.
“Good luck,” Gracena said with a grin. “You’re going to need it.”
I followed them down the rope ladder and into the cooler air of the jungle floor to say goodbye. Watching Irys and the girls fight their way through the tight trail, I kept my eyes on them until they were out of sight. In their absence, my body felt paper-thin and in danger of being shredded by the light breeze.
In order to delay my return to the treetops, I studied my surroundings. The jungle’s canopy above showed no evidence of the Zaltana dwellings, and the thick vegetation all around prevented me from seeing too far in any direction. Even with the loud clamor of insects, I could hear the faint sound of water rushing and lapping nearby. But I couldn’t push past the growth to find the source.
Frustrated, sweaty and tired of being a meal for every mosquito, I gave up and climbed the rope ladder. Back in the warm and dry forest canopy, and among the labyrinth of rooms, I quickly became lost.
Unrecognizable faces nodded or smiled at me. Others frowned and turned away. I had no idea where my room was, or what I was supposed to be doing and I didn’t want to ask. The thought of telling my mother my life story was unappealing. Inevitable, I knew, but too much to bear at this moment. It had taken me almost a year to trust Valek with my history—how could I divulge my struggles to someone I’d just met?
So I wandered here and there, searching for a view of the “river” I had heard on the jungle floor. Large expanses of green filled every vista. Several times, I spotted the gray smoothness of a mountainside. Irys had told me the Illiais Jungle grew in a deep valley. Tucked into the crooks of the Daviian Plateau’s edge, the odd-shaped jungle was below the plateau’s rim, leaving only one side open for travelers.
“Very defensible,” Irys had said. “It’s impossible to scale the walls to reach the plateau.”
I was fooling around and testing my balance on a rope bridge when a voice startled me and I had to grab the handrail.
“What?” I tried to reestablish my footing.
“I said, what are you doing?” Nutty stood at the end of the bridge.
Sweeping an arm out, I said, “Taking in the view.”
I could tell by her dubious expression that I hadn’t convinced her. “Follow me if you want to see a real view.” Nutty bounded away.
I scrambled to keep up with her as she took shortcuts through the tree branches. Her thin arms and legs reached and grabbed vines with such flexibility that she reminded me of a valmur. When she entered a spot of sunlight, her maple-colored hair and skin glowed.
I had to admit there was one good thing about staying in the south. Instead of being the only person with tan skin, I finally looked as if I belonged. Living in the north with the pale-skinned Ixians for so long, though, had not prepared me for such a variety of brown skin tones. Much to my embarrassment, I had found myself gawking at the deeper mahogany skin colors when we had first entered Sitia.
Nutty stopped suddenly, and I almost knocked into her. We stood on a square platform in the tallest tree in the jungle. Nothing blocked the view.
An emerald carpet stretched out below us, ending at two sheer rock faces that angled toward each other. Where the two cliffs joined, a vast waterfall poured forth, ending in a cloud of mist. Beyond the top edge of the rock cliffs, I saw a flat expanse. A mixture of tans, yellows, golds and browns painted the smooth landscape.
“Is that the Daviian Plateau?” I asked.
“Yep. Nothing lives there but wild prairie grass. They don’t get a lot of rain. Beautiful, huh?”
“An understatement.”
Nutty nodded, and we stood for a while in silence. Finally, my curiosity broke the lull in conversation. I asked Nutty questions about the jungle, and eventually wove the conversation around to the Zaltana family.
“Why do they call you Nutty?” I asked.
She shrugged. “My real name is Hazelnut Palm Zaltana, but everybody’s called me Nutty since I was little.”
“So Palm is your middle name.”
“No.” Nutty swung down over the edge of the platform and into the tree branches that supported it. The leaves shook and after a moment, she climbed back. She handed me a group of brown nuts. “Palm, as in palm tree, is my family’s name. Zaltana is the clan name. Everyone who marries us has to take that name, but within the clan there are different families. Here, crack them like this…” Nutty took one of the nuts and banged it on a nearby branch, revealing an inner nib.
“Your family is Liana, which means ‘vine.’ Yelena means ‘shining one.’ Everyone is either named after something in the jungle or their name means something in the o
ld Illiais language, which we’re forced to learn.” Nutty rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You’re lucky you missed that.” She poked me with a finger. “And you missed having to deal with obnoxious older brothers, too! I once got into trouble for tying mine up in a vine and leaving him hanging…Oh, snake spit! I forgot. Come on.” She hurried back through the trees.
“Forgot what?” I asked, scrambling after her.
“I was supposed to take you to your mother. She’s been looking for you all morning.” Nutty slowed only slightly to negotiate a rope bridge. “Uncle Esau’s back from expedition.”
Another family member to meet. I considered “accidentally” losing her. But remembering the hostile glares that I had received from some of my cousins, I stayed with Nutty. When I caught up to her, I grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” I panted. “I want to know why so many Zaltanas frown at me. Is it the blood smell?”
“No. Everyone knows Leif can see gloom and doom in everything. He’s always looking for attention.” She gestured at me. “Most of them think you’re not really a Zaltana, but a spy from Ixia.”
3
“YOU’RE JOKING RIGHT?” I asked. “They don’t really believe I’m a spy.”
Nutty nodded. Her ponytails, one on each side of her head, bobbed in contrast to her serious face. “That’s the gossip. Although, no one would dare breathe a word of that to Aunt Perl or Uncle Esau.”
“Why would they think such a thing?”
Her light brown eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe my stupidity. “Look at your clothes.” She gestured at my black pants and white shirt. “We all know northerners are forced to wear uniforms. They say if you were truly from the south, you wouldn’t want to wear pants ever again.”
I glanced at Nutty’s orange skirt. The hem was tucked up into her brown fur belt and she wore a pair of short yellow pants underneath.
Ignoring my stare, she said, “And you carry a weapon.”
That much was true. I had my bow with me in case I found a place to practice, but, so far, the only space big enough had been the common room and that was always too crowded. Now was probably not the best time to tell Nutty about the switchblade strapped to my thigh.