Page 48 of Romancing Rem'eb

I watch the others as I eat, noting the many children—both male and female—that race around the gathering. I watch them for sickness, too, but everyone seems to be healthy, their cheeks flushed with vigor. The tribe seems to be made of many that look different. Some are of the same people as Tia, whereas others are the blue strangers I have been warned of in the past. Then there is the gold one, who has something to do with the great golden beast we saw before. And there is a green one with scales.

I do not know what kind of people he is, nor the big gray male that they call “Gren.” He is like nothing I have seen before. In some ways he is similar to my people and yet very, very different.

I wonder also at how many they have here, but it will probably seem troubling to ask. Better to ask Tia in a quiet moment.

We finish our food and rinse our bowls and cups, and Tia takes a moment to thank the male and female who cooked it, and then she grabs me by the hand again and takes me back to her hut. She pulls out a short, fat bone with a pointed end and hands one to me, then takes one for herself.

And then she directs me onto the sands and towards the waters that roar and roar. For the first time since emerging from her hut, I get a good look at them. The waters back home in the underground lake are calm and still. They move up and down throughout the day, like a pot being filled, but they do not tumble in constantly like this water. It rushes toward the sands repeatedly, only to taper off and retreat, and then repeats the exact same motions again. It is the source of the constant roar I hear.

Just like the cold, the sight of the water is overwhelming. It stretches for as far as I can see on both sides of the horizon, and when I peer out, I cannot see the other side. “How far does this go?” I ask Tia, stunned. “I cannot see the other side.”

“Verrafar,” she tells me, gesturing and indicating that it keeps going and going, well beyond our sight. I have never seen so much water in all my life, and yet I have grown up fishing the underground lake. Yet this…this is completely different.

Once again, the world above shocks me with how strange it is.

I must wear my shock on my face, as Tia takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. While holding the stick, she tries to mime the tap on her chin. “S’okay.”

I nod. She is here with me, and I am reassured. This is not something to be feared, if their people live this close to the wild, constantly moving waters. It must be a source of food for them. Are the waters sweet, then, I wonder. They churn like a sludgy porridge, large chunks of white and a strange pale grit covering them. More frozen water that falls from the sky, I realize. A massive piece the size of a mountain drifts by far off in the distance, floating atop the waters, and I stare at it in fascination.

“Issa ise-berg,” she says. “Big ice.”

Ice is the water that falls from the sky, and I realize what she is saying. My eyes go wide and I stare at her incredulously. “That fell from the sky?”

Her lips twitch and she fights a giggle. “No, no. Watch.” She crouches on the sands and I crouch next to her, paying close attention. Tia picks up a handful of sand and lets it drift down to the ground. “Ice, yes?”

“That is sand.”

She makes a face at me. “Ice.” She flicks it out, mimicking that it falls on the ground once more. “Ice.” Then she picks up another handful and pours it over one spot. “Ice.” Another handful, over the same spot. “Ice.” When she repeats this with two more handfuls, she has a little pile in front of her.

She points at it. “Big ice.” Then she points at the floating one. “Big ice.”

Aaaah. “So it did not fall from the sky. It is made up of a pile of the smaller bits?” When she nods excitedly, I shake my head. “That is quite a pile.”

The expression of agreement she makes is adorable.

I lean in toward her. “We do not have ice, big or small.”

Tia clutches her heart, staggering, and it takes me a moment to realize she is teasing me. She is feigning shock at the very obvious thing I have just told her.

I mock-scowl, though I like her playfulness. It reminds me not to be so serious. “Can we look around? I wish to see more of the ice and your great water.”

She holds the sharpened bone tool up and gives me a sly look. “Weer gonnagit lunsh.”

I hold my stick up in agreement, though I do not know what exactly I am agreeing to.

“Comon,” Tia tells me with a laugh, and drags me down the beach.

We explore. We walk up and down the long length of beach, and when we are at the far end, where the tall cliffs block us off, we turn and look at their village. It is sheltered here, with the mountains and cliffs cupping it like a pair of hands, and the sea on the other side. From this view, it seems almost…cozy.

It also makes me wonder just how big the world is above. It is not something I ever considered before, but the vastness of it seems alarming now. Perhaps I am not as brave as I imagine myself, because right now, I feel like one of those grains of sand. Unimportant and lost in a vast sea of chaos.

But Tia stays by my side, pointing out things she thinks I will appreciate. We pick up things called shells which are hard and delicate, and wash up from the rolling waters. Many of them are broken, and some have beautiful, iridescent insides. When we find a particularly large one, Tia takes it and stuffs it into her bag.

She shows me that the water is not drinkable. Instead of sweet, clean water, it tastes of salt and more salt. I make a face and spit it out, much to Tia’s amusement. “Fishpiss,” she agrees. “Sohmuch fishpiss.”

How strange to have such a big water surrounding your encampment and not being able to drink any of it. I point this out to her and she shrugs.

Then, she shows me things that the vast waters do have. We find hard little creatures called “krahbs” that scuttle around on the sands, in and out of the waves. We find a smaller pool with fish trapped in it, and a cluster of dark shells she calls “muss-el” that she uses her bone to pry off, and puts them in the bag. Then she shows me spots to dig in the sands. Wherever there is a tiny hole amidst the smooth sands, she uses her bone to dig and up comes a larger shell, whole and with a strange, jelly-like occupant inside.

---