Page 6 of Lore of the Wilds

Please, let them be all right.

Please.

Lore cried out when she saw the huddled children in the now exposed playroom.

Aunty Eshe rushed to meet her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Lore inhaled her scent of jasmine, sweat, and relief. “Are—”

“Yes, yes, all accounted for. You were the only one missing.”

Lore slipped from Aunty Eshe’s arms and sank to the ground, sobbing in relief. Suddenly, the kids were piling atop her, hugging her, and crying with her. Touching each of their faces inturn, she chuckled as they all started to yell, telling her a different version of the same tale. For them, the earthshake was just an exciting event that had happened, and they’d already forgotten how scary it was. The realization that their home would not be whole anytime soon had not yet hit them.

Her eyes turned to Uncle Salim, who knew, as she did, what this meant for them. In a matter of moments, their lives had changed irrevocably.

The earthshake had leveled the winery, same as the shop.

They would no longer be able to support the children.

Uncle Salim was surrounded by a pile of glass. His broom was frozen mid-sweep. Curly salt-and-pepper hair was plastered to his dusty face. His leather gloves were caked in dirt, and tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the blood that had trickled from a head wound on his brow. Lore noted a nasty gash on his elbow, which steadily dripped blood onto the earth.

Katu offered her a piece of clean linen from the medical bag. He was newly twelve, with flaming locks of red hair, mischievous green eyes, and a pale face filled with freckles—he was also usually thefirstto cause trouble. But even he was missing his usual crooked grin. He seemed determined to be as responsible as possible today.

She squeezed his shoulder in thanks and took the linen from him.

She turned back to her uncle, stepping into the space he’d cleared around him. “I’m so sorry.” She swabbed his wound with alcohol and wrapped the cloth around his elbow. When she could retrieve clean water, she would clean the wound, but for now, she just needed to staunch the bleeding.

Uncle Salim wiped the back of a glove across his cheek, smearing the dust into grime. He nodded distractedly, crying silently, even as he bent to sweep up more chunks of brick, clay, and glass.

He needed to rest, but, after twelve years of being his ward, Lore knew that he wouldn’t until this space was clear of dangerous debris. He would always put the children first.

Lore turned back to the kids and sat before Milo, pulling him onto her lap, the last of the children to come in for a hug. He’d held back until the swarm of excited children had thinned. She squeezed his shaking shoulders and held him tight. Even though he was six years old, Milo still hadn’t uttered a word and was often prone to fits at even the smallest change in his routine.

How was he going to get through this?

The other young children were laughing and jumping over the larger pieces of rubble. They were already turning this devastation into a game, trying to make the best of a horrible situation, as they’d always had to do.

But Lore thought there was a new look behind their eyes, one of fear and uncertainty.

... Except it wasn’t new, was it? All of the children had arrived at the shelter with that same look after their worlds had been turned upside down by the tragic events that had brought them there.

It may not be new, but it was a look she hadn’t seen for a while. Salim, Eshe, and, in the last few years, Lore, had tried to mend the children’s heartbreak. She hadn’t realized they’d been successful until she saw the sorrow return to their faces.

She sighed into Milo’s thick, dusty coils. Another loss to add to their long list.

“I’ve got to get back to my mother—I just needed to make sure you and the kids were all right,” Grey said softly.

“I would come with you but...” She motioned to Milo on her lap and the view around them.

“I know. It’s all right.” He knelt next to her, laying his hand on her shaking shoulder. She hadn’t realized she was trembling until his touch stilled her. “It’s all right,” he said again.

But Lore was having a hard time understanding him. Her eyes stung from unshed tears. Her lungs ached for dust-free air.

She was back in that room with Mama, begging her not to leave, to please stay. And Baba was sitting in the corner with his head in his hands, and she knew that she’d lost him before he’d ever really left her.

A blink and she was standing in front of two strangers. Despite their kind eyes and warm arms, she didn’t want them. She wanted Mama and Baba. And then she was back in the apothecary with the power of twofaeflooding her senses and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and the world was shaking, the ceiling was falling all around her—

Milo reached out and placed both of his small hands on her cheeks before grabbing one of her flyaway curls and slowly twisting it around his finger—a comfort for him and now, in this moment, a comfort for her, tethering her to him.

She drew in a shaky breath, panic subsiding for the moment. She would take strength from Milo and give him some in turn.

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