Page 29 of Circle of Days
But she could not think what to do, so she tried again: “We’re lost and we want to go home.”
The woodlanders spoke among themselves, as if discussing what to do next. Then suddenly three of the men picked up the three girls and slung them over their shoulders. Vee screamed and Roni sobbed. Joia wriggled fiercely, trying to get free, but the man was too strong for her.
The men carried them through the undergrowth, followed by the rest of the group, all chattering excitedly among themselves. Joia feared what they might be going to do. Will they rape us, she thought? Or even kill us and eat us?
She stopped struggling, too tired to go on with a useless effort.
Soon they emerged from the wood onto a grassy plain.
The three men put the girls down.
Joia looked around and realized that they were in exactly the place where they had entered the wood.
Without speaking, the three girls began to run.
All the woodlanders roared with laughter.
Afterward, Joia had pretended that she never thought the woodlanders intended any harm. Vee and Roni said they, too, had never really felt in danger. All three of them were lying, Joia realized.
Her reverie was ended by her sister’s voice. “Are you going to walk past me without speaking?”
Joia came back to the present. “Sorry, Neen,” she said. “I was daydreaming.”
The sisters were close. Neen had often been tasked with looking after young Joia, so they had spent a lot of time together. Joia now understood that Neen had a strong mothering instinct. She had played games with Joia, told her stories, sung songs, and taught her the good manners that were so important in the community of the Great Plain. Joia in turn had worshipped her big sister, and still loved her for her kindness and wisdom.
“I was remembering that time I got lost in the wood,” Joia explained.
“Oh.”
Joia saw that Neen was distracted, and she guessed why. “No word from Seft yet?”
“No. I still have no idea what has happened to him.”
Joia remembered Seft limping away from the Midsummer Rite,his handsome face a mass of cuts and bruises and tears. “Perhaps he just went back to his family.”
Neen said: “Or he might have kept walking, beyond the borders of the plain, to start a new life somewhere else. Or he might have drowned himself in a river.”
Joia was disappointed for Neen. Seft seemed right for her. Neen wanted to be a mother, and Seft—judging by the easy way he had chatted to young Han—seemed to have the makings of a natural father. He was younger than Neen—sixteen midsummers to her eighteen—and quite shy, but very handsome, with his pale, narrow face, high cheekbones, and curved nose. Neen said he was clever, too.
Now she said: “I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.”
“Wait till the Autumn Rite,” Joia said. “We’ll either see Seft there or get word of him.”
“I suppose so.”
At some point, Joia feared, Neen would have to give up hope.
Joia did not have the same aspirations as Neen. She did not think she would be a good mother. And she had never fallen in love with a boy.
There was definitely something wrong with her.
It was still dark when Joia woke up. She immediately remembered the adventure planned for the day. Yesterday she had been all confidence, but now she felt worried. Was it a completely stupid idea? However, she was desperate to learn more about the priestesses. They held the secrets of the sky, and Joia ached to know them.
She listened to the night sounds of her family, lying around her on the hides that covered the earth floor of the house. Neen was breathing evenly, Han was muttering a little in his sleep, and their mother was snoring. The puppy—now called Thunder—sensed that Joia was awake, and wagged optimistically, his tail beating the ground, but it was a familiar noise and did not disturb the sleepers.
Joia wondered how long it would be before daybreak. She was wide-awake, so it must be soon. She had to leave, silently.
She felt around, found her shoes, grabbed them, then stood up. She was wearing her tunic—she slept in it, as most people did. Carrying her shoes, treading softly, she lifted the wicker gate, slipped through the doorway, and replaced the gate carefully, making no noise. Thunder gave a disappointed whimper that was almost human: she was tied up, and could not follow Joia. Once again the puppy’s noise did not wake anyone. No one else stirred.
