I set down the stone adze, which I had been unwilling to leave behind despite its weight, and lit a fire in the brazier with a thought and a word. Even this small spell resulted in a sharp throbbing between my temples. Heating water, I brewed a bitter tea of willow bark and rose hips. I drank this, and though I was not hungry, ate a bit of flatbread as the sparrows sang the evening away outside the entrance to the cave.
By the time night had fallen, the tea had done its work, and the pain in my head had receded to a manageable drone. I moved to unroll the blanket, wondering if the bones or artifacts had been broken in the unearthing, or if the valefolk had taken care as I had instructed.
I paused. Turning, I gazed at the stone adze resting beside the brazier. It would be foolish to try the magic again so soon, perhaps even dangerous. All the same, I was filled with a sudden desire so strong that I knew I could not resist it. I wanted to know more of his story. Skyleth. Why the desire was so overpowering I did not know. After all, this was a man who had lived and died over two thousand years ago. How could it possibly matter what had happened to him? Yet somehow it did. Perhaps it was simply that I knew what it was to be an outcast.
Sitting cross-legged, I lifted the curved head of the adze into my lap. My fingers slid across the smooth stone, as if they could feel the memories imprinted within. I drew in a deep breath, hesitating. Then the words of magic fell from my lips like water.
*****
Their daughter was born in the depths of winter.
Ilinana they called her, which meant Child of the Sky in the language of the valley. For though she had her mother’s obsidian hair and nut-brown skin, her eyes were like none ever possessed by a child born into the valley tribe. They were gray-blue, the color of the winter sky, just like her father’s.
The birth had not been easy for Ulanya. For three days she had writhed in pain within the hide-walled hut. All the while, the tribe’s wise woman had cast black looks at Skyleth, as if the wizened crone believed this was his fault. In the end there had been much blood, but the wise woman had worked her craft well, for both mother and daughter had lived. Though the child was strong, and soon thrived, the experience had left Ulanya weakened.
For over a moon she was unable to leave the hut, and for several moons after that she could do little save sit where they had placed her, wrapped in warm furs. However, by summer Ulanya’s strength had returned. And if the shadows had not entirely fled the hollows of her cheeks, then at least they were not so easy to see under the brilliant sun.
Though at first the tribe had been wary of Skyleth, even fearful, in time this too seemed to change.
The day Ulanya had led him into the circle of domed huts-tall, gray-eyed, and naked save for the hide she had given him-the tribe thought she had found a spirit creature on the high mountain. In answer to their fear, he had used a stone knife to cut his arm, showing them that he bled red blood just like any man. Unlike the others, the tribe’s chief had been not fearful, but angry. Ulanya was his only daughter, and he had forbidden her to bond with this stranger. However, at this a fierce light had shone in her eyes. She had grabbed Skyleth’s hand and had led him into their waiting dwelling. It was a woman’s right to take what man she chose into her hut.
For many months the tribespeople shunned Skyleth. Then, in the spring after Ilinana was born, the chief’s youngest son fell into the river, which was white and swollen with the melting snow. The boy would have drowned except Skyleth, doing what no other dared, dove into the icy waters and pulled him out.