Free The Wittering Way by Nat Burns Page B

another for a long beat.
    “I’m Cleome and this is Yewsy, with Afton and Brennen,” I said quietly, holding my hands out in the greeting of peace.
    The young woman held her hands in the same way, though I could tell it was an unfamiliar gesture for her. “You’re Witta clan,” she breathed.
    I was alarmed by the young woman’s thinness. In fact, now that I thought about it, everyone here was gaunt and starved looking, even the Lutis. The Lutis seemed wasted as well, with very little of their usual muscle flesh apparent.
    “Yes. We are here to fetch home my sister, Avapeony. I know you talked with her. Can you tell us where she is?”
    Fear contorted her face. “How do you know that? Who told you that?”
    I realized suddenly that she wasn’t supposed to be talking with my sister. “No one,” I hastened to assure her. “I see things sometimes. No one else knows.”
    “Good,” she said, then paused. “I’m Ronat. Ronat of Ray join, with Purth.”
    I quaked even as Afton touched Purth in greeting. Ray join. Of course. We were in dire trouble. “We...I just want my sister. One of your men, your leader, took her from my home.”
    Ronat’s eyes grew large. “You came all the way from Witta lands for her. That’s so far.”
    “Yes, it is,” Yewsy interjected. “Not to be rude, Ronat, but we need to leave. Please tell us where she is.”
    “On level two but you’ll never get there. Blass has men at the lifty thing.”
    “Lifty thing?” I asked.
    “The box that raises Meab from this floor to the next then up to the tower rooms.”
    “What about the games they’re playing? They seem busy,” Yewsy pointed out. “Won’t Blass’s men play?”
    Ronat’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t think of that! You may be right.”
    She dropped her robe, revealing a strange, close-fitting suit that covered her from her cloth boots to her neck. It was woven of tiny metal strands mixed in with the linen. She looked so thin that she resembled ancient drawings of the inhabitants of Lake Feidlimed when they had first arrived here.
    “Can you get us up there?” I asked.
    “I’ve gone before but no one saw me. I...I don’t know if I can do it again.” Ronat was clearly nervous.
    “Signe’s your father, isn’t he?” I asked, watching her reaction to my words. Her face tightened.
    “Yes, and I’m sorry for what he and his men did to your join.” She turned and touched some of the items on the table so she wouldn’t have to look at me. “He is heartbroken. Avapeony’s mother, your mother, was a powerful wit.”
    “Then why did he allow his men, no, order his men to kill her? We saw it all. He killed their father, too,” Yewsy said angrily.
    Ronat whirled and looked at Yewsy. “Don’t you think I know that? My father has been sick on honey wine since. This...this has torn my join apart as well.”
    To my surprise, Ronat’s face was wet with tears, her fammie dark.
    Pain manifested in many forms, I realized anew. “We need to fetch her home, Ronat. Please, help us.”
    She wiped at her eyes and fell into deep thought. By expanding my sense, I was able to feel her indecision. This was not just one Meab helping another, but would constitute a major life change for her. There was no going back from this moment on.
    Her eyes lifted to me and I saw the decision become real, there in her eyes. “There’s an old stairway,” she said. “We can use that.”
    Yewsy and I watched as Ronat fetched small metal items from beneath her bed and attached them to her suit. She shoved Purth aside and donned an over-tunic then shrugged. “Let us go,” she said firmly.
    We crept from her room and followed her along a second hallway, then a third, each one obviously less used than the previous. The final corridor, festooned with cobwebs and old banners from happier times, led to a large circular stairway at the end. The dusty, debris- strewn stairway seemed dangerously unsteady but Ronat mounted it and quickly made her way