Free The Land's Whisper by Monica Lee Kennedy Page B

mouth.
    Darse’s smile spread in a thick grimace,
more ugly than inviting. “There was an issue. But we will sort it
out shortly.”
    “What was your father’s name?” Colvin asked,
stretching back into his loll.
    “Sim,” he replied hesitantly. Darse felt off
balance in the conversation. He was beginning to realize that the
recumbent visnat might actually be the one in control.
    Colvin did not flinch, but peered knowingly
at Darse. It was as though he had perceived the answer before Darse
had even spoken.
    “Sim,” Murphy repeated and swallowed
hard.
    “Sim,” whispered Spence. His bronzed face
had paled.
    “Does that mean something?” Darse asked.
    “We really have no more time to discuss it.”
Rook quickly began to stash items back into his ruck. “We’ve got to
get moving.”
    Brenol’s eyes widened at the sudden haste.
“Wait. Where?”
    Rook inhaled slowly, as if willing himself
calm. “We are visiting the maralane.”
    “But what do we do? Where should we go?”
protested Brenol.
    Rook glanced back to his companions.
Following some kind of silent communication, he spoke, but a
strange edginess continued to control his demeanor. “It is
difficult.” He pointed up the steep slope. He peered at the boy,
finally nodding. “If you wish, you may come.” Rook’s face was grim,
but his tone was genuine in invitation.
    Brenol and Darse looked at each other and
nodded their assent.
    Darse knew they had few alternatives. This
at least seemed safe, despite the strange reactions to his
lineage. They all brushed away any grass and returned to the path.
As they moved forward, Darse observed Colvin with a wary
appreciation: here was a creature who missed little.
    ~
    The path the visnati took was one that
curved up and aside from their earlier trail. The ascent was
demanding, but after some time, the visnati found their breath
again and began to tell the two about Massada.
    “The maralane have lived in the spring-lake
since the lands joined together in the beginning.”
    “When was the beginning?” queried
Brenol.
    Spence’s nose wrinkled. “They’re not likely
to tell us.”
    “You said something earlier about a place
called the lugazzi ? ”
    “You’re standing on it right now. Anything
that is neutral land is lugazzi. There is neutral land surrounding
Ziel and at the borderlines of every terrisdan. Think of it like
the rind of a fruit. The rind surrounds the fruit, but isn’t the
important part. So it is with the lugazzi.” He moved his arm around
in a strange gesture. “The lugazzi is usually several matroles
wide. It is the only space where the land does not see you,” Spence
answered.
    Brenol’s eyes widened. “The land sees?”
    Colvin nodded, his lips pursed tightly.
    “Where is the ocean?” Darse asked,
pondering.
    It was Rook’s turn to furrow his brow.
“Salt, right?”
    Darse nodded.
    “Well, we have a salt lake in the
southeast…but Ziel is our largest body of water nearby. I’ve heard
rumors, tales, of strange waters. Moving waters that roared. They
say they are out east in the frozen lands past the terrisdans.” He
glanced amusedly to his friends, seeming to not hold faith in such
things.
    Brenol had seen the sea once, but it was not
an experience he felt adept at framing with words. He merely
smiled. “What are they like? The maralane.”
    “Serious. Don’t come up much. Stay to
themselves and live down deep. Not interested in our world—the
‘upper banks’ or ‘upper world’ or whatever they’ve named us for the
season. No, not so keen on us. They are just…well, free.”
    “Then why do you go see them? How do you
know they’ll even come up?”
    Rook glanced to Colvin. “There’s been a
forging between our people. Colvin’s kin saved one of ‘em a long
while ago, and gratitude is enduring in their people.” He wrinkled
his forehead. “Or at least something like it.”
    “That’s really the only reason why they keep
coming up?” asked Darse.
    Spence