Free The First Tribe by Candace Smith

with the stick. The blossom spewed a cloud of pollen and the woman drew back the wood and held it up. The blue dust began eating away at the bark, and she dropped it. She pointed to the flower and looked up at Sabra, shaking her head again.
    Sabra began to tremble. “Thank you. Oh… oh, Anali.”
    The Fista walked in front of them and turned to beckon them to follow her. “I thought she didn’t like you,” Anali whispered.
    “So did I.” Sabra glanced back at the dangerously beautiful flower. She looked down at the twig, and saw that it had almost disappeared. “Thank goodness she got over whatever was bothering her.” She followed the Fista around the clearing. The woman held plants, teaching them which ones were safe. There were two more in the ‘do not touch’ category.
    At the edge of the clearing there stood one of the branchless trees. The Fista grinned, and in her hoarse voice she said, “Wait.”
    Anali and Sabra watched in amazement, as the woman gripped the trunk with her thick arms. Her clawed feet dug into the bark and she began to climb. She was quick about it, too. When she got to the broad leaves at the top, she climbed up and disappeared. A moment later, her legs reappeared and she scuttled back to the ground. She had a large purple fruit in her mouth, held by her fangs. “Good. Taste good,” she grinned.
    The Fista banged it on a rock and the skin burst open. She held out a bite for Sabra. It had a delicious flavor that seemed to be a blend of many different fruits, and it alternated between sweet and a bit tart. “This is wonderful,” she smiled.
    The Fista handed Anali a bite, and then took one herself. “Bilap,” she announced. She pointed at the fruit. “Bilap.”
    “It’s delicious,” Sabra said. She stared at the top of the tree. “I don’t imagine I’ll get to try it too often.”
    The words no sooner left her lips than the Fista was climbing again. She returned with two smaller fruits and handed one to each of them. Sabra thanked her again, and asked, “You aren’t mad at me any more?”
    The Fista gave a mysterious smile. “Dasheen come to me many times this week.” With that, she turned and shuffled back towards the other workers.
    “What do you suppose she meant by that?” Sabra asked.
    Anali shrugged and looked up at the fronds of the tree, thirty feet over their heads. “I don’t know, but keep on her good side. We’ll never be able to climb one of these trees.”
    Evening meal was held around the central fire. Most of the captives were already seated when Sabra heard Dasheen call out to her. She sat by his side and looked around the circle at her friends. There was a resigned look on their faces, with the exception of Seela. Dasheen had already lifted the pera skin to cover her eyes when she reached out and stilled his hand. At first, Dasheen thought she was going to try to eat without it, but then he followed her stare.
    Seela was kneeling with her back very straight. Even from across the fire Sabra could see her lips moving as she recited ritual words. She glanced at Palla who had a slight look of disgust on her face. Anali had the same uneasy, astonished expression Sabra wore. When the Kirabi held the blindfold out, Seela leaned forward as if she were sacrificing her eyesight to permanent blindness instead of merely having them covered in order to be able to eat. Sabra had not realized what a fanatic the girl had become.
    After dinner, Anali and Sabra sought Palla. “Why didn’t she join the daughters of the Mother of Life?” Anali asked.
    Palla replied, “Even the daughters would not put on such a display. After so many times of wearing the pera skin, she has built it into some ridiculous ritual. I think she is trying to atone for not sacrificing herself before she was captured.” Palla looked over at Anali who was still waiting for an answer to her question. “Seela could not join the daughters because she let Tarsa touch her before they were joined. I