He smiled sheepishly. “You sure?”
“Believe me, I’m more than sure.”
Parrot stepped up between us. “Morning,” he mumbled, reaching a hand out to Abrienda, his horse, and she came over to take the berries he held.
“How’d your group bath go?” I asked Parrot.
“Fine.” He shrugged, obviously still not in a talking mood.
I sighed, starting to get annoyed with his quiet demeanor. If Quirk wasn’t here, I’d definitely say those exact words to Parrot. I mean, I know seeing Talon had brought back old memories, but didn’t Parrot trust me? Why wouldn’t he confide in me? That’s what family was for. I thought we had bonded back at the ranch.
Turning, I propped my back up against the wooden corral and idly surveyed the goings-on around the village. A good solid minute went by as I watched everyone work, and my mind became curious. “I’m very interested in finding out how things work around here.”
Professor Quirk hoisted himself up onto the corral, propping his boots on a low wooden barricade. “I’ve been here a week, and I’m just now figuring it all out. We’re on Huworo land, so everything that occurs here is based on their customs.”
I plucked a piece of hay from the bin and chewed on it. “Even though there are fifteen different tribal nations represented?”
Quirk nodded. “Out of respect they have to go by Huworo traditions.”
Parrot turned, too, joining us in looking at the village.
“When girls and boys turn fifteen, they are moved into one of the single-men or -women huts. They stay there until they’re married. Couples and families take up all the other huts. When a boy and girl get married, the whole village works together to build them their own private dwelling with a garden out back. The gardens”—Quirk motioned to them—“are maintained by wives and daughters. Meals, meetings, and festivities take place in the big circular hut in the middle.”
The professor pointed to the open-square structures where older women busied themselves cooking. “The women cooking are those who have reached the age of forty and never married or women whose husbands have died. After they get done cooking, you’ll see them sewing, scaling fish, doing artwork.”
“What do the men do around here?” I asked. It didn’t sound like they did much of anything.
“Hunt, make tools, build structures, attend meetings,” Quirk answered.
“This morning when we went to bathe, none of the girls and guys looked at each other.” I glanced up at him. “Why is that?”
“They’re considered unclean until after morning baths,” Quirk answered. “Huworo customs say unclean singles can’t lay eyes on each other.”
“Huh. Interesting. Where are the tribal chiefs staying?”
“Each chief was allowed to bring one representative with him.” Quirk hopped down from the corral. “They’re all staying in the ceremonial hut.”
Jaaci stepped from the big circular structure, caught sight of me, and smiled.
I returned her smile and waved. “That’s Jaaci,” I told Parrot and Professor Quirk.
Sidestepping the playing children, she laughed and made her way across the dirt to where the guys and I hung out at the corral. Coming to a stop right in front of me, she rubbed her belly.
“Lirjvc?”
“Hungry?” I nodded. “Definitely.” I turned to Parrot. “This is Flint,” I introduced him, using his alias. I pointed to Professor Quirk. “And Quirk.”
“F-lint,” she tried the name. “Ka-wirk.” Smiling softly, she bowed her head to each one.
Professor Quirk stepped forward to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Jaaci came out of her bow, looked at his hand, and then glanced at me, obviously at a loss. Guess they didn’t shake hands in her tribe. I stepped forward and shook his hand, showing her what he wanted. Understanding, she repeated my gesture.
She switched her attention to Parrot then. “F-lint,” she tried his name again, holding out her hand.
He managed a small smile as he returned her handshake.
Taking her hand back, Jaaci gestured over her shoulder. We followed her across the dirt and into the ceremonial hut.
A large circular table took up the center. On top of the table sat big steaming bowls and platters of fruit. Stacks of smaller pottery bowls and plates occupied the middle of the tabletop.
It smelled heavenly.
Situated in a U shape around the circular table sat all the tribal chiefs. I scanned their faces and zeroed in on Talon’s. Sitting on a short stool, he carried on a conversation with the chief beside him and didn’t even glance up at the entrance where we stood.
Behind the chiefs in the same U shape sat a row of men and behind them a row of younger boys. Children and women sat on straw cushions along the perimeter of the ceremonial hut. I caught sight of Jonathan and Guillermo in the row of men and smiled. Jonathan smiled back.
I noticed that a thick leather strap crossed Jonathan’s chest, with a pouch on the end. Since we were in charge of guarding the vase, I presumed the pouch held the vase.
Jaaci showed Parrot and Professor Quirk two empty stools in the row with the younger boys, and then led me to the back to sit with the women.
A few more families filtered into the hut, taking their places depending on their age and sex.
Quietly, I sat taking in the scene. This hut had been built the same way as the one I slept in last night, only a lot bigger. Openings high up in the thatched roof let in morning light and provided ventilation. I imagined they would close those somehow if it began raining. A long table stretched the length of one wall and held hammocks and personal items that I assumed belonged to the chiefs, since Professor Quirk said they slept in here.
For the most part, everyone spoke in a low tone with their neighbor. It put a sort of hum in the air. I estimated nearly fifty people filled the area. I caught another whiff of breakfast, and my stomach growled.
Jaaci looked over at me and laughed. And it occurred to me then that she wasn’t a part of this tribe either. Her people had died, she’d found the Mother Nature vase, and here we all were. I wished she spoke English so I could ask her what her customs were. Or, for that matter, I wished I spoke her language. But that would never happen. I had not one lingual bone in my body.
I was brought abruptly from my thoughts when the oldest chief shot to his feet and began yelling something, and the whole place fell silent. He stomped over to where the food was, scooped his hand into the steaming stew, and brought out a clumpy, dripping handful. With a very angry face, he shouted something in his language.
I looked around the hut, trying to figure out what was going on.
Another chief got to his feet and, with his hands behind his back, bowed to the angry chief. He said something in a very calm voice.
The angry chief slung the stew back into the bowl and stomped across the hut and straight out the door. His assistant got up and hurried after him.
I could not
wait
to ask Parrot what was going on.
The calm chief began chanting. Two teenage boys stood, and a woman along the back did, too. Together the four of them continued chanting. It put a calm aura throughout the hut.
I glanced at Parrot and saw him bow his head in reverence.
Once they finished and took their seats, everyone began talking again. In unison, all the women stood. Following their lead, I got to my feet, too. Some of them went to the big table in the center and began ladling stew from the big steaming bowls. They placed fruit onto the small plates and served various chiefs, men, younger guys, and children. Then they went back and got more stew and fruit, brought it back to where we women stood, and began eating.
For a minute there, I thought maybe they were going to serve me.
More women left our line and repeated what the others had done. I could only assume maybe they were serving their families.
Jaaci left our line on round three, motioning for me to follow. Copying what I’d seen the other women do, I ladled stew into bowls and piled fruit on plates. With a bowl in each hand I turned to the crowd and realized I’d caught the attention of quite a few people.
Not like everyone fell quiet to stare or anything, but definitely a dozen or more men and women were looking at me. Suddenly self-conscious, I glanced at Jonathan, and he motioned me over.
He took the food from me. “They’re staring at your blond hair,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about it, you’re doing fine.”
Guillermo took his food, too. “Some of the older men believe blond hair means you’ve been touched by the gods.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did you tell them in America most people think blond hair means you’re stupid?”
Guillermo laughed at that.
“What happened with that older chief?” I whispered.
“Now’s not the time,” Jonathan answered. “I’ll tell you later.”
With a nod, I headed back to the food and caught sight of Jaaci serving Parrot and the professor. I ladled stew into a bowl, piled fruit on a plate, and balancing both, I turned to take my seat and ran smack into Jaaci.
My stew went down the front of her dress and my fruit went flying through the air.
“Oh, my God!” I reached for Jaaci. “I’m so sorry.”
Someone shouted something, and I whipped my head to the left to see Talon standing. With a clenched jaw, he grabbed a couple pieces of my fruit off him and, staring at me, slung them to the floor.
I sucked in a breath.
Shouting something else, he took a step toward me, and simultaneously every one of my team members got to their feet.
Talon dragged his dark, menacing gaze off me and looked at each of my team members. Jonathan, Guillermo, Quirk, and finally Parrot.
A couple of quiet seconds ticked by.
Switching his gaze back to me, Talon slowly sat down, and in my peripheral vision I saw my team members take their seats, too.
Gradually, the entire hut began eating again.
Swallowing, my heart pounding, I glanced at Jonathan. He nodded for me to get some food.
Jaaci touched my arm and I turned to her. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
Smiling as if she understood me, she shook her head and waved me off. But I couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful dress that was messed up because of me.
She indicated the food, and we served ourselves. It could have been my imagination, but I swore I felt Talon’s glare boring a hole into my back.
I didn’t chance a look in his direction as I followed Jaaci back to our straw mats. We sat down and dug into the food.
I scooped a hunk of meat out of the stew and chomped down, loving the mild spicy, oniony taste. “What is this?” I motioned to my bowl.