Day Two

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As usual, Zhaen was the first one up, waking well before the sun rose. She began her mornings as she had every other, by walking east until she was out of sight of the others. Once she was alone, the dalhari began her daily rituals. The slow, controlled movements and whispered words brought her closer to the elements she so loved, letting them flow through her without resistance. She found these few moments by herself each day so calming that she never missed them, regardless of where she was.

By the time she returned, Marni was up and building a fire. The f’lh waved a greeting at her, keeping silent in deference to the others who were still sleeping. The two musicians sat next to the fire and waited for the sun and their companions to rise.

The first thing Dawn noticed when she woke up was that she was sore. Every muscle in her body ached, like she’d been put through a meat grinder. The next thing she noticed was that she felt, well, damp, kind of like how she felt when she’d gone on that camping trip in the fifth grade. It was an icky feeling, like she’d gone to sleep wrapped in a wet towel. Maybe she’d left a window open.

She realized where she was as soon as she opened her eyes. Instead of her bedroom walls, Dawn found herself facing a pile of brush and grass. Well, that certainly explained why she felt like she did. She was sleeping outside, directly on the ground. Soon after that, memories of the day before rushed back. Oh, yeah! She was in that other dimension, looking for Xander. She sat up quickly, looking around. The morning light was dim but quickly brightening and she saw the darker dalhari, Zhaen, and Marni sitting by the fire, chewing on yimkia.

Marni watched Dawn wake up and orient herself. The girl was going to have to learn to be more aware—particularly if she planned on wandering around here. While it was an orth region, and usually quite safe for humans, t’kth-vaali occasionally ventured in. Also, there was a fairly large number of f’lh near the coast, drawn there by trade opportunities. Besides the threat of the t’kth-vaali, it simply wasn’t a good idea to be so trusting of the environment. While this part of the land was near enough to the ocean to be somewhat hospitable, further inland the scrubby trees and grasses gave way to hard ground and harsh conditions.

Dawn was startled by the sudden appearance of a raw yimkia in her lap. She picked up the tuber gingerly, guessing that it was breakfast. Marni watched her with a smirk on her face, practically daring her to refuse the food. Well, she did have granola bars, but she’d better save them for later. After wiping the food on her sleeve, she bit in and began to gnaw on her meal. It wasn’t so bad if she didn’t focus on it too much—kind of like cafeteria food.

Duens and Prall rose a few minutes later. Unlike Dawn, they didn’t turn their noses up at their breakfast, but rather consumed it quickly and in good humor. The girl was surprised to find the camp packed and the fire banked without a single word spoken between anyone. She rushed to catch up, shoving her blankets in her pack and shouldering it. She wished she’d had a moment to change clothes, but it didn’t look like anyone else had either, so she didn’t bother complaining.

Zhaen grinned at Duens when Dawn started speaking just a few minutes after they’d begun walking again. “Do you all not have any horses or something to ride? Or a car, or a wagon? Do you walk everywhere?”

Marni grimaced. She loved their collective habit of staying silent for the first hours of the morning. It wasn’t that they weren’t awake or fully aware. They just liked the quiet. It appeared as though they would have to learn to appreciate noise again. Well, they were musicians. Noise was their trade. “Yes, there are things to ride. No, we don’t have any, because they’re expensive and hard to transport over water,” Marni explained.

Dawn scrunched her face. “Transport over water?”

“Except for Prall, all of us are from across the sea,” Marni said. “Apprentices don’t get paid a lot, so we can’t just buy ifnan whenever we want.”

“Oh,” Dawn said. “Why is everybody so quiet?”

“We’re thinking,” Duens said grumpily. He really didn’t like to talk in the mornings.

Dawn rolled her eyes. “You guys are as bad as Buffy is before her first cup of coffee.”

Zhaen looked over at Duens in confusion, and then shrugged. Different dimension, different world. None of them had any idea what coffee was.

“So how far are we from Baign?”

“If we don’t go too slowly, we should reach the hold by nightfall,” Marni said gruffly. She really, really wished Dawn would be quiet for a little while.

Dawn did indeed fall silent, but it wasn’t because Marni wanted her to. She had so many questions and she didn’t know which one she wanted answered first. “So, what kind of music do you play?”

Prall grinned when Marni groaned. “Different kinds,” The orth said. “Each of us apprenticed in our home region, so we’re best at our own type of music. But we play together, so we sort of combine them.”

Dawn nodded eagerly. “Like rap-metal?”

Duens looked at her oddly. “Rap-metal?”

“Oh, I guess that’s a ‘my dimension’ sort of thing. Do you sing, too?” Dawn inquired.

Zhaen fielded this one. “Some of us do, some don’t. It depends on what we’re performing and how we were trained.”

“Do you sing?” Dawn asked the black dalhari.

“Occasionally,” She replied.

“What about you all?” Dawn asked the others.

“Sometimes,” Prall replied.

“When nobody else will,” Duens muttered.

“Female f’lh don’t sing,” Marni said sharply.

“Why not?” Dawn asked. “What’s wrong with women singing? My favorite artists are female. Well, except for the Backstreet Boys.”

Marni frowned. “We just don’t.”

“Each species has its own way of doing things, Dawn,” Prall said, mindful that she wasn’t from this dimension, had obviously never seen any of their kinds before, and was a precocious, curious person.

“Oh. Like when some Muslim women wear burqas?” Dawn said. “Never mind. It’s another thing from over there,” She muttered, waving her hand to one side. “So do you sing love songs?”

Duens stifled a laugh. Love songs, indeed. “Only when we can’t avoid it.”

“Why not?” Dawn inquired. “I like love songs.”

“Most musicians are bards, trained for specific types of performance, like chronicling history or singing formal celebrations and lamentations,” Zhaen said.

“Or teaching children,” Prall added. “Most orth bards instruct in schools.”

“F’lh bards are responsible for keeping their holds happy,” Marni replied. “Especially during winter.”

“Oh. That’s a lot different than where I’m from. Musicians sing and make a lot of money, but it’s for entertainment, although I guess they do all of those things to, if they want to,” Dawn said. “So what are you going to do in Baign?”

“Whatever the residents want,” Prall said back to her.

Dawn scrunched her face up. “If I can ask, why are you all traveling? I mean, I get that you’re musicians, and that you’re out doing your training, but it doesn’t sound like these bard people actually travel a lot. Their jobs seem to be pretty much at-home type things.”

“Some do, some don’t. There are a lot of ways to complete our training; traveling is one of them. Most don’t choose it, though,” Duens said.

“Why not?” Dawn asked. Traveling around sounded like fun, although she would find a way to not do the walking bit.

“Because it takes a long time and you stay very hungry for the duration,” Marni bit out. She’d resigned herself to not getting any peace and quiet, but she wasn’t happy about it.

“Geez, PMS much?” Dawn muttered. Edging closer to the dalhari, she resumed her questioning. “Are there any other kinds of people around here besides you all?”

Prall frowned. “Well, besides us and you, there are siv, t’kth-vaali, maith, gupwur and pakra.”

“Wow. That’s a lot! What are they like?” Dawn asked.

Marni growled and dropped back to walk several paces behind. This was going to be an excruciatingly long day.

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Dawn got tired of talking around midday and fell silent, fulfilling her curiosity by studying the scenery. It was kind of dry around here, with lots of sandy, gritty soil and scruffy plants. It reminded her of parts of Southern California. She felt kind of grungy, but they hadn’t passed anything approximating water so far, so she couldn’t wash up. It had been cloudy all of yesterday and most of this morning, but the sun was coming out. Unfortunately she had forgotten to pack a hat, so she was worried that she might get sunburn.

They stopped for lunch just as the last clouds faded away. Dawn positioned herself under the shadiest tree she could find, already feeling her skin tighten a little. If she didn’t think of something, she was going to turn into a lobster.

“You can sit with us, you know,” Prall said to the girl, who had secluded herself under a low-hanging tree.

Dawn smiled weakly. “I know, but the sun’s getting to my skin,” She replied.

Marni scowled in confusion, but Prall understood what she was talking about. He was the only other one of their group who was sensitive to sunlight like a human was, and he could stand it much longer than she. “I know just what you need,” He said, opening the huge pack he carried. A few minutes of rummaging later, he pulled out a rolled-up piece of fabric. Shaking it out, he presented Dawn with a weird, floppy hat-type thing. She looked at it funny, trying to figure out how to put it on.

“Here,” Prall said, taking it back. First, he wrapped one long trailing end around her neck, covering her pale skin in the gauzy material. Then he plopped the crown on her head and mashed it on top, so that it sort of drooped around her head. It was way too big, so he untied a tie on the back and cinched it up until it was snug. Then he took a second trailing end and wrapped it under her jaw and around the crown a couple of times before knotting it and leaving the edges trailing behind. The wide, soft brim was almost the width of her shoulders and provided as much protection as an umbrella. She was sure she looked absolutely ridiculous. Still, it protected her skin very well, so she couldn’t complain.

“Thanks, Prall,” Dawn said, rejoining the group. Duens snorted at her appearance, but said nothing. Zhaen simply handed her lunch and smiled. Marni was still ignoring her.

Dawn wasn’t stupid, so she knew that all her questions bothered her companions. For that reason, she decided to hold her tongue at least until they reached Baign—unless she needed to run behind the trees, of course. The only problem with that decision was that less than half an hour after they started back on the road, thoughts began to plague her.

She immediately pushed aside the worry that she might have made a mistake in coming here. Xander had to be found, and that was that. There was always magic, and witches, so getting the two of them home wouldn’t be a problem. Dawn was worried about where Xander was, however. The musicians had told her a great many things about the species living in this world. Not all of them were very friendly, and she really hoped that Xander hadn’t run into any of the meaner ones. From the way they were described, the t’kth-vaali and the maith were just plain nasty, and the gupwur weren’t much better. Then again, she only had their word to go on, and she knew all about bias. Her sister didn’t like anything that wasn’t human, 42 nice normal chromosomes and a heartbeat, thank you very much.

The fact was, for some reason she had had the crazy idea that she’d just appear right next to Xander, who would be waiting for someone to come get him. She’d show up, much more mature than her age would indicate, and get him home. He’d be appropriately grateful. Looking back on it, even she thought it sounded cheesy. But hey, I girl can dream, can’t she?

By the time they got within sight of Baign, they were all tired, hungry and dying for a break. Prall took the lead, easily conversing with the holding guards. Dawn gaped at all the giants walking around. Yeah, Prall was pretty tall, even for an orth, but there were so many of them! She felt like Gulliver all of a sudden.

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Once they’d passed muster at the gates, Prall led them down the wide main street, past an almost obsessively orderly series of cross streets. Dawn had never seen so many perfectly right angles or square buildings in her life. It was like walking into a world made of building blocks or something. The weary group pulled to a halt in front of a plain-looking inn. Dawn couldn’t read the sign, since it was written in some foreign alphabet.

Once they were inside, Dawn blinked to adjust her eyes. It was a lot less bright in the building, since there weren’t very many windows to let in the dying sunlight. Prall and Marni stepped forward, immediately beginning some sort of discussion/argument with what looked like a bartender. Dawn wasn’t sure what they were saying, since it was all in the same language Prall had been speaking ever since they’d gotten to the hold. Duens had mentioned that each species had its own language, as well as many dialects, but that most spoke at least some of the ‘trade tongue’ that humans spoke as a primary language.

Since Dawn couldn’t follow the conversation, she looked around the inn instead. This main room was a restaurant of sorts, with a few bored-looking customers here and there. The entire place was incredibly dusty, just like the land was. Dawn resisted the urge to sneeze, pressing her nose with her hand to hold it back.

Eventually the loud talking ceased and Duens motioned for her to sit at one of the tables. “What’s going on?” She whispered to him.

“Dinner,” He whispered back, like it was a big secret. She giggled and relaxed a little. That had been an awfully long conversation just to get dinner. A couple of minutes later, the bartender-guy brought out big bowls of what looked like stew. He set them down in front of her, Prall and Marni. A moment later he returned with one huge bowl of raw vegetables, placing it between Duens and Zhaen.

“That’s all you’re getting?” Dawn asked incredulously. Salad, after all that walking?

Zhaen shrugged. “The only other thing he’s got is hif shwir,” She said.

“Oh. You don’t like it?” Dawn asked, figuring that the stew was this ‘hif shwir.’

“It’s got meat in it,” The dalhari replied, shrugging.

“Oh,” Dawn said. Well then, she guessed that it was rabbit food for them tonight.

The stew stuff wasn’t bad, although the meat was a bit tough and the spices tasted funny, like the curry she had once at an Indian restaurant. She couldn’t eat but about a quarter of the bowl, since it was obviously meant for someone of Prall’s stature. Still, she thought she’d done remarkably well—that was almost twice what she usually ate!

“Is there any water?” Dawn asked quietly as the others were finishing up.

“In the room,” Duens murmured around a bite of some sort of leafy vegetable.

“Oh. We have rooms? Cool!” Dawn said happily.

“Room,” Marni corrected. “We share.”

Dawn looked up at the f’lh. Hey, sharing was fine with her, especially since she didn’t have anything to pay these people with. That made her feel guilty, and she wondered how she was going to make it up to them. She’d figure something out, eventually.

Finally the others finished and got up from the table. Dawn followed, not knowing where they were going or what they were doing, but hoping it involved a bath and a bed, in that order. Sure enough, Zhaen pointed out what room they were in, and then showed Dawn where the bathing facilities were. They had running water, but that was about it. It took her a while to learn to work the tub and the latrine, but she got it down and managed to bathe to her satisfaction. It felt great to be clean and not have all that dirt on her. She looked over at her filthy clothes. Considering now primitive this world seemed to be—no electricity or anything, she figured that there wouldn’t be washers either. Now that she had bathed, she was wearing most of the spare clothes she’d brought. Maybe it would be a good idea to wash the ones she’d taken off.

After she finally got the worst of the dirt out of her clothes and had wrung them as dry as she could get them, Dawn had a new appreciation for anyone who didn’t have the wonder that was a washing machine. Hand laundering sucked big time. Finally satisfied with her grooming and cleaning efforts, Dawn gathered her damp clothes and went back to the room.

When she opened the door, she found herself confronted with a surprisingly large space. Then again, everything here was big—it was all meant for Prall-sized people. The bed could have easily held all of them, but the musicians were scattered around the room, as far apart as possible. They were all holding instruments of some type—the first time Dawn had actually seen one uncovered. While traveling, they kept them carefully protected from dirt and wear.

Zhaen looked up when Dawn came in and set down a weird-looking string instrument. Nodding briefly, the dalhari grabbed her pack and left, probably to bathe. Dawn looked around for a place to put her clothes, since most of the surfaces looked covered.

“Put them there,” Marni said, gesturing toward a low bar at the foot of the bed. Dawn hung her jeans, shirt and socks over the bar, keeping her undergarments aside. They could just dry next to her pack, where nobody could see them. She spotted a pitcher of water at the edge of one table and poured herself a mug, followed shortly by another. She was a bit dehydrated from walking all day.

Once she’d found a place for everything, Dawn took up the seat that Zhaen had abandoned and looked over the instrument. It was sort of like a guitar, but not really. It had lots of strings, arranged in irregularly spaced intervals. “What is that?” She asked to no one in particular.

“It’s a den-liow,” Duens replied. Dawn nodded and looked more closely, daring to touch the strings. She had a couple of friends who played the guitar, but they were all maniacally possessive of their instruments and didn’t like for her to touch them.

When she ran her finger across a string, she jumped back. A high, sharp note rang out, piercing the air. “Sorry,” She said, wincing. Nobody seemed to mind, however, so she returned to her looking. The instrument looked old and was scratched up and dinged everywhere. Considering how careful they all were while carrying the instruments around, Dawn could only wonder how old the thing really was.

After while she got bored with looking at Zhaen’s instrument and moved over to look at what Duens had. It was easier to identify his, because it was obviously some sort of flute. Actually, it reminded Dawn of a recorder, but longer and narrower, with a lot more holes. He was rubbing some sort of oil into the surface, polishing it with a soft cloth. “Flute?”

Duens looked up. “Cyar’val.”

She watched him for a few minutes. Shortly thereafter, Zhaen returned and Marni and Prall left; the f’lh for the bathing room and Prall to ask around about possibilities within the hold.

Zhaen set her pack aside and pulled back the blanket on the bed. “Tired, Dawn?”

Dawn nodded and yawned, since the question made her even sleepier. Zhaen indicated that she should climb in. Once there, the dalhari followed her, pushing her back until she was right up against the wall. Zhaen sat up in bed for a few minutes, running her hands through her short, spiky and still-damp hair. Dawn thought it was funny how Zhaen had really short hair, but Duens' was so long he could braid it all over the place, like a girl. Soon, though, she began to nod off, exhausted by walking so many miles at once.

When Duens finished cleaning his cyar’val, he walked over to the bed, standing at the foot. “What are we going to do with her now?” The quartet had argued about it while Dawn had been in the shower, but hadn’t reached a consensus. Marni wanted to leave her with the humans that lived in part of the hold, as did Prall. They both argued that with the large number of strong orth households in the hold, she would be quite safe, as long as they found one to take her in and claim her. That way even if she lived with other humans, she’d be protected. Duens and Zhaen disagreed, saying that the girl wasn’t here to settle down, but to look for her friend. Besides, they argued, not even Prall and Marni liked Baign one bit—it was dusty and dirty, and over all pretty depressing.

So no decision had been made regarding Dawn’s future with them. Hells, they couldn’t even decide whether to leave her here or take her with them when they went to perform.

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