He had promised to accompany her to collect some of the plants that grew further inland from the edge of the escarpment, plants that she apparently used in her treatments and remedies. He wanted to learn as much as he could now. He needed to understand the Atavist way of life as best he could in the limited time available to him if he was going to carry out his plan. There were too many dependencies right now, but at least he had a way forward. Going with Alise as she went about her errands would allow him to observe yet another aspect of their life and give him convenient opportunity to ask the hundreds of questions that kept tumbling through his head. He had to sort them out, prioritize them and talking to her helped that process.
"Come, Sandon," she said, leading off, the hand-woven basket she carried held in the crook of her arm.
"Where are we going?" asked Sandon.
She answered without breaking stride or turning around. "Up behind the hills there grows a profusion of plants. If the Prophet wills it, we will find what we need."
Her stride was quick and sure, and Sandon had to hurry to catch up. They moved through clusters of tents, the groups of Atavists performing various tasks. Everywhere, still, despite the unhurried pace of the adult population, the children ran between the tents and the tether lines. Sandon shook his head. Did the onset of puberty release some special chemical into Atavist blood to slow them down? There was certainly no restraint shown in the younger members of their numerous family. Nor a great deal of discipline as far as he was able to observe. Perhaps it was discipline by example that brought such order and unhurried calm.
"Is there something special going on, Alise?" he asked, having finally matched her pace. "There seems to be more activity than usual."
She didn't answer; she didn't break stride.
"Alise?"
"What is it, Sandon?" Her attention was fixed on the landscape stretching out and upward from the camp's edges.
"Is something happening that I should know about?" Sometimes it was exasperating trying to extract the merest shred of information. Patience. He had to be patient.
"We are leaving soon, if that is what you mean."
"Leaving?" He hadn't planned on that. Not yet. "Where?" he said. "Yes, yes, I know." He echoed her words even as she spoke them. "Where the Prophet wills it."
He sighed. She seemed not to notice.
"Well there must be someone who knows where you're going."
She gave a slight shrug. "Yes, Badrae, some of the other Elders. Of course they know, but then they know better what the Prophet wills."
Then he would have to find out, if he could ever track down Badrae long enough to ask him the question. His plans hinged on knowing where they were going to be and when. As he thought about this, he lapsed into silence. Without his questioning, Alise fell silent too, and then after a couple minutes more walking, pointed over toward a slight sandy rise further up the slope. They headed in that direction, and as they walked, Alise started to hum a low tune. Sandon glanced up briefly, trying to see if the tune was anything he might recognize. It was a slow, sweet melody, but nothing he was familiar with. There was something almost ceremonial about it.
As they crested the low rise, the landscape became shrubby, scattered with small stunted bushes, hard and gnarled against the seasonal winds and the poor, sandy ground. They stretched out as far as he could see, finally disappearing behind another rise further up the slope. While he had stood there looking, Alise was already ten paces ahead of him. He grunted and moved to catch up.
"Where are you leading us, Alise? There hardly looks anything usable here."
"No, not yet. Up further. That's where I usually find the plants we seek, but they only appear in this time close to Storm Season. It is important to be here at this time for that reason. Normally, there are fewer in the seasonal camp, but it is good to be here."
"Uh-huh." He nodded. "And for any other reason."
