Tarashana by Rachel Neumeier (little red riding hood ebook TXT) 📕

skies become especially clear on that journey. “Some days more,” I said, judging the sky and the mountains. “But not many.”

“Five,” Bara said. “Four.”

“Something near that,” I agreed.

By this time anyone could see that we rode toward very great mountains. The two tallest stood close together, their peaks raking into the sky, with the lesser mountains stretching away to the east and the west. Ice glittered like glass along the highest peak. Where there was less ice, the stone was gray, shading to pink where the sunlight struck it and to lavender in the shadows.

I said to Aras, “You see how the those mountains seem rooted one directly beside the other? They actually stand so far apart it is more than a full day’s ride to travel from one to the other across the valley that lies between them. The western mountain is Talal Soka. The eastern mountain is called Talal Somara. The tombs of the Gara people are set into the stone of Talal Soka. Those of our people who have gone into the land of the shades, the taiGara, may come there to look out upon our lands and upon those of their people who still dwell in the land of the living.” I glanced at Suyet. “The names of the mountains are old. A poet might know what they mean.”

“Yes,” he said. “I didn’t know you had another name for your dead, Ryo!”

I nodded. “We are all Gara people. All these mountains send their roots down into the land of the shades, while their highest peaks brush the vault of the heavens. We think this the best place to set our tombs.”

Aras was gazing up at the eastern mountain. “No wonder you want the skulls of your dead returned to you. I knew you set them in tombs, but not ... I should have understood this better than I did, I think.” He glanced at me. “How long have your people held this land, Ryo?”

“You would have to ask a poet to know the span of years. So long that inGara and inGeiro were still one people when we came here. The highest tombs belong to both peoples.”

For a moment there was a respectful silence as everyone looked up at the mountains.

We did not see the two great mountains draw apart that day, nor the day after that, but by the afternoon of the next day, though the valley itself was not yet plain to the eye, anyone could see there was space between the feet of the mountains. The day after that, we came to the marshy lands that surround the southern tip of the lake.

“We should leave you here, Ryo,” Bara said to me. “I should go to the inGeiro camp, to tell everyone what has been happening. But I will make that ride alone if Rakasa prefers to accompany you.”

Rakasa nodded earnestly. “I think this might be best, Ryo.”

He meant that he would support me against my father’s disapproval, should my father be so angry that I needed that support. I bowed my head. “Thank you,” I answered. “I am grateful for your generous offer. But I think I should answer my father myself, Rakasa.”

He looked at me for a moment longer. Finally he said, “Very well! Please tell your mother that my mother will probably ride around the lake to visit. Many inGeiro will probably come to visit—certainly I will, unless my father forbids me! I want very much to know what Aras discovers regarding the avila woman!”

“Yes,” I agreed, and he and Bara reined to the side and rode away toward the eastern bank of the lake. I hoped I had not made a mistake in telling Rakasa to go with his partner rather than asking him to stay by me.

The morning after that, we finally came to the lake itself.

“Today,” I said, gazing along the long sweep of blue water. The lake stretched far north, much farther than the eye could see, to the cliffs near the pass, where the waterfalls came down. Geese floated out on the water and small birds fluttered in the sedges along the bank. There was no ice at all in this season, even where the water was most shallow. “We will come to my mother’s camp today.”

Then I thought of something else that perhaps I should say. I looked at Geras, whose taksu was better now, but not as good as everyone else’s. “When we go among my people, it would be better if everyone speaks only taksu. We say that strangers should not whisper. This is even more true for you than for Ugaro of a different tribe.”

“Got it,” Geras told me in darau, and added in taksu, “I understand this.”

The phrase was right, and his accent was better than it had been. I nodded to him, signaling to everyone that we should ride on. As we rode, I thought of other things I should explain. I said, “When we come to my mother’s camp, my father will probably come to meet us. Everyone will kneel to show proper respect.” I remembered to add, “Not Lalani. A woman seldom kneels. Everyone else must. I will greet my father first. Then Aras will greet him. Aras, you will bring your people forward and make them known to my father. Geras, Suyet, my father may not speak to you. If he does not, it would be better if you do not speak to him.” I finished firmly, “When he asks about Tano, leave that for me to answer.” I gave Aras the sternest look of which I was capable.

“I’ll try to stay out of it,” he said blandly.

That was clearly the best answer he would give. Leaving that topic, I turned to Lalani. “For you, everything will be easy. My mother will welcome you and everyone will want to be friendly.”

“You seem really