“Ahhhh.” Yuna gave a luxurious sigh as she slid into the bath. Her voice and the blissful expression on her face were so like an old woman’s that Sae burst out laughing.
Three days had passed since they’d reached the caves of the Echo Master. Upon arrival, Yuna had made a great fuss, insisting that she would only bathe with Van. Now, however, if she saw Sae in the bath, she slipped off her clothes and hopped in with her, climbing onto her lap and chattering away merrily. If Sae offered to give her a scrub, she would grab the cloth from her hand and announce huffily that she could do it herself, only to sidle up soon after, hoping that Sae would wash her. Sae smiled. The little girl was quite a handful.
Van and Sae had learned shortly after coming to the caves that Suohl was away treating someone in a village on the northwest side of the forest. Assenomi, relieved to see the two again, filled them in on what had happened after they left. When she mentioned that Tohma, concerned by their long absence, had come looking for them, Van’s face had clouded. Now that they knew Yuna had been kidnapped and Van had set off to rescue her, Tohma and his family were surely frantic with worry. Van had suggested they go to Oki first to reassure them. Assenomi, however, had advised that he and Sae wait a little longer. The Echo Master would return within four or five days, and if they left now, they would miss him. In the end, Van and Sae elected to wait.
Yuna seemed quite taken with the labyrinthine caves. Despite Sae’s warnings to stay out of the many tunnels, she often disappeared into them, only to reemerge much later from unexpected places. Sae worried whenever Yuna was out of their sight, but Van seemed unconcerned. He merely told Yuna to watch her step while she was exploring so that she didn’t fall into a hole.
“Aren’t you concerned about her?” Sae had asked him. “This is where she was kidnapped. And besides, there are dangerous spots down some of those passages.”
Van had grinned as he answered, “As long as we’re not too far away, I always know where she is. And that seems to be true for her as well. When Nakka took her, I sensed that she was in danger. I don’t feel anything like that right now, so there doesn’t seem to be much point in fretting.”
He was extremely easygoing, letting Yuna do pretty much as she pleased and rarely raising his voice. At the beginning of their journey, Yuna had clung to him constantly, demanding his attention, yet he’d never grown annoyed, even when she tugged his hand or pulled his hair. The pair reminded Sae of a bear and its cub with the little one crawling all over its sleeping mother, falling off and climbing up again, snuggling into her belly, or biting and tussling with her fur. Sae found Van’s tolerance strange. Did all fathers and daughters of the Toga Mountain people enjoy such a relationship? If so, the girls were fortunate. For daughters of the Molfah, their fathers were the strictest authorities. Fathers were considered responsible for their children’s behavior, and they shouldered the blame if their child erred.
Sae’s own father, Malji, had served as the clan leader for many years. He was the model of behavior to which all the Molfah aspired. Although a superb tracker and an exceptional spy, he was a dour man. She couldn’t remember seeing him smile or imagine any child tugging on his hand or climbing onto his lap. In fact, Sae had never seen any Molfah fathers place a child in their laps and play with them. Molfah women showered children with affection, as though to make up for this. While they didn’t spoil them, they greeted every child, not just their own, with smiles and embraces.
Sae recalled an evening during her journey with Van and Yuna when they’d made camp in the shade of a large hoba tree. Yuna had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on Van’s thigh. “She’s a lucky girl to have such an easygoing father,” Sae had remarked.
Van had remained silent for a long time, his eyes on Yuna’s sleeping face. Finally, he’d looked up with an equivocal smile. “I hope you’re right. I’ve never raised a girl before, so I don’t know how it’s done.” There was a bleakness in his eyes.
He’s never raised a girl. Has he raised a son, then? A chill had gripped Sae’s stomach as she remembered what this man used to be—the leader of the Lone Antlers, a band of men who’d lost their families. So…, she thought, averting her eyes. He must have lost his son.
“Oh! Look! A pwetty buttafly!”
Yuna’s voice wrenched Sae from her memories. Glancing up, she saw a butterfly perched on the edge of a hole that served as a steam vent. It was indeed beautiful. The afternoon sunlight caught its wings, which flapped lazily, as though to part the steam.
On stubby legs, Yuna trudged through the water toward the creature. Suddenly, she slipped. Sae jumped for her, reaching out to catch her, but as she scooped Yuna up, she lost her footing. Twisting her body to protect the child clasped in her arms, Sae fell into the pool with a huge splash. The spray momentarily blinded her. Luckily, she didn’t hit her head, but her left arm stung, and she winced. Crimson blood flowed from a shallow gash in her pale, water-softened flesh. She must have cut it on the edge of the bath.
Yuna sat stunned for a moment, robbed of speech. Then, wiping the water from her eyes and blinking rapidly, she turned to look at Sae. As she caught sight of the blood, tears filled her eyes. “Auntie Sae, you bleeding! Does it huht?” Her face crumpled, and she began to sob.