Tribulation

August was to meet us at the tarn, the birds still there, dark shapes in wait.

Remorse isn’t a pleasant emotion to deal with. But guilt, that is worse. I wouldn't blame August, if he indeed made it back, if he simply dropped me off at the first place they landed. Or.. if he didn't take me back at all. I out at the path expecting him to return on. Expected? Prayed. Hoped. Promises were made, bargains sought, if only he came back.. safely.

Darkness started to wane into a dreary gray, light filtered by most of the leaves that canopied above us. He’d been gone for a long time. Too long, and my fear of his not returning was building.

Finally, the leaves moved and two boys came into our view. Silas snagged my arm and pulled me closer to him while the boys spoke in their native language and pointed to me. Or, rather, my hair. None of us understood, August had always been the interpreter, but when he lifted the pouch that held my cards, I knew.

Red and wild and long, my hair had never been cut. Hair for cards. In her eyes, that was more than a fair trade. I had pointed towards the pouch, then offered August’s name, looking behind them to see if he was perhaps on his way. He was not. Silas released my arm from the hold he taken when the boys had approached, but with my pull, he freed me, then handed me the knife. Dark hands dipped inside the pouch, one card retrieved, then dropped on the ground in front of me.

The hair was twisted and looped around my hand and pulled forward. I bent my head, took the knife in my opposite hand and began to saw it at the base of my neck. I could feel the weight lessen with every cut until finally I held the long red pony tail out for the boys to take. With no fuss at all, the hair was traded for cards and Silas immediately got his knife back.

Still no August. I had expected to find a note inside the pouch that had been dropped on the ground as soon as my hair had been handed over. There was nothing. Well, not nothing exactly, one card was missing. The Four of Wands, the card of his future.

I was beginning to panic. Silas said that he had chosen not to come back, or that he was dead. I did not, could not believe that. The card removed .. disconnection. That was me. It had not been him at all. And now I had sent him into the mouth of madness and for what?

I told him that there would be a failure to meet the deadline. It wasn't a deadline of his finding a cure. That's what he thought I meant and that's why he was so.. angry at me. But that wasn't it at all. Problems and flaws come to the surface. This was definitely a problem. A big problem, and I knew we had to go and get him. Somewhere in the labyrinth of jumbled thinking I thought I might be able to trade myself for him, but Tukuli had never wanted me, and he had always wanted August.

And I had delivered him.

It was the longest tarn ride of my life. I did not want to leave him, but I knew I could not waste precious time arguing. They had would prepare and go back for him, because despite what I had done, they would never leave him. They had been with him through too much.

I knew he was alive. How would he have removed the card otherwise? Only he would have known to take that particular card, would have known its meaning.

It was quiet in the air. Too quiet, with only the occasional sound coming from one of the birds. With the lid latched and locked, I couldn't even peek out, not that either guard probably wanted to look at me right now, not the woman who had betrayed the employer they were so fond of. Not the cropped hair, another sign of treachery, or the small squares of rence that were now, laying in my lap, wrapped in leather. Ahns passed, and with each tick of time, I grew more fretful. Would they allow me to go back with them when they tried to rescue him? I wasn’t sure, I wasn’t trusted.

I had done this.. to him and he'd probably never want me again. Cramped from staying so long in one position, I crawled to the wall of the basket, trying to look out between the weaves to see if we were close to population. The red curls, which were now actual.. curls instead of the normalcy of frizzy mane, bobbed around my cheeks. "I'm sorry August." Whispered to nothing save the
wind.