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PART TWO: ECHO

Martin gazed over the cliff southward. An antarctic wind stung his cheeks as leaned against the stone fence toward the water that crashed against the smooth-worn cliffs well over a hundred meters below him. The white spray battering against the gray slate below him encapsulated, in some small way, the tumult the rogue felt on a somatic, visceral level. In the distance, a glacier stretched for unfathomable miles, surrounded by smaller ice floes like ants meandering around a frozen hill. The first steps Martin and Namo had taken on Echo, or Tuu'snokopse in Namo's tongue, had been breathtaking. Breathtaking both in the sense that the vista was unparalleled as well as in the sense that the gelid air stung his lungs and sinuses with every inhale. Martin was grateful for the clothing he had been provided by Chief Nino'opanaat of Uat'sn, even if he still felt that the hard-nosed faun had concealed an ulterior motive for assisting him and Namo.

His companion stood beside him, leaning with him over the stone masonry rail that had been constructed as a part of the commemorative overlook that marked the boundary between the continents of Sinoe, where Martin had lived his entire life, and Echo, the sprawling landmass wherein lied his master's last known whereabouts. Namo stared at the etched memorial plaque, as if staring at the engraved runes for long enough would reveal their cryptic meaning.

Martin noticed her subtle shift against his shoulder and turned his head to see the faun woman scrutinizing the etched metal. He sidled around her to get a better look: “It reads:

“'This natural bridge marks the boundary between Echo and Sinoe, first crossed by Dr. Aleksandros Perras and his team of explorers in year 37 Post Cataclysm. Dr. Perras's exploration crew would go on to found Watson, the first permanent settlement in Sinoe, to assist with educating and providing aid to the local fauns.'"

Namo took a few seconds to reflect on the words written on the plaque before uttering a simple “hm", quiet enough to nearly be lost amidst the driving wind coursing against their faces from the southern cliff. Nevertheless, Martin could tell that the typically loquacious woman she wasn't letting on everything she felt—something Martin felt had become a pattern over the past several days since they had encountered the faun in the forest east of Uajee.

“Something on your mind?" Martin asked, in an effort to encourage the botanist to open up.

Namo chewed on her lip for several pensive moments, as if calculating how to best express her thoughts. “I just—This Aleks-whatever guy couldn't'a been the first person to cross this bridge. I know for a fact Akepmuu were crossing it long before you Amonuunkep were. The old songs like 'Muu'snoko'o and the giant lizard-bird', and the founding of Josuunajee—both of those things happened a long, long time before your people got here, and Akepmuu crossed over from Sinoe in both of those stories. I'm sure there's more stuff I'm forgettin', too!" She scratched her head as if to punctuate her assertion.

Martin acknowledged that the woman had a point. Originating on Penelopeia was a fact that no human could boast, even if some he had known some humans back in Vernon who claimed they had lived on the planet long enough to claim to be so. Even those who had managed to trace their lineage to the initial scientific expeditions that had settled on the planet could not trump Kempuun indigineity. “I suppose that is a bit inaccurate of the plaque—but I'm guessing it was made for humans, not fauns." He shrugged noncommittally.

Namo seemed to ignore her companion's half-baked justification. “And the bit about 'educatin'' Akepmuu? Like we needed the help of humans? We didn't need no help before the Amonuunkep came along—we got along just fine on our own." The agitation in her voice was unlike the jovial woman he had come to care deeply for. She clenched her fists before relaxing them with a sharp exhale. “I'm sorry, Maa'ko. I'm not mad at ya or nothin'. It just feels like I'm being talked down to by a fancy rock."

Namo's minor outburst may have been a reflection of the stress imposed on the pair over the past few days, where subsequent to their confrontation with the faun in the forest between the human town of Espiritu and the Kepmuun town of Uajee, they had managed to sneak into Espiritu. However, to their dismay, they found that the local populace was shoring up their defenses against raids from the nearby faun settlement of Uajee, which the travelers had narrowly skirted after encountering the faun goliath that had nearly spelled their untimely demise. The whole altercation between the two settlements didn't sit right with the pair, especially Namo, after hearing from the humans that the fauns were kidnapping their children in the night.

The travelers had even attempted to defuse the situation, but the word of two strangers held little weight against the pattern of abduction that had transpired in the village over the past several months. Rather than overstay their welcome, the pair had made a quick stop in an inn that night, refreshed their supplies the next morning, and continued on their way as the human raiding party made its way into the village.

The resulting unease and powerlessness they both felt may have percolated through Namo's normally unflappable demeanor. The compounding conflict between humans and fauns the pair had experienced over their travel together felt like thunderheads forming across the continent. Nevertheless, for want of the courage in the present moment to confront their shared unease directly, Martin placed a comforting hand along Namo's back, which she leaned into, similarly wordlessly. “It's alright, Namo. I understand why you're frustrated. We humans can do better, and that starts by spending time together, I think. Not, I mean, you and me specifically, but like, as, uh, as groups of people." He paused. “Actually, I really don't know what the solution is. But I didn't know what fauns were like until we started traveling…I'm glad you've helped me to learn, though."

He thought back toward the faun that had apprehended the pair outside of Uajee, and how Martin had to take his life to spare Namo's. The man had tried to push his feelings about the incident aside, assuring himself that it was either their lives or his, and that Martin merely acted in self defense. Maybe the faun just thought the two travelers were working on behalf of the humans of Espiritu, and attacked.

Be that as it may, something didn't sit right with him about the incident. He felt guilty, as if there were some other action he should have taken to avoid bloodshed. Maybe he could have talked the man down from his rage. Maybe he should bring up the incident with Namo, discuss how she felt about the matter. However, when he recalled the fleeting memory of the faun being grappled by the giant capreoline man, her own machete pressed against her throat by the goliath, the doubts about whether he took the right action dispersed, at least temporarily.

Even now, as the tramp glanced at the woman by his side, gazing over the vista before them, he feared to imagine a scenario in which he had not acted as quickly as he had. For in that moment, it truly was either Namo or the goliath. The question he had continually asked himself since that moment was not whether it should have been her or the goliath. The question was simply: why did things have to play out this way?

Martin was pleased that the road along which they traveled northwestward was just that: an actual road, complete with a smooth tarmac surface. The man remarked to the faun that, as nice as camping in the sticks had been, he appreciated knowing that they were at least heading in the right direction. Martin relished the thought of relaxing in a warm tavern, liquor in hand, dispelling the intermittent aches, tension, and tremors he had been experiencing since shortly after he had left Uat'sn. Judging by the frequency of vehicle traffic, which included not only horse-drawn carriages but also peculiar self-propelled automobiles which drew the marvel of both travelers, the travelers approached a denser urban settlement, or perhaps settlements, plural. His map, purchased in Espiritu in exchange for his travel notes on the journey from Benuun, indicated that the next town of note was a human city by the name of Fort Sarmiento, one of three villages in a U-shape around the southern half of Traeger Lake. Martin supposed these cities were hot spots for technological research, if the horseless carriages that puttered past the travelers were anything to go by.

Crossing the natural bridge that connected Echo and Sinoe yielded more changes in their surroundings than simply the frigid wind. Gone were any semblance of trees, replaced by small, splayed out shrubs that Namo was keen to inspect. Round, slate and sky gray time-worn boulders dotted the gently rolling landscape, all of which were covered in a patina of moss and lichens of rich greens, blues, reds, and oranges. Other than the handfuls of shrubs they passed on the roadside, the predominant ground cover was from low-growing sedges in a mixture of green sage and rust red, accompanied by green, red, and blue fuzzy crusts on the rounded, exposed boulders that dotted the landscape. However, if any plants were flowering, their flowers were too small to see—or so Martin thought.

As they passed by a shrub particularly close to the road, Namo stopped in her tracks. “I've seen this little guy around before!" She excitedly proclaimed, crouching down and holding out a stem. The thin branch supported a series of tiny, fuzzy flowers arranged on a single spike, giving the structure an appearance not too dissimilar from a cat's tail. “This here's is Go'ote'eko, but I've never seen 'em so small! Usually when I've seen em, they're all big an' droopy. Can't remember the English name. I wonder if they're so short because of how cold it is here?"

Martin inspected the curious little flower. “What are they good for?"

The herbalist tilted her head to the side, inspecting the shrub from all sides. “Hmm… let's see here," she said, releasing the stem she currently held and rifling through various stems. “A few things, such as…" When she couldn't find anything she was looking for on the plant in question, she abruptly stood and moved to another several feet away, foraging for something in particular.

“Are you looking for fruit?" The human asked. “Maybe it's too early in the season for them?"

Namo shook her head and continued searching. “Good guess, but no—what I'm lookin' for it seems like we might be a little late for. Ope, but hold on a sec," she procured a branch no longer than ten centimeters on the second shrub and clipped it. She handed it to Martin. “Not the best shape, but it's probably the best we got this late in the growin' season."

“It's just a branch—what's so special about this one in particular?"

Namo grinned, her botanical enthusiasm stoking those vivacious flames Martin had been yearning to see once again. “Look closely! There's something different about some of the leaves."

Martin examined the branch again. Sure enough, a cluster of leaves near the tip of the stem blushed a deeper green than the remainder of the leaves.

“See what I mean? Go on, try one!"

The man balked. “Come on Namo, you know I don't like trying random leaves I find on the ground. I could get sick."

Namo waved a hand dismissively. “Oh come on, it's not gonna hurt ya. When has anything I've ever given ya gotten ya sick?"

Martin sighed and plucked one of the thumbnail sized leaves, chewing on it thoroughly. His eyes widened. “What the hell? It's sweet? And a little sour." He was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. “Only the dark green ones are like this?"

Namo's grin widened and she gave Martin an excited nod. “Yep! Those are the new leaves. Not sure why, but as they get older they get less tasty. But still very good for ya!" Martin handed her the remainder of the branch, expecting her to pluck the new, more tender leaves off, but instead she plucked each of the dozen or so leaves and ate the handful as one might eat a handful of popcorn. “The stuff growin' on the rocks is really tasty, too," she said, covering her mouth which threatened to eject the half-chewed leaves within. She knelt near a rock encrusted in a mosaic of seafoam green and rust-orange and, using the flat of her machete, scraped off the thin material. “Snack for later," she said, winking at the human.

“I'll take your word for it," Martin replied sheepishly.

That evening found the pair camped over a hill just out of view from the road. The relatively heavy traffic the two travelers experienced during the day had Martin advising caution: he didn't want to risk being beset upon during the night, a common tactic employed by Martin in his most recent previous life of robbing weary travelers at gunpoint.

The chilly southwesterly wind that had prevailed throughout much of the day grew from chiding to berating in its frigidness, and Martin was once again grateful for the heavy canvas tent he had carried for what amounted to nearly a thousand kilometers at this point in their journey. As he drove in the final stake, each pound of his hammer mimicking the pounding in his head, the former thief reflected on their travels the past few days. His thoughts first wandered, as they usually did, to Fadina Afzal. The pair still had yet to uncover any new definitive leads on the woman's whereabouts; the innkeep at Espiritu had not encountered anyone matching her description. Martin's anxieties about whether they would ever find her loomed larger by the day. Until the day came where he could apprehend her and bring her to justice, he at least had his secondary goal of locating Arbour to pursue. By his estimation, he and his faun companion had covered over half of the distance to New Kenai by now, and if his map was anything to rely on, much of that which remained cut through civilization—human civilization.

With a final strike of the hammer, Martin drove the final stake flush with the soft soil while Namo's assisted to keep the whole thing from cartwheeling in the wind like a Vernonian tumbleweed. As he stood upright, Namo noticed the deeply creased brow of her traveling companion. “What's wrong, Maa'ko?" She asked, that thoughtful concern of hers showing plainly.

“Nothing. Head just hurts," the human muttered, as if to draw attention away from himself. Nevertheless, he rubbed his forehead as if to soothe the pain.

“Oh no, not this again," Namo replied, as a knowing parent might have responded to their child misbehaving under their watch. “I'll getcha somethin' that'll fix ya right up again."

Martin knew better than to refuse treatment from the at-times overbearing faun. “You got any more of that pepper-parsley? That helped a lot, last time." Not as much as a stiff drink would, though, he mused to himself.

The faun gave a triumphant chortle. “A-ha! This is why I tell ya you're a fast learner! That's exactly the stuff I was gonna getcha." She rifled through her brown canvas pack, which was perennially stuffed to the brim with all variety of botanicals. How she kept the different herbs and other plant products straight amidst the disorganized chaos of her pack was itself a marvel to the human. Sure enough, within moments she had produced a few sprigs of the requested pepper-parsley, which she had meticulously dried over the course of their travel. “Just munch on this. This oughta fix ya right up, until we can boil some water anyways." She handed him a pair of sprigs, which Martin gratefully accepted and munched on. The peppery, zangy taste he expected from his consumption of the fresh plant was muted from the drying process, but the flavor didn't matter so much as the medicinal effects.

“Thanks, Namo. I'm sure this'll help," Martin said, before a gust of wind cut through his woolen parka. “Hey, so it's really cold out, and I don't know about you, but I can't handle this wind. I'm gonna climb inside the tent, and you're, uh, you're welcome to join me, as always." He hoped the offer didn't betray the bashfulness he felt regarding his relationship with the faun.

If Namo felt the same bashfulness he did, he certainly couldn't tell. “Alrighty, thanks! I'll join ya in a bit. Wanna enjoy the moons risin' a bit more first."

Martin climbed into the tent, bringing his boots in with him after having learned his lesson a week or so prior back in southern Sinoe. Knowing that Namo ran as hot as she did, he pre-emptively stripped down to his smallclothes before climbing into his sleeping bag. Namo sang softly to herself in Kepmuun, her evening ritual of practicing her craft now a welcome part of Martin's nightly routine. He threatened to drift off amid the comforting insulation of his sleeping bag after a long day traveling, but one thing nagged at the corners of the outlaw's mind. He opened his eyes.

As if preempting Martin's train of thought, the faun climbed into the tent, scratching her head as she did so. She sat down on her blankets and began disrobing. “So I was thinkin' 'bout the some of the grasses here," she began, lifting her parka over her head to reveal bare skin and fur beneath. Martin averted his eyes in the interest of propriety. “Didja know that even though, small as they are, that Kepmuun would eat them when times were tough?"

“Is that a fact?" Martin replied, his interest sincere, though distracted he was.

“Shore is! They don't taste all that great, and you can't really do much with 'em, but I—" she paused for a moment. “Hey Maa'ko? Why do they call your language English and not 'human,' or whatever?" Martin saw, in his peripheral vision, the faun woman untying the sash-like skirt she wore most days, and missed both the ninety-degree change in topic and unprompted question she asked. He swallowed hard and turned away from her to lie on his side before the woman to his left thankfully covered herself in her upper blanket.

The man felt the nagging at the corners of his mind resurge to a full-force maelstrom in the presence of the faun. The notion that they were simply travelers with a shared goal had long since passed; so, too, did it seem inappropriate to call the pair of them simply friends—he was grateful that he could call her that, at least. But the nature of the moments they had shared seemed to transgress simple platonic friendship: from her sleeping on his chest in Benuun, to their quiet tender evenings by the fire in Uat'sn, to sharing the tent as they had become accustomed to in the windy, chilly fall weather of southern Sinoe and Echo: he couldn't speak for Namo, but Martin doubted whether he would interact with someone he had only platonic feelings toward in that manner. And then there was the kiss they had shared less than a week ago. He couldn't deny that part of what may have spurred that contact was borne from the near-death experience they had stared down and overcome together…but nor could he deny that that was the only reason why he had not only returned her kiss, but pursued a second one. Still, as the rogue lied in the comfort of his sleeping bag, feeling the natural heat radiating from the woman toward which his thoughts were directed, he couldn't help but want to kiss her a third time, and perhaps—

“Maa'ko? Didja fall asleep?" The woman replied softly. Martin rolled over to find those softly gleaming brown eyes he was so habitually entranced by staring at him. They beckoned him closer, and his pulse quickened, unbidden. The man smiled at his companion and he sat up, surprising her. The thrumming in his head, dulled by the effects of the pepper-parsley, was superseded by the palpitations in his chest, arms, legs, feet, hands, and every other part of his body as his adrenaline rushed. He gazed into those soft eyes of hers and cleared his throat. Consequences be damned! The words tumbled out of Martin's mouth before he could catch them.

“I'm sorry Namo, but something's been on my mind and I need to tell you."

“Is it about why your language is called English?" Namo stared back at him inquisitively.

The man blinked incredulously. “Uh…what?"