Page 52 of Vexing Valmir
We head out, and I keep an arm around Makana as I hike so he doesn't get jostled. It's a nice day, with a gentle breeze and the sun out. It makes the strangeness on the beach even more jarring, and I wonder how many shelled monsters are going to show up on the sands today. Fifty? A hundred? I was tempted to put off my plans to release Makana, but at the fire last night, Liz told us all that there was nothing to do about the nautili beaching themselves. All we can do is sit and wait. The huts can't be moved, but they can be rebuilt like they were before. Since I'm too restless to sit and watch mindless tentacle monsters drive their shells over our houses, releasing Makana seems as good an idea as any.
I'm lost in thought as I hike alongside Valmir. We're not talking, but I suppose that's not surprising. We haven't had much to say to each other lately. Not since he got injured and I realized that I can't keep stringing him along on increasingly dangerous missions. Meeting Aidy and Corvak and seeing their delight at being part of the group just emphasized to me how much of a loner Valmir is, and reinforced that if he wanted to be part of things, he would. It made me realize we want very different things out of life. If I picture my life five years from now, do I think?—
"You surprise me," Valmir says, interrupting my thoughts.
His quiet words jerk me back to the present. I flush, feeling disloyal for thinking about the future when I should be focused on right now. "What do you mean?"
"It is a strenuous hike," he says, gesturing at the steep, rocky path we're on. "I deliberately picked a treacherous one so you would comment on it. Or so you'd cling to me like Aidy does toCorvak." He smirks in my direction at that. "Instead, you keep pace at my side and say nothing. I'm almost disappointed."
"Is that bait?" I ask. "Because you just insulted Aidy and she's been nothing but nice to you."
"Aidy is a nice female," he says. "But she would be the first to say that she does not like a strenuous hike. Or hunting. Or leaving camp. She is quite happy to lurk near a fire. There are several females like that back at the camp, but you are not one of them."
"I don't know how I feel about that," I muse. "It's not a compliment."
"Why not?"
"Because you're slamming the other girls while trying to make me seem like I'm better than them. Everyone contributes in their own way. I'm not patient enough to sit with the kids. I'm not good at sewing yet. If I can brute force my way through things, I will. It doesn't make someone that sits at camp a bad person. They're still providing value to the group."
"And that's important to you? Providing value to the group?"
I eye him as I put my hands on a craggy boulder and haul myself over it. The "path" is steep, but if he can do it with a tender ankle, I figure I can do it with two good ones. His words seem to be genuine, so I decide to answer him in a genuine fashion. "I love that everyone here is like a great big family. I don't want them to feel like they must take care of me. I want to be part of a team, and I want others to count on me, and I want to know I can count on them. It's about being part of that big family."
Valmir is quiet for a long moment. "I don't know what that's like."
I pause, shocked. I've assumed something so basic about him for the last few weeks — that he'd know how to act in agroup. That he'd know what it's like to be part of a big unit, a family, a team. "Weren't you and the other gladiators taught to be teammates? To work together?"
His tone turns defensive and he won't look at me. "Maybe some are, but I have no memories of that."
This is so surprising to me…and yet it's not the first time he's grudgingly confessed that he's missing information. "Whatdoyou have memories of?"
"If I'm being honest, not much." Valmir's trying to be lighthearted, but I suspect there's a deeper pain there. This is something that has come up before, and I suspect it really bothers him.
It makes me wonder. Is he such a loner and so hard to get along with because he just doesn't know how? Or am I reading too much into things? "I get flooded with memories of home every now and then. Words I know that the translator doesn't, customs no one else knows but me. Instead of comforting me, it makes me...lonely."
"I'm sorry."
I bite my lip. "It just makes me desperate to remember who I was. Sometimes I wish I didn't have any of that. It might be easier to have nothing. To be a blank slate, like Vivi or Natalie."
"It isn't." He pauses on the next rocky outcrop and holds a hand out for me to take.
I ignore it, because I don't need help, and anchor my fingers on a particularly gnarly bit of rock. "No?"
"No," he repeats. As I haul myself up, his hand brushes against the small of my back, as if he can't help himself with wanting to assist. I pull my weight over the ledge and adjust Makana again, then turn to look down at Valmir as I sit on the edge of the ledge. He studies my face. "Being a blank slate is terrible. You always wonder what you don't have, or if there'ssome basic information you're missing somehow. It feels like being left out of the joke, always."
It's a surprisingly vulnerable confession from him. "Is that really how you feel?"
His eyes narrow, and his expression turns defensive again. With one agile movement, he climbs up to where I'm at. "Nah."
The soft moment between us is gone. I get to my feet, noticing that his tail is flicking wildly, betraying his otherwise impassive demeanor.
We don't speak again for a while. The trail (such as it is) winds through the cliffs and eventually evens out into what seems like a delightful little valley. There are bushes all along the edges of the cliffs and a trickle of water coming from a rocky escarpment that might have been a waterfall if it wasn't freezing up as soon as it hits the air. The ground is shiny and lacquered, the snow gleaming in the sunlight so brightly that it hurts my eyes. It's not uncommon for the snow to get crispy on the surface overnight after melting in the daytime. It just means this valley gets some warmth.
"This looks like a good spot," I say to Valmir. "We've got food and water, and it's protected from the wind."
"Here?" he echoes, and I nod, a knot in my throat. Here is as good a place as any.
We walk forward, side by side. I take a few wondering paces into the cute little valley. This will be a great place for Makana. It's quiet and picturesque. If I were a two-fang, this would be where I'd want to live for sure. "Let's take him to the bushes on the far side."
