The Glass Mountains

The Glass Mountains by Cynthia Kadohata

Book: The Glass Mountains by Cynthia Kadohata Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cynthia Kadohata
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population might be easily conquered but the climate can’t be conquered by human, beast, or sorcerer. Of course I say that knowing full well that in our own way our people have conquered the climate. I don’t mean to offend fate by saying that, I only mean that the way to conquer such a climate is to surrender to it as we have, but the Soom Kali are incapable of surrender...”  
    Meanwhile Maruk mumbled as he walked, and every so often he whipped his killing knife out of the folds of his orange gown. The material scarcely rustled during the maneuver. Leisha, usually high-spirited, dragged her feet more than anyone else I could see. Jobei moved along with both the determination and the resignation of one who knows his fate is inexorable. By being determined, he probably believed, he could at least exert his will. It was similar to what Tarkahn said about the climate. Jobei would conquer his fate not only by surrendering to it but by relishing it. Katinka slept. My parents walked together almost touching, silent. I, too, walked quietly, observing everyone else until my mind wandered and I dreamed of a vast waterland or, better yet, an iceland, where the people constructed houses of ice that sparkled in the sun the way our houses did, and where you could lick the sides of your ice house whenever you got thirsty.  
    I stared at the sand until it looked to me like the ice I’d seen in renderings. I began to love ice. I attributed religious and transformative qualities to it.  
    “Mariska! Mariska!” Maruk was yelling.  
    “What?”  
    “Hurry, you’re falling behind.” Almost everyone else now walked in front of me. Artie trudged by my side with Katinka in tow. She stared ahead, a weepy look to her face.  
    I climbed to the side of the sand sled. “Go, Artie!” Artie sped up until I told him to slow down so I could hop off. He’d taken me up near the beginning of the pack. A woman I’d never seen before wailed not far away. No tears fell, but she kept making noises almost like the mating call of a larabird, each wail starting out full and throaty and slowly becoming high-pitched and full of pain. I walked nearer her, watching, feeling politely yet patronizingly curious about this exhibition of pain that differed so much from my parents’ stoicism, in fact from the stoicism of all the other grown-ups.  
    Tarkahna leaned in close to me. Her hood had fallen down, and her long black hair was braided and wrapped several times in a circle around the top of her head, so that it looked like a shiny black cap. “That lady you’re watching is from my clan, but she’s not a native Bakshami.”  
    “Where is she from?” I couldn’t remember someone from another sector who’d ever actually moved here. Forma bordered us on one side and Soom Kali on the other three. And certainly no one from those cultures would ever choose to live here.  
    “She’s from Mallarr.”  
    “Why did she come here?”  
    “She mated with a Bakshami man.”  
    “Who?”  
    “I saw him only from afar. He played the drums like a demon. Such a man! He’d traveled to Mallarr to set up a trading station. She loved his peaceful ways and thought he planned to spend the rest of his life in Mallarr. But he got homesick, and she agreed to come back here with him. They had four children, and then he died of dust virus. Apparently his virus defenses weakened in Mallarr, and ever since he came here he got sick all the time.”  
    “When did he die?”  
    “Only one cycle ago.”  
    “Why doesn’t she take her kids back to Mallarr?”  
    “She likes it better here.”  
    “I thought only the natives liked to live in Bakshami.”  
    “My parents say she’s a rare woman. I say she’s rather odd.”  
    My friend hurried to break up a fight her dog had started. I walked close to the woman and her children but didn’t say anything. Actually the sound of her wailing unnerved me, and I could see it was starting to vex everyone

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