Elisa gestured to the table laden with dishes, her warm smile pulling me abruptly back to the strange, unsettling reality of this human house and the prepared meal laid out.
The plate before me, piled high with steaming, colorful mounds, was a landscape as foreign as this house. Deep purples, vibrant yellows, and leafy greens swam in fragrant sauces. I poked hesitantly at a particularly bright yellow concoction, unsure if it was plant, animal, or something in between. The aromas, while intriguing, were far removed from the earthy scents of the forest I knew.
My stomach rumbled, a hollow ache that reminded me I hadn’t eaten since leaving the river, yet I hesitated. Could I eveneatthis?
Elisa, ever observant, seemed to sense my apprehension. “It’smoqueca,” she explained, gesturing to the yellow dish. “A stew made with coconut milk, dendê oil, and… well, you’ll see.” She gave me a reassuring smile, then placed a piece of the grilled fish onto my plate. “But try the fish first. It’s fresh from the river.”
The familiar taste, though subtly spiced, was a welcome anchor in this culinary unknown. I took another bite, cautiously this time, of themoqueca. The creamy texture and unexpected sweetness surprised me. It wasn’t unpleasant, just different.
Caio dug into his plate with gusto. He sat beside me, shoveling down the colorful mounds with an enthusiasm I couldn’t quite comprehend.
Elisa watched us both, her expression unreadable. Then, a tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room.
“Luzia, this is my husband, Paulo,” Elisa said, her voice filled with affection.
Paulo nodded a greeting. “Welcome to our home, Luzia,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. He sat down at the simple wooden table, joining us in this strange yet comforting ritual of shared food.
I surprised myself by finishing almost everything on my plate, the initial strangeness of the food giving way to a pleasant fullness. Thereafter, a wave of exhaustion, delayed but inevitable, washed over me.
The tension of the day, the shock of seeing theSeolais, and the strangeness of this new environment all weighed heavily on me. I stifled a yawn, suddenly aware of the heavy droop of my eyelids.
“You look exhausted, dear,” Elisa said, her voice gentle. “Caio, why don’t you show Luzia to your room?”
Caio, who had been engrossed in meticulously cleaning his plate, looked up, surprised. “My room?” he repeated, glancing at his mother, then back at me. His mother’s firm nod settled the matter. “Of course, I said I would sleep in the hammock.”
He led me down a short hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath our bare feet. The walls were adorned with brightly colored tapestries, depicting scenes of river life and lush jungle foliage, along with family photos.
“Here you go,” he said, opening a door to reveal a small, simply furnished room.
A narrow bed, covered with a brightly woven blanket, occupied most of the space. A small wooden chest sat at the foot of the bed, and a single window looked out onto the dense foliage surrounding the house. It wasn’t much, but it felt safe.
“You’ll need some clean clothes,” Elisa said, appearing in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over my stolen clothes. I flushed red, knowing what I had done.
“I’ll find you something more comfortable,” Elisa added before slipping away.
Exhaustion tugged at me, making the prospect of rest and shedding the weight of the day even more appealing.
Caio lingered by the doorway, his gaze fixed on my ankle. “Can I check?” he asked.
Hesitantly, I extended my foot. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, a strange mix of unease and something else. He traced the smooth skin where the ankle had swollen, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
“It really is better,” he whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. “Almost completely healed.”
His reaction, the awe in his voice, made me uneasy.Does he know?Know about the healing powers of the river, about theconnection between my people and theSeolais? I quickly pulled my foot back, a knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Elisa reappeared, a glass of water in her hand.
“These were for charity, but they should fit,” she said, placing a stack of clothes on a nearby chair. Then she held out a glass of water. “You look thirsty.”
I took it, surprised.How did she know?I hadn’t said a word. I took a long drink, the cool water soothing my parched throat.
Elisa placed the neatly folded clothes on top of a chair. Why did they wear such uncomfortable clothing against their skin?
Elisa lingered for a moment, her gaze searching mine. Then, she began to speak, but her voice was soft and melodic, and the words twisted and shifted, becoming a torrent of unfamiliar sounds.
“¿Quién eres realmente? ¿De dónde vienes?”
Panic flared in my chest. What was happening? Why couldn’t I understand her? My muscles tensed, my instinct screaming at me to flee back to the river.
