Tainted

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Oh! I almos' forgot!" Sailor reaches into the pocket of his loose linen pants and pulls out a roll of Traigh bread. It's crumbly, but delicious. I eat it in three bites.

A trail of kids walks ahead of us on the path. They carry notebooks and pieces of papyri, pencils clutched in their small hands. Class must start soon.

"Where do they get their supplies?" I ask Sailor, nodding toward the kids.

"Th' Scouts go out an' ge' supplies. Maybe once a month for study supplies," Sailor answers.

Sailor can't be much older than Myles and it's unsettling. I can't help but see Myles's easy smile in Sailor's open expression.

"Did Rogue tell yae how th' showers work?" Sailor asks as we draw near.

I watch the kids settle onto their stumps. The Educator is back, wearing a navy tunic this time, the sleeves still rolled just above his elbows. He has a blackboard behind him, but nothing's yet been written down.

"A little bit," I say. "Pour the water into the top of basins, and then there's a mechanism that lets it rain down."

Sailor nods, his chin wobbling. "Tha's abou' it! There's wa'er here in the pot. Jus' give it another jot or so on th' clock an' then i' should bae warm enough." Sailor stands beside a massive pot of water steaming over an open fire. I have the distinct feeling he set the water to boil just for me.

"Thank you, so much, for your kindness," I say.

Sailor beams. "I's no' a problem," he says. He leads me inside the wooden shower structure. There are two stalls. Three walls and the floor are wooden slats, with a curtain serving as the fourth wall. The whole structure itself seems very well-made, and I wonder if it's leftover from when the Fire Worshippers used this place.

The thought makes me shiver.

"Don' worry, th' wa'er will be hot enough to make yae no' as cold," Sailor says, misinterpreting my shiver.

I nod thanks. Peering out of the shower structure, I look for Rogue, but don't see him anywhere. Not many people are milling about in the coming heat of day, though. The kids all sit and listen intently to the Educator, while a few adults move about carrying dishes and raw foods.

James has found the shade of a tree, but his curled body is too big to be fully covered by the shade, so I watch him shift from side to side, trying to get both his snout and hindquarters in the shade at the same time.

Sailor pulls a raggedy towel down from a shelf full of the similar rolls of terrycloth, and he hands me cleansing oil for my hair, and a bar of jasmine-smelling soap. The washing materials are all clustered together on a shelf just below the towels. It seems to be a communal selection, rather than an individualized one.

"Thank you," I say, taking the supplies from him.

"Yae can set those down in th' stall an' hang th' towel on th' hook. Th' wa'er should bae ready now."

I follow Sailor's instructions, and head back outside. The water is bubbling. It takes the two of us to carry it over to the pulley system and hook it up to the ropes. We take turns heaving on the rope until the pot is hoisted up and above the metal basin. With a second pull of the rope, the pot turns on its side, spilling its contents into the basin. I watch the steam curl toward the sky.

"Yae should bae ready now. I'll come back wi' another set o' clothes," Sailor says.

I thank him for a third time, and he totters off across the central clearing.

The Educator's begun writing things on the blackboard, but from this distance I can't quite see what he's written. I hear the kids laugh, though, and it makes me smile.