The trumpeter was playing the ‘assembly’ call. 

     For a moment, Tip wondered why an assembly was being ordered. Then he grabbed his plate and stood up, because the breakfast time was finished. As he did so, he made sure that his disguise was in place. A movement drew Tip’s attention. He turned.

      “Hurry up,” said Culmen, bouncing from foot to foot.

     Culmen’s brown eyes sparkled with the ‘I know something you don’t know,’ look as they danced over a field of freckles and a wide grin filled with strong, square teeth. Even his clay brown hair capered in the breeze.

     “Don’t want to be late for the new Overseer,” said Culmen.

     “He’s here already? I thought it would be a while before he arrived.”
 
     “Nope. He came last night. Lord Regor is in a hurry for some reason.”
 
     “I wonder why?”
 
     Culmen shrugged. “Don’t know. We better go.”
 
     Tip picked up his equipment pack and looped the carrying strap over his shoulder. He shuffled along beside his friend.
 
     They left the eating area, which was on the south side of the camp’s central square. Tip joined the line of workers who were moving towards the nearby washing area.
 
     Tip leaned closer to Culmen and spoke in a whisper. “I hope the new Overseer is better than the old Overseer.”
 
     “Me too.” 
 
     As Tip walked, he looked about through sheltered eyes. The other workers milled around him in a dense mass. Their murmuring small talk surrounded Tip like a blanket, covering anything he and Culmen said.
 
     “I wish the new Overseer would stop the informers,” Tip whispered.
  
     “And some of the bullies.” Culmen paused for a moment. “But I’m not sure he’s gonna.”
 
     “What do you mean?”
 
     Culmen gestured with his hand. “Look at the walls.”
 
     Tip stared at the buttressed stone walls that surrounded the camp. They loomed way over the workers. 

     From the top edge of the walls, stone pillars jutted into the enclosed space like claws. Tip could see braided vines shining tautly between the pillars. The vines bristled with sharp thorns.
 
     Then Tip noticed what Culmen had seen. More guards than usual paced on the wall tops. They carried enough weapons to fell an army. Attack dogs on leashes escorted them.
 
     “Oh, man!” Tip whispered. “That’s not good.”
 
     Watching the guards with their dogs, Tip felt his muscles tensing. His pulse quickened as if he was running away from a predator. He gazed at the soothing sky overhead. It was the only free thing he could see while inside the camp.
 
     The sky was still dark in the west, but it was filled with bright red, orange and yellow bands in the east. The light of the rising sun was blocked by the walls.
 
     After he relaxed, Tip walked forward a few steps. As he moved, the mild wind flowed across his skin and ruffled his hair in playful bursts. The morning wind always blew from the north-east towards the south-west.
 
     Tip breathed in the powerful scent of the Medicine berries. Today the odor carried an extra sweetness, which meant the outer berries were fully ripe.
 
     “I wish we could start working right now,” said Tip, “Before the berries that have fallen spoil.”
 
     Culmen mimicked the voice of the camp educator. “Orders must be obeyed,” 
 
     “The Overseer’s wasting our time. The harvest is already running late. If we don’t hurry, we could lose it all.”
 
     Tip stopped whispering because he had reached the washing area. He dropped his plate in a tub of water. Then he shuffled beside Culmen through the babbling crowd, headed towards the western side of the square.
 
     “There you are,” said a girl’s voice. “Wait for me.”
 
     Tip spotted his sister. “Hi, Ami.”
 
     She was younger than he was. Unfortunately she could not hide in plain sight like Tip was doing. Just like Tip’s younger brothers, Ami had inherited their mother’s coloring. Her eyes were the brilliant green of new ferns after the monsoon, and her hair was midnight-black. Already she was pretty, for a girl.
 
     “Sorry I missed breakfast with you guys. I was doing some things for Mom. Baby sister was fretful again last night.”
 
     “That’s why we sleep under the barracks,” said Culmen, teasing her.
 
     “Hrumph,” replied Ami, making a face at Culmen, her arms on her hips. Then she spun around. “Let’s go.” She dashed through the crowd.
 
     Tip walked beside Culmen, head slightly bowed and feet moving silently. His friend bounced along, making his hair flap. Culmen could hide in plain sight as Tip was doing, but Tip knew his friend didn’t care whether others noticed him or not.
 
     When Tip reached the position for blue squad, he lined up with the other members of the team. He took a position behind Stu and his squad.
 
     Tip could always tell who Stu was without seeing his face. He towered over Tip and was topped with curly reddish-brown hair that stood out from his head in tufts.
 
     Stu turned and smiled down at Tip, his tranquil gray eyes contrasting with his curly black eyebrows and his wild hair.
 
     “Looks like you’re feeling better today,” said Stu.
 
     “Yes.”
 
     “I’m glad. I’ve been worried about you.”
 
     “Me too,” said the blond-haired ground worker standing beside Stu. His name was Kelly and he was willing to play kick ball with Tip in the evenings, even though Tip was so small.
 
     “Thanks.” Tip could tell that Stu and Kelly were pleased that he was well.
 
     Stu and Kelly turned around towards the education shed. This building stood beside the inner wall that separated the workers’ side of the camp from the soldiers’ side. The speaking area was on the roof of the building. A guard watched up there.
 
     Tip heard a squeak. He looked at the pocket on the top of his equipment pack. A forked tongue was flicking through the opening. His pet butterfly lizard, Spot, was awake.
 
     Reaching in the pouch on his belt, Tip pulled out a leaf worm. Maybe the treat would make Spot happy. The lizard had been sulking a lot lately.
 
     Tip set his other hand by Spot’s resting-place and the small creature crawled out onto his palm. Then Spot looked up at him, and began squeaking. Tip offered him the worm, but the lizard refused it. Spot just squeaked, with his head raised and his eyes wide open. Tip knew what his pet wanted.
 
     Tip raised his hand and whispered to Spot. “I can’t.”
 
     Though Tip stroked Spot reassuringly, the lizard closed his mouth and sank down flat on Tip’s hand, staring with accusing eyes. Tip pursed his lips and shook his head. He couldn’t do what the lizard wanted, not since the accident. Tip put Spot on the top of his head.
 
     Sulking with every movement he made, the butterfly lizard grabbed Tip’s hair and curled up.
 
     Looking around, Tip saw other butterfly lizards crawling on the walls and resting on many of the workers. Though he wanted to summon all of them, Tip didn’t do so, because this would draw unwanted attention. He knew that he must look normal, instead of cursed. 

© 2003 Cathy Brunson. All Rights Reserved. 
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