As I got nearer, the field looked even worse than it had appeared from a distance and so did the people. They were about five other people working besides the man and women who had stopped to talk to me. The man and woman had looked old but up close I could see that they were both young—probably early to mid twenties—but hard labor had stripped away their youth. Their skin was sun withered, hands callused and bare footed. , They worn, ill-fitting clothes that were once colorful. It all made them seem older than they were. What was even more strange was how everyone else didn’t seem to notice me. They just continued cutting the millet, tying it into even sheaves, and stacking the bundles onto a battered box cart quietly. The only sounds were the scrape of blades, the rustle of dry stalks, and the steady munching of cows grazing on brittle grass nearby.

  There seemed to be nothing magical about this place. If anything it was too normal. I was slightly unsettled. Something was off. After living in Jena’s lair, I expected the world to be brimming with magical people and magical wonders. My first encounter had been a magical Mist. I lived with a dragon. The thought of Jena reminded me of determination to teach Jena a lesson. It was so childish but I was to far into the plan to stop now. I ignored my slight disappointment

  “A job? You want to work here?” The man hesitantly asked pointing to the ground to emphasize his question. I smiled my most beguiling smile. It didn’t work. He just widen his eyes in confusion. “Why?” He asked. Why, what? Why would anyone want work at all or to work in their field?

  I shrugged and said, “I am lost and I don’t know where I am. I need food and board until I can figure out my next steps.” I was stretching the truth a little bit but not by much. I was lost but not in their way I implied. Also I didn’t need food and board but I needed to figure out my next steps.

  He looked at me skeptically and said , “You are not a traveler? You are lost?” I nodded. He pointed to the forest in the direction I came from. “You came from the there.” I nodded again. If I wasn’t looking at them closely, I would have missed it. Their eyes widened slightly and then they smiled. Was it fear or surprise, I couldn’t tell but they certainly weren’t as happy as they were trying to show me. I guess I am not the only one stretching the truth.

  “Unfortunately, we can’t afford to hire labor even for just food and board.” The woman said shaking her head slightly but still smiling.

  “Sorry! Sorry! What my wife means is that we can afford to give you a place to stay but not enough food to eat after a hard day of work.,” The husband interjected quickly as he exchanged a look with his the woman who was apparently his wife. The wife saw something in his eyes and her eyes widen slightly and gave a small nod. This really was getting to interesting to pass up. What was going on, I wondered.

  He continued,“The smoke-that-thunders has destroyed all this season’s crop just before the harvest as you can see.” Their crop look atrocious and the Mist had hit it just before the harvest. I used to grow millet too when I was growing up. It hardy and easy to grow - it doesn’t need a lot of water. It is resistant to heat, wind even neglect but apparently not to the Mist. “We don’t have enough to last through to the next harvest. We have plenty of milk and we have been drinking that. The cows are doing surprisingly well. If you are okay with drinking milk and a little bit of finger millet porridge, we will be happy to have you.” He looked at me expectantly.

  I didn’t know what he was expecting from me. Did he wanted me to say yes or to say no? I tried to use identify on them like Jena taught me but nothing. Am I doing it wrong? I will have to ask Jena. Thought of Jena intruded. I should have used Identify on Jena, maybe I would have known what he was sooner. I shut the thought quickly, I didn’t want to distract myself from this conversation. This could be my way into this world.

  So I couldn’t identify the couple and I couldn’t work out their intention. Their facial expressions were confusing me. I didn’t know what was going on. I wish John was here. He was good at reading people. I wasn’t. I didn’t do subtle. What you say is what I hear. Were they hoping I take the job or where they hope I move along? I couldn’t work it out so I did what I always do, I asked questions. Sometimes people reveal more than they think by their responses to questions even if they don’t answer directly.

  “Which would you rather, I stay and take the job or I move along and find a job somewhere else?” I tried to soften my question so that it doesn’t come out as a challenge.

  “No! Please stay!” They both said at the same time, taking a step towards me. They were eager for me to stay. Maybe too eager. “No,” the men said, “we would never turn anyone who is in need away!” He raised his hands as if in surrender. The words sounded kind but something made me feel like they were not as kind as they were trying to portray. “We are just trying to explain what exactly you will be getting yourself into. We are happy to have you. Actually you will be a welcome blessing. We need the labor and you look fit enough. We will need to find you clothes, what you are wearing won’t do in the field. ” He words instead of reassuring me made me more weary.

  “By the way, my name is Zuruvi. And this is my wife maNyoni. Please, lets take a sit and talk.” He started to walk towards a tree at the end of the field and I followed. “Hama,” he called out and a boy who couldn’t have been more than 10 years, detached himself from millet cutting people. They didn’t look up or acknowledge me. “Take the cart,” Zuruvi was saying, “and go deliver the load.” Then as an aside he said to me, “he is our youngest son. A good boy. We are luck all are kids are really good kids.” Kids? How old were they really. I had just assumed the are in their mid-twenties.

  The good boy didn’t so much as glance or even greet me. Surely in every culture greeting someone is polite. What was really go on here? I was getting increasingly uncomfortable and I think if I wasn’t upset with Jena, I would have left at this point. The little boy drove the two cows near the cart and then all by himself maneuvered the cart and the cows so that he could hitch the cart onto the cows. He was very competent. I don’t think any of my boys could have done that growing up. Then I smiled, because I just realized they can’t do that even now. MaNyoni saw my smile and smiled back. The smile didn’t change my skepticism about this not so young couple. Maybe the boy wasn’t even ten but much older.

  I took the time it took us to get to the sitting area tree to maul over what I had just heard and seen. Zuruvi and maNyoni names were what we would call praise names for mutupos in my world. The “ma” is a prefix attached to every woman. If they are like mutupos in my world the husband’s mutupo was heart and the wife was bird - just bird, not a specific bird. By the time we sat down I had made my decision. I wanted to explore this place where things were not what they seemed. I wasn’t going to tell any lies but I was going to be vague as possible to leave myself an out if things go sideways. Fact always depend on how they are told after all.

  “My name is maMlilo,” I used my fire mutupo praise name from my old world. I didn’t know any praise names for the dragon mutupo. Since the Ding decided my fire mutupo was dragon mutupo then using fire mutupo praise name should be okay. “It nice to meet you.”

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  “Nice to meet you too,” they said as they smiled some more. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes. They seemed like nice people. I wanted to like them. But my gut told me they were hiding something. “You are a Mlilo? I haven’t met any Mlilo people,” said the husband when we were all comfortably sitting cross-legged under the tree. “Have you?” He asked his wife. She shook her head the smile still plastered on her face.

  “So where are you coming from. That forest is dangerous.” When I hesitated he rushed to say, “No, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. We are asking because we could help you find your way home. We are still happy to just give you work even if you don’t tell us. We need all the hands we can get. We want to put in the next crop as soon as we can.” The last part sounded honest enough. Maybe I was just imagining their strangeness. I would be cautious too in if someone random, looking like me, were to pop up near my field and ask for work.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It just that I don’t know.” Truth, I didn’t know where my world was. I really was lost just not in the way I was making them think. “The only thing and last thing I remember in that forest,” I was going to play with the truth here, “I don’t what to take about how I survived the smoke-that-thunders…” At the mention of the Mist, they both grasped.

  “You were in the Mist?” Whispered maNyoni. The plastered smile was gone and real fear was evident in her eyes. Zuruvi wasn’t taking it any better.

  “B-b-but how are you alive? It’s been six weeks.”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged.

  “You have to leave.” He said urgently, standing up and looking around as if to see if anyone was looking at us. The five in the field we still bend over the millet, harvesting. Who was he looking for?

  “Why?” I asked and I stood up too. So did maNyoni.

  The husband just shook his head and said again, “Go before anyone see you!” I just looked at them. Dumb founded. Before anyone sees me? There are people in the fields. I looked back in the field to say exactly what and I stopped. There was no one. The only evidence that I hadn’t hallucinated them was the cleared field where they had been working. Where did they go? I didn’t get to ask the question, because Zuruvi and maNyoni were trying to get me to move but whisper arguing.

  MaNyoni whispered furiously, “You have to tell her the truth!”

  “I don’t want any trouble. Getting involved with Nyajena is anything but trouble.” He whispered back.

  “Nyajena?” I asked. They didn’t seem to hear me “Did you say Nyajena?” I asked again. Zuruvi looked at me for a long moment.

  “Yes, Nyajena city. What of it?” I wanted to laugh. Surely Jena was not that arrogant naming a city after himself. Literally, the name Nyajena means “Jena’s”.

  “Is it near by?”I asked. Another idea was beginning to form in mind. Today I was full of ideas.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Zuruvi looked incredulous. “Where are you from?” He didn’t let me answer instead said, “You know what, don’t answer me. I already know too much.” He turned to his wife and said, “Nothing good will come out of this. We should just let her go.”

  MaNyoni shook her head, “We are already too involved. Everyone saw us with her. That is the least we can do.”

  “Okay,” Zuruvi said in a resigned voice and sat back down. We are sat down again. “I will tell you what I know. Mind you I only know what we were planning to do, the rest is just speculation.”

  “Thank you. Feel free to speculate. Anything will help me. I know nothing.” I decided a little honest might help things along.

  “The Smoke-That-Thunders came through six weeks ago. It destroyed everything it touched. We barely survived, taking our animals into the underground hideout. The smoke didn’t stay long. It never does. It just passes through. Normally the Mist stays in the forest and comes only once or twice a year. Lately it’s been happening more often, and the last time was just before the harvest. This time it didn’t stay in the forest. It went as far as Nyajena. To give you an idea of how bad this is - Nyajena is a week by cart from here and they have never had the Mist come from this direction. To say Nyajena was not fully prepared is an understatement. There were no fatalities but they took heavy losses and many working class people are leaving the city to safer places. Which is why they need more workers. After about a week, a message was sent to the villages by Ishe.”

  “Ishe,” I asked

  “He is the ruler of the Nyajena. He is offering a handsome reward for any information about anyone who survived the Mist in any forest. They messengers didn’t say why Ishe wants them but we know how city people deal with us rural fork.” At that he shuddered like he was remembering something painful.

  Both Nyajena and it’s ruler were sounding like they weren’t what Jena was expecting. He was expecting to ride and save a city but I don’t think this was going to happen. This didn’t sound like a city in need of a savior. I wish he saw things my way. People like time, move on. Nothing stays the same. It’s a different city now, I am sure. What was worrying me was that this unfriendly city was looking for anyone who came out of the forest. Why? I definitely didn’t want to be found by them. I want to live life on my own terms. Right now I wanted to stay here. This Ishe ruler was going to mess up my plans if I can’t evade him.

  “So let me get this straight. When you realized I might be one of the people Ishe is looking, you choose to send me away to protect me?” That was pretty decent of them. Why were they shifty at the beginning. There is more here I don’t see, I thought to myself.

  “No, to protect ourselves,” maNyoni rushed to say we more honest than she had shown this far. “We know Nyajena and it’s not a good idea to get involved with them.”

  “Why is that?” Zuruvi looked at me like I was dense. I really didn’t get it. Wouldn’t passing along information that can help Nyajena be looked up favorably.

  “Lets just say we are expendable and leave it at that,” Zuruvi said. Jena was really not going to like what had become of his city. A tiny bit of me felt sorry for him but not enough to let him walk all over me. “I think you should go now.” Zuruvi made to stand up.

  “Tell her the rest,” maNyoni urged. There was more? Of course, there was more.

  Zuruvi sighed and settled down again. “We were excited about you working for us because we were hoping to make a bit of coin off you.” My eyes bulged at that. Zuruvi just casually told me that he was hoping to make money off me. Slavery? Were they planning to sell me to slavers? What’s with slavery and this world! I frowned, clearly annoyed. “Not like that,” Zuruvi correctly interpreted what I thought about his idea. “We were going to recommend you to some people in Nyajena. Because of the Mist they are short of staffed and if any of us recommend someone we get paid a good coin.” Uh, that makes some sense. Phew!

  “But I thought you don’t want to be involved with the Nyajena people.”

  “Yes, but this is purely business. We would have told you about the work in Nyajena, if you choose to go then we would have recommend you. We get paid, you get a job. No harm no foul.”

  “Are you sure about that.” This Nyajena people weren’t sounding like model humans to me.

  Zuruvi just sighed and maNyoni looked away. They knew what they were going to do was wrong. I can sort of understand why they would have done it. Judging by their appearances they were really poor and losing their current harvest was a big blow. They don’t know if they were going to get another harvest since the Mist was now more frequent. It doesn’t excuse what they were about to do but explains it. I grew up poor too.

  I understood what poverty did. When you have months to feed, you might find yourself doing things you never thought you would do. At least they had scruples, as soon as they realized that it wasn’t going to be a simple job offer for me, they sort of tried to help me escape. They really were nice people on hard times. I really wanted to stay and find out what was going on. Just then, we heard the clop, clop of hooves coming from the direction the boy had left.

  Zuruvi and his wife slowly stood up, face stricken with terror. Whoever or whatever was coming couldn’t be good.

  “How did they know?” He whispered, at the same time that maNyoni said to me, “You have to run maMlilo!”

  But I couldn’t. Where would I run to. I was just as helpless as these poor farmers. I didn’t know how to get into the liar or how to go back where Jena left me. I arrived here just wondering aimlessly.

  “I can’t!” I whispered back to maNyoni. She just looked at me with fear and confusion in her eyes. I knew why she was confused. My eyes were clear and there wasn’t a hit of fear in me. Stupidity or bravery, who knows?