Azhana: The A Mutator

By Deborah Dunn and C. L. Kagmi

Azhana knows she is special. The other children look up to her as she tells stories of fantastic adventures and great deeds. But her parents aren't always happy about Azhana's energy. They're terribly afraid that someday she'll get hurt while trying to make these adventure

• Language: English
• Publisher: Genetic Eve
• Release date: Dec 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733636391

Book preview

Prologue

The medicine woman looked up at the full moon with dread. Its light spilled across the valley below, crowning the trees and the river with silvery light. It was beautiful. But she knew what it meant.

Babies often chose to leave their mothers’ wombs when the moon was round and the night was almost as bright as the day. But the only mother able to deliver a baby tonight was Ushma. And Ushma’s birth was not a happy prospect.

This mother wanted a baby so badly, even as her hairs began to turn silver and white like the moon’s light. That made the disappointment all the more painful: ten times now, Ushma had delivered a baby with no life in it. Blue and silent, her infants departed for the spirit world before they departed Ushma’s womb.

Ushma’s disappointment was crushing, every time. So the medicine woman had no joy on this night, when another stillbirth seemed likely.

As though in answer to her thoughts, the sounds of scuffling and moaning approached her hearth in the mouth of the cave. The medicine woman turned to see that Danir was helping Ushma walk towards her. Water was dripping down the pregnant woman’s leg. The medicine woman’s breath caught in her throat.

Grandmother, said Danir, Ushma is ready. His face held the intensity of feeling that only a parent’s could. His face was lined and weary from years of disappointment - and yet, star-bright with hope and wonder.

The medicine woman looked at the baby’s father, her dark eyes locking onto his. Her gaze asked if he knew what was coming. His eyes held stubborn, defiant hope.

Most men did not join in the process of birth, a women’s mystery. But given Ushma’s history of loss and sorrow, she needed all the support she could get. The medicine woman knew that Danir needed help grieving, too. And so, Danir had been in attendance for the last three births.

Ushma wanted a baby more than any woman the medicine woman had seen. With each stillbirth her desire only grew stronger. The medicine woman wondered why the gods denied her, but the omens she sought only said be patient.

The medicine woman had to wonder if the omens were wrong. Soon, Ushma would be too old to grow a baby at all.

Medicine woman, Ushma breathed, with a twinkle in her eye as she lowered herself onto the birthing furs. This one is different. You will see.

Medicine woman smiled gently and wiped the sweat of labor from Ushma’s brow. Yes, dear. She glanced anxiously up at the Moon. Send her some relief, she prayed. This mother deserved to have a baby, and this might be her last chance.

The birth was easy, as was often the case when a woman’s body had had many babies. The memory of what to do stayed with the body, helping in all ways. The medicine woman was barely needed as Ushma’s body repeated the old, familiar rhythms.

Almost there, my dear, the medicine woman breathed. The baby’s head was now crowning, showing itself to the world. It looked pink: a good sign, but one that had disappointed her before. Soon she would know if this time would end in tears, like all the others.

Ushma gave a big push, gritting her teeth with the pain of it. Then she gasped in a deep breath. The pain was gone as the baby left her body and rested in the medicine woman’s arms.

A tense silence fell around the fire. There was no sound but for the crackling of the sticks and showers of sparks in the flames.

Sweat was dripping from Ushma’s head. It soaked her thick, dark hair and created small curls where the water stayed. Danir was behind her, supporting and encouraging. He kept his eyes on Ushma’s face, hopeful and expectant, as she stared at the small bundle in the medicine woman’s arms.

You’ve done a good job, Danir whispered to Ushma. Your part is finished now.

The silence stretched on. The medicine woman turned the baby over in her arms. She was big and pink with life, and warmer than the others had been. But still, she did not move or cry.

The medicine woman’s heart began to sink. Perhaps this baby had waited until the last moment before birth to depart for the spirit world, leaving her body warm.

But then, a small movement drew the medicine woman’s eye. All at once, the tiny body stretched and spasmed. The infant’s mouth opened to let out a wail:

"WAAAH!"

At the sound of the loud cry, all three adults around the fire jumped. The medicine woman’s eyes grew wide. Even at other fires around the cave, people looked up with shining eyes.

She had done it! Ushma had delivered a live baby, at long last! And now the clan had a new member. What would this little one grow up to be?

"WAAAAAAH!"

Even the medicine woman was surprised. This baby had strong lungs. She already sounded like one much older. There was no possibility that her cries would go unheard - even, it seemed, by the gods.

Laughter and smiles erupted throughout the cave as the reality set in. This birth was time for special rejoicing. Two parents who had wanted a child for so long had finally had their prayers answered.

The medicine woman glanced around the cave to see people quietly preparing dried fruits and rare herbs, preparing for the sort of celebratory meal that this great event deserved. They would let the gods know of their gratitude with joy, and the mother would get a taste of each and every dish.

The medicine woman’s own job was not quite done. She gently wiped the baby’s skin with soft rabbit fur and began to rub her with a mix of beeswax and sheep’s fat. This sacred potion would form a protective barrier against the harsh winds outside, which could steal life from any baby left unprotected. The potion would keep the baby’s skin soft and smooth, and protect her against dangerous spirits for many weeks to come.

Ushma was squirming, her arms outstretched. Tears of joy made her face wet, and Danir’s too. She was eager to be allowed to hold her baby. Be patient just a moment longer.

At long last, the medicine woman placed the potion-protected child into her mother’s arms. Ushma and Danir’s faces shone with joy.

While the parents were absorbed in the wonder of their baby, the medicine woman slipped something out from beneath her own furs. It was a bracelet made of beautiful, polished green stone. She had doubted whether Ushma would ever get to wear such a bracelet: the bracelet that marked someone as a mother, one who had created a new life.

You were right, Ushma, the medicine woman told the mother as she carefully lifted her wrist and slipped the bracelet over it.

This baby is different. This baby has been long-awaited, and carries the strength of ten within her. We shall call her ‘Azhana,’ meaning ‘greatness.’

Chapter 1

"Ushma stumbled, almost losing her balance. Behind her, the lion roared. She summoned one last burst of strength, scrabbling up the boulder at the base of the mountain. She found herself faced with a sheer cliff face.

"With nowhere else to go, Ushma turned to face the beast. She hefted her spear in one hand. The lion was the size of many men. Its sharp teeth glittered in the sunlight.

"Ushma hefted her spear, and -

Azhana!

The story’s spell was broken by her mother’s voice echoing through the cave. The younger children looked around, confused. Their eyes still shown from the excitement of the battle they’d been listening to.

Azhana! her mother called. I want to speak to you. Now.

Azhana looked around at the younger children, scowling. How unfair that they would have to wait to learn how this story ended. It would have been so much better if they could hear it from start to finish. She was teaching them to be strong and brave. She was teaching them what it was like to face a lion.

But her parents, she knew, wouldn’t see it that way.

Azhana stood up reluctantly. The other children took that as their cue that this story time was over. They looked up from the dark corner of the cave where they’d gathered, away from the prying eyes of adults. Some looked annoyed, but others were already distracted by new games.

Azhana’s mother was the oldest woman in the clan to have a child so young. That meant she carried special authority, as elders always did. Her hair was silver, like the moonlight, and her face lined with worry and care. At times she could be very stern, for she had seen much loss and grief.

But now, her expression softened as her daughter approached. When Ushma smiled at her only daughter, her round face really was like the Moon. Azhana smiled back. She knew that her mother was as warm as the Sun and as gentle as a mother deer.

What have I told you about telling stories? Her mother asked, trying to remain stern.

Azhana sighed. You told me to make them - realistic - mother.

And why did I tell you that?

Because… Azhana glanced behind her, a mix of guilt and defiance in her expression. If I tell wild stories, the other children may believe that they can do wild things. And then someone could get hurt.

Exactly. Her mother’s voice grew stern for a moment. We wouldn’t want any of the little ones to try to take on a cave lion by themselves, would we?

No, mother. But, if they had to -

If they had to, her mother