Sassy's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Sassy tipped the clay jar upside down and shook it. Only dust fell out. The sacred medicine was gone. He needed it to open the doorway a lost human's spirit had to pass through. Without it, the seeker who waited in his cavern would stay asleep to the world inside them. Sassy was a sasquatch. His whole purpose was guiding humans through this rite. Now his hands were empty. The seeker had walked days to find him. She lay curled by his cold fire, waiting for the ceremony. Sassy could not tell her the truth. He set the empty jar down and pushed through the trees toward the one place that might help. The traveling market had rolled in that morning. Its carriages stood in a loose ring, draped in striped canvas of green, orange, and red. Lanterns swung from hooks. Traders called out over baskets of roots, jars, and dried herbs. Sassy moved between the wheels, sniffing for the sharp, earthy smell he knew. He found it at a low stall. Behind the counter waited a broad, brown animal with a flat bill and a thick tail. The platypus tapped a webbed foot on a sealed pouch. Inside was the medicine. Sassy's chest loosened. "I need that," Sassy said. "A seeker is waiting. I have nothing left." The platypus slid the pouch back. "Nothing left means nothing to trade. I don't take promises, big one. I take goods." Sassy patted his empty belt. He had walked out with only the dust jar. He turned to leave, then stopped. Near the edge of the market grew a willow. Its long branches hung low. Water streamed down its trunk from a carved, sorrowful face. Real tears. Sassy walked to the tree and cupped his palm under the drip. He remembered an old teaching. Grief that runs pure can open a heart as well as any root. He filled the empty jar with the willow's tears. He carried it back to the platypus. "These are true tears," Sassy said. "They carry sorrow. A seeker who drinks them feels her own buried pain rise up. That opens the doorway just the same." The platypus dipped one webbed finger in and touched it to its bill. Its small eyes widened. It slid the medicine pouch across the counter and took the jar of tears. "Deal," the platypus said. "But you owe the tree, not me." Sassy hurried back through the trees, the pouch warm in his fist. The seeker still lay by the ashes. He knelt and opened the pouch. The medicine was real and full. But he had traded away the willow's tears without asking the tree. As he crushed the first pinch of medicine, a low sound rose behind him from the market. The willow was weeping harder now, and its cry was climbing toward a wail.