Page 25 of Hummingbird and Kraken

Ro laughed while he spread an old sheet on the ground on one side of a blueberry bush and gestured for Declan to do the same on his side. Once the sheets were set, Ro shook the bush vigorously and the blueberries rained down.

“Wow! I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time. I thought people picked them by hand.”

Ro smirked. “Tourists do. Can you imagine how much work that would be on a farm? Give it a shake on your side. Make sure to get all the branches.”

Declan soon fell into the rhythm, shaking, pulling the sheet, and shaking again until they reached the end of the row and went back again.

“Alright,” Declan started. He had a million questions, but he was going to try to pick just one. “So was that story supposed to mean something? I mean, to me, personally? I couldn’t figure any of it out. Is that, like, a heart-singer thing to tell stories like that?” Alright, so maybe not just one question.

Ro shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t…” he winced, then walked to the next row of bushes, clearly looking for a distraction. Declan followed, putting out the sheet on his side. “Askuwheteau is trained as a storyteller, and he’s also the heart-singer who leads the tribe. The Guide, I suppose you would call him. I don’t know what he meant by the story, though.”

They moved the sheet to the next bush and shook the branches.

“So, the Guide is the leader? That’s different from the Chief?”

Ro thought for a moment before he replied. “Our tribe comes from many nations, blended together. But all of them were matriarchies. The women distribute the food and select the men who are the leaders, for both war and peace. Over time, in this community, that changed so that the heart-singers, male or female, took on the matriarchal role. Our current Guide is the Chief’s father.”

“You distribute the food,” Declan thought out loud. “Are you a heart-singer?”

A range of complex emotions crossed Ro’s face. “No, ah, I’m not. It’s, um, pretty rare among men. It’s usually more of a woman’s role.”

Ah. “Well, I think you would be a great heart-singer.”

“Yeah?” Ro asked hopefully. Then he shook his head, his face closed off. “It doesn’t work that way.”

Declan wondered if that was actually true. He’d had the same sort of thoughts in high school about his gender, until he realized he had other options. His heart hurt for whatever Ro was going through.

“So, um, are there other powers and identities?” he finally asked.

“There are healers. People who can help mend bodies faster or detect illness. Then there’s another gift. People who have it are called…” he thought for a moment, “something like One Whose Strength Gathers the People. Strength-sharers, you could say in English. They have the power to communicate over distances, and even orchestrate plans in others’ minds so that they can lead in battle. I’m a strength-sharer.”

“So, you can, like, talk to people from far away?”

Ro shrugged. “It’s more of a feeling, something hot right here.” He touched the base of his throat. “If I think of someone else, I can tell where they are, as long as they’re close. I can communicate simple ideas. But my gift is fairly weak.

“Kayla, who you met today, is the strongest strength-sharer in the tribe, which is part of how she got her role. The Chief must also be a gifted strength-sharer. Though again, the gift is not the only way positions are appointed. A Chief is selected for his ability to hold peace, and to help others know truth in his presence. He is… expected to marry a heart-singer. That person becomes the next Guide.” Ro stared off into the distance, as though stating a hard fact.

Oh. That was shitty. “So…” Declan started slowly, not wanting to be cruel, “is that the only person he can marry?”

“It is… It has always been that way. The Chief and the Guide work as partners, so that the tribe can be strong within and without. But usually, also, it is how attraction works. Those who share strength are attracted to those who sing the heart. Our legends say they are matched by the spirits.”

“Ah… And has Tier, the Chief I mean, found the person he’s matched to?”

Ro looked defeated. “No. But he travels often. He works with other tribes and organizations across the country. He will find that person eventually.”

“That sucks. You know, there are fiction books that have something like that,” Declan mused aloud while he tried to make sense of everything. “They’re supposed to be fated mates. There's usually an alpha and omega wolf, I guess.”

Ro blew out an exasperated breath. “That is how it is with the white people. They think strength should be used to control and that emotions make you weak. They subjugate their heart singers, like they do women and anyone with darker skin or another language or religion. Anyone they can control.”

“Yeah,” Declan agreed. That was so often how it worked. He’d had his own gender policed and ridiculed enough. “So are, like, heart-singers the omegas and strength-sharers the alphas?”

Ro rolled his eyes. “Sure, if you want to call it that. It doesn’t even make any sense with real wolf pack dynamics. And did you know that all European shifters are wolves? Or at least as far as I know. They seem to be the same as any of our shifters, and I’ve seen white people shift into other forms when they’re raised away from wolf packs. But I guess when you only value physical strength, everyone has to be a wolf.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. “So, is that how it works? You kind of grow into the form that fits best for you and your culture? The white people control it more and you get a choice?”

“As far as I can tell.” Ro thought for a moment. “Not Geir, though. He’s different.”

“Really? How?”