Olivia (66 page)

“You have a mate, and so do I.”

“All those weeks I waited for Cheyenne,” he mused.  “Never knowing if she was ever going to let me touch her.  All that time, I thought of you, dreamed of you, ached for you.  When she let me lie with her, I thought it might be the same.  It wasn’t.”  Now he faced her.  “Will you meet with me in secret?”

Just like that, Olivia thought.  Just as though he were asking her to tea.  She honestly did not know how to answer.

The silence dragged on, and he dropped his gaze and shrugged.  “You have a mate I could never compete with, and would not, even if I could.  I have Cheyenne.”  He winced.  “But I will learn to be content with this.”  He started to move away from her and she followed, shining the light on his heels.

“Why?” she asked finally.  “Why me?  Amy is smarter.  Ellen is prettier.  Hell, lots of them are prettier, so why me?”

“Why?”  He kept walking and did not look at her.  “Because even in the worst of your pain, you took me in your arms and filled my empty heart.  It was the first time I ever felt as though, in loving a woman, I was loved.”

Now she felt guilty.

Sensing it, he added, “I never meant to have these feelings.  I tried to deny them, but they are always with me.  Sometimes, when I look at you, I see you through other eyes, in another place.  I see sand all around us, and at your back is the water—more water than I have ever seen in my life.  There are waves, much larger than the waves in a lake.  And you are kneeling there beside me, so beautiful.  You bend over me and you are smiling.”

He reached the wall and reached back for her.  She twined herself around him and he began to climb to daylight.  “Strange,” he murmured.  “But when I have this vision, I am more patient.  Almost as if I think that I will actually have that time with you someday.”

“Anything is possible,” Olivia conceded.  “But don’t expect it in the very near future.”

“No,” he agreed, working his way steadily upward.  “Too much has happened unexpectedly already.”  He climbed in silence for several seconds, and then added, “Still, there is a mystery that surrounds you, Olivia.  And I have been a part of that mystery.  I will be a part of it again.  I am certain of it.”

The trouble was, so was she.

BOOK II

THE GREAT SPIRIT

CHAPTER ONE

DARK MOUNTAIN

1

All morning, gullan came in from the cold to the slightly less-cold hub which would be the new commons.  The strong fliers were kept busy ferrying their flightless kin and other supplies as the day dragged on, while the rest of them slept.  Olivia and Kodjunn together collected ancient candles wherever they found them in the abandoned lairs and began to light the tunnels from the entry shaft to the commons, from the commons to the waterway, and anywhere else that Olivia thought might be useful.  At her direction, some of the other women—gullan and human together—began to clean up a little, lighting the many hearths in the commons, preparing hot broth for their exhausted people, and arranging what furs they had into sleeping spaces.  By nightfall, it had begun to feel at least a little like home.  She knew it was nightfall only because Doru came in with the last of them, saying, “You should see it out there, Vorgullum.  There’s not a spark to be seen but the stars in the sky.”

“No humans?”  Vorgullum asked, brows climbing.

“None.  I don’t know what we’ll do for
rua
,” Doru added heavily, fingering his spear with a brooding frown.

“Does that mean we can fly by day?” someone asked, and all the tribe looked at Vorgullum.

“I won’t answer until I better know this land,” he said at last.  “For now, no.”

There were murmurs, but what little disappointment came with them seemed forced.  Olivia supposed she could understand that.  There had been enough sudden changes.

“We will sleep here tonight,” Vorgullum said, looking around.  “Tomorrow is soon enough to claim our lairs.  Is there a place to put the women?” Vorgullum asked next, directing his question to Olivia and not to Horumn, she noticed.

“We found the kitchen,” she answered uncertainly.  She’d even lit the way there, thinking that it would make a good dumping ground for all their supplies until they’d managed to sort everything out.  “I didn’t explore much further than that.  I don’t know if there are any lairs around it—”

“It will do.  Horumn, settle your charges and see that the safe females are made available.  Have I any hunters able to fly?”

He had a few, all of them with human mates to feed, and Olivia doubted that was coincidence.

“And I want you to rest,” Vorgullum concluded, bumping his brow lightly against Olivia’s. 

“I don’t think I can just sit around and do nothing yet.  I’ll help the women settle in, okay?”

He frowned, but gave her a reluctant nod.  “Don’t wander,” he told her.  “I don’t know this mountain.”

“I promise.”

He nodded again with greater confidence, then found a spear and raised it to Doru and the others.  “Our last hunt as the tribe of Hollow Mountain,” he called.  “When we return, we feast as hunters of…Dark Mountain!”

There were some cheers, but they were lackluster at best.  It had been a long journey and while sentiment might run high, they were all tired.  If Vorgullum was disappointed in his tribe’s reactions, he did not show it, but only made a gesture to gather his hunters and led them out.

“God, I hope they find something,” Amy remarked, watching them go from the shelter of Kurlun’s arm.  “It’ll be a hell of an omen if they don’t.”

“Hush, my mate.  Bad luck can find its own way in.  We don’t need to invite it.”

“Want to help out?” Olivia asked hopefully, offering Amy a flashlight.

Amy looked at it, then at her.  “Honey, you know I would—”

“It’s okay.”  Olivia lowered the light self-consciously, trying to smile.  “It’s been tough.”

“And Junior here is really doing some gymnastics tonight.  Maybe when he, she or it settles down.”

“Murgull?”  Olivia found the old gulla sitting by herself, her eyes shut as she rubbed restlessly at her left shoulder.  “Do you want to see where the women’s tunnels will be?”

“If I did, I would be there.”  Murgull opened her eyes to glare at her, then slid them shut again.  “I’ll see them soon enough, won’t I?  Little pest.  Leave old Murgull be.”

Olivia retreated, a little hurt, then went to Horumn, who certainly seemed to have her hands full trying to organize the many women, including weeping Bolga and half a dozen others much like her.  “Can I help?” she ventured.

Horumn’s face screwed up, but she didn’t spit.  Instead, she seized Victoria from the throng surrounding her and thrust her into Olivia’s arms.  “Take this.  No one walks alone, you maggots!  Find a friend!  If you have no friends, find an enemy!  Take all you can carry!  Go!  Yawa, help me!”

Victoria blinked at her slowly, without recognition.  Her eyes were glazed; her skin, death-cool and ghastly to touch.  Olivia had to resist the urge to wipe her hand after letting go of her.  Instead, she found a pack of supplies light enough for her to carry and headed out.

They were the first, and they were not immediately followed.  Olivia walked and Victoria plodded complacently beside her, arms dangling, staring.  It was awful.

“Where are we?” Victoria asked, after several minutes had passed in uncomfortable silence.  Even her voice was dull and dim.

“We’re in the new mountain,” Olivia told her, stomach knotting.

They walked.

“What…What happened to the old one?”

“We had to leave.”  Olivia looked at her despairingly.  “We’ve been flying for days, don’t you remember?”

“I thought I was dreaming.  I…dream.  Sometimes.”

“Didn’t you even notice the cold?”

“It’s always cold inside me,” Victoria said, and it was the last thing she said during the rest of that walk.

When they reached the honeycombed caverns at the end of the tunnel, Victoria found a bench and sat, staring slackly into the palms of her hands while Olivia cleared rusted pots from the cooking hearth.  She’d just gotten the first fire lit when Horumn arrived with Bolga firmly in her grip.  “So,” the old gulla said, giving the cavern a dour looking-over.  “Smaller than the last one.”

“This is just one of the cooking chambers,” Olivia pointed out.  “There are three others adjoining it.”

“Bah.  Leave that!  You and all your hairless kind are useless with fires.  If you want to help, stay out of my way.  Yawa! Find a place for the safe ones to do their rutting!  It’s a new home, new mountain, new world; there’s not a man out there who won’t want his prick gripped tonight.  Crugunn, stop your chattering and get to work!  Thurga, you and Rumm go back for the supplies and bring it all here.  If we gave them a chance, those stag-heads would take it all and leave us with nothing.”

“Yes, Eldest.”

“Yes, Eldest.  Furluu, Golgun, this way.  If you have that one, I have Chugg,” Yawa said, and took a flashlight to explore the nearest side-passages.

Olivia followed her with Victoria, trying not to stare too overtly.  Even after all this time, Olivia hadn’t had the opportunity to really speak with Yawa.  She rarely left the women’s tunnels, so their paths seldom had the chance to cross, but Olivia had often wanted to meet.  Yawa had something of a notorious reputation, one that was perhaps even more formidable than Olivia’s own.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she ventured as Yawa shone her flashlight through first this doorway and then that.

“Is it?” the gulla said indifferently.

Furluu and Golgun, the two ‘safe ones’ who could take care of themselves, exchanged glances first and then giggles, although they quieted when Yawa glanced back at them.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” said Yawa in a cold voice.

Olivia didn’t try again.  She could remember well enough Bundel telling her they said Yawa was all ice and claws, but she was good, and maybe it was true, but she sure wasn’t going out of her way to prove it.

They looked at two more caverns and suddenly Yawa stopped and swung around.  “All right,” she said tightly.  “What have you heard?”

Caught out, Olivia could only stammer at her.

“I thought so.”  Yawa started walking again, her jaw clenched with anger.  “Who was talking about me?”

“Bundel.”

Yawa stopped walking, so suddenly that Furluu bumped into her.  After a moment, she started again, now sending Olivia troubled, sidelong glances which continued off and on while they investigated several more caverns.  “This should do,” she said at last.

“It’s a kitchen!” Golgun protested.

“That’s right, it’s a kitchen,” Yawa shot back testily.  “You have running water to clean up in, a hearth of your own in a communal space, and six adjoining chambers—one for each of you and two to spare.  In fact, you’re going to have a hell of a hard time convincing Horumn to let you keep it, so why not stop complaining and start settling in?”

Chagrined, Golgun and Furluu took possession of the other two women and Yawa turned away.

“Wait, shouldn’t we help?”

Yawa wasn’t waiting for her, but just kept walking.  “It’s their place now, let them do it.”

It was either follow or stay and stare down Victoria while the other safe ones unpacked whatever supplies they needed to make the Red Light district of their new mountain more comfortable.

Olivia followed, running a little to catch up.

The walk was long, dark, and silent.

“Bundel told you about me.”

“He said you were a good person.”

Yawa grunted.  After a while, she glanced at her and said, “What else have you heard?”

“People don’t seem to like you much,” Olivia said.  “But no one talks about why not, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hm.”  Yawa walked on for a few more minutes in silence, and then abruptly said, “I had the red fever when I was in my first days.  It makes a she-child barren, if she survives it.”  She uttered a little grunting laugh.  “The old leader actually told my mother to put me with the other female children so that they would catch it as well.”

“Jesus!” Olivia gasped.  “And what if it killed them?”

“Dead or barren, still they make no new young.”  Yawa turned to spit.  “My mother cut her claws across his face for the asking and hid with me deep in the mountain until the fever was gone.  But the damage was in me.  I grew, knowing what must happen to me.  I was full of rage in those days.  I cursed the Great Spirit for making me this…this receptacle for the heat of an entire tribe.  I could feel them watching me every day that brought me closer to my first season and to the right to mate with me.  When it came on me, I asked old Murgull to help me.  And she did.”

Yawa laughed a little, as if still surprised after all these years.  “I was frightened of her my whole life.  That terrible face!  That terrible tongue!  But I had no female family living by then…and I did not know who else to ask.  I thought that she might kill me in a kind way, but instead she saw to it that the ritual of the Journey was performed before witnesses and got me out of the mountain unseen.  Females don’t go on Journeys.  It isn’t exactly forbidden, but it is unheard of all the same.  If the leader could have stopped me, I know he would have.  I was afraid that he would set his hunters after me, so I flew far to the south and lived alone beneath Urga’s moon.

“When I returned to Hollow Mountain, by the laws, I was a hunter, with the right to demand one gift of the old leader.  I demanded the right to stay forever out of the Eldest’s care.  That is why the males of the mountain do not like me,” she finished, tossing her short horns with a fierce smile.  “Because I refused to open myself to every goat-head with a scrap of meat to feed me.  The old leader gave me his fist and would have sent me to the Eldest anyway, but old Murgull put her hand on me and so he let me go.”

“That’s all she did?  Put her hand on you?”