People of the Nightland (North America's Forgotten Past) (42 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear,Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: People of the Nightland (North America's Forgotten Past)
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When he got close, Keresa stepped out and smiled. “You should be home playing hoop-and-stick with your son.”
Homaldo stopped in front of Keresa and took her hand in a strong grip. “We thought you were all dead! It’s good to see you alive.”
“Of course we’re alive,” Kakala said indignantly. “Do our Elders judge me so poorly?”
Homaldo’s smile faded. “No, War Chief, not at all. I’m not supposed to be here. And if Nashat learns that I have come, the cages will be a merciful alternative to what he will do to me. Kishkat, Tapa, and Tibo are searching the caves for the woman Skimmer. We found her on the trail, and …” He glanced away. “We thought you were all dead, War Chief. But we took her to the Guide.”
Kakala narrowed an eye. “With an eye to saving your necks, no doubt.”
He gestured to the bandage on Kakala’s head. “It must have been a tough fight.”
“Windwolf jumped me at the last instant, but we got him. Even without your help.” He pointed to his head. “I have been unable to travel.”
Keresa added, “We’re still hunting down a few survivors. We should be headed home tomorrow or the next day.”
“With Windwolf,” Kakala said, and lifted his chin proudly. “I will personally be bringing him back alive as a gift to our Elders.”
Homaldo smiled broadly. “They will be glad to hear it. It’s another piece of good news.”
“Another?” Keresa asked.
Excitedly, Homaldo said, “Just before I left, the Elders came out and told us that the Guide has found the hole in the ice! We’re all packing to return to the Long Dark.”
The warriors sitting around the fire behind Kakala gasped and turned to listen.
Windwolf’s dart pressed into Kakala’s kidney. He winced and said, “Have you heard from Karigi? Where are Windwolf’s warriors? We’ve been expecting them to show up at any time.”
Homaldo spread his arms. “The news is mixed. They destroyed Hawhak’s war party. He, his deputy, and the rest are in the cages. Nashat says that because of their disgrace, they cannot accompany the Guide to the Long Dark.”
“And Windwolf’s warriors?”
“Karigi sent word that they all fled west. Karigi attacked three more camps and is herding tens of captives to the Nightland Caves, where he’s been ordered to set up a pen for them. And Deputy Ewin’s war party is on its way here. He should arrive tomorrow.”
From the corner of his eye, Kakala saw Windwolf’s expression slacken, as though he’d just heard his own Death Song being sung.
“Why is Ewin coming here?” Kakala demanded. “Do the Elders think I am so incompetent that I require
his
assistance?”
Behind him, his warriors responded to his outrage by shifting disgustedly. Moans and curses laced the air. He wanted to kiss them.
Homaldo wet his lips nervously. “War Chief, I don’t know. But there is a rumor that you had been captured. I, well, I’d die for you. We cast gaming pieces to see which one of us would come to see if it was true. I won the honor.”
Anxiety tingled in Kakala’s chest. If Ewin was headed here, Nashat knew of his failure.
Hawhak and his warriors are in the cages! They cannot accompany our people?
Kakala sagged against the cave wall, which forced Windwolf to pull his dart back. Unfortunately, he resettled it on Kakala’s spine. “Homaldo, I want you to run home immediately and tell the Elders we will be right behind you with our ‘gift.’”
Keresa pointed a finger like a bone stiletto at Homaldo. “And tell my clan not to return to the Long Dark without me.”
Homaldo frowned. “I’ll have to figure something out. I’m supposed to be searching the caves for Skimmer.”
“Why?” Kakala asked. “This part, I do not understand.”
Homaldo lowered his voice. “The guard at the Council is my cousin. As we were entering the caves, he told me that Skimmer was accused of plotting to kill the Guide. But in the Council, she accused Nashat of misdeeds. And then, after the Elders left, Nashat threatened the Guide. Skimmer protected Ti-Bish! Dared Nashat to try and harm him!” He blinked. “Can you believe that?”
Kakala and Keresa traded glances, and Kakala felt the dart point fall away, as if Windwolf had lost interest in holding it against him.
Kakala took the opportunity to step forward, out of visible range of the dart. “When it comes to Nashat, I can believe anything. Kishkat was there the night the Guide freed me. Ask him.”
Keresa said, “War Chief? Perhaps it would be a good idea if Homaldo met Ewin? He could save him the trip here, urge him to hurry home and prepare to follow the Guide?”
Kakala gave her the expected look of irritation and said, “Homaldo, can you find Ewin?”
“I think so, War Chief.” He frowned. “But who will carry your message to the Elders?”
“One of these lazy warriors back here.” Kakala barked, “Washani! Bring Homaldo some of that meat to stuff in his pack. We have plenty.”
“Yes, War Chief.”
Kakala took a gamble, and walked over to clap his hand on Homaldo’s shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. We all appreciate the risks you have taken on our behalf. I would ask you as a favor, find Ewin. Tell him the rumor of our capture is a lie formulated by the Sunpath. We are fine, and he shouldn’t waste precious time coming here. By the time he arrives, we’ll almost be home. Can you do that?”
“Yes, War Chief!” Homaldo cried with a grin. “Especially if it keeps me out of Nashat’s way!”
A chorus of shouts rose behind him.
Washani emerged with a pack stuffed full of meat. He cast an inquisitive glance at Kakala, as if expecting some instruction, like,
Run off with Homaldo and tell him the whole story.
“Thank you, Washani,” Kakala said. “That will be all. Go back and fill your lazy belly.”
“Yes, War Chief.”
Kakala watched Homaldo turn and trot back down the trail. He called, “Find Ewin!”
“I will!” Homaldo waved over his back.
The Lame Bull warriors eased from the shadows with their nocked atlatls up.
Windwolf stepped forward and peered over Kakala’s shoulder, watching Homaldo until he vanished down the trail. His voice came out unsettlingly soft. “That was good thinking.”
Kakala blurted, “Well, someone had to save all of our skins. You’d just better hope Homaldo finds Ewin.”
“The Guide has found the hole!” warriors called back and forth, excitement in their eyes.
“Yes!” Kakala snapped. “And Hawhak and his warriors aren’t going!
The Council has heard that we’ve been captured. If they believe it, we’re not going either!”
They stared at him soberly.
Kakala turned. “All right, Windwolf. The other night, you said that when we could talk like men, we should talk. Perhaps that time is now.”
“What are you thinking?” Windwolf asked.
“I’m thinking it’s not a coincidence that the Guide finds the hole in the ice just after your Dreamer warns of a great flood.” He looked down at his fingers. “My people live on the Thunder Sea. Have you ever seen what happens when a mountain of ice falls into the water? A huge wave washes everything before it. My family died in one of those.” He smiled wryly. “Perhaps, as you said, our war is insignificant.”
At that moment, a low rumble rolled over the land; the ground shook. Kakala could see the warriors glancing nervously at the rock over their heads. Bits of gravel pelted them.
And then it was gone.
W
indwolf watched Fish Hawk climb up the trail. “Did it all go well?”
“They did exactly as Kakala ordered, War Chief. They walked right up to the hole and climbed down. I have already sent warriors to bring them robes and firewood.” Fish Hawk fixed him with curious eyes. “War Chief, are you sure this is a smart thing to do?”
Windwolf turned and fixed him with knowing eyes. “I just met with Lookingbill. He understands that Homaldo may not be able to find Ewin. At Silvertip’s urging, he reluctantly agreed that it was time to leave. I want every person packed and ready to move by first light.”
“You mean, before Ewin’s war party arrives?”
Windwolf nodded. “We can’t fight them, Fish Hawk. We have only a few adult warriors; it’s not enough. And our young warriors will fall like dry grass before a powerful hailstorm. You know it as well as I.”
Fish Hawk swallowed hard, gaze inexorably drawn to the children playing at the base of the rock shelters. He could hear their laughter rising on the gusts of wind. “This has been my home for all of my life. The idea of leaving … it just doesn’t seem possible.”
Windwolf asked, “Can you do it, War Chief?”
Fish Hawk nodded. “I can, but … where will we go? The Tills? I know nothing about them. My clan has been here forever.”
A powerful gust of wind swept up the slope, and Windwolf’s short black hair blew around his face. “I need to talk with Kakala and Keresa.”
Fish Hawk jerked a nod. “My people will be packed by first light.”
“And, in case I forget, you make sure you have a screen of scouts out. It wouldn’t do to stumble into Ewin’s war party on the way.”
“Of course, War Chief.” He hesitated. “Do you need guards for your talk with the Nightland?”
“No.” He smiled at the irony. “Not anymore.”
As Fish Hawk trotted away, Windwolf eased down on a flat rock and closed his eyes. So much had to happen so quickly.
 
 
S
kimmer followed Ti-Bish along the sandy shore of the fiery lake, her way lit only by the luminous streamers that snaked through the water. The Ice Giants who stretched high overhead groaned, and the very air trembled with their pain. New cracks, like black lightning bolts, had split the ceiling since the last time she’d been down here. Some were over two tens of body lengths wide.
“Ti-Bish,” she called, frightened. “Where are we going?”
“It’s not much farther. Are you tired?”
They’d been walking for a long time, though she could not say just how long. The lack of sunlight and darkness left her completely bewildered. “No, I’m not tired; I’m just concerned. Won’t your Elders wonder where you are?”
He shook his head. “They’re busy packing for the journey. They know I’ll return.”
In the damp air, his two black braids had turned frizzy, but his dark eyes glowed as though a blaze had flared to life in his soul.
He pointed. “Do you see the bones ahead?”
Skimmer looked to where he pointed.
“That’s the Monster Bone Trail,” he explained in a whisper, as though the long-dead beasts might hear him. “I want you to see the path.”
Skimmer’s mouth dropped open when they walked through the rib
cage of a huge animal; the bones arched over her head. From snout to tail, the beast must have stretched at least five or six body lengths. “What is this creature?”
He shrugged and stepped around a human skull. “One of the monsters that lived just after the creation, I think.”
As Skimmer passed another human skull, she stared into the dark eye sockets, wondering who the man might have been. Another Dreamer? Someone else seeking the hole in the ice?
Then she saw the ax. It had been laid on an ice shelf. She stepped over, and picked it up, looking back at the skull.
Was this yours? A tool no longer needed?
She hefted it, staring at the handle. The wood had been carved with long grooves and drilled with dots. The binding, made of sinew, was crusted with frost. The stone head had been set in a Y in the wood and daubed with pitch. It had been chipped from a translucent brown chert she’d never seen before. She pressed her thumb to the sharp edge.
How long had it been since this had rested in human hands? Tightening her grip on the handle, she followed after Ti-Bish.
They walked in silence until Ti-Bish said, “There. Do you see it?”
“What?”
He gestured to the dark cavern ahead. A river spilled out through it and ran into the fiery lake.
She said, “It’s a river.”
Ti-Bish frowned at her. “Yes, but … that’s the hole.”
“The hole?” she said in confusion.
“The hole in the ice. We must go through it to get to the Land of the Long Dark.”
Terror crept up around her heart. She stared at him. “That’s it?”
He smiled tenderly. “Yes. That’s it. It’s a difficult journey. It will take many, many days, but—”
“How do you know how long it will take? Have you made the trip before?”
“Oh, yes,” he murmured. “In a Spirit Dream. Raven Hunter took me.”
“It’s cold water, Ti-Bish. Walk in that for more than a couple of hands’ time, and people’s legs will go numb. If someone trips and falls, they’ll be wet clear through.You can’t stop and make a fire to dry out. The children will die first.”
“Raven Hunter will find a way. Perhaps, at the last moment, he’ll divert the water.” He searched the ice roof over their heads, as though expecting to see Raven Hunter swooping down to speak with him.
Skimmer pulled her cape more tightly around her shoulders and shivered. “Have you seen him lately?”
“Yes, often.”
“Ti-Bish, doesn’t it frighten your people when you tell them that?”
“Does it frighten you?”
“I … I don’t know.”
He bowed his head and smiled. “Skimmer, every man walks away from the herd sometime. When he chooses to stand alone in the meadow, he knows the predators will see him. He also knows they will be waiting. There was a time”—he hesitated—“a time when I moved too far from the herd. I’ll never do that again. I only tell my people what they need to know. It keeps them at bay.”
How strange that he thought of his own people as predators. But why wouldn’t he? It had been only ten summers ago that he’d been a homeless outcast, loathed by almost everyone, chased from village to village.
They walked closer to the black cavern, and Skimmer said, “You once told me that you’d brought me here to pray with you. But we haven’t prayed together. Not yet.”
He stopped and looked at her with luminous eyes. “Prayer is … not what you think. Not what most people think. It isn’t begging the gods for something. It isn’t undertaken to enlighten, or bring tranquility. It is an act of service done for the sake of the world. If people truly work to maintain harmony, the world will stay in balance. If they don’t, the Spiral of life will tilt, and everything will wither and die.”
Sorrow tinged the last few words, and tears welled in his eyes.
“Is that why there’s been so much war and sadness? The Spiral has tilted?”
“Yes, Raven Hunter has been trying to bring it back into balance, but his evil brother won’t allow it, and that’s why we must go back.”
“Back to the Long Dark?”
“Yes, back to a time before the brothers fought. Back to a time before they were even born.”
As though in response, a deep agonizing groan shook the Ice Giants, and massive slabs of ice cracked loose from the ceiling and crashed down. When they splashed into the lake, brilliant sprays of
light burst into the air. Waves washed high onto the shore, wetting her to the knees. She felt the sand slide under her.
Skimmer lurched back against the wall, panting like a hunted animal.
Ti-Bish just smiled. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “The pain is almost over.”

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