Win focused on a vision of the bushy little cub. He smiled. “He’s alive. I have a Finding.”
“Can you tell if he is well or ill?”
“No, but we can Find him and make sure. We’ll have a skin of healing water and can put three drops in their watering hole. I also want to Find Siv and make sure her sister’s arrow didn’t hurt her badly.”
Win carefully dunked the water skins into the water and filled them with the precious water. He wanted to suck the drips from his fingertips, but just then Lady Kala barked. Her tail was curled high, and she bounded about from one black stone to another, snapping at glittering dust motes. Her coat wasn’t silken as it had been the first time he saw her, but her bearing was just as regal and proud. With a laugh he shook off the water and corked the skins. “Let’s go!”
They followed the south corridor through the black stones to the path by the cliff, then descended to the prairie. Win set a brisk pace, anxious now to get back to Hazel and G’il Rim. They traveled until darkness forced them to rest, then at first light began again. The miles dropped away as the morning sped by. Noon found them near the burned-out prairie. Soft winds had blown steadily from the southwest all day, pushing the fire to the northeast, where dark smoke still streamed into the sky. Win thought it would reach the Great Rift soon and burn itself out.
Buzzards were busy at the corpses of the wolves. Win and Lady Kala scared them away.
“He was a noble wolf,” Win said quietly.
“He saved my life,” Lady Kala said. “We must help his son.”
Win followed the Finding for the cub, and they found the wolf pack late that afternoon in a shallow hollow close to the grotto. Only a dozen or so wolves had escaped. Win and Lady Kala tried to approach them, but the new wolf chieftain, a large white wolf with smoky gray eyes, stood stiff-legged and growled at them.
“Look at the cub.” Win pointed to the black cub that had yellow eyes like his father. He was playing tug-of-war for a bone with a smaller cub.
“They won’t talk to me,” Lady Kala said.
Win stood beside her, gazing at the wolf pack. There was something —
“All the old wolves are gone. Have any of these wolves ever worn the collar?”
Lady Kala saw his point immediately. “They have returned to the wild. It’s the first generation in years and years that hasn’t known the slavery of the Wolf Clan.” Lady Kala’s eyes were shining. “Win, I will help you deliver the water to G’il Rim; then I want to return here.”
“You are free to choose,” Win said quietly. he choked back the arguments that sprang to mind. Instead he watched the wolf cubs wrestle and play. After a time Win followed the stream to the spring in the grotto. He filled his own waterskin first with drinking water, then put three drops of healing water into the spring. “At least we can make sure your pack starts healthy,” he told Lady Kala.
At dusk they left the pack’s territory and headed toward the Wolf Clan’s village. As the sun set, they heard the wolf pack howling, preparing to set off for the evening hunt. Lady Kala froze at the first sounds and stood quivering until the wolves were out of earshot.
As they neared the village, the grasses were untouched by the fire—as tall and fragrant as ever. Win was thankful that the village had been spared. They decided to sleep for a few hours and try to Find Siv alone in the early morning hours. Lady Kala found a valley of soft grasses. Win made torches to use in the waterfall tunnel against the tatzelwurm and stashed them in his pack. Then he mounded golden plumes of grass to make a comfortable nest, and they slept.
Win woke to a sky full of glittering stars. He gently shook the Tazi hound, and they slipped silently through the dark toward the light-colored thatched roofs that were dimly visible. Win avoided the open path between the houses and crept from shadow to shadow, following his Finding for Siv. He stopped at a large house and waited, listening at a window. When he heard only silence, he climbed over the windowsill and dropped inside.
THE WOLF CLAN
A small fire glowed in the center of the room, and around the outer perimeter were sleeping platforms. Siv slept in the one closest to him, but Win had to make sure no one else was in the room. He glided along the wall, checking each bed: all empty. He stopped at the window again and said telepathically to Lady Kala, “She’s alone. Do you want to come in?”
“No. I understand why you do this, but the woman is still vulgar. I shall wait here.”
Win turned to the sleeping figure. He put a hand on her forehead. It was burning hot!
Siv moaned. “Who’s there?”
“Shh! I’ve brought you healing water.” He pulled the smaller skin of water over his shoulder. He could just put a drop of water on the wound, but he thought with the fever that giving her a drink would be better. He found a clay cup by the fire and filled it with water from a bucket near Siv’s bed. Then he took the skin and put a single drop into the cup. It was more than enough if three drops in a well would heal the entire village.
Siv tried to sit up. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was hoarse.
“Shhh!” Win cautioned again.
But Siv was too feverish to understand. “Valda, is that you?”
The door opened, and Valda entered. “Siv, what’s wrong—You!”
Win was silhouetted in the open window, and Valda had recognized him. “Here, drink this.” He held the cup to Siv’s mouth.
Valda crossed the room in a few strides and knocked it from his hands, splashing it onto the floor. “What was that? Poison?”
“No, healing water from the Well of Life.”
“You lie. There is no such Well. All you have brought us is lies and death. She won’t live another day unless her fever goes down.”
Win moved toward the window, but Valda blocked his way.
“We need you—as a scapegoat,” Valda said.
“I haven’t caused your troubles,” Win said, “But I can heal Siv. Let me give her some water.”
Lady Kala called to him telepathically. “What’s going on? Is that Valda?”
Win answered her silently. “Yes, I need a diversion to get away.”
Valda snatched the small skin of water from Win, pulled out the stopper, and emptied it onto the fire. The coals sizzled, and the red glow winked out.
“No!” Win could have wept at the waste.
Outside Lady Kala howled like a wolf. “Ar, ar, arooo!”
It was so realistic that Win shivered and wondered if the wolves were really in the village.
Voices shouted: “A wolf! In the village!”
“Where?”
“Catch the wolf!”
Valda pushed Win aside and peered out the window. “What have you brought with you?”
Win saw his chance. He grasped her ankles and tipped her out the window onto her head. Then he grabbed the small waterskin and ran for the door, calling telepathically to Lady Kala as he ran, “Meet me at the well, close to the pavilion.”
“Hurry!” she called back.
He dodged through the outer room of the house and into the streets. The village was in pandemonium: people running and shouting, carrying torches that made moving pools of light and grotesque flickering shadows. Win ducked back behind the house and ran toward the well.
Bright torches lit the pavilion, leaving the well just outside the ring of light. Win circled the pavilion, hiding in the short grasses and waiting for Lady Kala. A moment later, when her cold nose touched his hand, Win jumped.
“Valda wouldn’t let me give Siv any healing water. We’ve got to put some in their well,” he told her.
The Tazi hound sighed. “I can’t dissuade you?”
“ I can’t leave the Wolf Clan without healing water. I’m already taking away their amulet; I have to leave them something. I’ll try to sneak up and put water into the well. Then we’ll run for the waterfall and the tunnel down into the Rift.”
“What if Valda anticipates that and reaches the tunnel before us?”
> “I don’t know. We’ll just have to make sure we get there first.”
“Be careful.”
“If we are separated, I’ll see you at the waterfall,” Win said.
He crawled through the grasses, keeping one eye on the noisy gathering in the pavilion. Overhead a group of bats swooped at the moths attracted by the torchlight.
Valda came striding down the village path and into the building. “It was Winchal Eldras and his hound. They have the Wolf Head. We must catch them!”
She organized a search of the village, house by house. Four stout warriors led four groups, one starting the search at this end of the village, one at the opposite end, and two to start at points in the center of the village.
Win continued his stealthy movements toward the well. So far no one had come near him.
Valda looked over the rest of the villagers. “Scatter into the grasses at the edge of the village, starting at this end. Walk slowly and make lots of noise. If Winchal and his hound are hiding, you’ll drive them toward the Rift where we can trap them. If you have weapons, meet me at the other end of the village.”
Villagers scattered, some running to homes for weapons, some for noisemakers such as a copper pot and a stick, others into the grasses to start flushing out the enemy.
Win froze when he saw an old man coming toward him. But the toothless warrior just shambled past, mumbling about a spear.
Win crawled again until he almost reached the bare dirt circle around the well where no vegetation grew because of too many footsteps. He paused, looking for more cover.
A skinny blond boy, only four or five years old, trotted out of the pavilion, pulling his mother with him. “I’m thirsty.”
“This isn’t the time to draw well water. We have to catch that man and his hound!”
“But, Mama, I’m thirsty.” The boy stopped in front of the well, put his hands on his hips, and waited.
The woman signed and stepped toward the well. Win crouched in a clump of feathery-headed grass, just outside the ring of light from the pavilion. A dark shape zipped in front of the woman’s face, a bat diving for a moth that followed the woman’s torch. She squealed, then danced about, swatting at herself to make sure the bat was gone. She stopped right in front of Win. Her eyes grew wide.
“Here! He’s here!”
Win leapt to the well and turned the skin upside down, shaking it furiously. One drop fell, then another. The woman tried to snatch the skin away. She knocked Win’s elbow, and he almost dropped the skin.
Another precious drop fell onto the ground. Win cried in frustration, “No!”
The boy ran around to join his mother and kicked the back of Win’s knees, making his legs buckle. He grabbed the edge of the well and shook the skin again. A final drop appeared on the lip of the skin. Win waited a long second, afraid to shake the skin and make the drop—probably the last drop—fall outside the well. From every direction the Wolf Clan converged on the well.
Still Win waited. He had to give them healing water even if they didn’t understand what he was doing. The mob was closer, too close. He had to leave or be captured.
Finally the water drop fell straight down into the well.
Done! Now he could concentrate on escaping!
He threw the skin at the onrushers and turned and raced into the tall grasses. A quick Finding told him that Lady Kala was already on her way to the waterfall. He led the chase in the opposite direction for a few minutes, hoping to trick them into coming that way. But he kept a Finding on Valda.
Valda followed a short distance but soon slowed, then stopped. Win guessed she would be gathering a group to head them off at the waterfall.
Win doubled back toward the waterfall and raced, fear lending speed to his feet. But even as he did, he realized he couldn’t get there fast enough. Valda had a head start and would reach the waterfall before him.
THE CHASE
Dawn, the seventh since Win and Lady Kala had left home, was coming once again. It would take them at least two more days to cross the Rift—if they could escape from the Wolf Clan. Would the Prince still be alive?
Win racked his brain, trying to figure out how to get down the cliff without going by the waterfall and risk facing the tatzelwurm, but he could think of nothing. The large skin of healing water was held by a leather strap that crossed his chest. He must make sure Valda didn’t get a chance to empty it, too. If he couldn’t get away from the Wolf Clan, he must get the skin home to Hazel somehow.
He was running along the river now, and the waterfall sounded faintly in the distance. Above the dark riverbank, white wisps hovered like ghosts. Lady Kala was ahead of him, maybe under the willow tree where Siv had captured them. But Valda was heading for the tunnel leading into the Rift.
“Lady Kala, try to get to the tunnel before Valda!” he called to her telepathically.
She didn’t answer, but from the Finding he knew she was racing to beat Valda.
Win was panting, but he dared not stop. He followed Lady Kala’s trail through the grasses, and his sense of danger grew with each step: Lady Kala and Valda would reach the tunnel at the same time. He had to hurry!
The sun loomed over the horizon, and it seemed that Win was running straight for it. He was in the open, and the Rift spread before him. He stopped. He’d lived with the Rift for years, and this was the first time he’d been out of sight of it for several days. Its grandeur and beauty startled him anew. There was a vast expanse of almost endless sky, before finally, almost out of sight, the other cliff. Perched there so tiny and perfect was G’il Rim, glowing in the dawn’s light. Home.
The Finder’s Bell rang, calling him home.
Home!
Only two more days. Would they be too late?
Out over the Rift, birds were soaring, silhouetted against the pink sky. Of course! He could ask Paz Naamit to carry the waterskin to Hazel!
He stood on the edge and called to her. “Paz Naamit!”
Would the golden eagle hear him? But the sound died quickly, lost in the vastness of the Rift. The other cliff face was so far away that the sound couldn’t even reach it to echo back. Win’s desperation grew. Somehow he had to get this skin of water home.
He turned toward the tunnel and pounded on. Behind him roared the waterfall, and before him he heard shouts. He ran through an eddy of sweet-smelling grasses and wildflowers. The dew soaked through his pants until they stuck to his legs. The waterskin bounced crazily against his chest, but now it had shifted until each bounce made it hit the Wolf Amulet that still lay under his shirt.
Then he saw them. Valda and Lady Kala faced each other with the tunnel entrance between them. Beside Valda were a dozen members of the Wolf Clan, all carrying spears or knives or bows. Every weapon was pointed at Lady Kala. Win sprinted across the field, yelling. Before him a small herd of the jackrabbit-size deer bolted from where they had been lying hidden in the grasses. The deer ran straight for the tunnel before turning abruptly to run away from the Rift.
“Deer!”
“Food! Quick, shoot one!”
Several Wolf Clan warriors chased after the deer herd, shooting their arrows or throwing spears. Win saw one doe spring into the air, stumble, then stagger up, an arrow in her rump. The Wolf Clan roared, and a few more joined the chase. In the confusion he slipped around to stand beside Lady Kala.
Only three warriors stayed with Valda. Maybe they could defeat such a small number or just avoid them altogether.
He called telepathically to Lady Kala, “Into the tunnel! I’ll follow with torches against the tatzelwurm.”
She took a dainty step toward the dark hole.
Valda drew back her hand. “No!” A knife hurtled toward Lady Kala. She swerved, but the knife thumped into her right shoulder. Blood trickled onto the silver fur of her paw.
Valda had attacked a royal gazehound! Cold fury gripped Win. He knelt beside Lady Kala and pulled out the knife.
“It’s just a slight injury,” she said.
Win brandished the bloody knife at Valda. “You want to fight? Come on. Fight me.”
He slipped around the tunnel on the side closest to the Rift.
Valda motioned for her companions to stay back. She pulled out another long-bladed knife. “I’ll fight you, but only for the Wolf Head.”
Win pulled the amulet from under his shirt and held it up. The red jewel eyes flashed in the early morning sunshine. “Here it is. Come and get it—if you can!”
At the sight Valda’s green eyes warped and twisted with a fierce bloodlust. Her lips curled back, and she howled. “For the Wolf Clan!” She was more a vicious animal at this moment than any of the wild wolves that Win had watched yesterday.
The Wolf Head would destroy her, Win thought. She wouldn’t be able to control it as Siv had.
Valda leapt for Win and bowled him over. They grappled and rolled—toward the edge of the Rift.
THE FIGHT
Valda was a natural fighter, but Win had the advantage of experience wrestling the men from the caravans. He grabbed Valda’s shoulders, controlled his fall, and threw her over his head. Both rose, shaking their heads like great beasts, and faced each other again. Win crouched and waved the bloody knife in front of him.
“I’m coming!” Lady Kala called to him.
“No! Just keep the others off us,” Win said. He heard her growl and knew he could concentrate on Valda without worrying about being back stabbed.
Valda and Win circled each other, watching for an opening. The wolf woman feinted to the right, forcing Win to jump backward. She slashed back to the left. Win almost escaped the blade, but the point of it barely caught the waterskin on his chest. It poked a tiny hole. Precious water dribbled onto the ground. Win dropped the Wolf Head, trusting the leather string to hold it. He put the flat of his palm under the waterskin and held it straight out from his chest. It couldn’t leak in that position, but now Win had to protect both the waterskin and himself.
The Wayfinder Page 13