Zadayi Red

by Caleb Fox

  “Let’s find them,” he ordered. He crossed the river—easy now that an ill fate wasn’t striking at him—and started searching downstream.

  The Galayi code was fixed. Warriors never left the bodies of their comrades to be mutilated by enemies or desecrated by wild animals. They buried them respectfully and moved on.

  As Inaj found nothing and nothing and nothing, not even the corpse of a dog, he turned grim. He told himself that his fellow soldiers were cursed with the fate his daughter had barely escaped. Under his breath he wailed his apologies to his two comrades for this unforgivable sin, sending them naked, empty-handed, even mutilated into the Darkening Land.

  Late in the afternoon the four survivors gathered back at the fire. No one had seen any sign of the missing men. They were drowned or crushed by the ice.

  “Maybe they are with Those Who Live in Flowing Waters,” said Wilu.

  Inaj kept himself from giving a snort of disgust.

  Galayi people told stories of these small creatures who lived in creeks and rivers, commonly called The Little People. They were said to be beautiful, shaped just like Galayis but only knee-high. Though often mischievous, they had magical powers and would help Galayis who got lost or into other trouble. Their special power was protecting Galayis who performed the purifying ceremony Going to Water. Sometimes these little people appeared in desperate battles and saved the Galayi from defeat. The Little People were tricky, though, and you had to be careful in your dealings with them. If you tasted their food, for instance, you would never be able to eat human food again.

  As a boy Inaj used to look for the Little People near rivers, and he had spent an entire teenage summer hunting for springs where they might live, because the places water emerged from the earth were sacred. He still hoped to find one. But he had no patience with a man who appealed to them for help. His creed was that a warrior depended on his arms, legs, and heart, and those alone.

  Before the men could get started on their tales of the Little People, he told them curtly, “Sleep while the sun is still up.”

  Then he disappeared into the forest. Shortly after dark he came back with the hind leg of a deer in each hand. “I got these without Little People helping,” he said. As his warriors ate, he could see their energy coming back and their spirits rising.

  When the meat was gone, Inaj stood up, looked at the river, and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Now?” said Zanda.

  Inaj glared at him. He didn’t like having his decisions questioned, even by implication.

  “They have a day’s head start on us,” he said, “and they’re getting near the village. We’ll make it up by walking through the night. And you won’t get so cold.”

  Zanda took a step back.

  Now Inaj grinned at his men recklessly, and his eyes glittered like ice. “Let’s run this murderer down.”

  Just go, said Su-Li.

  Sunoya wasn’t sure. “It’s a full day away,” she said. “They might catch us.”

  Get moving, returned Su-Li.

  She pursed her mouth. The Immortals had chosen her for the task of saving the child of prophecy, delivering him to his father. Why? What if she couldn’t do it? She flexed the fingers of her right hand, the one that bore the curse no one knew about, except herself.

  You know the one thing Inaj says that’s true? Su-Li went on.

  “No.” Her voice sounded petty and resentful, even to her.

  When your life is at stake, don’t dither.

  He flashed that red-yellow eye at her. Go!

  “Okay, you listen to me,” she said. “Fly to the village. Go to the hut of the Red Chief.” That hut’s door would be outlined in red, for victory. “Make your rasp at Ninyu. He’ll know who you are—everybody knows. Tell him to bring help.”

  She turned her back and got down to business, lashing their robes and remaining scraps of meat onto Dak. Without looking at Su-Li, she planted one foot in front of the other and tramped the downstream trail.

  Su-Li lifted off. He would do his job.

  “I’m worn out,” Sunoya crabbed out loud.

  From the height of the mountain Su-Li told her, You are a medicine woman on a sacred mission.

  She padded faster.

  Inaj’s power was more than strength and endurance. It was the ability to inspire other men to them.

  He and his four warriors ran all night, slept for a little while in the first warmth of the morning sun, and ran again. Stride, easy stride, long-legged stride, stride forever. Inaj believed he had strength enough to turn a seven-day trek into three days. The Soco village was a two-day walk down the river from the ford. He thought he and his men could catch any woman, even after a day’s head start. He pictured the village. If she got there first, she would poison everyone against him.

  Every couple of hours he called a pause to drink out of the river. At these times he said very little.

  “Today we do it.”

  “We’re going to get them.”

  “I never wanted anything so much.”

  Stride, stride, stride.

  Damn this mortal realm! Su-Li flapped hard downriver and cruised to Ninyu’s house. He was not only the Red Chief, Su-Li knew, but Tensa’s father and the Hungry One’s grandfather. The buzzard was anxious—fear, the cursed drumbeat of life on Earth, made him want to wring his own neck.

  In the middle of winter the family would be sitting close to the warmth of their fire. Sunoya said Ninyu had pale hair and white skin. Some of his fellow villagers were leery of him. But in a fight he was a dervish. The warriors of his village had made him Red Chief because he awed them, and half-frightened them.

  The buzzard saw the hut with the red-framed door and landed on the mud roof. The curs scurried over and yapped at him. Su-Li hated dogs. He knew it was unbecoming for a spirit animal to hate any Earth creatures, but dogs were pests.

  Su-Li a-a-arked at the smoke hole and blew the smoke away with his wings. It would probably be the strangest halloo Ninyu had ever heard. The albino lifted the flap, looked at the buzzard with ironic eyes, and conjured up a half smile. “Sunoya’s spirit animal,” he said, nodding to himself. He carried his club. If that didn’t kill you, his sickly white skin would scare you to death.

  Su-Li couldn’t think what to say. How the devil am I going to get this done fast?

  He nodded his head up the river several times, the way the people did when they wanted to point. Ninyu came into the open, looking puzzled. A good start. But the Red Chief searched all around with his eyes. No, no, follow me. Even good human beings were slow to catch on. Su-Li pecked the door flap.

  Red Chief Ninyu held out his arm, Su-Li landed on it, and they ducked inside.

  Ninyu’s wives and children chattered and shrieked and retreated to the back wall.

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” said Ninyu, “but this has to be Sunoya’s new spirit animal. He’s trying to tell us something.”

  Tensa regarded Su-Li suspiciously. Spirit animals were oddities, sometimes useful, but in the view of practical men not to be trusted.

  Su-Li sailed to the ground and hopped around the center fire to Tensa. He stood sideways to the young father and fixed him with an eye. Pay attention! Unfortunately, Tensa couldn’t read the buzzard’s thoughts.

  He pecked Tensa’s belt knife. The young man jerked it out and threatened Su-Li with the edge.

  “No!” said Ninyu.

  Su-Li nodded his head to the knife several times. He felt like an idiot, like he was bowing to war, the greatest curse human beings had invented.

  The two men, two wives, and all the children looked at the buzzard with frightened eyes and open mouths.

  Su-Li hopped to where a spear hung from a wall on thongs. Not caring whose it was, he flapped up and pecked it. He looked at the two men. He flapped up and nudged it again.

  Ninyu got an idea. “Su-Li, where is Sunoya?”

  You’re catching on!

  The buzzard hopped to the door flap, nudg
ed it open with his beak, and looked back at the two men. His eye was baleful.

  They followed him out.

  A dog charged Su-Li from the back of the house. The bird skittered up the wall hissing and clucking. Two dogs scratched at the wall as if they could climb. Su-Li screeched at them and launched himself into the air. This place is maddening.

  He hurled a reminder at himself—Sunoya! He made a raggedy turn back to fly over the heads of Ninyu and Tensa. When he knew he had their attention, he flew to where the river trail merged into the village, flapped back to the two watchers, swooped low over them, and winged back to the trail head again.

  “He’s telling us Sunoya is up the trail,” said Ninyu.

  “And in trouble!” said Tensa.

  Now Ninyu let out a war cry that hurt every ear in the village. Tensa ducked back into the house to get his other weapons, and his father’s.

  Men popped out of their houses pulling on their moccasins, grabbing a club or a spear in each hand. Ninyu and Tensa whirled their war clubs over their heads and led the charge up the river.

  14

  Sunoya felt like she was running on legs that were twigs, bending and about to break. She’d always been fast, able to outrun all the girls and half the boys. She told her body to remember now how it felt, gliding over the grass . . .

  She crashed to one knee and nearly crushed Dahzi in the muddy track.

  The two dogs ran on a dozen strides, stopped, looked back, and whined.

  She got the aching knee propped underneath her and checked on Dahzi. The poor creature was whimpering but not squalling.

  “Good boy, good boy,” she said. The poor child hadn’t had a sip from Mother from dawn till now, midmorning. He dozed sometimes when she walked, but most of the time Sunoya trotted and Dahzi squirmed.

  She hoisted herself and trotted forward. “This is stupid,” she rasped.

  She tripped on a rock and splatted down again.

  Su-Li circled high overhead. She didn’t have to look up to see him. She could feel him. She rumbled forward.

  He landed on her shoulder. The Soco men are coming, he said. They will protect you.

  “Go back and look for Inaj and his devils,” she told him.

  Don’t have to, said Su-Li. I just saw them from overhead. Right behind you.

  She started to fall and caught herself. She ran a dozen steps, put off asking, and ran fifty steps. Then she decided not to ask at all. What did it matter how far back her enemies were? She would run until she fell into the arms of the Socos or collapsed onto the hard earth and waited to be pierced by a penis or a spear. She ran, ran, ran.

  You will survive, said Su-Li.

  She shook her head violently. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  The child will survive.

  The cry came from behind. “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  Sunoya tumbled straight to the ground.

  “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  It was the Galayi war cry, famous far beyond these mountains and feared everywhere. Strong and determined soldiers of enemy tribes, even when they had superior numbers, heard this cry and quailed. One or two would run. The Galayis would charge, hurling the cry at men’s hearts. A half dozen more would run, and then entire phalanxes would break out of cover like hunted birds and flee.

  And the Galayi men would kill them from behind.

  Yes, they can see you, screamed Su-Li into her mind. She confused it for a moment with the wild hissing that came from his throat.

  She got up and staggered forward.

  “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  The cry made her blood turn to snakes. The first syllable was low and mysterious, the second high, eerie, ululating, the last a short woof. Then four roars of terror.

  She ran but she wobbled.

  “Change to an eagle! Take the child!” The words were a plea.

  This is your mission, said Su-Li.

  She ran crookedly.

  “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  Su-Li launched off her shoulder and wing-flapped high and fast.

  The Soco men are coming, too, he said. Not far.

  Sunoya started to ask which crew was closer. Then she cackled at herself. She knew.

  She weaved sideways, banged a shoulder into a tree, got her footing back, and ran.

  Why not die running?

  The child of prophecy, the medicine bearer . . .

  Dak stopped and cocked his head. Suddenly he sprinted back, barking like an entire pack.

  “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  Dak barked louder and sprinted harder.

  Sunoya started to turn and look but caught herself. As she forced another step forward, pain ripped through her right thigh.

  A spear plonked into the wet earth in front of her, quivering.

  Sunoya grabbed its shaft to cushion her fall.

  Now, even more fierce with elation, “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  Sunoya crashed onto a hip, protecting the child, and then spraddled onto her back.

  Su-Li landed on his mistress’s belly and faced Inaj. The Red Chief was out in front and in full charge. “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  He raised his war club. A few strides and he would crush Sunoya’s head.

  Su-Li hissed a warning.

  Inaj laughed. “Her damn buzzard!” The words swirled with mad laughter in his head. “When I rape her, that will get rid of you. Then I can watch her die at my leisure.” He cocked his war club.

  “Ow!” The buzzard had grabbed his forearm.

  He planted his feet and knocked the buzzard away. Except the damn bird didn’t go.

  Inaj dropped the war club and snatched it out of the air with the other hand, a trick he’d practiced hundreds of times. He roared in Su-Li’s face and swung.

  He found out how hard it is to hit a bird with a club.

  On the ground Sunoya laughed out loud. “You can’t even whip a bird!”

  “There’s one easy way, bitch!”

  He jerked loose the knot that held up his breechcloth and leggings, and stood naked.

  “Look at that!” Sunoya shouted, pointing. “Su-Li, eat it! It’s barely a snack, but eat it!” Even to herself her laughter sounded insane.

  Beyond Su-Li she saw Inaj’s other three men charge up, bearing the certainty of death.

  Su-Li swooped and pecked at Inaj’s manhood.

  Inaj hopped around and hollered.

  Sunoya yawped out her own version of the Galayi war cry. Why not? “Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”

  An answering cry came—“Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! Woh-WHO-O-O-ey! AI-AI-AI-AI!”—from the other direction.

  Wilu, Zanda, and their companion veered off the trail and into the woods. Inaj took a look and scrambled after them.

  In a moment Sunoya was surrounded by a score of Soco soldiers.

  Tensa bent over her. “Sunoya, are you all right?”

  She giggled. Hell, no, I’m probably bleeding to death.

  She sat up, lifted Dahzi, and said, “Tensa, I present you a great gift. Your son. We call him Dahzi, the Hungry One.”

  Tensa took the child and held him up. The new father’s face transformed, as from moon to sun. He hoisted the baby high overhead.

  “Father,” said Tensa, “this is my son!”

  “Noney’s child?” asked Ninyu.

  Sunoya sidestepped the question and its terrible answer. “Look,” said Sunoya, “the fingers of his left hand are webbed.” Ninyu came and peered. All the men’s eyes fastened on the webbed fingers.

  In the forest Inaj grabbed Wilu by his breechcloth and hauled him down. He wrenched his son’s spear away and spit out a fierce whisper. “Silence!”

  He crept downhill. Cataracts of rage heaved him forward. I will kill Sunoya.

  From the trees he saw the girl who pretended to be a medicine woman s
till sitting on the ground, surrounded.

  Tensa—goddamned Tensa!—stood over her and held something high.

  Inaj peered, commanding his brain to understand.

  A naked baby. A boy. His damned grandson.

  His rage cocked his arm and snapped it forward. The spear hurtled out from the green pine needles.

  It pierced Tensa’s back, slammed through his body, and sprayed blood out of his chest.

  Tensa stood still for a moment, held by nothing more than sunlight. Then he collapsed onto Sunoya’s legs. She screamed, and caught Dahzi in her arms.

  TWO

  Coming Apart

  15

  It was unspeakable. The Soco soldiers bore Tensa’s blood-drenched body into the village, singing a song of grief for a fellow soldier.

  Sunoya was limping from the rip in her thigh and woozy with fatigue. Ninyu carried his tiny grandson. Sunoya’s heart sang a bass grief for Tensa and a treble rejoicing that she and the baby had set out on a difficult journey and arrived alive. As she asked the Immortals to guide the spirit of the fallen young man to the Darkening Land, she thanked them for the miracle of saving the life of the medicine-bearing boy child. Her emotions poured up and down, waterfalls going opposite directions. Her legs wobbled.

  Tensa’s sisters rushed out of their house and raised up cries of grief so intense Sunoya couldn’t bear to listen.

  A neighbor woman three times as old as Sunoya saw that the medicine woman could barely stand up and led her into her own house, helped her lie down, poulticed her wound, and gave her some food and water. Then she went out and came back with the child and Mother, and put Dahzi at the dog’s tits.

  When Sunoya was a child, this crone had been a neighbor, and she was gabby. Sunoya liked gossipy women and mustered up the energy to get her to chatting. “Five daughters in a row, then finally a son, one only son, now he’s gone, ain’t it awful?”