by K. J. Colt
I put the items back in my bag and headed for the frozen streams. I passed through crevices and scaled mountainsides, supporting myself with pine trees and boulders. Snow shook loose as I swung on the limbs of trees. I’d been here many times before. I knew the quickest way in and out of the valley. I stared up at the incredible mountains, each one higher than the one before it until the tips disappeared into the mountain mists.
To my right, gently sloping hills created a bowl shape where water collected and turned into a half-frozen river. I placed each foot carefully as I descended. My ankles and toes ached from the cold. I had spent many years exposing my body to frozen lands, but the desire for warmth could never be completely overcome.
At the bottom, fluffy pillows of snow sat on the frozen crust. I took out my dagger and stabbed the ice. Crack. Broken fragments parted, revealing the liquid underneath. I scooped some into my mouth. No unusual flavours registered. After boiling, the water would be drinkable.
I stepped around the thinnest parts of the ice and made my way back to the embankment. Snow bears lived on rabbits, fish, and other small creatures; they also ate snowberries and roots. Because the snowtime was so close, the bears favoured fish. The Death Valley River travelled south through the mountains. In order to follow it to the ocean, one had to cross the peaks, which had never been done. Fish were heading downstream to the ocean before the river completely froze. In order to catch the fish, the bears had to find parts of the river that had not frozen over.
I looked farther ahead. Trees covered the lower parts of the mountainsides. As the sun moved across the sky, it bathed the smaller peaks in a yellow light, and water droplets glistened on branches nearby. I’d always loved morning time. A fresh day felt clean and new.
I walked along the river until the sun sat overhead and ice no longer covered the river completely. The snow was turning to mush, and brown dirt peeked between patches of white. I heard a crack and watched a block of ice move downstream. I snapped the straightest, longest branch I could find, sat, and carved and sliced until I’d cut the stem into a smooth shaft and sharpened the end. I jabbed at the ice, knocking away large slabs. Fish swam by, and my stomach growled. I stabbed at one. Missed. Stabbed again.
A freshwater spotter flopped on the end of my spear. I rested the stick beside me and yanked off the fish, a decent meal for one person. I smacked it against a rock until it stopped flapping and tucked it away for later.
I kept moving.
A wolf howled in the distance, and I crouched and cocked my head, holding my breath and listening. Thixal watched me from afar. I thought about Skelkra. Contestants could only kill each other after they’d claimed their prizes, but the point of the challenge was to get back to Vilseek first. Of course, the others could always make the challenge more difficult. They didn’t need to kill for that, and I, being the biggest threat, would be a likely target.
I looked east towards the hawgrald nesting grounds approximately a quarter-day walk away. The clouds were low, and I couldn’t see the cliffs, let alone the birds. I knew Jeykal was there. The others would be near, too. Lild, the Snake boy, would be after a water snake. Hard to catch. I wondered if he was already downstream where the river ran stronger. He’d have to swim in the river.
I’d rather kill a bear, I thought.
Then I heard the familiar growl that rippled through my body like lightning, heightening my senses. A bear! My heart raced. My muscles flexed, and goose bumps dotted my skin. I crept into the tree line away from the river, went up the mountain, and kept in the shadows. I used roots and shrubs for footholds. Then came a more subdued growl. Definitely a snow bear. I stepped between the trees, keeping my footing light and my mind calm. After a hundred or so paces, I saw a white figure playing in the distance.
As I neared, five more appeared. Cubs sat in the shallows, swatting at the water and biting each other. When they grew more boisterous, a boar pawed and growled at them, as they were scaring the fish away. I chuckled, and for a moment, I felt sad at the idea of killing one. Ruxdorians respected all animals and never hunted for pleasure, only for survival. Although some men took pleasure in the hunt, they used every part of the animals’ bodies.
Another sow appeared, her fertile stomach swollen. Sows gave birth during the snowtimes, and the cubs suckled safely in a cave until springtime, when their mother took them on their first hunt.
I moved closer. If I had arrows now, I could easily hit one, but an arrow would only hurt the bear. If it was tipped with poison, then the bear might fall. Regardless, my bow was for hunting food for myself, like rabbits and deer. Somehow, I had to kill a bear with my dagger. That meant getting dangerously close. The thought put my stomach into knots. Snow bears were large, with feet the size of my head and claws sharper than my dagger.
‘Pssst,’ someone said.
I turned to see Skelkra looming in the shadow of a pine farther up the incline. Like me, he wore no shoes, and his only clothing was a loincloth. When I found myself staring, I looked away. Something lustful stirred within me—the same desire from last night—and distracted me. I frowned. I needed to win. I had to keep focused on the fight.
Snow crunched as he stepped closer, and I remembered the words of Gevilka, the medicine woman. Beware the wolf that shows you his fangs.
‘What is your prize?’ I asked, noticing he had a hunting knife lodged in his cloth. His other belongings were nowhere to be seen.
‘Wolf head.’
‘Me too. A bear.’
He frowned. ‘They expect you to carry that all the way back to Vilseek?’
I shrugged.
He took another step towards me, and I tensed. Could I trust him? A twig snapped to my left, and I narrowed my eyes to see Abel, an elder from the Snake tribe, making his way down the mountain behind Skelkra.
Skelkra smirked at me. Thixal moved up to join Abel. They whispered to each other.
‘I’ve been walking all day,’ Skelkra said.
‘Me too.’ I guessed that meant he hadn’t killed a wolf yet. For the moment, I relaxed and refixed my gaze on the snow bears. He wouldn’t try to sabotage my efforts, knowing how challenging my quest was already. And besides, we’d trained many hours together, and I was fairly sure he liked me.
‘How are you to hunt your beast?’ I asked, nodding at the knife lodged in his loincloth.
‘I must strangle it.’
I threw him an incredulous look and scanned his body. His upper torso bulged with muscle. His shoulders were broad, the muscles in his neck tight.
‘How are you to kill yours?’ he asked.
‘With a dagger.’
His eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. ‘You’ll die.’
I flexed my fingers and glared at him. ‘No, I won’t.’
‘Of course you will. Look at you. A bear is three times taller, two times wider and a hundred times stronger than you. You will have to kill it in one blow. That’s impossible, even for me.’
‘Well, I’m not you.’
He looked down at the bears and moved beside me. I focused on our nearness, which both exhilarated and worried me. My hand slid to the knife at my hip, sitting out of his view.
‘Why did they give you a bow then?’ He nodded at the weapon strung across my body.
‘To hunt food, I suppose. I don’t know.’
‘Do you have a plan yet?’
I scowled at him. ‘Of course I do!’ However, my umbrage was short lived as I gazed into his eyes. My face softened, and I wanted to smile. ‘A cub won’t do. A sow would be too ferocious. Like you, I will set a trap. For a male maybe two or three years of age.’
He smiled, showing me a straight row of teeth. ‘Good.’
Strangely, he moved behind me. His chest brushed against my back, his face floated over my left shoulder in the corner of my eye, and his breath tickled my skin. Ecstasy held my body captive. I couldn’t move. My legs trembled… my skin tightened.
‘I could help,’ he whispered against my
ear. He placed his right hand over mine, unwrapping the fingers that clutched the hilt of my dagger. He stroked each one as he did. I closed my eyes and imagined his hands on other parts of my body. His breathing quickened. It was warm and sweet, and I fought the urge to lean back into his arms.
I scrunched my eyes, took a deep breath, turned around, and pushed him away. ‘No. I don’t want your help.’ I swept my eyes to the Watchers, who’d stopped talking to observe our closeness. While their expressions were unreadable, I was sure they disapproved of what was blooming between Skelkra and me.
‘It’s not against the rules to work together,’ he said.
‘I know. But I need to do this alone.’
‘I worry the bear will…’ He looked away. His mouth pressed downwards, his eyes dulled.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, angry that I had to reassure him. Did he think I was weak?
Frustrated by the conversation, I took two steps forward, away from him and closer to my target. I considered the different options for the traps I could set. I could dig a hole, cover it with sticks and snow, and then encourage a bear to chase me over the trap. That would take a while. It would fall into the hole, and I could attack it from above. Alternatively, I could lay a meat trap. Food being scarce, the bears would be desperate for anything they could get their paws on. While it ate, I could kill it.
I removed my bow and plucked the string. I searched the hillside for saplings.
Skelkra knew what I was thinking. ‘I’ll help you make the arrows. In return, you hunt down food and bait. Agreed?’
I nodded. We scaled the massif. The trees grew thicker, and I chose three saplings with straight stems. Rabbits ducked under brush, and I heard a wolf cry in the distance. Skelkra angled his head to listen, and hunger formed in his eyes. I gave him a knowing smirk, and he smiled back. We found some flat ground and scraped away the snow. A cliff hung overhead, providing us a temporary shelter.
‘Why are you helping me?’ I asked. ‘I know how much it means for you to win.’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘We’re not enemies. The true test is in surviving the elements.’
‘That doesn’t make sense. We all know the hard part is killing the animal.’
He looked at the sky. ‘Snowstorms are coming. We’ve nothing to eat. No shoes. Our feet will freeze off, eventually. Our lungs could seize. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die. Don’t you see the danger?’ Skelkra pulled out a flat, dry piece of pine. ‘Found this before. Good for a fire plank.’
‘They didn’t give you flint?’
‘No. You?’
‘No.’
He looked at my feet and sniffed. ‘I thought so.’
My mind processed our previous conversation. Something niggled at me. I just wasn’t convinced that his concern for my life came from a place of genuine care. I knew he was attracted to me, but he had a reputation with other girls, too. Maybe it was both. Maybe he liked me, and he needed my help.
‘What else did they give you?’ I asked.
‘Not much. I am stronger than all of you, so it makes sense they’ve given me nothing.’
Hidden in that statement was a taste of the arrogance he was known for. But arrogance was expected in the future leader of any tribe. Confidence inspired confidence, and in terms of raw strength, yes, he was the strongest. However, he was slower than I was, heavier, and less flexible. When we’d wrestled, he could pin me, but I always managed to slip out of his grasp.
I snapped my spear in half, took the fire board from him, and carved out a groove. I picked up the broken stick and rubbed wood against wood. Minutes later, when I touched the fireboard, it was warm. I took the small sack from my bag and wrapped it around my hands to protect them from friction.
I continued to rub the stick back and forth while Skelkra made arrows. The wood became hot, so I frayed the edges of my knapsack, cut away the fibres, and scrunched them into a soft ball. I pushed them into the hollow of the pine. Skelkra took over for me, and I watched the muscles in his back tighten and relax as he worked the wood. I found some twigs to start the fire.
He observed my collection of twigs. ‘We’ll need something bigger than that.’ The wood smoked, and he stopped to blow on it.
‘Everything’s wet.’
‘Go farther up the mountain, then.’
I took two steps forward and then hesitated. My eyes swept back to Skelkra and then to my knapsack. Technically, we were in competition, and his comfort with our companionship during this experience made me cautious. Would he really take my things? I decided I would risk it, and I climbed up the incline. I found a dead tree sticking out over a ridge. I kicked at it until it snapped and dragged the log back to the fire, which had grown to a hand-sized blaze.
‘We need more twigs,’ he said.
This time, I went down the hill. I heard a loud splash in the distance. For a moment, I thought a bear had jumped in the water, but then I saw Lild, the Snake boy, pulling himself from the river. He clutched at his half-naked body and marched on the spot, trying to get warm. Water snakes were difficult to catch if you didn’t have a net. For a moment, I felt sorry for him, but then noticed he had a blazing fire nearby. They must have given him flint.
Skelkra flicked my back, and I spun around to find him very close. ‘You’re not focusing. Don’t worry about him or the others.’ His eyes settled on the boy.
‘Or you?’ I mused.
‘Well, that’s different.’
Splash. I turned back to watch Lild. ‘He has it hardest.’
Skelkra shook his head at me. ‘You have a knack for underestimating your own danger.’ He touched my arm. ‘At least let me stand watch while you fight your bear. I can intervene if your life is in danger. Death is worse than shame.’
‘And what about your shame? If your tribe learns that you helped me, they won’t trust you to lead. You’ll never bond to anyone.’
He grinned playfully. ‘Perhaps.’
His smile made my heart do little flips. Then he moved in, reaching two hands to my waist. His fingers were cold on my skin. I shuddered, but at the same time, heat enveloped me, and my chest tingled. I traced his collarbone with a fingertip, not sure whether to pull him closer or push him away.
I became self-conscious and looked at Thixal and Abel, who were staring at us. ‘They see.’
Skelkra’s eyes opened wide, his mouth parting slightly. ‘You’re ashamed of me. Of course you are.’ He stared at his feet. ‘You are the Bear. You could have anyone.’
I desperately needed to reassure him. ‘No, it’s not like that.’ I touched his face, gently raising his chin so our eyes could meet. ‘I must win, and my win must be flawless.’
He stroked my hair and cupped his hand around the side of my head. I nuzzled it.
‘Either you or I will win. Of that I’m certain. And it doesn’t matter which one of us, for eventually we’ll both rule together, won’t we?’
My eyes flicked to his. ‘You mean that?’ I held my breath. Finally, I was his, and he was mine.
His fingers traced around my waist and moved up my spine. He bent his elbows, moving in even closer. I closed my eyes, immersing myself in the feeling that satisfied me yet made me want more.
He stopped at my shoulders, grabbing them with firm hands. ‘Yes.’
Gently, I grasped his wrists and pushed his hands away. I pointed back up the mountain. ‘Before the fire burns out.’
He smiled, took my hand, and pulled me back up the mountainside. I laughed. I was so happy. I couldn’t stop smiling. Everything I’d wanted had come true, and together, we would win the challenge.
Back on the ridge, the fire grew. I placed a log on the hot coals, making them crackle and hiss. I took one of the saplings Skelkra had collected, skinned the main stem, placed it over the fire, and heated it. When the stick had heated, I removed it from the fire, worked out the bends and curves of one section, and placed another section over the heat. I repeated this until the stem w
as dead straight.
‘Here.’ Skelkra took it from me. ‘I’ll do the rest. You find deer, goat, anything.’
I left him to make the arrows and began to track game. Thixal followed far behind. I stepped along the mountainside, carefully inspecting trees, mud, and snow. Eventually, the slope levelled, and I could walk in a straight line. The next peak ascended beside me. The trees thinned, and I spotted rabbits ducking under the brush. Horn-shaped prints in the mud showed me the direction a deer had walked. On the ground beside them were half-chewed leaves. I touched them: still moist. The deer were close.
I ran back to Skelkra. ‘Deer prints to the south, up the mountain,’ I said.
He passed me the first bare-shaft arrow.
‘Don’t you want to hunt?’ I asked him.
He frowned. ‘They gave the bow to you. Only you can use it.’
I groaned, snatched the arrow from him, and ran back to the hoof prints. The sun had moved down towards the western horizon, and the forest animals would be on the move. I stood for a moment, listening. The wind wailed around the cliffs and trees. Tiny birds chirped. In the distance, I could hear the faint splashing from Lild and the growls of the bears. Closer, a twig snapped. Pine needles rustled, and a tree rat jumped from one tree to another. I heard a loud thump to my left, followed by a whoosh. I crouched and crept toward it.
I came to a clearing surrounded by rock. For a moment, my eyes swept the area, and then I heard a hawgrald cry, which sounded like a squawk and a roar mixed together.
The bird of prey rose from the trees. Dagger-length talons grasped a stag. With each flap of its long emerald wings, trees swayed, birds fled, and rodents scampered. I watched the predator continuing to rise. It spotted me and screeched, the sound almost deafening. It dropped the deer, tilted its wings, and dived at me, claws spread.
Chapter Three