by J. M. Hayes
He did. Well enough for me to think it likely he spoke of Willow’s cave. The Mother’s cave. That meant, in my world, I might have very few days left to live. Or that I’d already died.
Who would build a shrine for me, anyway? Willow was the only one I could think of, though I had no idea why.
Unless Ice Eyes’ story was part of some elaborate trick, I had to get away from there. If I woke again as flesh and not bone, I needed to put as much distance as possible between myself and Willow’s cave as fast as I could.
“Who took the figurine?” Ice Eyes asked.
I tried to escape the question. I tried to make myself wake up back in Down’s arms. Back in our camp. I couldn’t manage it.
“Perfect Woman took it. She took it after you followed the other woman who got angry about finding the two of you together.”
“Damn,” he said. “I should have known that little…that she’d do something desperate to control me.”
“Be careful of her,” I told him. “She’s willing to harm you much worse than that.”
“I won’t give her the chance,” he said. He turned his back on me and stormed out of the chamber, leaving me alone in that terrible dream, trying desperately to wake from it and, just as desperately, to understand what it all meant.
Traps
I woke, briefly remembering only pleasant things. Like the joy I’d found in the girl against whose hip I lay. Then the skull dream flashed back into my consciousness and my eyes snapped open. It was late, our tent empty. Everyone else had already risen. Only Down still slept, snuggled beside me. And she was unnaturally warm. I pulled back our robes to cut away her bandage and poultice using one of my blades. The same blade had lain beside me as I talked to Ice Eyes. Hair rose on the back of my neck in a way it couldn’t while I’d been in that dream. Down’s wound had turned an angry red during the night. But at least no twisting lines crawled away from it just beneath her skin. The wound was infected, but maybe not badly.
Down hadn’t wakened even as I removed her bandage. I covered the wound again, replaced her robes, and scrambled into my skins and boots. The inside of the tent had turned very cold. I grabbed an extra robe and went to find Gentle Breeze.
“He’s awake.” Scowl had been sitting beside the tent’s flap, her duty to announce my rising to the band.
Low clouds raced across the sky, bumping and roiling, moving toward the mountains and ice like a stampeding sky herd.
Takes Risks jogged over to meet me. “Stone and Bull Hump have been talking with the men. They want you to arrange a purification ceremony immediately. We’ve shed blood. We’ve killed Enemies. Worse, our men have been in the presence of a woman during the time she bleeds. All these things put the band in grave danger.”
I agreed. Especially since I felt in considerable danger myself. In danger of losing Down. In danger of losing my life. Of having my head spend an eternity in Willow’s cave, waiting for Ice Eyes to find me.
“I’ll arrange it. I’ll need Gentle Breeze’s help. Have you seen her?”
He pointed at another tent. “You’ll find her there.”
One of the boys had fallen yesterday as we scrambled up the rocks to get away from The Enemies’ camp. Gentle Breeze was treating his scrapes and scratches, advising his mother.
“Stone and the others want a purification,” I told her. “Will you help?”
She agreed.
“And I need you to look at Down. Her wound is infected. She has a fever. I think she needs a poultice with the healing mold. I don’t have any left. Do you?”
Gentle Breeze shook her head. “I’ve been out of the mold for weeks. It’s hard to find in this strange country and we spend so much time traveling. I’ve looked, but haven’t seen any.”
“Then, please do what you can for Down. After that, help me cleanse the women. As soon as we finish the women and I’ve purified you, search for mold. I’m afraid for Down’s life, Gentle Breeze.”
She chewed her lower lip and searched my eyes with her own. “We won’t let anything bad happen to her. I’ll find the mold.”
Her concern was honest. She’d helped raise and train the girl. Gentle Breeze might not do this for my sake, but she would for Down’s.
“I’ll look at Down now,” Gentle Breeze said.
I thanked her. “You’ve been a better healer than I am for a long time. Down needs you. And I desperately need Down to be well again.”
Very desperately, very soon. Down would have to be healthy before the two of us could run away. But would Down run with me? I hadn’t told her about my dreams. I certainly wouldn’t tell Gentle Breeze. I wouldn’t tell anyone in the band, except maybe Down. I’d thought of myself as a logical man, but talking of a dream gave it substance in the real world. I wouldn’t hesitate to share most of my dreams with Down, but I wasn’t sure about these. My normal dreams now usually involved Down and wonderful things we might do together. But losing my head—that was another matter.
***
The band gathered everything we owned and carried it down the rocky path to the stream. I washed each item. Every tent, every tool, every blanket. I washed their clothing. And then I washed every member of our band, each time pausing to dust the person or item with a pinch of pollen, then a sweep with a grass brush I’d made for the occasion. As I did so, I chanted the words of purification.
It had snowed on us every few days that summer. Just when we needed it least, snow began falling again while I finished cleansing the last of our possessions. The band piled our supply of firewood and dried dung nearby and covered it while everyone huddled, naked, around the fires trying to stay warm and waiting for me. I stood at the edge of the water, stepping in and out of the ice melt. I’d wrapped my feet in a pair of boots I purified as soon as I purified myself. My feet were wet and aching from the cold, then numb stumps on which I stumbled about, unable to feel the ground beneath me. Great wet snowflakes struck me and melted until I shook so badly I could hardly manage to continue the ceremonies. As I worked and fought the brutal cold, I worried about Down. Bear Man carried her to me so I could purify her before anyone else. The cold air and water woke her and cooled her enough for her to smile at me and tell me she’d be fine.
Bear Man claimed bears couldn’t become impure, not even when they assumed human form, as long as they acted on behalf of The Goddess.
“I’ll be happy to continue looking after this amazing woman. I’ll make sure she’ll be all right.”
I appreciated the offer but didn’t think he could deliver on it.
He gathered up the Women’s tent and its posts and carried Down back to the spot where it had been before Blue Flower found us. He built a small fire in the tent and took robes to wrap Down as soon as they dried.
I usually took extra pleasure in bathing and brushing the women, especially beauties like Blue Flower. This time I hardly noticed. Because I washed everything and everyone, it filled most of the day. I couldn’t have finished if Gentle Breeze and Scowl hadn’t begun heating water at the fires and using it to warm my poor feet. They brought me cleansed robes and rubbed me dry. At the end, too exhausted to eat, I found my way to the Women’s tent and crept beneath the robes beside Down, letting my chill cool her fever and her fever warm my frozen body. Bear Man had built her a soft bed cushioned with thick grass he’d shaken out and dried. I was far too frozen and tired to feel it. Down clung to me, and I to her. I dropped into a deep and, thankfully, dreamless sleep.
***
It felt as if I’d hardly slept at all when Bull Hump woke me, calling my name. I slipped from Down’s side, crawled from the Women’s tent, and joined him. The snow had stopped, but the clouds still hung, low and threatening. An icy wind wiped the sleep from my eyes.
“The men are gathering for a council. They want you there.”
I sighed and drew a deep breath, searching inside myself f
or a hidden reserve of energy to get myself through this. I didn’t find it.
“Raven,” Bull Hump growled. “If you’re fool enough to accuse me of being the murderer in front of the band, I’ll slit your throat before you finish saying my name. No matter what the others do to me. Do you understand?”
I didn’t. Was Bull Hump confessing? Or trying to scare me because he thought I might link him to Tall Pine’s murder and accuse him in front of everyone? I felt old and tired, but I nodded and somehow followed him as he stomped back to the main camp.
The men had formed a circle in the center of the band’s tents. Women and children huddled close behind them. I wondered if Stone or Takes Risks had decided to blame our fresh troubles on me. Bull Hump, at least, only worried about himself.
Could even Bear Man’s presence or The Mother’s commands keep me safe? Since I’d just slept in the Women’s tent, would they require me to purify myself again? I’d have been frightened about what I might face, but I didn’t have the energy for it.
No one remembered where I’d slept. Or they didn’t care. Takes Risks recited our list of troubles, carefully mentioning my involvement in each. I warmed myself from the heat of the central fire and tried not to doze off. Takes Risks surprised me when he praised my role in the recovery of our women and children. He thanked me for the ceremony I’d performed before I slept.
“Raven,” he asked, “what do you recommend we do next?”
I shook my head. Forced myself to think. “Move,” I finally said. “This campsite has been unlucky. We need to get through the mountains before the seasons change. We need to follow the herds. We should start south as soon as possible.”
The circle went eerily still. What I’d said made sense. Why hadn’t anyone agreed?
Bear Man put an arm around my shoulder. “Raven, in your exhaustion, you forget The Mother’s instructions.”
The circle nodded and mumbled agreement.
“She said you must find the murderer,” Stone said. “Otherwise, our band will be doomed. We may all die. And The People, every one of them, could suffer because of us.”
Yes, she had said that. Just as she’d said Bear Man really was a bear. I’d been thinking, though not very clearly, of my own safety. I’d completely forgotten the commands of a Goddess I didn’t believe in. Not Willow’s version, anyway.
“And so,” Stone continued, “we must stay here until you succeed. I think we’ll let you rest today. But tomorrow, you will take up your task and all of us will cooperate. At the end of the day, you’ll name the killer. Then we’ll follow the animals again. Our band will have good fortune. Even if we spend a few more days here, The Mother will see that we make it through the mountains before the storms come.”
I spread my arms, indicating the snow that covered the tundra as far as the eye could see. “What’s this, then?” I asked. “I say it’s a sign—winter’s coming.”
“This isn’t the only snow of summer,” Takes Risks reminded me. “I think, though you purified us, we remain unclean. There’s one more cleansing you must perform before we’ll be safe. You have to do what The Mother ordered.”
“Yes,” another spoke.
Every man in the circle expressed their agreement, and the women supported them. We weren’t going anywhere. Not until I gave them a killer tomorrow. I could slip away, run on my own. But Down couldn’t travel. Not with that wound. And I couldn’t leave her. I was trapped.
***
On my way back to the Women’s tent, I ran into Gentle Breeze on the outside of the circle. I didn’t have to ask about the mold. I could see in her face that she hadn’t found any.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” she said. “The snow covers everything. In this country, I don’t even know where to start digging to look for it.”
I nodded. I wouldn’t do any better, brushing snow from unrecognizable plants. But I knew where to find the mold. The Mother would have some.
Walking from our camp on this ridge to the mountain and The Mother’s cave, the last place on earth I wanted to go—if Ice Eyes had it right, the last place I would ever go—would take much longer than when I’d run there along stream beds with Down. The snow would be deepest among the willows. The dwarf trees slumped under its weight, hiding game trails. I’d have to cross the tundra, where the snow hid the edges of each sedge and the treacherous holes in the ice wedges that might lie in between. Walking across the tundra would be nearly impossible.
I went to Stone’s tent, my usual tent, and found my skis. Not the elegant, long, smooth pieces of carved wood I learned on when we were back in the old country. I wore a pair of curved strips of mammoth ivory that endless exposure to heat and cold had caused to flake off from the remains of once elegant tusks. With the help of my spear to push myself across the flat spots and give me balance, they’d do.
Bear Man stuck his head in the tent. When he saw me tying my feet inside the ivory, he understood.
“You’re going to The Mother to get help for the girl, aren’t you? I’ll borrow some skis and come with you. Make sure you’re safe.”
Make sure I wasn’t running away, I thought, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I told him, “You can’t. You have to stay to insure that Down’s safe. Besides, you’re too big for any of the skis we have.”
“What’s this about skis?” Takes Risks entered, overcrowding the tent.
“He’s going to The Mother’s cave,” Bear Man explained.
“Down needs a special medicine,” I said. “We don’t have any. In this snow, we can’t find it, either. But The Mother will have some.”
Takes Risks rubbed his chin. “The snow may melt before you get back.”
“Or it may not,” I said. “Even if it does, I’d have to search for the plants on which the medicine grows. It could take days. Down may not have days, and all of you want me to solve the murder tomorrow.”
“That’s true,” Takes Risks said. “And you’re right. Bear Man is too big for our skis. He’s more valuable here, protecting our camp. I’ll go with you.”
He kicked through the piles of robes and equipment I’d purified. No one had sorted our things and stored them neatly. His favorite skis were bigger and smoother than mine. Better quality because he got to choose before me.
“You could stay here, Raven,” Takes Risks said. “You need the rest. It’s obvious how much you need it. Explain to me what you want and I’ll get it from The Mother.”
“She may take some persuading.” I had to go in person in case I needed to remind Willow she had to send some back with me if she wanted me to stay and find the murderer.
Takes Risks didn’t argue. He stuffed an extra robe and his bow and arrows in a pack and threw it over his shoulder. He grabbed his spear and pushed open the tent flap. “I’ll tell Stone and get us some pemmican. Then I’ll meet you on the ridge above camp.”
I would have thanked him, but he was another part of the trap that held me. Not that I planned to run, but I hardly wanted company as I went back to the cave where Ice Eyes said my skull would spend eternity.
***
Takes Risks didn’t talk much as we skied into the wind. He pointed out the tracks of predators when we came near them. Made sure I stayed alert to the possibility of meeting the creatures that made those tracks as we picked our way around groves of snow-bowed willows. Otherwise, he left me to my thoughts and seemed deep in his own.
I concentrated on sliding one foot ahead of the other. It was all I could manage.
“We’re not alone,” Takes Risks told me as we neared The Mother’s cave. “There,” he pointed at a pair of men paralleling us on the other side of the creek. “And behind the rocks above.”
I didn’t pick them all out. They didn’t concern me. The Mother, Willow, would want to know ahead of time whenever anyone came to visit her cave. I uncovered my head, though the wind embraced me with a cruelty
that made my face ache. That way, they’d know who approached. I heard bird calls from the willows and the rocks. Not from birds because they’d huddle in their nests and ignore us in weather like this. The old man, Mammoth Rider, Bear Man’s father, trotted down the slope to greet us.
“The Mother bids you welcome,” he told us, “but thinks you haven’t yet completed your task, Raven. She would have preferred you to finish before you came here again.”
“I would have preferred not to come at all,” I said, “but I must speak to her.”
“Of course. She waits for you. Perhaps your companion would like to join us beside the fire. We have warm stew.”
We hadn’t paused to snack on the pemmican we’d brought on our trek to The Mother’s cave, so Takes Risks accepted with enthusiasm. He had ambitions, but he believed The Mother possessed great magical skills. Magic, operating under different rules than men like Takes Risks understood, was something he preferred to avoid.
I followed the old man. The Mother sat in the corner she’d occupied when we were last here. Her eyes stared into the rock across from her. Or through it. The old man didn’t say a word as he turned and left me with her. I waited a few moments until, overcome by impatience, I spoke.
“Willow. I need something from you.”
Her eyes blinked. Once, twice, three times. She slowly turned to face me.
“The healing mold. Yes. I already sent it. And a small bladder of wine. Gentle Breeze has them by now and Down will respond to her treatment quickly.”
“Your spies told you? Then why didn’t they tell me? Save me this trek across the tundra?”
“Because I decided I should see you. To remind you of your duty and to suggest you stop avoiding it. We no longer have much time to repair this.”
That took me aback. “What do you mean?” I demanded, wondering if my skull would leave this place in its current functional condition even once more.
“We, each of us, have our allotted time. You’re old, Raven. You know your days are numbered. Mine, too, since I’m nearly as old as you and only part of me can survive beyond a normal span of years. This body I’ve borrowed can’t.”