by Claudia King
Her apprenticeship was still exhausting, especially when she had to run up and down from the river fetching water for her impatient superiors several times a day, but seeing how her knowledge might one day be put into practice helped spur her on.
She looked at the necklace Caspian had made for her often, tracing her fingers over the symbol carved into the front as she thought of him. He never mentioned it to her, but, the first time he saw her wearing it, the smile it brought to his lips warmed Netya's thoughts all day. When the others asked her what the symbol on the necklace was, some thought it silly, as she had at first, but to her it would always be a source of pride, just like her spear.
Unfortunately, there was little time for her to enjoy herself with her friends. Even her relaxing walks with Fern and Erech became few and far between, and she had little energy left to do anything but eat and sleep in the evenings once she was permitted to leave the seers' cave. The taxing extent of her duties was not lost on the others, and she was frequently reminded —particularly by those who disliked Adel—that she was being pushed far harder than was usual for most apprentices.
The kindly elders she used to sit with in the mornings often encouraged her to rest more, to eat, to stay a while and talk with them, while Vaya and her ilk shook their heads in contempt, bemused at how she could allow herself to be made such a slave to the den mother.
Had it not been for the way she found Adel the morning after she helped Essie, Netya might have objected to the relentless chores too. Stubbornness and a desire to prove herself could only go so far, but a small part of her was starting to believe that there was more to Adel than the harsh exterior she presented to the world. She wanted to believe that her training would bear fruit, and the tiny glimmer of faith she had in her mentor's wisdom was enough to keep her going.
A few days before Khelt was due to arrive back with the group that had gone to the North People, Adel told Netya that the time had come for her to begin learning the ways of the spirits. Healing and medicine were only one half of a seer's duties, and they could be learned by most who had the dedication and sharpness of mind. Communing with the spirits, however, was a secret wisdom destined only for a select few. It was this, the other seers told her, that would truly test whether she was suited to their calling or not.
Adel instructed her to rest well, giving her until noon to prepare herself before they embarked upon the next pivotal moment in her training. Netya was unsure of how she was supposed to ready herself for something she had so little understanding of. The spirits were as much of a mystery to her as they had ever been, and from the moment she woke shortly after dawn the mounting sense of apprehension in her stomach refused to let go. She lay in her furs for a long time, watching the light grow brighter through the tent walls, until as last her restless thoughts became too much, and she went down to the river to bathe.
Netya's nervous energy hummed beneath her skin all day, and despite Adel's instructions she took her spear down to the plains to practice for several hours, allowing the familiar burn of exertion to calm her down. Once the sun was nearly at its zenith, she returned to the seers' cave, steadied herself with a few long breaths, and made her way to the den mother's chamber.
Adel was waiting for her in the dim light of her sanctuary, the overhead covers closed and only the eerie glow of a few lamps to illuminate her. She greeted Netya with her customary coldness, and motioned for her to sit.
"Today you will make your first journey into the spirit world," she said. "I will be here to help guide you, but I cannot follow once your mind slips away from your body. Every seer must learn to face the spirits on her own."
Netya knelt down on a woven mat in front of the den mother. Today, the slab between them was occupied by only a small bowl of nut meal, a knife, and a wooden jar sealed with wax.
"Will it be like what I see in my dreams?" she asked.
"No. When you sleep, your spirit comes loose from your mind and drifts through the world from which it was born. Nothing in your dreams seems amiss, because your spirit knows that place, and it is content there. When you journey into the spirit world of your own accord, you will be taking your waking mind to a place where only spirits were meant to walk."
"What must I do there?"
Adel picked up the knife and began cutting the wax away from the jar. "Endure, and pay heed to what the spirits show you. I told you when you began your apprenticeship that only seers can draw meaning from visions. It will be many years before you master such a skill, but you will begin learning today. Remember what I told you. Visions are not premonitions of the future. At least, not in the way the other seers describe them."
"I still do not understand what you mean by this," Netya said. "How am I to use my visions if not to glimpse things only the spirits can see?"
Adel paused half way through her cutting, as if the answer to Netya's question was more complex than she felt able to explain. "Try to think of visions not as flashes of wisdom, but as remedies to help those around you, like the plants we use. Their meaning may not always be clear, and many will prove useless, but the time will come when a person approaches you in need of aid, and you will be able to use what you have seen in the spirit world to help them."
Netya's brow knotted in confusion. "How can visions be like medicine?"
"They are medicine of the mind and spirit, not of the body. I cannot expect you to understand yet, but you will learn in time. There are many ailments that only the reassurance of the spirits can heal." She resumed her cutting, peeling back the wax a small piece at a time. "You remember when Erech was injured? He is your friend, is he not?"
Netya bobbed her head.
"He came to speak with me not long after he recovered," Adel continued. "His body was mending, but his spirit was still broken. I am sure you noticed it too."
"It was very hard for him," Netya said.
"He begged for me to seek out a vision for him. He needed to know whether he would ever hunt again, and I could see how desperate he was for the spirits to sooth his fears."
Netya perked up, her own curiosity aroused. "Did the spirits tell you his leg would heal?"
Adel gave her a long, hard look. Her icy eyes held a sincerity that compelled Netya to consider what the den mother said next carefully. "If they had not, do you think it would have done Erech any good for me to tell him?"
Netya frowned again. "But if the spirits revealed his future to you, you should have told him the truth."
"And what is the truth, Netya? How many visions have you heard told that never come to pass? There is no more truth in visions than what we make of them. If I had seen Erech as a crippled old man in my dreams, would it have helped him for me to speak of it, knowing it might never come to pass?"
The den mother's words clawed at Netya uncomfortably. This was not how the other seers interpreted visions at all. "Are you saying you did not tell Erech the truth?"
"No. I have never lied about what the spirits have shown me. A few weeks before Erech came to me, I saw a vision of a young man running, so that was the vision I chose to recount to him."
"So the spirits did show you he would recover!"
Adel shook her head with a sigh of impatience. "Listen to my words. I saw a vision of a young man running. I do not know who he was. I do not know whether it was a glimpse of the past, the future, or of someone far, far away. But I described it to Erech, and it was enough to give him hope. Whether my vision was meant for him or not, it helped to mend the part of him that was ready to give in to despair. That is the true power a seer is able to wield, Netya. We can give hope where none exists. We can guide people to make the choices that lead them to peace and happiness. We must not boast of our premonitions without thought of what they might mean. We must keep them a secret, and know which visions to gift to those who need them most."
The implications of what Adel was saying weighed heavily on Netya. More than ever, she felt the duties of a seer bearing down on her, and they seemed almost
enough to make her buckle. "How will I know which visions to share? What if I share one that ends up hurting the person I recount it to?"
"These are the things you must learn in the years to come. The alpha thinks I care so little for the people of this pack, but I have been watching them for years. When they confide in me and my seers, I listen to all the things they say, and all the things they do not. I think long and hard on what they need, and I search the spirit world for the best answers I can find. It is a great burden that takes much courage to bear, but it is through learning this wisdom that a woman may become a great seer. Greater than any of those born into this pack and their way of thinking."
"I do not know if I can," Netya said quietly.
"Then leave my cave and go back to the alpha's bed, if that is the only role you feel suited for."
Netya glared at her mentor, and a rare smile lit Adel's lips in response. She finished cutting away the wax and tilted the jar on its side, tapping it against the slab until a few small berries rolled out. They were not a fruit that was familiar to Netya from her recent studies, but she recognised them all the same, and her heart beat a little faster.
"These are nightwood berries," Adel said. "The hunters gather them for me from the edges of your forest. Perhaps you know what they are used for?"
"I was told never to touch them," Netya replied. They were not called nightwood berries in her tongue, but she knew how dangerous they could be. She remembered vividly the time a young boy from her village had eaten some, and how it had taken a dose of an equally powerful poison to burn the sickness from his body.
"More than a few can kill a person," Adel said. "I suspect for your kind it takes even less. If they are handled carefully, however, they are the most potent way we know of glimpsing the spirit world." She took a single berry and placed it into the bowl, grinding it to pulp with the heel of her knife, until its poison had mixed with the nut meal and stained it dark. "Eat slowly, and stop once you feel your visions approaching." She handed her apprentice the bowl, then moved the slab aside and set the knife down far out of reach.
Netya put a trembling finger into the meal and scooped a tiny amount into her mouth. It tasted horribly bitter, but it did not make her mouth burn as she had feared. Adel turned her around so that she was facing the cave's entrance, then sat behind her and placed her hands on Netya's shoulders.
"When you slip into the spirit world, remember that nothing you experience there can hurt you. You may see things that are terrifying, and they will seem so real that they drive reason from your mind. Allow the fear to come, and accept it. There is no point in trying to fight the spirits or run from them. I will be here with you, and I will ensure no harm comes to your body, but your mind must be prepared for the rest."
"What will I see?" Netya whispered, forcing herself to bring another mouthful of the nut meal to her lips.
"I cannot say for certain, but the spirits of the animals who once wore the pelts in this chamber will likely try to speak with you. They come to me often, and that is why I keep them close."
Netya's eyes flitted about the cave, glancing from one twisted animal pelt to the next. They were eerie enough as they were, and she did not relish the idea of meeting the spirits that had once inhabited them. She was riding down the ravine again, chasing the drove of horses into the unknown. Whatever awaited her in the spirit world, she was as curious as she was terrified to meet it. Of all the journeys she had made over the past year, this one was the first to truly stray beyond the boundaries of everything she knew. But somewhere in the spirit world, deeper than the waking senses could reach, perhaps she would at last find her calling.
The poison seemed to take a very long time to begin working, but Adel insisted she keep eating the nut meal slowly. Too much, and she might not realise until it was too late. The den mother sat patiently with her hands on her apprentice's shoulders, saying little, and moving even less. Her tense grip only heightened Netya's unease, as if her mentor was expecting a demon to burst from her body at any moment.
Gradually, the edges of the world began to soften. The flames of the lamps grew brighter and more keen, but rather than driving back the darkness, they instead seemed to be absorbing what little light remained in the room. They grew bigger, whiter, until they were curling and dancing in the air like the tails of snakes. Awed, Netya reached out to try and touch one, but her fingers were unable to grasp it.
"Is this the spirit world?" she whispered. A noise rumbled from behind her that no longer sounded like Adel's voice. Forgetting why she had asked her question, she stared into the dancing flames again, becoming lost in the light as the cave walls rolled past until she was staring up at the roof, then the opposite wall, and then herself as her spirit came loose from her body and drifted away into the flames.
Netya gazed in wonder as she watched herself sitting cross-legged against a great tree that had sprouted from the middle of the chamber. Its branches were curled about her shoulders like claws, and she could feel the dry twigs pricking at her skin. The woven grasses in the mat beneath her were growing again, and they writhed against her legs as they spread across the rocks like spilt water.
For a time she drifted, floating across the cave walls until, without knowing exactly how, she found herself looking through her own eyes again. The branches of the tree were still curled about her shoulders, but she was able to stand despite their tight grip. She was not sure whether the body she inhabited was her own any more, but it seemed willing to move with her.
When she tried to leave through the cave's entrance, the drapes swallowed the shadows until they turned into pure night, an endless pit of black that held neither moon nor stars. She tried to touch it, but something warned her away. The twigs wrapping her shoulders crackled, and the rocks beneath her feet became like mud, clinging and dragging at her ankles as she crawled back to the safety of the tree. But the tree was gone. In its place was a bowl covered by a bloody piece of animal hide. Had she not emptied it into the river already?
Netya peeled the covering away. Blood spilled from the edges of the bowl until it covered the cave floor, rising up around her legs as she backed away in shock, a terrible sadness coming over her. She clutched her knees and wept, tears turning to ice on her cheeks.
When she finally opened her eyes it felt like a long time had passed, but the blood around her ankles was still there. Was she still in the cave? Something about the tightness on her shoulders made her think she was, but all around her the shallow lake of crimson stretched for miles around, ancient trees breaking the surface and clawing their way up into the misty sky.
She was lost. She had gone too far. How would she ever find her way back home to her mother? The spirit world was very large, and it had been hours, days, months since she came here. The pelt of a long-dead bear drifted past, and it reminded Netya of something someone had once told her.
"Will you help me?" she asked, but the pelt only rolled over listlessly as it floated to the base of a nearby tree, climbed half way up, and then hung itself in the branches as if it were an ornament. All around she began to notice the skins of more animals draped in the trees, foxes and deer and wolves, stoats and bears and great cats...
The horizon darkened and closed in until she was sitting once again in blackness, the pelts of the animals hanging around her in a circle as they watched the girl who had strayed into their realm. The dark sockets that had once held their eyes stared at her, flickering with the flames of the lamps as shrivelled lips pulled back from empty jaws.
They cannot hurt me , Netya reminded herself, but she could not remember how she knew such a thing. Had her mother told her, before she left the village? A sickening growl sounded from behind her, and the world spun dizzyingly as she whipped her head around. She did not know what she was kneeling on, but the darkness suddenly rushed up around her as she lost her balance, engulfing her like a blanket as her stomach lurched with the sensation of falling.
Her skin was damp with sweat. Her
heart was beating too fast, pounding in her ears like the blows of a hammerstone. Nothing but blackness surrounded her. In a panic, her eyes darted back and forth, searching for some chink of light, but she was afraid to turn her head in case she lost her balance again and tumbled even deeper into the dark.
Low, wet, and echoing, the growl sounded once more. Netya froze, but her shivering body betrayed her, the hammering of her heart drawing the beast out of the shadows. A white wolf, his snowy fur brushed through with streaks of black and grey, appeared before her. The flames of the lamps burned where his dead eyes had once been, but rather than white, they were now crimson. His lower jaw was gone, and black poison dripped from the monster's fangs as he prowled closer, the unearthly sounds coming from his throat increasing in volume as he locked eyes with Netya.
The terror she felt was like nothing she had ever known. This wolf was no phantom, he was real. She could smell the musty scent of his dead fur, taste the tang of the poison in the air. The branches around her shoulders turned into talons, piercing her flesh as she screamed and writhed to escape. She could not be here any more! There had to be a way out. This place was not meant for her. It was too far, too deep. Where was the light? Where was her mother? Why had she ever left home?
Netya's thoughts abandoned her as she covered her eyes and curled into a ball, sobbing hysterically. She did not know how long she hung there in the darkness with the growls of the monstrous wolf in her ears. It seemed like years. All the while she fell deeper, sinking into the place beyond the stars where even the spirits fell silent. The wolf faded too, and so did the darkness, the talons, the terror. When she landed, it was in the arms of a soothing presence, and she crawled closer to its warmth, clinging on desperately to the only thing that felt safe in such emptiness.