by Jo Sandhu
The first few rocks were easy to remove. Luuka pushed them, and they rolled away, leaving a hole large enough for him to put his head through, but a larger rock was wedged firmly in place and wouldn’t move.
‘What if we used one of the spears to dig under it? Remember when mother wanted those large stones moved back at the cave? She had the men wedge their spears under them and when they leaned on them, the stones moved.’
‘I remember,’ Luuka said slowly. He rubbed his chin. ‘But some of the spears broke, and we only have two spears left. We may need them to hunt.’
Kaija nodded and frowned at the rock. ‘What if we pushed it with our legs? We can lie down here and put our feet against it.’
Luuka smiled. ‘Good idea.’
They twisted around so their feet were up against the rock, and when Luuka counted down from three, they both pushed hard. The rock resisted, but slowly, they felt it move.
‘Again.’ Luuka strained against the rock and his face turned red. Kaija took a deep breath and pushed as hard as she could. The muscles in her legs cramped, but she kept pushing. Luuka altered his feet, and tried a different angle, and slowly, the rock shifted. Pebbles and snow cascaded down, but the hole was finally large enough for them to scramble through.
The meadow and mountain stream were now covered in a thick blanket of white snow, sloping steeply towards the forest. Kaija took a deep, cleansing breath, and pulled herself out onto the snow, where she sank up to her thighs.
‘Be careful,’ Luuka said. ‘This snow will be soft, and unstable.’ He felt for a firmer place to stand. Nilkka yelped and dashed past him, leaving a trail of light footprints in the snow.
‘She’s happy to be out in the sunshine, too.’ Kaija looked back toward the tip of Ice Bringer. Instead of the overhanging snow, she could now see sheer cliffs of rock. Clouds broiled around the tip, promising rain. ‘This snow will wash away quickly,’ Kaija said. ‘We shouldn’t still be on the mountain when that happens.’
Luuka nodded, and whistled for Nilkka. She bounded toward him and put her paws up on his chest. Her extra weight pushed him back into a deep snowdrift, nearly burying him.
‘Now who has to be careful?’ Kaija laughed with sheer delight at being out of the cave and took another step, sinking down to her hip. She wriggled and strained to pull her leg free.
Luuka grinned. ‘I think the easiest way down will be to slide.’ He clasped his bundle of dry clothes to his chest and sat down on the snow. With a push, he slid forward and headed toward the cover of the forest, rapidly gathering speed.
Kaija followed. The wind rushed against her face as she flew down the slope. A large bump in the snow sent her spinning around and if her heart had not been so heavy, she would have screamed in joy. Nilkka yelped and raced her down the slope. As they approached the edge of the trees, Kaija put her feet down to slow her descent. Her bottom and thighs were numb, and the exciting slide made her heart beat fast. She grasped a pine branch as she reached the trees and looked back the way she had come. Two winding trails cut through the snow, wolf prints crisscrossing the paths. She could just make out the hole they had scrambled through, and looking back at the thick slope of snow made her realise how deep the mountain stream and the blue lake had been buried. The snow would disappear, eventually. Rain would wash a lot away, and the lake and stream would melt it from below, but Kaija wondered if the meadow would ever be as it was.
And the forest had sustained damage, too. Towering pines and firs were crushed beneath the weight of the snow and falling boulders. The pine branch she held onto had once been near the top of a mighty giant, now lying shattered. Her gaze followed the trail of destruction down the mountainside – an ugly scar blighting the alpine forest. One day, new growth would cover the fallen trees, but until then, smaller bushes of undergrowth – hazel brush, blackthorn and juniper – as well as rambling nettles and ground elder, would grow quickly to cover the fallen giants, taking advantage of the increased sun and moisture.
Kaija glanced at the sun. It was mid-afternoon. Their clothes were wet from the lake, they were covered in grazes and bruises, and they hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
But all their food was buried back in the cave. Her stomach growled.
‘I think we should head for the hot springs,’ Luuka said. ‘We can camp there, and make our plans.’
Kaija bit her lip and nodded. She glanced up as a cloud covered the sun. She could no longer see the tip of Ice Bringer. It was wreathed in cloud and mist. She stood, undecided, as Luuka picked his way past the fallen pine tree. She was reluctant to leave the meadow. She felt they were abandoning Tarin and Rohk, but she also knew they needed to find shelter and get warm and dry. She shivered as a sharp breeze blew and took an unwilling step forward.
Suddenly, Nilkka flung her head back and released a high-pitched, piercing howl. Kaija fell backwards in surprise. Luuka spun around, but before either of them could react, Nilkka dashed into the forest.
‘No! Nilkka, come back!’ Luuka shouted after her, but the wolf was fast and sure-footed, and her grey coat disappeared quickly into the the trees.
‘Luuka, we have to go after her,’ Kaija cried. She pushed through the pine branches, oblivious to the scratches on her face. ‘We can’t lose her, too!’ Kaija’s stomach churned.
Luuka nodded. His face looked grey. ‘You lead. You’re a better tracker than I am.’
Kaija took a deep breath to calm herself and nodded. She clenched her fists to stop them shaking, and studied the ground. The snow cover would help, at least until the rain started. She picked up the trail of Nilkka’s prints.
‘This way.’ She had never tracked a wolf before, especially not one running so fast, but fear heightened her senses. She clasped her horse pendant and sent a plea to her totem.
Help me find Nilkka. Don’t let me lose her, like I’ve lost Tarin and Rohk.
A quick glance at the darkening sky told her they’d have to hurry. Rain was on the way.
And please, Spirit of Horse, keep us safe, wherever we may be.
Something is wrong. I should be dead, Tarin thought. I should be as cold as the ice, and drifting slowly into the sleep that will carry me to the Spirit World.
Instead, someone, or something was throwing stones at him. He winced as another sharp pebble found its mark above his right ear. He tried to move, but he had no strength. He tried to open his eyes, but even that was slow and painful. The glare of the sun and the bitter cold of the snow made his vision blur. Another pebble struck him between the eyes and Tarin winced. He stared at the large raven sitting a few paces from him, black against the stark white snow. It cawed deep in its throat and fluffed its glossy feathers. A bright black eye glittered at him. Then it turned its head to pick up another pebble and Tarin saw its other eye was clouded with grey.
‘What do you want?’ Tarin groaned. ‘Go away! I want to die.’
The bird tilted its head, listening. Then suddenly, the snow around it heaved and a wolf burst from the side of the mountain.
Rohk yelped and jumped on Tarin, covering him in warm, wet kisses. He nipped the boy with his teeth and pawed at him.
‘Stop it, Rohk. Let me die.’ Tarin turned his face away from the wolf. Rohk caught his hand in his mouth and growled. He dug his teeth in and gently shook his head from side to side.
‘Rohk! Go away.’ Tarin tried to pull his hand away from the wolf, but Rohk dug his teeth in deeper. Then he released the hand and whined as he licked Tarin’s wounds. He lifted his head and howled, and pawed at Tarin’s chest.
Tarin glared at the wolf. ‘I told you to go away, Rohk. And you,’ he said to the raven.
The bird croaked and spread its wings for flight. It wheeled high above them, then swooped low to nip Rokh’s ear. Rokh yelped and snapped at the bird, but it was too fast for him. The wolf turned back to Tarin as the bird disappeared from sight.
He grabbed hold of Tarin’s sleeve and tugged. Tarin pushed him, but pain shot through his left arm a
nd he cried out. Rohk released him and licked his face.
‘Enough, Rohk!’ Tarin pushed the wolf with his good arm and sat up. Rohk sat back on his haunches and smiled his wolf-smile. Tarin scowled and bared his teeth at the unrepentant wolf. He growled, but Rohk kept smiling, love and devotion shining in his orange eyes. He reached forward and licked the tip of Tarin’s nose.
Tarin shook his head and wiped his face. He wondered how Rohk had found him – how he had followed him through the twisting underground channels, braving the darkness and the rushing water, and how he had tracked him to the side of the mountain.
And he wondered about the raven, because he was sure now that the bird had been Spirit of Raven. Tarin scanned the sky, but there was no sign of it. He wondered where it had come from and who had sent it. And why it had kept him alive until Rokh found him.
Tarin frowned at the wolf. ‘You look very pleased with yourself.’
Rohk lifted his head and howled.
An answering howl came from the cover of the forest. A flash of grey fur sped toward them, and Nilkka leaped on Tarin, licking his face. Then Rohk tackled his sister and they tumbled through the snow, yelping and snarling in joy.
‘Tarin! By the Great Mother! Luuka, we’ve found him! And Rohk!’ Kaija hurried through the snow and threw her arms around Tarin. He winced as she grabbed his injured arm, but she didn’t notice. ‘We’ve found you. I thought you were dead!’ Then she stopped and stepped away from him. ‘It is you, isn’t it? It’s not your . . . Spirit?’
‘It’s me.’ Tarin held his arm to his side and smiled weakly. ‘If I was a Spirit, I don’t think my arm would hurt so much.’
Kaija frowned and reached for his arm. Tarin held it away from her.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘Let me see.’
Reluctantly, Tarin let her examine his arm. He bit his lip to stop himself from crying out.
Kaija raised her gaze to his face. ‘It is broken,’ she said. ‘But not badly. I can strap it for you, but we need to find shelter and food before dark.’
‘We were heading for the hot springs,’ Luuka said. He ruffled Rohk’s fur and hugged the wolf. ‘We thought we had lost you both.’
‘The people of Wolf Clan are hard to kill,’ Tarin said. A heavy lump settled in his stomach. He hoped that was true. He turned and looked toward Ice Bringer, but the tip was hidden. A thick layer of fallen snow and rock covered the mountainside, and there was no way back into the caves.
He had lost his chance to find the Mother’s Heart, and even if he found his way back, there was no longer an Offering to give to Her.
His head dropped, his shoulders slumped. The first raindrops fell. With a heavy heart, Tarin turned and followed his friends down the mountainside.
The journey back down the waterfall to the hot springs was long and hard for Tarin. This time, there were no feelings of hope and optimism to spur him onwards. His feet slipped often on the slippery rocks, some loosened from their place by the earth tremors. Fallen trees blocked their path, scratching their faces. They could stop their thirst with the many rivulets running down toward the river, but hunger gnawed their bellies.
Tarin’s broken arm ached constantly. Kaija had used the leather tie around her hair to bind his arm to his side, but each movement was agony and he needed his arm to scramble over the rocks and trees.
‘What if I lashed your arm to a tree branch?’ Kaija asked, as they paused to take a drink from the pool at the base of the waterfall. ‘My mother straps spears to a broken limb, but a tree branch might work just as well.’
Tarin nodded, but didn’t speak. He was finding it hard to breathe. Sweat ran down his face, although his body still felt so cold.
‘You look too white,’ Kaija said. ‘We will camp here.’
‘No.’ Tarin pushed himself to his feet. He no longer cared about himself, but if they didn’t find shelter before night, his friends were in danger. He staggered, his head spinning, but he stayed on his feet.
Kaija bit her lip. ‘Then at least let me strap your arm.’
Luuka stripped a branch from a fallen fir tree and wrapped it in beard-moss to cushion the rough bark. Tarin pressed his lips together as Kaija lashed the branch to his arm and studied the white scar that was left on the tree. The rising sap was like a tear, he thought.
‘As soon as we make camp, I’ll make you some willowbark. Thank the Mother I still have my medicine pouch.’ Kaija tied the leather thong and looked at Tarin with worried eyes. ‘It’s not far now to the springs, then you can rest.’
Tarin let them lead the way, and he followed more slowly. Kaija and Luuka, intent on reaching the springs, didn’t notice Tarin falling further behind. The lower reaches of the forest showed less signs of damage, but a final giant of a pine tree lay across their path. Tarin looked up through the branches to the sky above, now grey with rain. He licked the moisture from his lips.
‘I don’t think I can make this one, Rohk,’ he said to the wolf by his side. Rohk licked Tarin’s fingers and whined at the fallen tree. ‘We could try to go around it,’ Tarin said. ‘What do you think?’ He glanced down at Rohk, who was sniffing around the tree. The wolf sneezed, and jumped backwards in surprise.
Tarin moved forward to look. A nest of twigs lay shattered on the ground and two tiny grey balls of fuzz lay next to it. One of the tiny owl chicks was dead, but the other still breathed; its sides heaved in and out and it chirruped weakly. Tarin dropped to one knee to examine the chick more closely. A shattered wing hung uselessly by its side. Tarin gently scooped his good hand beneath it and picked it up. The chick opened its round yellow eyes and chirped angrily at him.
‘It’s all right,’ Tarin murmured. He stroked the grey down. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you.’ The owl tried to beat its wings. Tarin felt its heart fluttering in its tiny chest and he held it close. He suddenly felt angry, although he wasn’t sure why. His thoughts went to the Earth Mother.
‘I don’t understand why these things happen,’ he said. He had tried his best to reach the mountain and the Mother’s cave. Yet she had rejected him. She had made the earth shake, and he had lost the Offering. He didn’t understand why creatures had to die this way. To kill an animal during a hunt was a matter of survival, but there was no reason for people to kill a she-wolf and leave her pups defenceless, and there was no reason for the one tree a mother owl had built her nest in to crash to the ground.
‘Was that your mother, flying above me before? She would have been frightened by the falling tree, and unable to help you.’
The owl chirruped, and closed its eyes. Rohk sniffed the tiny creature and whined. He nudged it with his nose and the owl made a hissing noise and fluffed out its feathers. Rohk jumped back.
‘Tarin? Where are you?’ Rohk barked sharply at the sound of Luuka’s voice.
‘I’m here.’ Tarin heard Luuka struggling to climb back over the tree. Then his head broke through the branches, and he jumped down into a thick drift of snow. He brushed the white flakes off his legs, pulled pine needles from his hair and grinned at Tarin.
‘Kaija thought you might need help.’
‘Hold this.’ Tarin thrust the owlet into Luuka’s hands.
‘An owl!’ Luuka stared in surprise at the ball of grey fuzz.
It fluttered feebly.
‘And it’s hurt,’ Tarin said. ‘The nest fell from the tree.’
Luuka followed his gaze to the shattered tangle of twigs and the other tiny body. It looked forlorn, lying there in the snow. The corners of his mouth pulled down. ‘Poor thing.’
He nudged the nest with his toe. ‘Grey owls don’t usually build their own nests. I think this was an old goshawk nest, taken over by owls. See? They’ve lined it in moss?’
‘How do you know these things?’ Tarin asked.
Luuka shrugged. ‘I like watching animals. This little fellow looks about a moon cycle old, or a little less. He can’t fly yet.’
‘If you could carry him
over the tree, I think I can manage by myself,’ Tarin said.
Luuka nodded and stroked the owl’s feathers. ‘So soft. Hey! Little one, you can’t bite through my glove.’
Tarin grinned at the sight of the tiny owl attacking Luuka’s outstretched finger, and pulled himself up into the tree with his good arm. Branches scratched his face as he reached for a hand hold in the rough bark. He pushed against the branch he was standing on and forced himself to climb higher. Rohk climbed with him, urging him on whenever he stopped. He couldn’t see Luuka through the thick branches, but he heard his voice.
‘Keep going. It’s easier over the other side.’
Tarin swallowed hard and rubbed his face. Sweat stung his scratches and made them itch. He raised his face to the rain and let it wash the salt from his face.
‘The sky is crying.’ Luuka climbed up next to Tarin and together they looked up at the grey sky. Mist rose from the forest beneath them, rising to meet the heavy, low clouds. ‘We must hurry.’ He took the lead, and Tarin hurried after him, sliding down the branches until solid ground was beneath his feet. Rohk leapt down to join them, and yelped in excitement to see Kaija and Nilkka.
‘You were so long.’ Kaija hurried toward them with a worried look on her face. ‘The springs aren’t far now, and I’ve found a shelter of sorts, and . . . What’s that?’ She stared at the bedraggled chick clasped to Luuka’s chest.
Her brother grinned at her. ‘Haven’t you ever seen an owl before?’
Kaija glared at him. ‘I can see it’s an owl, but what’s it doing here?’
‘His nest was destroyed,’ Tarin explained. He took the chick from Luuka and stroked its head. ‘And he’s hurt.’