by Lori Holmes
Ninmah passed higher overhead and soon all were removing their outer layers, letting their skin breathe as they caught the welcome rays stealing through the protective canopy. The soft undergrowth wore a pretty pattern of light and shadow.
“Nyriaana?” a tentative voice asked.
Nyri looked up from where she had been busy pulling some fleshy roots from the ground. Little Naaya, the only female child and daughter of their youngest Elder, Oraan, was staring at her expectantly. “How do we make the trees grow?”
“Er,” Nyri looked around quickly for help but Daajir was half way up a tree and Kyaati was busy catching the fruit he was dropping down. She was on her own. She turned back to the little girl, trying to think of how to explain this ancient knowledge in terms she would understand. Naaya’s pinched little face stared, waiting patiently. Both of her hands were bent and twisted. Nyri bit her lip, fighting another wave of hopelessness. Poor child.
She was saved by the drone of tiny wings. A bee buzzed lazily through the air and her frown became a smile. The Great Spirit was with her. “Come,” Nyri pointed to the little creature going about its service. “Let’s follow her and see what she does.” Naaya’s eyes lit up and the child followed eagerly after Nyri as she kept the bee in sight. They didn’t have to go far before the insect lighted upon a late flower and set to work. Nyri crouched down.
“Watch her,” she said. “She’s gathering nectar to make honey. The bee is getting what she needs to survive from the flower.”
“I like honey!” Naaya whispered loudly. “Papa got stung last time he tried to get me some.” She giggled softly at the memory.
“I like honey, too,” Nyri agreed. She turned her attention back to the miracle going on before them. “So we know what the bee gets from the flower, but what does the flower get from the bee?”
Naaya appeared perplexed by this so Nyri enlightened her. With a finger, she pointed very carefully at the bee’s fuzzy body and the yellow grains that clung there. “The pollen is sticking to her. Watch what happens when she moves to the next flower.” Sure enough, the obliging little insect took off and buzzed to the neighbouring plant.
“She’s putting the pollen onto the other flower!” Naaya exclaimed.
“Yes. And now the plant can form seeds to make the next generation. The plant and the insect work together to ensure the other’s survival.”
Naaya’s face was alive with wonder.
“And what do the plants do to make the bees come to them to render this service?” Nyri questioned.
The little girl frowned. “They… have pretty colours…” she ventured. Nyri waited. “And they smell nice!”
“Very good! That’s a start. Plants are extremely clever. Perhaps the most ingenious of all of KI’s creations. They have learned how to attract everything they need to them and overcome the greatest of obstacles, sometimes in very incredible ways indeed.”
Naaya nodded. “But how do we get the plants to grow how we want?” she asked, not making the connection.
“Ah,” Nyri said. “Our ancestors were also very clever and close to the Great Spirit. They learned the wisdom of this partnership between the insects and the flowers and used it for their own. They assumed the role of the insect and over time the trees and plants adapted to grow in ways and forms to attract us.”
“Oooooh.” The little girl clapped her deformed hands as best she could. “They were very clever, weren’t they?”
Nyri laughed at her delight. “Yes they were. But even so, trees and plants take time to adapt and grow. Our ancestors had to use our own special gifts to speed things along. Here,” Nyri took the child’s arm, led her to the nearest sapling and crouched down next to it. “Put your hand on this young tree.” Naaya did as she asked. “Now, tell me what you feel.”
“The Great Spirit. He’s inside, coming up from the ground.”
“Yes.” She was perceptive, this little one. “And the Great Spirit is part of you. You know this, you can feel it. A part of him exists within the souls of all of our people. Ninmah herself made us with his essence and gifted us with higher thought, giving us the ability to harness this energy and use it well. Concentrate Naaya. Add your soul, your piece of KI, to the energy within the tree. Extend it through your fingertips. Speed it up, tell him to go faster.”
The little girl’s face screwed up in intense concentration as she did as Nyri asked.
The sapling extended about as much as a gnat’s wing but that did not dishearten Naaya. Face covered in sweat from the effort, she jumped up and down in excitement over what she had done.
“Thank you, Nyri!” she squealed and then ran off to tell her friends of the exciting new things she had learned. Nyri watched after her, smiling.
“You tell blind stories, Nyriaana.” An amused voice broke into her reverie. Nyri looked up to see Kyaati leaning against a tree, watching her with a slight smile. “Despite what you claim, I do believe you’re a natural with children.”
Nyri blushed. She had not known she was being watched.
“Hey! Look there!”
Both girls started at Daajir’s sudden exclamation. He was pointing into the canopy. Nyri followed his direction and spied a bunch of the biggest honey fruits she had seen since they were children.
“Ninmah be blessed,” Kyaati said, looking hungrily into the heights. She smirked at Daajir. “Bring me a few of those and it might go a small way to restoring some of this ‘faith’ you keep insisting I have.”
A slow smile crept over Daajir’s face. An electric vibe travelled between them and Nyri found herself matching his expression. Time to do something else they had not done since they were children.
Neither of them gave any outward signal but in the exact same instant, they turned and bolted in the direction of the tempting fruit, hooting and calling challenges all the way. Daajir reached the base of the tree first and climbed nimbly into the air. Nyri pushed herself to catch him up.
She would not be beaten. She had never lost to Daajir and she wasn’t about to start now. She threw herself recklessly into the tree, swinging herself into the tangle of branches. Her strong fingers and toes sought the best holds while she mapped the tree in her mind, searching for the quickest path to the fruit. The cheers and laughter from the children below spurred her on.
“You’re out of practice, Nyri!” Daajir shouted down, already halfway to the fruit. Nyri’s indignation was quickly tempered by determination. Let him enjoy his lead while he could. She could see the path that would carry her to victory. It was risky. She had no doubt Daajir had seen it and had just as quickly decided against such a dare. But Nyri knew she could do it. Her agility was far superior to Daajir’s.
Balancing carefully on a broader limb, she crouched and then jumped as high as she could, grabbing the branches above and pulling herself up, twisting and turning with reckless abandon, often catching a branch only at the very last moment. She knew if her timing was off by the merest fraction, she would tumble to the ground beckoning far below.
Her timing was never out and soon she was even with Daajir, revelling in his consternation.
“Careful, Nyriaana!” Kyaati admonished from below, her concern thick on the air. “It’s not life and death, you know!”
Huh. Maybe not in the way Kyaati was thinking. Nyri, however, would never be able to live with Daajir’s smugness if he won. With a final burst of effort, she pulled herself ahead and victoriously grabbed the first of the golden fruits.
She grinned triumphantly at Daajir as he caught up. “Out of practice? Not a chance.”
He was disgruntled. He hated losing as much as she did. They were both too proud for their own good.
“Well, now it’s been decided that Nyriaana is still the greatest climber that ever lived,” Kyaati called dryly. “How about throwing some of that fruit down here?”
The children had gathered around her and were waiting eagerly. Omaal, knowing he could not play the pending game, wandered off a little way and d
istracted himself with a young maamit sitting in the low branches. With his charge occupied, Batai curled up at the base of a tree and closed his eyes.
“Catch!” Daajir pulled a second fruit from the tree and tossed it into the air. Squealing, the children ran about, snatching up the falling fruit in their arms. Daajir laughed along with them. Nyri’s heart filled with joy at the sight of his carefree face. She had almost forgotten what Daajir’s smile looked like. It was wonderful to see her friend and cousin behaving how he used to when they were children. He constantly acted as if their people’s survival and way of life rested squarely upon his shoulders alone. Such priggish self-righteousness was what made it hard for Nyri to be around him much of the time.
The game lasted until all of the fruit was collected and safely stored. Nyri climbed back to the earth with Daajir, breathless and happy. They saw the bulging baskets and their smiles widened. Nyri was hard pressed to imagine a more pleasant sight.
Daajir turned his gaze towards Ninmah, shielding his eyes against the rays breaking through the rippling canopy as he judged their angle. “We should be getting back now.”
There were a few groans of protest from the children but Nyri could tell they did not really mean it. They were worn out.
Making sure no fruit had been missed; Nyri hoisted her two heavy baskets onto her shoulders. Daajir plucked Kyaati’s from her hands and carried it off before she could argue. Her mouth opened and closed in silent protest. Nyri hid a smile as the children skipped ahead, eager for home.
She followed slowly in their wake. She was feeling so unusually happy and content out here in the groves. She had not expected to find such solace on the Gathering and she found herself wanting to prolong the feeling for as long as she could. Maybe she could slip away without Daajir’s notice.
Daajir would never agree to let her stay out here alone so far from the tribe. Nyri glanced ahead. Daajir and Kyaati were conversing animatedly. She suppressed another smile and dropped behind further still. Within moments, her companions were lost in the trees; they had not noticed her absence.
Daajir would be furious when he discovered that she had strayed alone but Nyri quieted her guilt at causing him stress with the promise that she would not be long. The forest was peaceful. She could not detect the barest shiver of a disturbance. A few moments of freedom would do no harm.
Strolling now with no particular destination in mind, Nyri allowed herself to bask in the glory of her surroundings. The forest pulsed all around, alive and vibrant. A fallen tree, bathed in a pool of Ninmah’s light, beckoned her. She sat gratefully, removing the two heavy baskets from her aching shoulders. Placing her palms against the tree’s soft, mossy covering, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
For a stolen moment, she thought of nothing but the warmth on her face, the breeze brushing her cheeks and the moss under her fingertips. The trees sang amongst themselves, creating a soft backdrop to a bird’s sweet music somewhere far above.
What bird?
Nyri’s eyes jolted open as her fingers curled in agony. She had remembered his voice so clearly in that moment that it startled her and she found herself looking around in hope before she could prevent it. She screwed her eyes tight shut, berating herself for such foolishness. Did you really expect to see him standing there? But the sound of that song had torn back the seasons until Nyri was almost a child again, sitting high in a tree, playing a game with her best friend. A time of happiness and almost innocence.
And as quickly as that, her brief moment of happiness fled.
She wrapped her arms against her chest in an attempt to protect herself from the onslaught of sorrow and yearning. Shut up! She thought at the bird and his suddenly annoying song. Nyri was relieved when he flew away, taking his haunting music with him. She sighed, balling her fists in frustration. She wondered if she would ever get over this loss. The ghost of his presence never seemed to leave her, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. I wish I could have saved you… It was my fault.
Straightening, Nyri decided it was time to go back. She really was being stupid staying out alone like this. Straying from home was the reason her life had fallen apart in the first place. She reached down to pluck the food-stuffed baskets from the ground.
A low whine caused her to pause. Nyri lifted her head to see Batai walking not far from where she sat. The wolf was alone. Her heart fluttered anxiously. Daajir and Kyaati must have already made it home and returned Omaal to his parents, freeing the wolf to go hunting. She had been gone longer than she thought. Daajir would be furious.
But even as she considered it, Nyri knew this was not the case. She could still sense Daajir and Kyaati’s energies on the edge of her outer awareness. They were nowhere near home yet. Her frown deepened. Batai was not focused on hunting or finding his pack. As the wolf drew closer, sniffing the ground, waves of distress came rolling from him. His frantic energy was like a slap to the face.
He had lost Omaal.
Nyri was on her feet before she was conscious of moving. Hot and cold all at once, she struggled to remember the last time she had seen the boy. With a sharp gasp, she realised she had not laid eyes on him since she and Daajir had been in the tree throwing fruit. Amid all the high spirits and laughter, Nyri had not given the child a second thought. Now he was gone.
If anything had happened to the boy, she would never forgive herself.
Batai’s whines of distress became more acute. Reaching out with her own senses, Nyri moved to Batai’s side. “Where is he, Batai? Find him, quickly!”
As the words left her mouth, the quiet of the forest was shattered by the bloodcurdling scream of a child.
They were already too late.
4
Predator
“Daajir! Kyaati!” Nyri screamed, throwing her distress to the air for anyone to hear. She knew she should wait. It was stupid to run into danger alone but there was no time. Nyri abandoned her baskets to the undergrowth and ran. The child’s scream had come from the east. From the Pits. If the child had fallen then he was surely dead.
Frantic, Nyri searched the energies ahead. No, she could feel him. The boy was still alive but he was in mortal danger. His panic jabbed like thorns against Nyri’s senses.
“I’m coming, Omaal!” she threw the promise out in both voice and soul. “Hang on!”
She pushed herself to move faster but as she did so, something else grazed across her hypersensitive awareness. A sinister presence lurking just on the edge… Nyri concentrated harder. Her heart, already elevated with anxiety, thudded wildly in panic as she understood.
No!
She was never going to be fast enough. Nyri was made for climbing, not running. This flight was a fruitless effort. Even if the child could be spared from the Pits, then something altogether more deadly would surely take him, regardless of her presence. Attracted by the child’s cries of distress, Nyri could feel the single-minded focus of a predator zeroing in on its prey.
A blur of dark fur blasted past her, reminding Nyri that she was not quite alone. Sprinting through the trees, she ignored the growing burn in her lungs until finally she saw him. Only his head and arms protruded from the edge of a Pit, his small hands scrambled desperately at anything he could reach, trying to save himself from the deadly maw beckoning below.
“Help me! Somebody!” Omaal sobbed. “Help!”
Nyri was close.
Closer still was the cat.
There she lurked, shoulders rocking, readying for the spring. A monstrous predator. Never before had Nyri seen such a Child of the Great Spirit with her own eyes, only shivered at the tales. Grishnaa, they had named it. Thick set and armed with razor claws. Two long, blade-like teeth curved down past her white chin. Nyri’s stride faltered at the sight. It was surely the same beast that had killed Omaal’s own grandfather.
“Omaal!” she cried.
Too late. With a snarl the cat burst forth; ripping claws seeking the child in her sights. They slashed out,
cutting into the boy’s shoulders and Omaal’s cry split the air.
“Batai!” Nyri screamed.
Snarling furiously, the great wolf barrelled into the cat just a second too late. With no apparent thought for his own safety and with Omaal’s screams of shock and panic spurring him on, Batai attacked the monster head on, a beast half again his own size and bulk. His bone-crushing fangs were bared and agape. The hairs on Nyri’s arms rose at the sight of his grisly expression.
The force of Batai’s charge knocked the unprepared feline off her feet and into the air away from the stricken child. Without thinking, Nyri raced to the edge of the Pit behind the wolf, catching hold of Omaal’s arms just as the boy began to topple back into the space below. His shoulders were slashed and bloodied. She dragged him up, pulling him to her and away as Batai faced down their quarry.
The cat had been taken unawares by the wolf’s body blow but with surprising agility she had twisted and landed firmly on her paws. Now she crouched, spitting and assessing. Her eyes flickered to Nyri, then back to Batai. Easy prey and only one wolf to challenge her. With no pack to support Batai, she judged the confrontation to be in her favour. She coiled, ready to fight for her prize.
Desperate, Nyri tried to reach out to her but the cat was too focused, she had no room or care for Nyri in her thoughts or soul. She did not know or understand. The Great Spirit within drove her to do what He had created her for, to weed out the weak and the sickly. She would fight to the death to survive.
The standoff broke with a vicious snarl and the cat struck out at Batai with her forepaws, slashing and ripping. The wolf’s thick fur offered only a little protection to those hooked claws. Nyri stared fearfully at the long fangs reaching down past the cat’s snarling lips. If she got a hold on Batai with those, it would be over.
