Viper's Daughter

by Michelle Paver

  He held out Torak’s axe, knife and slingshot, the safe-passage stick, and a driftwood bow with a quiver made of woven kelp. The arrows it held were fletched with kittiwake feathers and barbed with glossy black flint. And there was another weapon: three rawhide thongs an arm’s length long, knotted together at one end and weighted at the other with small slices of bone. ‘These are slingstones. You know how to use them?’

  ‘I think so, my friend Dark showed me how.’

  ‘Wear them round your waist and tie them with a slipknot: one tug and you’re ready to throw.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ said Torak.

  ‘Waste of gear if I don’t.’ He paused. ‘Your wolf…’

  ‘He’s not “my” wolf, he’s my pack-brother.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Like a friend, but closer.’

  Orvo looked puzzled. ‘Stay watchful on the fells,’ he muttered. ‘In summer brown bears roam the hills eating mushrooms and berries. Never camp on the shore, ice bears hunt for carcasses thrown up by the Sea. And don’t camp by a noisy stream or you won’t hear a bear coming.’

  Torak made a face. ‘That doesn’t leave much.’

  The ice river creaked and groaned. Torak heard ice demons booming and hammering to get out. He steered well clear of it, but its freezing breath rocked the skinboat.

  Wolf sat tensely in front of him. He hated being back in a boat, but he couldn’t have followed on land. Only a bird could have crossed this vast, chaotic river of ice.

  A cold day, although thanks to the White Foxes, Torak hardly felt it. If it rained he could wear his seal-hide parka and leggings with the fur on the outside to repel the wet; if it was cold he could wear them with the fur against his skin. He also had a fawn-skin jerkin, warm musk-ox wool socks and thigh-high boots of bearded sealhide with tough flipper-skin feet lined with moss. His salmon-skin gauntlets were strung on reindeer tendons so he couldn’t lose them, and a pouch at his waist held a spare pair of salmon-skin socks, and spiked bone bars to strap to his feet for walking on ice: Tanugeak called them ‘raven claws’.

  The White Foxes’ gifts far exceeded the value of the earthblood they’d accepted in return. A waterproof sleeping-sack of seal fur, lined with eider duck skins with the feathers left on; a scrap of reindeer fur to sit on in the boat; and best of all, an eyeshield of polished antler with a notch for the bridge of his nose so that it fitted his face. The eye-slits were as narrow as knife-cuts: as well as shielding him from the glare, they sharpened his sight.

  Tanugeak’s final gift was a spare knife carved like a lemming gripping the flint blade in its paws. Torak had tied it to his calf under his leggings. Renn did that too, it made him feel closer to her.

  Thinking of that now, he felt angry and humiliated. Did she miss him as much as he missed her? Did she? Maybe Inuktiluk was right, and she was better off with Naiginn. But why was she with him at all?

  Until now, Torak had never been jealous. He’d had no reason to be. Even when Renn had secrets from him, he’d always known he could count on her.

  And I can now, he told himself firmly.

  That didn’t prevent the fierce heat beating in his blood.

  He passed a mountain he remembered: three black peaks rising from a snowfield, like ravens on an ice floe. Somewhere up there was a cave, the Eye of the Viper. Three winters ago he’d been lucky to get out alive.

  This was the furthest north he’d ever been. Not even Inuktiluk had ventured beyond the Three Peaks. Few clans did, except for the Narwals.

  Wolf was scratching his flanks again. Torak crumbled a little bloodstone and rubbed it in his pack-brother’s fur, making them both sneeze. Wolf stopped scratching, but he was still miserable. Can’t we go ashore?

  The weather closed in, Sea and sky melting to grey obscurity dotted with islands. Which way to go?

  It flashed across Torak’s mind that he could spirit walk in a bird and find out. But spirit walking was dangerous. He never knew the strength of a creature’s souls until he was inside them, and while his name-soul and clan-soul became bird, his body would lie unconscious and vulnerable, only his world-soul keeping it alive. Also, flying would anger the north wind. Torak had told it he would never fly again.

  Debating what to do, he paddled into a bay tucked behind a headland. Wolf splashed into the shallows and made for a stream while Torak hauled the skinboat onto the shingle.

  A snow owl perched on a rock above the shore. Its yellow eyes were ringed with black and it glared a warning like an angry ghost.

  Torak licked his lips. ‘All right,’ he called to the guardian of the Far North. ‘I won’t spirit walk. I’ll fill my waterskin and leave.’

  The owl spread its wings and glided away on the wind.

  Wolf was running up and down by the stream, sniffing. It took Torak no time at all to spot the tracks. A man’s booted feet – Torak could tell he was young because the toe-prints were deeper than the heels – and beside them the smaller, lighter bootprints of a girl.

  They were Renn’s. Some people fling out their feet like a duck, others turn their feet inwards like a crow. Renn walked in a straight line, like a wolf.

  The tracks were fresh. Torak followed them to a boggy patch where she’d picked cloudberries. Cloudberries were her favourites; it was a joke between them that she never left any for him. She’d stripped these bushes bare, except for a single dark-amber berry. Torak put it in his mouth. Burnt-honey sweetness exploded on his tongue.

  Wolf stood facing the wind. His tail was taut, his head tilted: he’d smelt something other than prey. He glanced at Torak, then back to the headland.

  Waves crashed against it and beyond it rose a drift of windblown smoke.

  Wolf was angry. Because of the pack-sister he’d had to leave his mate and cubs and follow Tall Tailless over these treeless lands where the prey saw him coming from many lopes away. He’d been stuck in that horrible floating hide with nothing to do but be sick, while the Great Wet heaved and murmured and the giant fish yowled in the deeps.

  And now at the bottom of the hill the pack-sister was calmly kneeling by a Bright Beast-that-Bites-Hot. She looked and smelt different and she wasn’t alone. Crouching beside her was a young male tailless: a smiling pale-pelted stranger. What did this mean? Wolf raced back to tell Tall Tailless.

  He didn’t need to. Tall Tailless had also climbed the hill. His eyes were hard and his face had gone stiff. Wolf knew he was chewed up inside with love and jealousy and anger and hurt.

  The pack-sister had seen them. So had the unknown tailless. Slowly they rose to their feet and watched Tall Tailless walk down the hill towards them.

  Wolf followed at a wary distance. He could feel the tension crackling in his fur. With taillesses as with wolves, two males and one female meant only one thing: a fight.

  ‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ said the Narwal boy, backing away with a rueful smile.

  ‘Thanks, Naiginn,’ Renn said without taking her eyes from Torak.

  Torak took off his eyeshield and stared coldly at the boy.

  His smile faded. Shaking his head, he raised both hands: I don’t want a quarrel.

  We’ll see about that, thought Torak.

  The White Foxes hadn’t warned him that Naiginn was handsome. And they were right, he looked nothing like a Narwal. Long fair hair, light-blue eyes, regular features; the beginnings of a beard limning his jaw with gold. Torak hated him on sight.

  In silence he watched Naiginn trudge across the fells. When the boy was out of earshot, he turned to Renn.

  She stood on the other side of the fire so that he saw her through a shimmering haze. Ever since she’d left, he’d imagined what he would say when he found her. But now… She didn’t even look like Renn. That short hair, tendrils caressing her neck like little black snakes. Her eyes looked black too, though they were really dark-brown. Maybe that was because her skin was white from the ash she’d used to hide her clan-tattoos.

  The ash had oblitera
ted her freckles, including the one at the corner of her mouth that he particularly liked. This enraged him more than anything. He wanted to shake her and kiss her and yell at her all at once. And she just stood there, huge-eyed, keeping the fire between them.

  At last he found his voice. ‘Tanugeak told me you’d dyed your hair. If you painted your mouth black you’d look like your mother.’

  She flinched. ‘I know you’re angry with me,’ she said in a low voice.

  He snorted.

  ‘How did you find me?’

  ‘What does that matter?’

  Wolf stood some distance away, watchful and on edge. Renn asked Torak if Darkfur and the cubs had come too.

  ‘Of course not, the cubs are too young. Because of you, Wolf had to leave them behind. You broke up the pack.’ He paced up and down, clenching and unclenching his fists. ‘Can you imagine what that did to him?’

  Her chin went up. ‘I did what I had to.’

  ‘Have you any idea what it’s been like?’

  ‘Torak—’

  ‘Having to ask strangers if they’d seen you? Having to track you as if you were prey?’

  ‘I couldn’t have stayed. I couldn’t risk hurting you—’

  ‘You could have told me!’

  ‘No, I couldn’t. I left so that I wouldn’t hurt you. Didn’t Dark tell you?’

  ‘You couldn’t have hurt me more than you did when you left.’

  ‘Yes, I could, I nearly shot you in the head! What if next time I’d killed you?’

  ‘That was an accident!’

  ‘And the other times? Trust me, Torak, I wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t been convinced—’

  ‘Trust you?’ he shouted. ‘How can I trust you after this?’

  Wolf set back his ears and glanced from one to the other.

  ‘If I had been in danger,’ Renn said steadily. ‘If leaving me had been the only way to keep me safe, you would have done it in a heartbeat. You know you would!’

  She was right, but he wouldn’t admit it. Why are we fighting? he thought suddenly. I love her and she loves me, that’s all that matters. Then he saw Naiginn on the fell and his anger surged back. ‘So how does he fit in?’ he said savagely.

  Renn hesitated, which made him even angrier. ‘I didn’t believe it when they told me. You with some stranger? It didn’t make sense!’

  ‘I met him by chance, I’d got into a riptide and—’

  ‘And he just happened along?’

  ‘You are so completely on the wrong track it’s almost funny. You’ve no reason to be jealous. Naiginn helped me—’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he did!’

  ‘You’ve no idea how stupid you’re going to feel when I tell you.’

  ‘You’re the stupid one! Taking up with a Narwal? Don’t you know they call women half-men? They have to walk three paces behind and eat maggots, they’re not even allowed to speak without permission!’

  ‘Naiginn’s not like that.’

  ‘He’s a Narwal!’ roared Torak. ‘They’re all like that!’

  Wolf tucked his tail between his legs and fled.

  ‘Have you finished?’ Renn’s tone was cool, but her shoulders were up to her ears and she was compressing her lips to stop them trembling.

  That went through Torak like an arrow. In two paces he’d crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ she said against his chest.

  ‘It’s been horrible since you left. And now finding you with him. And looking so different!’

  ‘You look different too. Where’d you get those clothes?’

  ‘White Foxes. What about you?’

  ‘They gave me some. The rest I made … before I left.’

  ‘Ah, yes, in secret. Behind my back.’

  ‘I hated that! Those awful days wondering what to do. You do know how much I hated it?’

  He looked down at her. He noticed she was wearing his headband, the one he thought he’d lost. Had she noticed that he was wearing the wrist-guard she’d given him?

  Their eyes met and they exchanged tentative smiles. Reaching up, she pushed a strand of hair from his forehead. With his forefinger he touched the hidden freckle at the corner of her mouth.

  Footsteps crunched towards them. They sprang apart.

  ‘Sorry.’ Naiginn grinned. ‘I came back too soon, I’ll go—’

  ‘Yes, go,’ snarled Torak.

  ‘No, stay,’ said Renn.

  ‘Why should he?’ said Torak. ‘He’ll be wanting to get back to his clan. Won’t you, Naiginn? You helped her, but now I’m here so you can go.’

  To Torak’s intense irritation, Naiginn turned to Renn and said calmly, ‘Haven’t you told him?’

  ‘Told me what?’ said Torak. ‘Renn, what’s this about?’

  She looked at him. ‘You’re not going to believe this. At first I didn’t believe it myself. But Naiginn told me so many things that he couldn’t possibly have known—’

  ‘Believe what?’ cried Torak.

  Renn glanced at Naiginn, then back to Torak. She took a breath. ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘I know you don’t believe me but it’s true,’ said Renn. ‘Naiginn is my brother. His mother was the Viper Mage.’

  ‘So why’d you never mention him before?’ said Torak.

  ‘I didn’t know he existed! I thought it was just me and Hord. It never occurred to me there was anyone else.’

  ‘Because there ISN’T!’ yelled Torak. ‘He made up the whole thing!’

  ‘Why would I do that?’ Naiginn said reasonably.

  ‘How should I know?’ retorted Torak.

  ‘Torak, listen to yourself!’ snapped Renn. ‘Do you really think I’m so easily fooled?’

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder.’

  Flinging up her arms, she stalked off. Then she marched back. ‘Just hear what he has to say, will you?’

  Torak folded his arms on his chest.

  ‘I understand why you’re suspicious,’ said Naiginn. ‘But it’s true, the Viper Mage was my mother.’ He squatted to feed driftwood to the fire. ‘One summer my father was on the fells when he saw a woman walking towards him out of a blaze of sunlight. She said her name was Ankanau. She said she came from the sun.’

  He paused, watching the flames. ‘She stayed with him for two summers. She had me. Then she left. My father waited but she didn’t come back. He stared at the sun for so long he went blind. I’ve hated the sun ever since.’ He fed another stick to the fire. ‘In our clan if a man can’t hunt, we strangle him. They didn’t strangle my father because he’s our Mage. It would have been better if they had. She broke his heart. When Renn told me she was dead, I was glad.’

  ‘Sounds like her, doesn’t it?’ Renn said bitterly.

  ‘Lots of women leave their mates,’ Torak flung back.

  ‘And their children?’ Naiginn said in a hard voice. ‘Because of her I always felt separate. Like my sister.’

  ‘Half-sister,’ muttered Torak. ‘If that.’

  ‘Oh, Torak!’ cried Renn.

  ‘No, he’s right,’ said Naiginn. ‘You and I had different fathers, which makes us half-brother and -sister. But we’re still bone kin.’

  Torak set his teeth.

  ‘It’s true,’ insisted Renn. ‘He described our mother exactly, including her clan-tattoos, and he’s never even seen a viper!’

  ‘If she left when he was a baby, how could he know what she looked like?’

  ‘Because she came back,’ said Naiginn. ‘I was seven. She stayed for two summers, as she had before. When winter came and ice conquered the Sea, she left – this time for ever. She broke my father’s heart all over again.’

  Despite himself, Torak could see a resemblance between Naiginn and Renn: the same high-boned features. But Renn’s face was alive with her thoughts and feelings, like sunlight on fast water – while Naiginn’s had a curious immobility, even when he smiled; and he rarely blinked.
r />   Torak realized they were watching him. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Suppose – just suppose – he is your half-brother. What difference does it make? He’s nothing to do with why you came north.’

  ‘Yes, he is. Tell him, Naiginn.’

  The Narwal boy rose. ‘A while ago my father, Marupai, had a dream. He dreamt all the prey disappeared and our people were starving. Then a raven flew up from the south. It had a broken wing, my father healed it, and in return the raven brought back the prey and our people were saved. My father sent me south to find the raven.’ He paused. ‘When I first met Renn I thought she was a Sea-eagle. Then the spray washed the ash from her cheek and I saw her clan-tattoo.’ He smiled. ‘I knew I’d found my raven.’

  ‘She’s not your raven,’ growled Torak.

  ‘Torak, believe me, I was as astonished as Renn when we found out we were kin! But surely now you understand? Only Renn can help my clan, and only Marupai can help her! If anyone can solve the riddle, he can. He can put an end to whatever is endangering your life!’

  Torak glanced from Naiginn to Renn, then back to Naiginn. He shook his head. ‘You’re asking me to believe that out of all the hunters in the Far North she just happens to come across you? And you just happen to be the half-brother she never knew she had? And your father just happens to be the only man who can help her?’ He turned to Renn. ‘You actually believe this?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Because it’s true!’ cried Naiginn. ‘Renn and I were meant to find each other! And whether you believe it or not, Torak, believe this: I will save my clan. I will take her north to our settlement at Waigo and I will take her to Marupai!’

  ‘Don’t you mind when he talks about “taking” you north, as if you were a spare paddle?’ Torak asked Renn.

  ‘He doesn’t mean it like that.’

  ‘Yes, he does, Narwals treat women as if they’re things.’

  ‘As far as you’re concerned, whatever he says is wrong.’

  He didn’t reply.