by P. C. Cast
Thaddeus cocked his head to the side and studied the old man contemplatively. “Didn’t you just tell me you should have died with the rest of the Council?”
Cyril said nothing, but Thaddeus saw pity in the old man’s eyes.
“Well, maybe you did.”
Cyril looked confused. “No, I told you what happened. I wasn’t with them at the end. I’m here.”
“You’re right. You are here. I think you fell in this ditch as you ran from the fire and you hit your head. It killed you.”
“But I’m not dead.”
Thaddeus ignored him, searching the ditch around them until he found what he needed. Then, quickly and efficiently, he lifted the rock and as the old man stared at him, eyes wide with sudden understanding, he bashed it several times against Cyril’s skull.
“Now you are dead.”
Thaddeus waited, feeling for Cyril’s pulse as blood drained from the old man’s head wound and his body twitched soundlessly. After his pulse slowed and then finally stopped, Thaddeus lifted the dead man, slinging him carelessly out of the ditch—tossing his body toward the path. Smiling at the ease with which he handled the old corpse, Thaddeus scrambled out of the muddy ditch and up the steep incline where Odysseus waited for him. Then he hefted Cyril over his shoulder and picked up Odysseus, holding him snugly in the crook of his other arm while they started back down the trail.
“You see, Cyril, I’ve been thinking, too. And what I’ve been thinking is that it’s time new blood ruled the Tribe. Odysseus and I shared flesh, and now we share everything—intuition, senses, strength. That’s not a disease, or a sickness. It’s a miracle.”
Tucked against his side, Odysseus barked his agreement, and Thaddeus laughed with pleasure.
* * *
“Two apprenticed Healers? Surely more survived than that!” Wilkes stared around the triage area of the old meditation platform. He was horrified by the cries of the wounded and dying—but even more horrified by the lack of trained medical personnel to care for them.
“Keep your voice down. The truth is bad enough. The injured don’t need to know that the rest of us are as frightened as they are.” Ralina, the revered Storyteller of the Tribe, grabbed Wilkes by the wrist and steered him to a relatively secluded section of the crowded meditation platform. She wiped her sweaty face with the back of her blood-spattered tunic and blew out a long, exhausted breath before continuing. “The Healers wouldn’t leave the infirmary. There were too many people there who couldn’t be moved. They decided to stay with the sick and hope that the fire would be stopped before it reached them.” Ralina shook her head sadly. “They all burned, Wilkes. The Healers, the sick and blighted, the old, the newborn infants and their mothers, everyone.” She paused, her shoulders shaking as she fought for control of her grief. “Thank the Sun that Kathleen thought to send her two apprentices with a store of supplies away before they were destroyed by the fire as well.”
“Kathleen was a wise Healer. She’ll be greatly missed,” Wilkes said, trying to reason through the shock that felt as if it was pressed down on him, layer by layer, as he discovered more and more about the tragedy that had struck the Tribe. He leaned against the ornately carved railing and bent to stroke Odin reassuringly. The big Shepherd was, as always, hyperaware of Wilkes’s emotional distress, which was at that moment at an all-time high. “It’s okay, big guy. We’ll get this sorted out. Everything will be okay.”
Ralina’s Bear whined fretfully, and the Storyteller rested her hand on his broad head as he leaned against her for comfort. “How?” Ralina asked softly. “How is everything going to be okay? So many of the Tribe are dead or dying. More wounded keep staggering in here every moment, and we don’t even have a real Healer.”
“We’re going to survive, Ralina. The Tribe is strong.”
“Where is Sol? Why isn’t he here after he stopped the blaze?” she asked.
Wilkes didn’t want to tell her, but there was no point in putting off the inevitable—at least not now that the fire was out and the recovery could begin.
“Ralina, Sol is dead.”
“Oh, sunfire! No.” Ralina slid down the railing, dropping heavily to her butt. She wrapped on arm around Bear and leaned into him as tears dripped down her cheeks. She looked hopelessly up at Wilkes. “Was it too much for him? Did the amount of sunfire needed to save us destroy him?”
Wilkes drew a deep breath and told the truth. “No. Sol was killed at the Farm, where the fire started. It was an accident. Thaddeus was trying to shoot Mari, and Sol pushed her out of the way, taking the arrow meant for her.”
“Wait, what are you talking about? Who is Mari, and how did the fire get put out if Sol was dead?”
“It’s a long, strange story, and I don’t have all of your answers. I can tell you that Mari is a Scratcher—they call themselves Earth Walkers.”
“Earth Walkers?”
“So Mari says. She also says her father was a Companion—one of the Tribe.”
“Bloody beetle balls! That’s impossible!”
“Apparently not. She looks more Companion than Scratcher. Laru’s last pup—the big male Nik’s been hunting for weeks—chose her. And she called down the sunfire that saved us.”
The Storyteller shook her head. “I—I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. I saw it. Nik helped her control the sunfire, but she called it down herself.”
“Nik! Oh, Gods! With Sol and Laru gone, he has no one except the O’Bryans.” Ralina wiped her eyes and then jerked her chin in the direction of a tarp that had been hastily erected on the forest floor, several yards from the meditation platform. Beneath it Wilkes saw mounds of what looked like dirty clothes. Then, with a terrible start, he understood he was looking at bodies—many, many bodies. “Lindy and Sherry O’Bryan are dead, along with their Shepherds. I haven’t seen their son’s body yet, but I assume he was with them. And that means Nik has no one left in this world.” She shook her head sadly. “I know he hadn’t been chosen by a Shepherd yet, but I always believed he would be. Many of us thought he was destined to be Sun Priest after Sol.”
“Laru chose Nik.”
Her eyes widened and joy flashed across her face. “Good for him! Laru is in his prime. I’m so glad he didn’t choose to die with Sol.” She looked around as if trying to find Nik. “But where is he? His presence, with Laru by his side, will calm the Tribe.”
Wilkes set his jaw. “Gone. He left with Mari. Davis and his Cameron left with them, too, as well as that damn Lynx man, Antreas.”
“What? I don’t understand. Gone where?”
“Scratcher territory.”
Ralina was shaking her head back and forth, back and forth, mired in disbelief, when the shouts started. Wilkes turned toward the sound in time to see Argos, the Leader of the Council’s old Shepherd, run into the clearing.
Odin and Bear began to whine in unison, which brought Ralina to her feet. She shared a look with Wilkes, and then they were sprinting to Argos, their Shepherds beside them.
Wilkes reached him first. “Hey, big guy, are you okay?” He dropped beside the canine, running his hands along Argos’s body. The old canine’s face was completely gray. As Wilkes examined him, thoughts cascaded through his mind—that he had known forty-two winters and could not think of a time when Argos hadn’t been by Cyril’s side. Argos was the oldest Shepherd in the Tribe and greatly revered by everyone. “Nothing’s broken. His fur is singed, but he seems okay,” Wilkes told Ralina as Odin and Bear sniffed the old canine, whining in concern.
Then Argos barked sharply and turned to sprint back the way he’d come. The canine stopped, though, to look at Wilkes, barking desperately again.
“It’s Cyril. It has to be,” Ralina said. “He must not have been able to make it back, so he sent Argos. I’ll get a medical pack together and follow him.”
“I’ll come with you. You’ll need help getting him back here.” Ralina nodded, and she and Bear hurried back to the platform. “Argos! We un
derstand! We’re coming. Hang on, big guy.” Odin went to the old Shepherd, touching noses with him and licking him comfortingly while Wilkes paced and tried to think positive thoughts. Cyril must still be alive, or Argos would never have left him.
Ralina was sprinting back to them when more shouts were heard. At first Wilkes couldn’t make out what was being shouted—he could only hear screaming sobs, with words jumbled beneath the cries. When the cries grew closer, he began to understand.
“Oh, sunfire! No!”
“It can’t be!”
“Oh, Gods! No!”
Wilkes’s stomach had already begun to roil with foreboding when Argos’s demeanor changed. The big canine began to whine fretfully. The force of his whines grew, changing to a strangled, keening howl that had chills skittering up and down Wilkes’s spine. Then, right before them, Thaddeus staggered from the forest carrying a body cradled in his arms like a sleeping child.
Argos reacted instantly. He raced to Thaddeus and then froze just before him, as if the canine had been turned to stone.
Thaddeus went to his knees and placed Cyril’s body oh, so gently on the mossy ground. Companions and canines poured from the meditation platform and the forest around them, forming a desperate circle around the old canine and the body of their fallen Lead Councilman.
Argos staggered to his Companion. When he reached Cyril, the Shepherd slowly lay down beside him, stretching his gray muzzle up to tuck it into the crook of the old man’s shoulder. Wilkes saw the Shepherd’s body snuggle against Cyril and then completely relax. Argos closed his eyes, drew a last, long breath, and then he released it with a sigh and the loyal old Shepherd joined his beloved Companion in eternity.
Every canine in the clearing raised his or her muzzle to the sky and howled their sadness to the sun as the Tribe of the Trees wept.
CHAPTER 11
Rigel’s excited barking woke Mari—or, rather, brought her fully conscious. “What’s happening? Rigel? Where’s Rigel?” Her mouth tasted terrible—dry and disgusting. Her head ached, and she felt like it’d been days since she’d eaten.
“He’s here, Mari. Everything is fine. He’s just telling you that you’re home.” Nik relaxed his grip on Mari, and it was then that she realized he’d been carrying her.
“How long have I been unconscious?” Mari asked, rubbing her face and blinking her vision clear, though she was so dizzy that her head felt as if it were filled with smoke.
“You’ve been in and out of consciousness since we got to the lowlands,” Nik said, wiping sweat from his face.
Mari touched his damp cheek. “Oh, Nik, I’m sorry! Let me see your back. You shouldn’t be carrying anyone. Your wound isn’t even fully healed. And your hands! They’re bleeding through the bandages!” She tried to lift his hands to examine them more closely, but dizziness overwhelmed her and she would have fallen had it not been for Nik’s strong arms keeping her upright.
“How about we get inside your burrow and you tell me which one of Sora’s vile teas I can brew to make you feel better?” Nik said.
“Actually, the vile teas are mine. Sora brews delicious tea.” Mari hated the worried expression on his face and made an effort to smile reassuringly up at Nik.
Nik bent and kissed her softly.
“Um, I hate to break up this nice little scene, but the pup has come to a halt sitting in front of that huge nettle thicket. Maybe Mari’s exhaustion has affected him, too?” Antreas said.
Nik grinned at Antreas. “Nope, Rigel has it right. Watch and learn, cat man; watch and learn.”
“So, he’s calling me cat man now, huh?” Antreas grumbled in Bast’s general direction. The big feline looked up from licking herself with an expression that was so long-suffering that had Mari had the energy she would have burst into laughter.
But, having no energy, she called to Rigel, “Bring me my walking stick, sweet boy!” As always, Rigel did exactly as Mari asked, half dragging, half carrying the long, sturdy stick to her. “Thanks, Rigel. And good job getting us home!” With an effort, she crouched and kissed his nose, petting the soft, thick fur at his neck while the young Shepherd wagged with happy relief that she was conscious again. Mari looked at Nik. “There should be another walking stick, a lot like this, hidden under the brambles where Rigel found mine. You’ll need it to help me be sure Davis and Antreas don’t get cut on the way in.”
“Okay, no problem. I’ll find it, and I did watch you and Sora do this, so I think I can safely bring up the rear.” Nik dug around under the dagger-tipped thorns, quickly finding the second stick. “I’m ready if you are.”
Mari rallied her strength—almost home, I can almost rest—and then she moved to the hidden entrance. “All right. Antreas, you and Bast follow right behind me, as close as you can. Then Davis and Cammy. Nik, you and Laru bring up the rear.”
“No problem,” Nik said as Antreas and his Lynx moved to stand beside Mari.
“Uh, hold up just a second,” Davis said.
Mari and Nik turned to him. He and Cammy were a few feet from them—both Companion and Terrier were eyeing the enormous bramble thicket dubiously.
“Yeah?” Nik asked.
“We’re not actually going into that mess, are we?”
“Oh, sorry,” Mari said. “My mind isn’t working like normal, or I would have explained. Yes, we are going into that mess. That mess protects and camouflages my burrow—my home. It’s perfectly safe, but only if you know the way through, so stay close to me.”
Bast finished her toilette and padded over to sniff the area directly in front of Mari. She made an odd little coughing noise that Mari thought sounded out of place for such a graceful creature.
“Yeah, like Bast said—your den’s safe, hidden, protected, and I’m assuming dry?” Antreas said.
“Of course,” Mari said, trying not to sound too defensive. “Contrary to what most of the Tribe of the Trees think, Earth Walker burrows are actually very nice.”
“Well, I’m not part of the Tribe of the Trees, so I don’t have any preconceived ideas about your den or, as you call it, your burrow. I’m really just curious,” Antreas explained.
“Mari’s home is cozy and beautiful,” Nik said.
“Thank you, Nik.” Mari smiled wearily at him. “Okay, so I’m going to go first with Rigel. Antreas and Bast, come right after me. Like I said, stay close to me. Also, keep your arms tight to your sides—those thorns can really cut you up. Davis, you might want to carry Cammy if he’s as nervous as you are.”
“How about I stay out here? Cammy and I’ll rig a cocoon in a tree. I saw a big cedar not far from here that should work. Maybe, um, maybe Nik could bring us out some dinner if it’s not too much trouble?”
Mari just stared at him, wishing she could concentrate better. Davis hadn’t shown any hesitation about following them to her home, but now he had gone pale and his voice sounded strained and strange.
“Did you say a cocoon? I don’t understand,” Mari asked.
“It’s why Companions, especially Hunters, always carry rope and wear travel cloaks. If any of us get caught outside the Tribe at night, we can wrap up with our canine and tie ourselves to the arms of a big tree. It looks kinda like a cocoon, which is why we call it that. And we’re safe,” Davis explained.
“But you’ll be safe in my burrow, too. And dry. And warm.”
“I’ll—um—be fine in a tree, too,” Davis said nervously. “And Cammy and I don’t need to stay dry. We won’t melt.”
“What’s this about?” Nik asked Davis.
Davis wiped a hand across his damp face and blurted, “I’m claustrophobic!”
Mari frowned. “But it’s a burrow, a home—nothing to be claustrophobic about.”
“Dens are good things, man,” Antreas said. “Way better than tying yourself to a tree in a thunderstorm.” His gaze went up to the sky above the huge bramble thicket. “Here’s hoping we can start a hearth fire and cook up something hot for dinner. Don’t see any hearth smoke up t
here.” He sniffed the air, looking oddly Lynx-like. “Don’t smell any, either, though the damnable forest fire might still be messing up my nose, especially since I could swear I caught the scent of baking bread a second ago.”
Mari stared at him, at first confused. Then with a start she realized what he was saying. “Oh no, forest fire or not, you wouldn’t see my hearth fire from here, but let’s hope you do smell bread.” Just thinking of Sora’s fresh-baked bread had Mari’s mouth filling with water.
“You have to come out here to cook?” Antreas shook his head. “No, that won’t do. It’s raining like crazy. I can show you how to make a chimney flue that will work great in a den—if I don’t have to dig through too much rock.”
“Oh, I have a hearth, and many flues. So many that my smoke dissipates all around here. You’ll never track a single Earth Walker hearth fire to a burrow. Instead, if you’re careful and observant, you might notice areas of smoke, drifting foglike around the lowlands, and once in a while you might smell baking bread, or rich mushroom stew—though I promise you’ll never be able to follow those scents to an individual burrow.”
“Huh! That’s a convenient system. Obviously excellent for keeping your den hidden. You’ll have to show me how they’re made sometime.”
Mari raised a brow at the feline Companion. “Only if you get permission from the Great Earth Mother.”
“Guess I’ll have to work on that,” Antreas said, scratching under Bast’s chin while she stretched languidly.
“Just so I’m clear about this—there’s fire inside that burrow in the ground?” Davis asked, looking even paler.
“Well, sure. My hearth fire,” Mari said.
“I—I’m sorry, Mari. I don’t mean to show you any disrespect, but I don’t think I can go in there.”
“Davis,” Nik began after sighing in frustration, but Mari rested a silencing hand on his arm.
“I think I understand how you feel, Davis. When Nik took me to your City in the Trees, I was terrified of how high up we were. I wanted nothing more than to get back on firm ground, but once I was up there, and saw how special it was—how beautiful—I relaxed. And, most important, I trusted Nik to be sure I was safe. Will you trust me, Davis? I give you my word that you’ll be safe inside my burrow, but if you’re still nervous about it once you’re inside I also give you my word that I’ll guide you right back out here so that you can set up your cocoon and I’ll be sure you have a hot meal.”
