Win pulled her ashore. Chocolate water dribbled from her mouth, and she was still struggling to breathe. She shook herself violently, splattering Win. He blinked and wiped the brackish water from his face. She collapsed on the soft, swampy grasses.
“The crocodile—what happened?”
“Dead.” The single word echoed weakly in his head.
Win collapsed beside her. He gritted his teeth. He’s failed again; he’s been too late. Lady Kala was alive, but only because of her own courage and strength. He had done nothing to help.
Lady Kala stood and shook herself vigorously. “I just defeated a white crocodile, the beast that the Zendi consider lucky. I wager that I could even defeat a Zendi Warrior.” Her chest swelled. “I could join a wild pack and not be ashamed of what I could contribute.”
Win lay on his back, refusing to look at her. Far, far overhead the blue sky was half hidden by the cliff walls. He tested the Finding for the Well of Life. It was just as clear as ever, and the pull was back toward the river and farther down the cliff wall.
“We must Find the Well first; then you can join a pack. I still have the Finding, but are you sure you want to follow me? I–” He broke off, ashamed to admit his cowardice. But she could read his mind anyway, couldn’t she? She would know, if not now, then later, because he couldn’t always shield his thoughts. He leaned up on his elbows. “I should have dived in and Found you.”
Lady Kala sat beside him on her haunches and fixed him with a gaze that rooted him to the ground. “Is that what happened with your sister? You froze?”
Numbly Win nodded. “I told them I was too late. But I wasn’t. I Found her. I just froze. I stood there frozen in fear and let her try to come to me. That’s why she fell. She took a step toward me.”
Lady Kala tilted her head to the side. “If you had dived in while I was fighting the crocodile, what could you have done?”
“Nothing.”
“And you aren’t responsible for your sister’s fall; you were just a few seconds too late. She was foolish to be so close to the Rift on such a foggy night.” Lady Kala sighed in exasperation. “The Heartland and the Prince will live or die depending on what we do. We must work together. I forgive you for not diving in for me.”
“Thank you.” The heavy press of Win’s conscience eased a bit.
“Now, which way?”
“The Finding goes this way.”
Lady Kala’s hair was still wet, matted, and untidy. The smell of it mingled with the stench of swamp water. When they splashed through the river to the opposite side, Win offered to stop and wash her, but she refused.
“I’ve already caused us to waste too much time. I will wear the mud as a penance.”
The afternoon was miserable with heat and bugs that, attracted by the swamp smell, swarmed around them. The heat baked the mud on Lady Kala into a hard crust that flaked off as she walked.
The sun dipped below the cliff, and late afternoon shadows covered the land. Still, the Finding led them along the riverbank. There was no path, and the undergrowth often forced them to splash along the water’s edge. Fragrant white flowers that grew in patches were closing for the night, hiding their bright yellow pollen from the bees that buzzed and hovered around them. Vines hung from cottonwood trees, making curtains of green that hid the next bend of the river from their sight. Win found himself straining to see the next curve, hoping the Finding would finally lead across the river and up the cliff. Sweat poured down his back behind his pack, and he kept trying to adjust it, so it wouldn’t hurt his shoulders. Still, the Finding led upriver.
They paused on a sandbar to catch their breaths. Suddenly Lady Kala shivered from head to toe. Mosquitoes swarmed around her, and she snapped at them fiercely.
“Wash me,” she demanded. “How dare you let me stay so filthy?”
“I tried—”
“Fool! Do you think I should endure this humility all afternoon?”
Win shook his head in disbelief. In spite of her changing moods, though, he was just relieved she was willing to forgive him, relieved they were traveling together, and he wasn’t alone in the Rift. He washed her with the clean sand, then combed out the major tangles. By then she refused a full grooming.
“We must move on,” she said.
Win led the way again, and within a short time the river finally began to turn in toward the cliff, and he began to hope they would at least Find the path upward that night. The river became narrower and ran faster over great jumbles of stones. It turned into a circular valley that looked like a straight-sided bowl with a slot in one side. At the far end a thick stream of silver water cascaded down, falling, falling, weaving and curling in the wind, and falling still farther to a black pool below, then racing over and around boulders into the river they had followed. A dull roar filled the valley as the din of water hitting water echoed and reechoed off the limestone cliffs.
“The Finding leads straight into the waterfall,” Win said.
“Do we swim up the waterfall?” Lady Kala asked scornfully. She sighed. “Ah, once more I doubt your skills. I am not used to trusting the navigation skills of a human when my own nose is usually so much better. Lead on, then, though it makes no sense.”
“Thank you.” Win strode purposefully toward the black water. He gazed into its depths, but it was dark and foreboding in the growing dusk. It could have been two feet deep or twenty feet deep; there was no way to tell.
To scout the valley, Win decided to climb a large pine tree that hugged the cliff wall. He jumped and caught the bottom branch. Then he pulled himself upward, drinking in the pine scent and hoping it would wash away the stench of sweat and swamp water. Finally he stopped on a large branch and sat with his back to the trunk. Coming in, they had skirted the left side of the valley and seen nothing unusual. From this height he could see the entire valley. On the right, tucked up under the cliff face, were two leather tents and a large fire ring enclosed by smoke-blackened stones.
Win scanned the rest of the valley. Nothing. Looking at the campsite more carefully, he saw that the fire pit was empty, and the skins of the tents were thrown back carelessly. Win doubted the campsite was occupied. Probably just a camping spot for hunters. Hunters? People in the Rift! It wasn’t a Zendi camp; they used woven tents instead of skin tents. Maybe it was the Wolf Clan, from whom Hazel had stolen the Wolf Amulet. But did they live in the Rift or above? He had just assumed that if the people of G’il Rim couldn’t descend, any people from the other side of the Rift couldn’t descend either. Yet, if the camp belonged to people from above, they must have some way down.
Suddenly he was excited. He had almost begun to doubt the Finding himself. If people could descend into the Rift, then he and Lady Kala could ascend the same trail. The trail must be close; the Finding must be correct as usual.
He slid down the tree trunk and told Lady Kala what he’d found. “Hunt for our supper. We’ll eat and rest, and when it gets dark, we’ll see where the Finding leads.”
“Hunt? I should hunt when I’m so tired?”
Win turned back and knelt beside the Tazi hound. “Lady Kala, it is as you say: the Heartland needs the waters of healing. Tired, dirty, hungry, footsore, grieving, despairing—none of those things matter.” He drew a shivering breath and for a moment fingered the white rock in his pocket. “I long for a warm bed and a bowl of Hazel’s stew, but we dare not stop for any reason. There is only the task that lies before us.”
“It is as you say.” Lady Kala lifted her head, a princess again. She disappeared into the shrubs around them.
Win gathered wood and started a fire. When Lady Kala brought him a rabbit and a partridge, he gutted, skinned, and roasted the meat. While it cooked, he gathered dried rushes from around the pool and twisted them into torches in case they needed them while traveling at night. He stored them in his backpack, then sat beside the fire and waited for the meat to finish cooking.
Night closed in and stars glittered brightly above them. Win
worried about the trail to the surface and the camp with tents and smoke-blackened firestones and the people they might meet in the land on this side of the Rift and whether—suddenly the thought occurred—Hazel might be lying abed, sick with the plague like the Prince.
Grease dripped from the meat and sizzled in the fire.
Glancing at Lady Kala, Win started hesitantly, “You asked about Zanna.”
“Yes, tell me something about her.”
“It is a small thing, but the fire reminds me. Once we went hunting and lay together in a blind scooped out of the hot sand and covered by a piece of sand-colored jute, so we were invisible. I sat patiently, waiting for game to cross a trail to a spring. When a big desert jackrabbit came bringing her two babies to drink, Zanna’s eyes grew side, and she held back my bow and arrow.
“‘Not a mother,’ she whispered. Other girls would have oohed or aahed about the ‘sweet babies.’ Not Zanna. Her wide-eyed respect made me obey her.
“Later, after we had shot three male jacks, I cooked one for her over a small fire, and she ate her fill. She licked the sweet fat from her fingers and smiled at me, content to be with her big brother.”
Lady Kala lay with her head on her paws, listening quietly. “You miss her.”
Win nodded but didn’t trust himself to say more. The fire crackled, and he shook himself, then twisted a rabbit leg to test if it was done. When it moved easily, he took the meat from the spit and shared it with Lady Kala. They gulped the hot meat. He licked his fingers and wished there was more. Instead he turned to Lady Kala.
“May I ask a question? What is it about the coyotes...”
“That entices me?” Lady Kala was silent a moment. “Have you heard the story of how the Tazis came to Jamila Kennels?”
Win shook his head.
“Jamila. It means ‘beautiful.’ My ten-great-grand-dame, Jamila, was beautiful. King Andar’s grandfather, King Ottar, traveled several years as Prince before he became King. He journeyed far from the Heartland and brought back many treasures. It is said he traveled to a place where the desert extends for days without end. A nomadic tribe, fiercer even than the Zendi, lived there, riding to battle on elegant steeds with a Tazi riding behind them. The Tazis are greatly revered by the warriors. Tazis choose their own warriors, bonding for life. Some never choose a warrior, and they live free among the dunes.”
“Instead of kennels–”
“Yes, the kennels. Long ago Jamila chose to bond with King Ottar though it meant leaving her home behind. She carried a litter in her belly, and from that litter have come the gazehounds of Jamila Kennels. The kennels are luxurious, yet I long for a life of freedom that I hear about only in stories. My training for the Kennel Guard is finished, and it was time for me to decide my future. If not for the plague, I should have already chosen either to bond with a man for life or to serve in the Kennel Guard. But all is in chaos in G’il Dan; there was no time for ceremonies. The Prince asked me to be his bodyguard, and I accepted. When our quest is finished, though, there will be a day of reckoning.”
“What will you choose?”
“How do I know?” Now Lady Kala paced back and forth in front of the fire. “The Kennel Guard is an easy life. In all my mother’s years the Kennel Guard has never been called to battle. Yet I know it would be a restless life for me. That just leaves an empty pursuit of leisure at court. Sometimes I wonder if there isn’t another choice.”
Win suddenly busied himself with the fire until he trusted himself to say, “Come back later, if you must, to try the way of the pack. But help me Find the Well first.”
“I know my duty. I will not abandon Prince Reynard in his hour of sickness.”
“Yes, Prince Reynard needs you.” Win brusquely changed the subject. “We’ll sleep until moonrise, then try to Find the way to the top. There are definitely people up there, so we should travel by night and sleep by day.”
“Agreed.” Staying on her side of the fire, Lady Kala walked around and around until she finally settled down, curled up, and slept.
Before sleeping, Win placed his dagger at the top of the pack, within easy reach.
He dreamed that the Wolf Amulet glowed with three ruby eyes. They stared at him until he thought three spots were burning on his chest.
He woke with a start. What had bothered his sleep? His hand was clutching the Wolf Amulet. Hazel said she had stolen it from the Wolf Clan. where did they live? Why had she stolen the amulet?
“Yi, yiiii, yiiiii!”
The coyotes were baying.
“Lady Kala!” Where was she?
She stood silhouetted on a boulder with the full moon behind her as if she were a ghost hound. At his call she bounded to his side. “Let’s go.”
The words were clipped and short. How great an effort did it cost her to resist the coyotes? It didn’t matter.
Win shrugged on the pack and released his control of the Finding. Relief flooded through him as his emotions numbed. Only the Well was important.
THE OTHER SIDE
The Finding pulled Win and Lady Kala toward the cliff face. Win feared the path would be a ledge narrower than the one he’d used to descend into the Rift. A stiff breeze was blowing. As they rounded the end of the pool, the spray from the waterfall soaked them, leaving them both shivering in the night air.
The Finding led slowly upward. The rocks were so slick with water and mosses that Win had to bend over and use his hands to keep his balance. Surefooted as usual, Lady Kala stayed at his side. Stinging droplets pelted him, trying to knock him down into the pool. Still, the Finding led higher and higher, and the rocks became slicker, more dangerous. A tumultuous roar surrounded him. Water streamed off his head and hair down over his eyes and eyelashes. He blinked and shook his head, but sheets of water replaced what he’d shaken off. He couldn’t see.
“I have to hold on to you, so you won’t get lost.”
Win tried to keep a hand on Lady Kala’s head, an odd switch from the customer’s keeping a hand on his shoulder, and to warn her of obstacles. The Finding pulled him along, eyes shut against the force of water but still knowing each step he took. Heavy water pounded his shoulders, bending him over. He staggered through curtains of dense water. Then, slowly, the buffeting lessened until suddenly it was gone, and he was freezing once more in a brisk wind.
Win opened his eyes.
Thunderous water fell at his back. They were in a low-roofed chamber filled with smooth waterworn rocks. They were behind the waterfall. The blur of water cut off virtually all the moonlight.
Win stopped and used his flint to light the torch he had prepared.
Lady Kala said, “You know where you’re going?”
Win said, “Yes. Back there, where the wind whistles. There is a path.”
“The walls close in on me. Pray it is a short path.”
The passage led roughly upward through the cliff. The rock was worn smooth by water, so it was easy travel. They’d gone only a hundred feet when Lady Kala stopped and lifted her head and sniffed.
“What?” asked Win telepathically.
Before she could answer, a whispering filled the tunnel, then grew into a hissing. Lady Kala spun around to face the opening at their back.
The sound stopped.
Win stared, trying to see past the pool of torchlight. Something hovered at the edge of the light. Win inched forward until he could just make out a strange creature. It appeared to be a short, fattish lizard, about three feet long, with short front legs but no hind legs. Brownish scales on the back gave way to an orangish flat head. Bulging cheeks were echoed by bulging eyes that did not blink.
“Careful!” Lady Kala cried. “The palace doctor has spoken of a creature like this. It’s poisonous.”
“Get behind me,” Win cried. He stabbed the torch at the thing.
It cringed and hissed. “Sssave yourssselves the trouble of climbing out of thisss hole. Come to me.” A forked tongue flicked out, exposing sharp teeth.
�
�A tatzelwurm,” Lady Kala said. “The doctor uses tiny doses of its venom to ease pain.”
The tatzelwurm’s huge eyes rotated until they focused on her.
“Ah, yesss. Ssscared of sssmall placccesss.” The orange head nodded up and down.
Lady Kala stood rigid. The wurm’s head nodded faster. Lady Kala’s head dipped down, then up.
“Dark. Ssstone above you, sstone around you. Come. I will show you the way out.”
Lady Kala took a step toward the tatzelwurm. Was she being hypnotized?
“No!” Win thrust the torch at the creature again, breaking its concentration. “Run!”
Lady Kala shook her head and looked at Win.
“Run,” Win repeated, “before he attacks.”
Hissing wildly, the tatzelwurm waddled forward with surprising speed, forcing Win backward. Lady Kala went first up the tunnel, and Win followed, keeping the torch at knee height. Progress was slow, but they did move upward.
Win asked, “What is a tatzelwurm?”
Lady Kala said. “A cave wurm. Some say a child’s dragon. He is seldom seen except in times of drought when caves dry out.”
Something in her voice made Win glance around. She met his eyes. “There is no cure for their poison. And they never tire.”
“We’ll make it,” Win insisted.
Now the tatzelwurm’s hissing turned to insults. “You’ll never make it. SSSit down and cry. You’re lossst. You’ll never make it out.”
Lady Kala was breathing hard, but not from exertion. “Tunnels and more tunnels. When will we be able to see the moon?”
“Soon, soon,” Win said in his most soothing voice.
“Never.” The tatzelwurm’s sibilant voice overruled him. Then it began ranting again.
After an hour or so Win longed for silence. Would the creature never be silent? The torch burned lower and lower. It would go out soon. Then what?
He stopped and called to Lady Kala, “I must light a new torch.”
She stopped and came back to his position.
He swung the damp pack from his back just as the tatzelwurm charged. Hastily he thrust the torch at the forked tongue and was rewarded with a hideous squawk, followed by scrambling claws as the thing retreated.
The Wayfinder Page 8
