Sky Child

by Brenner, T. M.

  When I finally find the place where we last hunted, I see mostly blood stained grass. The birds and smaller animals have already picked apart most of what was left of the deer. But there may still be something I can use here.

  I look at one of the deer skeletons, and find a bone that a wolf bit in half. It has a sharp edge to it. I take the bone and cut what is left of the deer's skin. Very carefully, but very quickly, I cut as long of a strip as I can. The piece is only as long as my arm is, but it will have to do.

  I also grab the antlers and try to pry them from the skull, but I am not strong enough. I stomp on the skull a number of times until finally the antlers break free. I put the sharp bone in a pocket on my chest, and I twist it to make sure it won't cut me. I also look around for small, loose stones. I find a few and try out my deer-skin sling.

  The sling does not work as well as the one I normally use. I can't get the stones to fly as fast or as true as I can with my own, and this one spins much faster. After a few tries, I am used to the sling.

  I look up and Mast is getting close. I use the sling to launch a rock at him. The first rock I send misses him by a great distance, but he stops coming after me. I send another rock flying at him, and this one misses as well. I can only guess that he wonders how I found a sling out here.

  Mast raises his spear and continues walking toward me. I shoot one more rock at him, and it finds its target, but he deflects it with the spear. He is able to use it almost like a shield, protecting the parts of him that would take the most damage. I send another rock flying toward him, but he blocks that one just as easily.

  I drop the sling, because I realize it will not do what I need it to. I pick up the antlers and hold one in each hand, with the branches aiming up and away from me.

  Mast starts moving faster toward me, realizing that I have no way to attack him from a distance. I bend my knees, a little more than Ebb taught me, but I want to make myself a small target.

  I yell as loud as I can, hoping to scare Mast. Startled, he slows down, but then runs even faster, yelling back at me.

  He is now very near. It seems like everything slows down, as my heart beats fiercely inside my chest. The point of the spear cuts through the air, aimed straight at my stomach. I use the antlers to deflect the attack to my side, and the spear passes by me.

  I can see Mast's face now, and he seems surprised by my weapons. The antlers won't work very well for stabbing, but they will protect me from the spear.

  I kick at Mast with my foot, while holding the point of his spear to the ground. The spear is too long and I miss. Mast pulls the spear back, and easily slides away from the antlers.

  Mast strikes again, but this time instead of moving the spear to my side with the antlers, I use them to push it upward into the air. I take a step, then another toward him, until the spear is pointing almost straight up. That is when I knee him in the groin.

  The leather protects him some, but not enough. Mast lets go of the spear and bends over in pain. I hold the spear between the antlers then toss the spear away from us.

  Mast is still folded over in pain. He sees me move in to attack again, and he puts a hand up, telling me to stop. I ignore it. I knee him in the face while he is bent over. Mast grabs his nose and falls to the ground.

  I pull the small bone knife out of my pocket. I move in close to his face, punch it again to get my point across then hold the knife to his throat. He looks at me, wondering if I will actually kill him.

  "Why shouldn't I kill you?" I ask.

  He stares at me in silence.

  "TELL ME!" I yell.

  He doesn't even blink.

  I take off his helmet and throw it on the ground. I grab him by the hair then punch his face as hard as I can. It makes him fall asleep.

  I pocket the knife and pick up the spear. I realize that if I leave him here alone, the wolves will tear him apart as he sleeps. So instead of going back to the Crag, I stand guard. Both against the wolves, and against him.

  It feels like it takes forever for Mast to wake up again. When he finally starts moving around, I tap his chest with the point of the spear.

  "Try to attack me again, and I will kill you," I say.

  Mast nods his head in understanding.

  "We are heading back to the Crag now, so get up," I say.

  Mast slowly gets up from the ground, picks up his helmet, and puts it back on his head. We walk back together. He keeps his arms at his sides. I keep the point of the spear pushed against his back.

  "Why didn't you kill me?" asks Mast.

  "Because I didn't want to kill you," I say.

  "But I tried to kill you," says Mast.

  "And you failed."

  "I still tried."

  "Did you really think you would be able to kill the Sky Child so easily?" I ask.

  "So, you are finally starting to believe that you're the Sky Child?"

  "No. I meant it as a joke. I beat you because I outsmarted you, and not because I am stronger, or faster, or a better fighter."

  Mast does not respond.

  "So why did you try to kill me?" I ask.

  "It was part of the trials," says Mast. "If it matters to you, I did not want to kill you. I was hoping that you would kill me."

  "Do you want to die?" I ask.

  "No, but you were supposed to kill me if you won. It was my duty to attack you, to try and kill you, and I have fulfilled that duty. But I hoped that you would win."

  "There is no way for me to 'win' these trials. Only in games are there winners. Trying to kill someone isn't a game. Games are meant to protect us from real war, real death. I either survive the trials, or I do not. But there is no winning. We all lose when someone tries to take a life."

  When we get to the mouth of the Crag, Helm is waiting outside for us.

  "Mast, I see that Sam has your spear. I knew I shouldn't have worried," says Helm.

  "I am done with your trials," I say.

  "There is still one more trial left," says Helm.

  "Then I give up and you win," I say.

  "Sam, you are so close to succeeding. You know we have to kill you if you do not finish the trials," says Helm.

  "You can try. I am the one with the spear. How much longer will it be before I have the point of a spear in your back?" I ask.

  "Sam, you know why we must do this, why you must go through the trials. It is to protect the hunters. We do not want to see you fail. Mast and I have both prayed to the Sky Gods that you succeed. He knew that he might die in that trial. In fact, he prayed to the Sky Gods for just that. He wanted to die, so that you might live and bring peace to the Crag," says Helm.

  I really don't know how to feel. I start to wonder who has been telling Helm and Mast what their duties are. Are they just doing what has always been done, or is someone telling them what to do here and now? Is it the old man? And who is he?

  "Fine. I will do the last trial," I say.

  I only agree because I want to know who the old man is. If I am Leader of the Hunt, they will be forced to tell me.

  "Then follow me, Sam," says Helm. "And you do not need to hold Mast captive anymore. You have succeeded in the trial, and he means you no more harm."

  I look at the end of the spear. I move the point of it away from Mast's back then drop it on the ground. He picks it up off the ground. My arms are tired and sore, and I shake them some to get them working again. I may need them soon, because I do not know what I will face next.

  20

  Helm and Mast lead me back down the carved-out tunnel they brought me through in the first trial. Something seems wrong, though. A scent. A familiar scent that I can't place. What is that smell?

  Helm opens the wooden door, and I enter the room. I realize too late that Mast has the spear against my back again. They have control. I must pass this last trial, or I am dead.

  What I see inside the room hurts my stomach. Fear-sweat drips from me, and I feel dizzy for a moment. I fight the urge to vomit. Tied up and on
the floor are Flot and Jet.

  As quickly as I grew ill, I grow angry. I can feel my skin turn red, and my fists clench. I will make them pay for putting my brothers in danger.

  "Let them go, NOW!" I yell.

  The old man comes walking out from the other room.

  "No," he says, in his evil voice.

  I feel the point of the spear dig into my back. It does not pierce the skin, but it is meant to remind me that if I fight them, they will kill us.

  "Untie them now, or I will kill you," I say.

  The old man ignores me. He raises an old crooked finger toward me, but I see that he is also pointing downward. I hadn't noticed that there is a cup sitting on a small wooden table between us.

  "Poison," says the old man.

  "What do you want me to do with it?" I ask.

  "Choose."

  "Choose what?" I ask.

  "Choose. Choose who dies."

  I look down at the cup.

  "You want me to force one of my brothers to drink this? To kill one of them?" I ask.

  "YESSSSSSSSSSS."

  My heart hurts from beating so hard inside my chest.

  I pick up the cup, and I move toward the old man. I hear Mast yell 'no', and I feel the tip of the spear press even tighter into my skin. It hurts so much that I stumble, nearly spilling the poison. I know that if I pour out the poison, I will be killed.

  I cannot kill my brothers. Flot is so innocent, and Jet is so brave. Is that what this trial is supposed to test, whether I believe decency or courage is more important? Or is this old man just sick in the head, and he's angry over losing the first trial? Is he just punishing me?

  There must be a way out of this, but I cannot see it. I look around the room, but there are no weapons. Mast may be slow of foot, but he is quick of spear. If I try to fight, I will most likely die.

  It is impossible to choose between them, to choose which brother I will murder with the poison. I look at Jet, and he is crying. I look at Flot and he is calm. He just nods to me, as if he is saying 'it's okay, I know I must die. Choose me and let Jet live.' I think Jet is crying, because he is thinking the same thing too. That I will murder Flot, and let Jet survive.

  I shake my head in disgust at the decision I must make. That is when I realize it was never really a decision for me after all. If I do what I am about to do, they will have no choice but to let Flot and Jet live.

  "I love you both," is all I say.

  I drink the poison.

  It burns going down my throat. I close my eyes, waiting for my death. Waiting for the pain to take over. I hear Mast drop his spear and move to me.

  "Sam!" he yells.

  Helm also hurries to me. They lay me on my back, trying to make me as comfortable as possible as I slip away. The dim light of the room grows dimmer. I can feel pain now, shooting through my entire body, like I've been thrown into the Great Fire. I hear Helm shouting at me, but the more he yells, the further away he sounds.

  I panic, trying to fight the poison. My arms and legs shake as Mast and Helm try to hold them down. I can feel my eyes go wide, my mind trying to capture the last moments of my life. The room goes dark, and I can't feel anything anymore. I can't move, or hear, or see. I'm alone, inside myself, and afraid. I don't want to die. Sky Gods, please help me, I don't want to die. Don't want to...

  * * *

  I scream, and it tears my throat apart.

  I can breathe again, but my whole body aches. I can still feel the poison moving through me, only not as painful as it once was. It burns, but I am glad for the pain, because it means that I'm not dead. But how am I not dead?

  Helm is close to me. I can feel his breath on my skin, and see the surprise in his face.

  "Sam, can you hear us?" asks Mast. I turn to look at him.

  "How long was I dead?" I ask.

  "You're okay now. That's all that matters," says Helm.

  I rest for a moment. My body eventually starts to feel normal again. I'm still sore from my body shaking, but the burning inside disappears. I move slowly, just to make sure that the poison is not still affecting me. I push off from the ground, stand up, and start to walk toward the old man. This time I will kill him, and Mast won't be able to stop me.

  "Not poison," says the old man.

  I stop.

  "What?" I say.

  "Never poison. You lead," says the old man, retreating to the other room.

  I don't know how to feel. I have passed the trials. But I have been tricked into thinking I was killing myself. I am glad to know that no matter what I chose, I never would have killed one of my brothers. But I would have had to live with the shame of picking one of them. Things never would have been right between us ever again.

  I am glad I am not a coward. That I was willing to sacrifice myself for them. I would do anything for them, and I have proven that to them now.

  I untie Jet while Helm unties Flot. Jet seems relieved to still be alive. I put one arm around him as he gets up, and Flot comes over to us. We all hug each other.

  After we have calmed down, I send Flot and Jet back to our room. I stay behind with Helm and Mast, so that I can talk to them about what had happened.

  "Who is the old man?" I ask. "And don't you dare leave anything out. I'm the Leader of the Hunt now, which means you both must do what I say without question."

  "We will tell you now. You have definitely earned that right," says Helm.

  "I know I've earned the right, now TELL ME!"

  "The old man is named Stern. He was the Leader of the Hunt before Hammer. He has seen more snows than anyone in the Crag," says Helm.

  "Why is he like that? Why is his voice so strange, and why doesn't he talk right? Why is he so evil?" I ask.

  "Stern was injured very badly by a wolf once. It bit deep into his neck, and made his voice sound wrong. We were surprised that he survived the attack at all, because there was a lot of blood, and his head was very warm for a long time. It made him... different. He has never been the same. Even now, it hurts his throat to talk, so he doesn't say much," says Helm.

  "What do you mean by 'it made him different'?"

  "He is not quite right anymore. He is quick to anger, and he does not like being around people. Stern is very much like an angry new one. He is still clever, and understands things, but his emotions aren't normal."

  "Has he been the one giving you orders?" I ask.

  "No. There are rules that are passed down from leader to leader. We have been doing what we were told to do if our leader ever died. We hoped it would never come to this, because Lagan was a good man. We both owed him our lives."

  "He was a good man, and I wish he was here. I would rather he lead the hunt instead of me," I say.

  "You will make a fine leader Sam, probably even better than Lagan," says Helm.

  I just shake my head at them. Why can't they understand that I don't want to do this? It doesn't matter if I'm good at it, or even the best at it. I don't want to lead. I don't want to make decisions that might cost people their lives. I don't want to control people as if they were animals. I don't want to seem special, or different, or better than anyone else. I just want to be left alone.

  "I'm going back to my room," I say.

  I think I hear them trying to talk to me as I leave, but I ignore them. I throw the wooden door back as hard as I can, making a loud crack echo down the tunnel. I hope it gets my point across.

  I walk to the Great Fire first and pray. I say a prayer of thanks for protecting me, and Jet, and Flot. I pray that people realize I am not the Sky Child. I pray that people leave me alone. And I pray that someone does something about Chaff.

  I know that the Sky Gods won't listen to my last prayer, because the Sky Gods do not honor prayers for someone to be harmed. I feel ashamed that I even thought to pray it, but Chaff is so evil that I could not help it.

  I decide instead to ask the Sky Gods to end his evil in the way they see fit. Maybe they can work a miracle in his heart, and he will b
ecome a good person. Somehow I doubt even the Sky Gods are that powerful.

  I get up off the ground that I have been kneeling on and walk back to our room. Inside are Jet and Flot, waiting for me to come back.

  "Are you okay Sam?" asks Flot.

  "How I am doesn't matter. How are both of you?" I ask.

  "Surviving," says Jet.

  "My wrists are sore, but I am okay," says Flot.

  "I want both of you to know that I would never kill either of you, even if I was forced to. You are my brothers, and I would rather die than hurt you," I say.

  "We know, Sam, and you proved that," says Flot.

  "Did you know that what was in the cup wasn't poison?" asks Jet.

  "No, I thought for sure it was poison. That is why I wanted the old man to drink it. Because he seemed evil, like the trials were his idea, and that he wanted to kill me," I say.

  "Who was he?" asks Jet.

  "A Leader of the Hunt from many, many snows before. He is not right of mind. He does not matter, for he does not rule over any of us."

  "So you are the Leader of the Hunt now?" asks Flot.

  "Yes."

  "Don't think that we will do what you say now, or that we will listen to you," says Jet.

  "No more than you normally do," I say.

  I walk to the loud waters with a bar of soap in my hand. I wash away the day, cleaning the dirt and sweat out of my clothes. I clean myself, but it doesn't clean the feelings inside me. I am glad to be alive. I am glad that I survived the trials. But I never should have gone through them at all.

  I am so tired that when I return to our room, I spend most of the day resting. The only thing I want to do is sleep.

  21

  Eventually, I get hungry. Flot and Jet have already left the room for the feast. I stretch, and yawn, and force myself to get up. I am tired, but I know that food will help me wake up.

  As soon as I reach the feast chamber, people begin to clap. It startles me. I look around, not knowing what is going on. Then I realize, everyone is clapping for me.