She cursed fiercely under her breath, then turned to see who was hailing her. William, one of the unawakened, who worked as a stable hand mucking out stalls. She stopped, her hand on the horse’s reins, and looked at him. She thought of all the lies and stories she could say, none of which seemed especially convincing. Finally, she decided on the truth.
“I’m leaving the people,” she said simply. “William, I’m tired of being nothing because I cannot reckon my pastself. I have gifts, I can do things, I can learn things, but I’m not allowed.”
William glanced at her, a shrewd look in his eyes, then nodded his head once. “I heard that Michael is partnering with that Danielle.”
Jelena grinned despite the ache in her heart. She supposed everyone must know. Everyone but Michael.
“So you’re throwing yourself to the wolves, are you?” William asked. She’d never realized he had a sense of humor before. Her grin turned into a smile and she nodded.
“Care for company?” he asked, tossing his pitchfork aside.
“You’ll have to steal your own horse.”
“Can’t ride,” he said shortly. “And I hate the beasts.”
Jelena inclined her head. “Then you’re welcome to walk. But we need to be on our way.”
“A thing or two I wouldn’t care to leave behind,” William said.
Jelena sighed inwardly. A more ruthless person would tell him he was on his own. Instead, she said, “I’ll meet you at Isolde’s cabin. Hurry.”
Pulling at the bay’s reins again, she headed back toward the cabin, not encountering another soul on the way. By now, everyone would be gathering at the dining hall; soon they would hear — and celebrate — Michael’s good news. At least she wouldn’t have to do that. The thought of Michael and Danielle smiling at each other as they announced their partnership rose unhappily in her mind. She pushed it aside and brought the bay around to the back of the cabin. Then she saddled the horse. She was anxious to leave before anyone — anyone not unawakened — caught on to her plan. Not that they would stop her. Just that she didn’t want to face any of them. William had known why she was leaving but he had compassion for her; the others wouldn’t.
As she waited for him, impatience mounting, she stroked the horse’s mane to calm herself down. She didn’t particularly like the horse, but if she were going to steal it and make it her own — by all that was good, she couldn’t imagine the punishment the elders would think up for that — then she should name it. Like a protector named a newlyborn. Just as she had named the wolves: Topaz, Sapphire, Emerald, Garnet, and Diamond. She had named them after the stones the stonecutter had admired so much, but she couldn’t think what to name the horse. She looked at the bay and it looked back at her.
“Horse,” she said.
She tied her bundle of clothes to the saddle, then made sure that everything in the cabin was set to rights. The wolves, who had been napping in the back room, roused to look at her, then settled down again. She went out the front door and caught sight of two figures approaching. Her stomach clenched. She hoped telling William her plan hadn’t been a mistake. Who had he brought? Why?
The two figures hurried toward her. She could make out the packs on their shoulders even at this distance. After what seemed an interminably long time, they finally reached her. She saw William holding tight to Matilda the Night-Keeper’s hand, their faces grim and unsmiling. Well. It was terrifying to leave the protection of the trees, the circle of the people.
“One of the things you wouldn’t care to leave behind?” Jelena asked.
“They don’t allow the unawakened to partner,” William said. “Afraid our trueborns will somehow taint their tribe.” The savagery in his voice shocked her, but she said nothing. She brought them around to the back of the cabin, tied their packs to Horse’s saddle and said, “I’ve got a surprise. Don’t worry. Don’t worry, I promise.” She didn’t specify what she promised, just turned and opened the cabin door, calling to the wolves, who came tumbling out the door. Matilda and William backed away, eyes wide with fright as the animals cavorted and rolled in the grass with each other.
“They’re harmless,” Jelena said.
“They’re wolves,” Matilda said.
“They’re perfectly tame,” Jelena said cheerfully, as one of the pups playfully nipped her heel. Biting back a yelp of pain, she moved toward Horse. “We have to get out of here. I want us to head north so that we don’t have to pass near any villagers on our way.” She didn’t say on their way to where, and neither William nor Matilda asked.
The two acquiesced to her decision making and she led them through the trees that spread behind the cabin, taking the lead and guiding Horse behind her. The wolves frolicked and raced, always coming back to nudge her, then off to play tag again.
“Those animals have a lot of energy,” William commented.
Jelena rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.”
William and Matilda stayed well away from the wolves, skipping nimbly aside when they came near. Even so, after their first surprise and uneasiness, they didn’t seem unduly afraid of the animals.
“Bertha sent us some food like,” William said. “There in the pack.”
“You told Bertha?”
“She’s a good sort,” William said calmly. “She’ll not raise the alarm.”
Jelena nodded, knowing this was true. Hadn’t Bertha known about everything? You must love Jelena more, the older woman had once said. Had she perhaps imagined it coming to this one day?
They followed the path through the trees quietly for a few minutes before William spoke again, hesitantly.
“Miss,” he said, then with more confidence: “Jelena.”
“Yes?” she said, scrambling around a rock and trying to coax Horse to step over it.
“We reckon a few of the others of our sort would like to join us.”
Jelena looked up at William, as she tugged on the bridle to encourage Horse.
“We didn’t want to be selfish, see,” Matilda put in.
Horse minced over the obstacle. Jelena shook her head at the animal, then opened her mouth to respond to William, but Matilda spoke first.
“This being our chance to live the way we wanted. So … you know, we talk among ourselves. We talk about going away, see. Always have. But we’re afraid, we don’t know how to do it, we don’t know where to go. But you do.”
A lance of fear made Jelena stumble. She certainly didn’t know where she was going or how to do it. She had no plans, she’d made no preparations. She’d simply intended to take the wolves and ride the bay for a while until she saw what turned up. It might be that another tribe would take her in, or that she’d fall painfully to her death from a cliff, or that she’d live a wild hermit’s life or that she’d come slinking back home to the protection of the tribe. But no, she didn’t have a plan.
She didn’t dare admit her lack of planning to William and Matilda, though. Their trusting faces bore identical looks of satisfaction. They thought they’d made a wise choice. They believed in her. She wondered if the daughter she’d once lost had made the same mistake. It would explain things.
“So you see,” William put in, “some of them are planning to slip away when they can, and join us.”
Jelena stopped in her tracks. The bay whickered impatiently at her. How had this so quickly grown bigger than just her own desire to leave, to take a risk?
“Tanner and Geoff and Natasha, for sure,” Matilda said.
“They’re joining us?” Jelena couldn’t quite keep the crack of desperation out of her voice. She cleared her throat. If she refused to allow the others to join them, what would happen? And wouldn’t all of them — including her — be safer in a larger group? Perhaps it would be better this way.
“Where are we meeting them? And when?”
�
��After dusk. Just beyond the caves of the newlyborn, there’s a rock fall. Makes a good shelter and you can’t see it from the caves.”
Jelena repressed a smile. On their first day’s journey, they wouldn’t even travel out of Wudu-faesten territory. Well, perhaps the rock fall was far enough. If they traveled by night, they could put some distance between themselves and the village. No one would realize they were missing right away. And when they did, they couldn’t be in any hurry to come after the missing villagers. What would be the point of bringing back a handful of unawakened?
Still, it would be best to get as far away as possible, as quickly as they could. The moon would be full, which would aid their journey. They would have to be well away from the main compound before they could use their lanterns. She didn’t want anyone stumbling in the dark and breaking a leg. They would have to go slowly and carefully.
Well before dusk, they reached the rock fall that was to serve as their meeting place, not meeting another soul in the woods they made their way through. Jelena took the animals some ways away from the rock fall and pegged Horse there near a pool of water, where there was good grazing. She snared a few rabbits for the wolves so they wouldn’t hunt. She didn’t want their howling and baying to attract attention. If there were other wolves in the forest, they didn’t show themselves. No other animals did. They could probably smell and hear the wolves.
After carrying out her duties, she returned to the rockfall where Matilda and William huddled together for warmth and faith.
They needed a plan, Jelena thought, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. What had started as an impulse to escape from a future of pain and longing had grown into something far larger, a flight to a new future that affected other people. She crouched next to the others and asked, “Do you know what’s beyond the territory of the Wudu-faesten, here to the north?” She gestured with her hand.
William shook his head. Matilda stared at Jelena with wide eyes, clutching William’s hand but saying nothing. Jelena bit her lip. She knew the Sithan lands lay to the east and the Umluan to the west and the Trinitarian to the south, which was why she’d chosen to travel north, even though she didn’t know what was there. Some people might prefer the dangers they knew about, but Jelena wasn’t one of them. She thought the dangers she didn’t know might be less dangerous.
She sat thinking for a long time. Matilda and William kept a respectful silence, which she appreciated but she would rather have been able to talk with them about the dilemma. None of them had ever gone beyond the fence before. The unawakened weren’t granted that privilege. Only the riders ventured beyond; the riders and the trader and perhaps a few of the elders.
Jelena took a quick inventory. They had a little food, but not much. She had the wolves who could frighten off some threats by their mere presence, but who also needed to be fed and protected from other threats, such as the people. She had her bow and arrows, and a dagger in her boot. Matilda and William appeared to be unarmed. She abandoned the discouraging inventory. What could she do to improve their likelihood of success? And what did “success” mean? That they survived the night. That thought was discouraging, too, so she abandoned it.
She glanced up at the afternoon sun. The last time she’d come in this direction, she’d watched Rodrigo’s newbirth. She wondered if the caretaker knew anything about the tribes further to the north. Perhaps it was worth finding out what she knew? Certainly doing something was better than sitting here, waiting for dusk, and wondering when the dragons were going to get them. Michael always claimed there was no such thing as dragons, but he always had a slightly worried expression on his face when he said so.
She wasn’t going to think about Michael, either. She got to her feet and told William and Matilda that she was going to scout a bit, and that they should stay quiet in the rock fall. They nodded solemnly, like children afraid of the storm. What was she getting them into? She reminded herself that they had come of their own free choice. But still she felt responsible for them.
She picked her way across the rocks to the path that led to the cave of the saved. If she told them to go back to the tribe, they would. No one would have missed them yet — or if they had, it wouldn’t have been for long. No alarm would yet have been raised. There would be no punishment. Surely the wisest thing would be for her to send them home, where they would be safe and cared for.
But the unawakened were not allowed to partner. The unawakened swept the stables and picked up after the awakened. They had no immortal souls.
She couldn’t send them back. If they chose to go, then they could. She wouldn’t stop them. The elders would be merciful, no matter what. The elders prided themselves on being merciful.
Within a few minutes, she approached the entrance to the caves. Her steps slowed as her heart quickened. By all that’s good, she muttered to herself. What danger did she think lurked here, of all places? She walked inside. In the dim interior light, she saw that the entrance chamber was empty.
“Hello?” she said, then realizing her voice was barely a whisper, tried again, louder: “Hello?” No answer. She walked down the passageway that the caretaker had led her down the day that Rodrigo was newlyborn. Jelena had been with Michael then. She would never be with Michael again. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She had chosen, he had chosen. It was for the best. It was the Way.
She reached the steel door that led to the glass wombs, as the storyteller called them. She hesitated. She didn’t want to see all of those motionless bodies again, horrifying in their number and their stillness. She took a deep breath and readied herself, then pushed the door open.
The caretaker bent over one of the glass cubes. When she looked up and saw Jelena, a frown creased her face but she didn’t say anything, simply waited for an explanation of the intrusion.
Jelena gave her an apologetic smile. “We just realized that this is where it might be,” she said. “I’m sorry to disturb you when you’re busy.”
“No, that’s quite all right,” the caretaker said, moving away from the glass cube. Jelena could see the lines of fatigue on the other woman’s face, the pain in her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
“One of them is dying.”
A shock jolted through Jelena. She looked at the cube the caretaker had been standing over and saw that the light glowed red, instead of the yellow that bathed the other cubes. “You mean — some of the saved die before they’re newlyborn?”
“Yes, of course,” the caretaker said. She motioned toward the cube with her hand. “When the light turns red it means the body is failing.” Yellow for stasis, then green for birth. Red for death. Impersonal, mechanical. Who mourned them?
“We never perform any rituals for them,” Jelena said.
“They have to be awakened to receive the rites,” the caretaker said. “And to be awakened, they have to be newlyborn. Besides, the elders don’t like the tribe to dwell too much on the death of the saved. Reminds all the newlyborn of their mortality.”
“Does it — does it happen often?” Jelena asked. She shivered although it wasn’t the cool air in the steel-clad room that caused her reaction. The entire cave felt haunted by the souls of the not-yet newlyborn. Jelena knew she would have nightmares about that red glowing light for the rest of her life.
The caretaker shrugged and looked around at the rows of cubes stretching endlessly into the darkness. How long would it take for her to fulfill her duty, to see each of the saved either newlyborn or dead?
Jelena pressed her shaking hands together. The task should contain joy but she doubted very much that the caretaker’s joy outweighed her sorrow.
“More die these days,” the caretaker finally said. “I think whatever the makers did to create this, it doesn’t work the way it should. Not anymore. We can’t blame them, they had no way of knowing … ”
“Knowin
g what?” Jelena asked.
“That it would be like this. I think — and this is just what I believe from all these years of looking after the saved — I think the makers meant for all of us to be newlyborn together. Not spread apart like this for years and years. Then, you see, we would have had all that we needed. The teacher to remind us to read and write, the warrior to keep us safe, the explorer to show us where the other caves are.”
“The other caves?” Jelena said.
“Of course, of course,” the caretaker said a bit impatiently. “Don’t you know your history? The seventy tribes of Irminsul? Doesn’t that imply seventy caves? One to each tribe? Where are all the missing tribes?”
“Yes, I see,” Jelena said.
“Plus wherever they stored what we would need.”
“What we would need?”
The caretaker nodded vigorously. “There must have been some sort of records. There must have been instructions. What to do when we were newlyborn. What to expect. Medicines for the physician to administer. Seeds for us to plant. They can’t have meant for it to be like this, can they?”
The caretaker was right. The makers wouldn’t have just flung them into their cold glass wombs, no matter how much of a hurry they might have been in. Of course there were instructions, there were seeds, there were tools, and everything you might need to build a world. A world such as the makers envisioned.
But perhaps, Jelena thought, perhaps it was just as well that the makers had miscalculated and the first born were forced to make a different world, one the makers could not have intended. Perhaps that was the Way.
The heresy made her dizzy. Jelena steadied herself. The caretaker moved to another glass womb and stood shaking her head. “I’m sorry, child,” she said softly. “That’s not what you came here for. But I have so little chance to talk … to rage. I used to go up to the hall at night but I stopped … oh, many years ago. Because I knew the world we were making was wrong, it was not what the makers intended. It tears my heart, you see, that we have created a world the makers would not have wanted for us.”
Children of the Wolves Page 15
