by P. C. Cast
“Well, I—”
Ralina cut him off. “And I have never been entrusted with a tale of this importance. Of course it is going to require special concentration.” She looked from Thaddeus to meet Death’s dark gaze. “My Lord, would you rather that I fatten up or I that I create your tale authentically?”
“Thaddeus, do not question her again,” Death said. “I give you the freedom to do what you need to do, Storyteller.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Ralina fled down the stairs, silently urging Bear to hurry before He changed His mind—again—and made her stay with Him longer, or listened to Thaddeus more than He listened to her.
She and Bear jogged to the holding pen. The Skin Stealer standing guard near the area where Ralina had built a rickety shelter and pallet barely glanced her way as she ducked under the rope barrier no other Tribesman or woman was allowed to cross. She hastily gathered her few meager items—a wooden mug, clothes she’d managed to salvage, a bowl for Bear, and a few precious piles of paper that Death had commanded be brought to her the instant He’d understood she recorded her tales on them. She rolled the items carefully in her pallet, and then left the holding pen area. Again, the guard paid no notice. Death had made it clear that she could come and go as she wished, and not one person in the camp would dare to cross Death.
Well, not one person except Ralina, Storyteller of the Tribe of the Trees.
She knew where she was going, but had ready the excuse of It was dark and I got lost trying to find my new nest. No Skin Stealer would question her. Most of them were too animalist and didn’t seem to think about much of anything except fighting, eating, and fornicating, but the Warriors and Hunters who followed Thaddeus—who had ripped living flesh from their canines and merged it with their own—were a different story. They were mean and cunning. Ralina avoided them as much as possible.
Thankfully, the excitement of the Lynx guide’s arrival had brought on a celebration that drew Skin Stealers and Thaddeus’s followers to the God’s tree, where they were drinking and dancing themselves into an orgy-like frenzy. It was simple for Ralina to slip from shadow to shadow in the darkness until she reached the tree the God had commanded be prepared for the Lynx man several days earlier.
Ralina had to steady herself before she hailed Dax from below. The nest they’d prepared for him used to belong to Cyril, Lead Elder of the Tribe, and though the tree had been damaged in the fire, and the nest blackened, it was still recognizable enough that homesickness washed over her, threatening to drown her in sadness.
“Hey, aren’t you the Tribe’s Storyteller?”
Dax’s voice startled her and Ralina whirled around, Bear hugging the side of her leg and growling low in his deep chest.
Dax backed a step, his hands held up, palms out. His big Lynx was beside him, almost invisible except for his yellow eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Mihos needed to go out before we bedded down for the night.”
Ralina recovered quickly. “My fault. I was lost in the past for a moment, but I’m back now. Yes, I am Ralina, Storyteller for the Tribe of the Trees—though that is now an extinct position.”
“Things have definitely changed.” Dax glanced around as if to see if anyone else was near.
“I need to speak with you. Privately,” Ralina said.
“Well, then, come on up.” Dax motioned to the lift that was on the far side of the tree, and they entered it, working a pulley mechanism that took them up fifty feet and into the arms of the huge old pine.
Cyril’s nest had been completely gutted—which made Ralina relieved and sad at the same time. The only thing left in it was a bucket for Dax’s overnight wastes, a pallet, and a small brazier.
Ralina wasted no time. “Have you eaten anything since you arrived in the forest?”
Dax was lighting the brazier, and he looked over his shoulder at her in surprise. “No, not yet. What I said to your leader is the truth. Mihos and I ate before we crossed into Tribe of the Trees territory. Why?”
“First, the God of Death is not my leader. He’s my jailor. Next, do not eat the meat of any animal in this forest. Too many of them have been tainted.”
“Tainted? You’re going to have to explain. And is that guy really a god?”
“Yes. I have seen enough to believe that He is truly the God of Death. He is horrible beyond imagining. He defeated our people by poisoning the animals of the forest. The Tribe ate the tainted meat and was infected with the disease of the Skin Stealers.”
Dax grimaced in disgust. “That horrible skin-sloughing disease? Great Stormshaker! Is that the stench I smell? I thought the Tribe was tanning hides—that’s why I asked for pelts as my bonus.”
“What you smell is the stench of disease and death. It’s why the God is insisting we leave the forest. It’s poisoned—probably forever.”
“People need to be warned about this,” Dax said.
“People need to be warned about a lot more than just the disease. Listen to me carefully—you must not guide Death and his people anywhere.”
Dax sighed. “I tend to agree with you, but I’ve accepted the job. If I renege on the deal my Chain will punish me, and it will be almost impossible for Mihos and me to get any other job.”
“What would your Chain say about you guiding an invading army up the Umbria? An army that can procreate and swell in size on the way as they poison everything they touch—and that means you as well. One bowl of stew and you will be infected and be faced with the same choice my people had—take The Cure and mutate into something unthinkable, or die. And as you will be our guide, I promise you Death won’t give you a choice.”
Dax looked pale. “We are forbidden to get involved in wars. My people would never agree to guide an invading army anywhere.”
Ralina felt some of the tension in her body begin to relax. “Thank you. You can’t imagine how glad I am to hear that.”
“Hold on. I need to know more.” He studied her carefully. “You don’t look ill. Did you take The Cure?”
Ralina shook her head. “No! And I will never. It’s vile. I’m only healthy because I refuse to eat meat.”
“Why is The Cure so horrible?”
“When a person is infected, part of the symptoms are pustules that form at the creases in our bodies, like at our elbows, wrists, and knees.”
Dax nodded. “Yes, I know that. Years ago I had a run-in with Skin Stealers while I was guiding a small party up the Willum River. I’ve seen what you’re talking about up close, and it isn’t pretty. But what about The Cure?”
“To cure the disease Death flays strips of flesh from the body of a living animal and packs that flesh inside the pustules.”
Dax grimaced in disgust. “And that actually works?”
“Depends on what you called ‘cured.’ It stops the progression of the disease. It also changes the person, drastically—and from all I’ve seen, not for the better.”
“Is that why the God looks like he’s the human version of a stag?”
“Yes. The God brags often about how the mighty king of the forest, a huge stag, sacrificed himself for Him. Didn’t you wonder why you saw only one Skin Stealer with the God, and why the others were kept at a distance?”
“Thaddeus explained that on the way into camp. He said that he and Death were in charge, and that the Skin Stealers were basically servants. So, it made sense that I didn’t see many Skin Stealers—except those serving the God.”
“Lies. Everything that comes out of Thaddeus’s mouth is either a lie or a manipulation. The Skin Stealers are called Reapers, and they make up the bulk of Death’s army. If you saw a group of them up close, you would never have entered camp—or at least you wouldn’t have entered it of your free will. They’re all taking on animalistic characteristics.”
Dax shuddered. “Skin Stealers have always disgusted me. I was shocked when Thaddeus said their God was now leader of the Tribe of the Trees.”
“The Tribe is no more. And it isn’t just the Skin S
tealers who have mutated. Thaddeus kept his cloak on and his face partially hooded. Had he not you would have seen an oddness about him that is the perversion of a Terrier mixed with a man.”
“Are you telling me Thaddeus took strips of flesh from his Companion and packed his own flesh with them?”
“I am. He did it, and many Hunters followed him, as well as far too many Warriors.”
Looking like he was either going to be sick or pass out, Dax slid down the side of the nest to sit hard on the woven floor. “Great Stormshaker! It is almost unbelievable.” His gaze caught Ralina’s. “I didn’t see Thaddeus’s Terrier. Did the flaying kill him?”
“I’m not sure what killed him. None of us witnessed his death. I wouldn’t be surprised if the God had a hand in it. It was Thaddeus who surrendered our people to the Skin Stealers—Thaddeus who caused Sol’s death, as well as the forest fire that made the Tribe vulnerable to invasion.”
“Sol was a wise leader.” Dax shook his head. “This is bad. Very bad.” He wiped a trembling hand across his face, and his Lynx pressed into his side, staying always within touch as he tried to comfort his Companion. “He has created an army of monsters.”
“And Death will make more!”
“That’s what He was talking about when He said I’d be surprised at how persuasive He could be. He isn’t going to persuade anyone. He’s going to infect them!”
“Yes. I don’t know how or why, but it all started with Him. People have to be warned. Get to the river people, and the mountain people, and even the Wind Riders. Warn everyone. And tell all of the Lynx guides to hide in their dens or flee—but be sure the God doesn’t capture any of your people.”
“My people would die before anyone—even a Death God—could force them to torture their Lynxes to save themselves.”
“You might be surprised. The Skin Stealer disease affects people differently, but all of them behave in a manner unlike themselves.”
“Noted. Don’t worry. I’ll go straight to my Chain and call an emergency meeting. I will tell them everything. We will take to the North Shore Mountains and to the deep, hidden dens only our Chains know of. Death won’t be able to find one Lynx team to guide His abominations.”
“I don’t think it’ll keep Him from going to the Wind Riders, but without a guide He might be delayed long enough for you to spread the warning—and for me to figure out a way to get rid of Him,” Ralina said.
“Kill Death? That doesn’t even sound possible. Stormshaker! What are we going to do? He could poison the entire world!” Panic colored Dax’s voice, causing Mihos to chirp in concern and press even closer to his Companion.
“Okay, no, listen. Panic won’t help. Death can’t die, but I’ve heard Him say over and over again that He is going to awaken the Goddess of Life like He was awakened, so that She can reign at His side. He slept once—for eons—and He can be put back to sleep.” Ralina paused, then added, meaningfully, “He made me His Storyteller.”
“You think you can get him to reveal how to make him sleep again,” Dax said.
“It’s part of His story, which means He’ll eventually reveal it to me.”
“Ralina, you must not remain here. Think of your Companion if not yourself. Come away with me now—this very moment. Our Chains revere Storytellers. You would be welcomed and respected.”
Ralina rested her hand on Bear’s broad, intelligent head. The big Shepherd gazed up at her, sending her waves of strength. He knew what they must do—even if it cost them their lives.
“Thank you, Dax. I will always remember your kindness, and I would be honored to be Storyteller for a Chain, but I cannot leave. You were right to be afraid. Death could poison this world. I have begun to believe He did it once before, when the ancients and their way of life died. It might be fated to happen again—the destruction of our world and our peoples—but if there is even a slight chance that He can be stopped, I have to try. I have to stay. And you must leave. Now.”
Dax nodded somberly and picked up his travel pack, strapping it to his back. Silently, the four of them lowered to the ground in the lift.
“Head there—through the part of our city that the fire completely destroyed. Everyone avoids it. Stay within the tree line until you get past the Channel lookout platform. My guess is Death will command Thaddeus to have his Hunters track you. They’re fast, Dax. They have the heightened senses of Terriers. You have to move, and move fast.”
Dax flexed his hand open, and the ghostly light of the moon illuminated the Lynx man’s claws. “They are not the only ones with heightened abilities—only I did not get them through disease and torture. No Terrier could catch Mihos; no Hunter will catch me.”
“May the Sun bless and keep you safe, Dax and Mihos,” Ralina said formally.
“And may our Great Stormshaker lend you strength. You will need it, Ralina.” Dax retracted his claws, and then gently, kindly, took her hands in his. “I am no Storyteller, but I give you my oath that I will tell your story—over and over. Your bravery will be known everywhere. I hope we will meet again.” Dax bent and kissed her softly on her forehead. Then he and his Lynx turned and disappeared into the fire-blackened forest.
Slowly, Ralina and Bear made their way to the nest Death had insisted she take as her own. Once inside, the Storyteller dropped to her pallet, put her arms around her Companion, and sobbed brokenly into his thick fur, crying out her fear and loneliness and despair until exhaustion claimed canine and Companion and they finally slept.
CHAPTER 17
PRESENT DAY—DAY DAM—THE PACK
The sun hadn’t climbed far in the sky when the roar of the water sounded throughout the forest. Mari and Nik stood side by side, their Companions beside them and the Pack spreading out along the bank of the tumultuous river.
“I know Antreas described this to us, but I didn’t expect it to be so big,” Mari said.
“Or so loud,” Nik said.
“It makes me feel strange—afraid and drawn to it at the same time,” said Sora.
“It’s like a monster in one of the old myths Mama used to tell me about,” Mari said. “Its name was Charybdis. It was a great, sucking whirlpool creature that devoured entire ships.”
“Seems pretty accurate,” said O’Bryan.
They’d arrived at the Day Dam ruin not long after sunrise, docked their little boats with the Saleesh, and then followed the path that ran along the bank overlooking the incredible ruin.
The river was almost unrecognizable here. Until they’d reached the area surrounding the Day Dam ruins the Umbria had been a wide waterway flanked on either side by tall banks filled with verdant forests. As they got closer and closer to the dam the land had changed—become arid, with the only sections of green being big squares of crops the Saleesh grew and irrigated by harnessing the mighty wind that blew down the gorge to pump river water over the otherwise dry land. And as they drew nearer to the last river ruins they would traverse, the Umbria became deeper and wider, lifting to meet the banks, which were green with corn and grapes, cotton, hemp, and other valuable crops. Now that they were overlooking the confluence of the Umbria and the entrance to Lost Lake the water level had risen to within just a few yards of the path that ran along the bank, and the sound of the churning river was deafening.
“Come! Come!” Father Job, the dour priest who’d met them at the final crossing, waved his arms, motioning at the Pack to follow him along the riverbank.
“Why do they always look like angry birds?” Sora asked Mari.
“Just a guess, but it could have something to do with the fact that they subjugate an entire gender of their people. You’d have to be angry to do that,” Mari said.
“Good answer,” Nik said. “Accurate, too. Think about Thaddeus.”
“I’d rather not,” Mari said, only half teasingly.
Nik grinned. “I’m just using him as an example. He wanted to subjugate everyone, and he’s probably the angriest person I’ve ever known.”
“Th
at’s an excellent point,” Sora said. She glanced around them, but the only Saleesh in view was Father Job, who was marching swiftly at the front of the Pack. “Do you think we’re ready for this?”
Antreas had jogged up with them. He’d already decided at this last crossing he would remain with the Pack instead of watching the boats. He’d explained there was really no need. The Saleesh never allowed any river travelers to watch them traverse the whirlpool, and they would shoo him away quickly.
He ruffled the top of Bast’s furry head and took Danita’s hand before responding to Sora.
“Do you mean are we ready for Lost Lake, or for what’s going to happen when we get to the Saleesh village?”
“Both!” Mari and Sora said together.
“I can’t speak for the Lost Lake part, but we’re definitely ready for the village,” Nik said. “We’ve run through it the past several nights. Don’t worry. The Pack will do well.”
“And I’d say we’re as ready as we’re going to be to cross Lost Lake,” Antreas said. “We’ve carved as many extra arrows as possible and stockpiled supplies.”
“Don’t forget our slingshots. They can be deadly,” Mari said.
“In your hands a slingshot is deadly. In mine it’s pathetic,” Sora said.
“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve got your back,” O’Bryan told her. “Well, yours and Chloe’s.” He scratched the puppy under her chin and she wiggled in the sling Sora carried her in. “She’s getting so big. She’ll be walking beside you soon.”
Sora kissed her pup on top of her curly head. “I’m not sure whether I’m excited about that or sad that she’s becoming such a big girl.” Then she shifted her attention to Antreas. “I’ll admit that I’m nervous about this lake crossing. Just thinking about being on water for fifty days has my stomach feeling queasy.”
“Like I said, there are a few islands we’ll be able to camp on,” Antreas said.
“If it doesn’t rain too much,” Danita added.
“Yes, well, there is that,” Antreas said. “But when we finally make land we will be at the foot of the Rock Mountains, and our days of water travel will be over.”
