Feathers

by Rose Mannering

  “We come from many places,” said the professor, and the squat, green animal hissed. “We have been forced here from all over the realm.”

  “We have settled and grown here,” added a woman.

  “But this is our land,” said Ode, the hairs rising on his neck. “This is our home—it was our home—and you have all but destroyed it.”

  “You attacked us!” sputtered a man. “You left us with no choice.”

  “Your mighty tribe was not enough to defeat even one of our hunting groups,” added a pale-skinned boy. “Remember that.”

  “This is our land,” Ode repeated. “This is our home.”

  The creatures began to mutter to each other.

  “We were forced to leave our lands,” Asha cut in, silencing everyone. She fixed Ode with a hard stare. “We had no choice, and now you will have no choice,” she said. “There is a war raging in the realm, and sooner or later, it would have found you. If not us then others would have discovered this place. The realm is changing and we have been here for many seasons now, growing in number. Some have even been born here and they count it as their home, too. Tell that to your chief.”

  Ode wished he could argue, but something told him she was right, and surrounded by the creatures, he did not see that he had much choice.

  “I must speak to my chief,” he said.

  He knelt before Blue Moon and the assorted audience, resting his chin on his chest in submission.

  “Don’t do that,” muttered his brother.

  “I must. You are the chief now.”

  “What are they saying?”

  “They say that the realm is at war.”

  “The realm?” echoed Blue Moon.

  “Yes. The lands they come from across the large lake—the sea. They want us to join them.”

  Blue Moon frowned; all of this was too strange for him.

  “Do we have a choice?” the new chief asked.

  “No.”

  “Then tell them that we will do what they want.”

  Blue Moon hung his head. If they were not surrounded by the creatures, Ode would have told his brother that they should not give up. Instead, he looked at the rickety tent they were standing in and the greasy, stained clothes of the men and women. He had an idea.

  “The chief says that you need us as much as we need you,” he said, turning back to Asha. “He says that he will think on your proposition.”

  The creatures laughed, and Asha raised her eyebrows.

  “You are aware that we defeated you?” scoffed some being that was half-man and half-horse.

  “And you are aware that if you do not join us then we will kill you?” added a man with fangs like a wolf.

  “Your numbers are many,” Ode replied. “You were always going to win, but this land is not your own.” He looked pointedly at the sagging roof of the tent. “There are many of you and you have outgrown your camp, but we know where you can move to. We know how to hunt and gather and live in these Wild Lands and you do not.”

  There was silence.

  “And so we will return to our people and think on your offer,” added Ode.

  Asha’s mouth twitched. “So be it,” she said. “I am sure you will make the right decision.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The New People

  The defeat was almost too much for the rest of the Taone to bear. Many seasons of triumph had made them forget failure. Women screamed for their partners and children cried for their fathers, while the elderly wailed to the sky for their sons. Such sorrow had not hit the Taone in living memory, and Blue Moon stood at the head of it all, delivering the news with his own lip quivering. Beside him Ode watched, too fearful of what lay ahead to share the grief that gripped the tribe.

  “What is to happen now?” many whispered. “Where will we go?”

  Blue Moon’s fingers curled into fists. “I was granted permission to come tell you the news,” he said. “Tomorrow we will … join our new tribe.”

  He turned away, retreating into the chief’s tent, and Ode followed as the screams of grief soared behind them.

  That night, while the Taone wailed and wept to the stars, the two brothers stayed inside their father’s tent. They sat, united in a silent, tense grief. Arrow lay stretched out between them, his fur rising and falling with each breath, and they stared through the smoke flap at the darkening sky. They became lost in memories of a father who had not always been gentle or kind, but who had been their father nonetheless. For a long time the only sound was Arrow’s gentle, rhythmic snoring.

  “What do you think Dar would have done?” asked Blue Moon suddenly.

  Ode did not want to say that his father would have been too proud to bow to another, because the time for pride was gone, and Gray Morning was dead.

  “He was a good chief,” he replied after a pause. “But you will be a better one, brother. When the sun sets, the moon rises.”

  “We could disappear across the flatlands….”

  “We have lost more than half our men and to run would be cowardly. Besides, that would be breaching our agreement—”

  “To give in would be cowardly,” Blue Moon snapped.

  “No, to give in would be to win. They need us. I told you before.”

  Blue Moon touched his father’s bedroll and bit his lip. “Dar did not listen to you, and it was his downfall,” he said. “I will not make the same mistake.”

  The brothers lapsed into silence, and they did not speak again until the early hours of the morning.

  “Where is the birther?” asked Blue Moon suddenly. “I could do with someone to read the fire for me.”

  Ode jumped at his brother’s voice. He had been thinking of Gray Morning on his piebald stallion, looking mighty and triumphant. The tent still smelled strongly of his musky scent, like the damp dust of the flatlands in the morning.

  “I don’t know where Cala is,” Ode replied. He was beginning to worry about his auntie. He had searched the crowd for her once they returned to the settlement, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had overheard one elder of the tribe grumble that the birther should have warned them of the impending defeat.

  “Can you read the flames?” asked Blue Moon.

  Ode shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you can change forms and speak to enemies in their language?”

  Ode frowned, and Arrow awoke with a grunt. The air in the tent was suddenly sharper and the haze of grief had lifted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I may not have understood what those creatures were saying, but I could tell that they were afraid of you,” said Blue Moon, the expression on his face almost suspicious.

  “No, they were warriors and beasts that—”

  “Yes, they were stronger, but you made them nervous.”

  Ode put a warning hand on Arrow’s flank. The wolf’s thick fur was bristling and his tail was lifted.

  “Are you afraid of me?” Ode asked quietly.

  “Sometimes.”

  “You said earlier that you would not make the same mistake as Dar. You said that you would listen to me.”

  Blue Moon sighed. “I do not know what I think anymore,” he said.

  At some point, the brothers fell asleep. They were awoken later by the dazzling glow of the morning sun, which fell through the smoke flap and filled the tent with golden warmth. The conversation of the night was forgiven, but not forgotten. Ode knew that his place among the Taone was precarious at a time of such sorrow and hostility. He desperately wished that Cala would return. He felt uneasy without her near.

  The lake beside the settlement was calm and unruffled as the new Taone chief stood before his tribe and announced they were ready to join the enemy. Blue Moon declared that the union would make them stronger and he promised none would suffer. The listeners did not argue because their new chief had spoken and they were weak from mourning through the night.

  “Where is th
e birther to celebrate the spirits of the dead?” asked Rippling River once Blue Moon had broken the news.

  “Yes, where is the birther?” the crowd began asking one another.

  Ode felt eyes find him in the shadows and slide across his figure with fear and resentment.

  “She has run away!” spat a male elder. “She has run away in shame because she did not help us.”

  There were angry murmurs of agreement.

  “The spirits will get their celebration when the birther returns,” called Blue Moon, silencing everyone with a stern look. “For now, we must prepare to move. There are more important matters at hand.”

  It was with heavy hearts that the Taone packed up their tents and loaded their horses with their scant possessions. Jobs that were normally reserved for the men fell to the young boys who had not followed their fathers into battle. Ode saw them buckling under the heavy loads, their eyes brimming with tears. He offered to help, but they would not accept.

  When all was packed, the tribe moved slowly toward the forest. Even the horses plodded with their heads bent low, sensing the heavy sorrow that had settled over their people. As the afternoon sun drifted across the sky, the tribe met the creatures who had been waiting for them. There were some startled gasps from the children upon seeing these beasts and beings for the first time, but many were too numb with grief to take much notice.

  However, the first glimpse of the sea prompted even the most woeful heart to lift. The setting summer sun balanced on the waving waters and streaks of lavender light burst across the sky. Though others drank in the scene while pushing on, Ode stopped to stare at it, Arrow leaning against his leg.

  There are other lands out there, he thought. There is more to see and explore. He wished that Cala were here with him now. He had so many things to ask her about her maps and the places she had been and the things she had seen. It made him excited and terrified all at once. He longed to learn from her about the rest of the realm, but more than anything, he just wanted his auntie here to tell him that everything would be all right.

  Arrow’s whine brought him back, and Ode followed the tribe as they wound their way down the cliff face. More creatures waited for them at the camp and a crowd had gathered to welcome the newcomers. Ode watched the faces of the Taone break into smiles as they saw men, women, and children among the monsters and beasts.

  The tribe was given an area in which to set up their tents and the enemy watched in interest as the Taone settled, noticing the way they stored their food and unpacked their belongings. It was not long before the children of the Taone were playing with the enemy children, no shared language needed in their games of running and catching. Ode left his tribe mixing with their new family and followed Blue Moon to the main tent. Inside, Asha and the other leaders were waiting for them.

  “I see you came to the right decision,” said Asha.

  “The chief would like to thank you for the hospitality you have shown his people,” replied Ode. “He desires to know what you expect of him.”

  Asha nodded. “We need you to tell us everything about these lands,” she replied. “We are forced to scavenge for food here, because this terrain is unfamiliar and it is making us weak. We have been here a long time, but not as long as you, and we desire to know your secrets. We need to be stronger.”

  Ode nodded and placed his hand on the crown of Arrow’s head for support. He was aware that his words were deciding the fate of the Taone. Whether they chose to acknowledge it or not, he was important for once in his life and the prospect made his fingers shake.

  “We can teach you,” replied Ode, and he saw some of the creatures in the tent flinch.

  A voice muttered, “We don’t need teaching from savages,” but Asha ignored it.

  “Once we are stronger, we will need you to help us fashion weapons and houses. We need weapons for the soldiers and houses for the children and the elderly who cannot fight.”

  “Houses?” Ode echoed, and some of the audience snickered.

  “They are dwelling places,” said Asha, waving her hand. “They are—well—they are where people live. There is no easier way to describe it.”

  “They are like your tents,” said the professor, who sat in a corner. “But they are made of wood and sometimes bricks.”

  Ode did not know what bricks were, but his brow creased. “Wood? How do you move them?” he asked.

  There was silence and the creatures all exchanged glances.

  “We will not be moving from this spot,” said Asha. “We will stay here, expanding and growing stronger until we are ready to launch an attack.”

  Ode wondered how the Taone would accept this. They had been living nomadically all their lives and it would feel strange to stay in one place forever. It would feel wrong.

  “What attack?” he asked.

  “That is when we shall need you again,” said Asha. “I told you before that we have been forced from our homes in the Western Realm by a Magical Cleansing. The people there wanted to kill us, so we ran. This has happened before, a long time ago, and we won in the end. We will win again this time.”

  “How can we help you in this battle?” asked Ode. “Most of our warriors are dead and many that are left are gravely wounded.”

  “We will have to wait before we launch our attack. It must be the right time. We will be appealing to the rest of the realm, asking anyone we can to join us….” Asha bowed her head and a wistful look came into her eyes. “We are waiting for my daughter, also,” she added. “She will gather an army in the Hillands and unite with us in the attack.”

  “She might do so,” corrected the professor softly from the corner.

  “She will do so,” said Asha.

  “Even so, in a few seasons our remaining warriors may be healed, but our boys will not be grown men,” said Ode. “They will not be initiated, and they will not be able to fight. Not most of them.”

  “Some will be strong enough,” said Asha. “And there are the women, also.”

  Ode’s mouth dropped open, and Blue Moon glared at him, wanting to know what they were discussing. When Ode translated, his brother reacted with much the same astonishment.

  “They cannot do that!” Blue Moon growled. “The tribeswomen will die! They have never fought, and some have never even held a weapon.”

  “This can all be negotiated later,” Asha interrupted, guessing what they were discussing. “We have plenty of time.”

  Ode translated, and Blue Moon crossed his arms, shook his head.

  “The chief says that we will agree to help you learn the secrets of this land,” said Ode, turning back to the audience. “But we will need to negotiate the rest.”

  “Agreed,” replied Asha. “For the time being, you must settle and become one of us. That is what you are now.”

  She smiled, and Ode was suddenly aware that she was right. The old life of the Taone was over and things would never be the same again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Traitor

  The Taone accepted their new home far quicker than Ode could have guessed they would. Though they still mourned those they had lost and longed for their old chief, they did not dwell on the past. A battle lost was a battle lost, and they were too busy adapting to their new existence to concern themselves too much with memories.

  The New People, as the Taone called the Magics, were weak and so desperate that they responded with deep gratitude if shown even the simplest tricks. When the tribeswomen taught them which weeds they could cut and stew into a broth, the New People almost cried with relief. They wanted to learn everything and they flattered their new comrades with broad, encouraging smiles. Even Blue Moon was soon won over. Ode watched his brother teaching a group of men and women how to fashion a weapon out of flint and branches. Once he had finished, the people clapped, and Blue Moon almost shone with pride.

  It was only Ode, it seemed, who could not settle. Cala was still missing and he longed for her return. It made him suspect that there
was trouble to come, or why else would she stay away? Sometimes he even found himself wondering if she really had simply run off to resist being shamed by the rest of the tribe for not predicting their defeat, like the tribespeople said. But Ode knew deep down that it was not true. His auntie would not do such a thing. Ode brooded over her disappearance as he wandered around camp each day, translating whenever he was needed. At first, he had enjoyed this role. He had relished his usefulness, but it was becoming apparent that the Taone were slowly learning the language of the New People. Soon, they would not need him once again.

  Ode felt lonely and useless, but most of all, he felt watched. As he walked around camp from day to day, he would often feel a prickling sensation on the back of his head. When he turned, he would sometimes see the professor behind him, carefully looking the other way. All his life Ode had been different, and here, surrounded by what the New People called Magic Beasts and Magic Beings, it appeared that he was still different. What exactly the professor found so interesting about him Ode did not know and he did not want to ask.

  One night, when the Taone had been with the New People for almost a whole moon cycle, Ode awoke from a disturbing dream. He sat up in the darkness and looked around the empty tent, his heart thumping in his chest. Beside him, Arrow lifted his head and licked Ode’s hand, running his rough tongue across his knuckles.

  Ode tried to make sense of what he had seen. The dream was vivid, but unclear, as if he had been trying to look at the sun. His eyes almost stung from the brightness of it, and he wiped away tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. He had seen Cala, of that he was sure, and she was beside what the New People called the sea. She was waiting for him and calling to him, sitting before a small fire, the flames flickering through the night. Then the vision had changed and he had seen a mountain—towering and dark. It was silhouetted against a purple sky surrounded by clouds, and he had been reaching toward its peak, calling out someone’s name, but he could not remember why or who.

  Ode touched the white feather strung around his neck and despite its soft bristles and light quill, it felt heavy. He dropped it, letting it flutter back to his chest where it curved against his breastbone. As quietly as he could, he began dressing. He no longer shared a tent, but sound carried easily through the buffalo hides, and Ode knew that it was important he was not followed.