Storm Crow

by T. A. Creech

  A huge, flat escarpment jutted out from the long hallway, barely high enough to make the hot air bearable while he worked. The ancestors carved it quite a few turns of the world ago, before written records existed. Some legends told of the Gods scooping out the entrances of the Fire Stars as a gift to the island peoples and a pointed reminder to keep the volcanoes satisfied with regular visits. Catli was pleased to follow that particular story. Toa was no hardship to spend time with, even though he had no language in common with the great being, beyond its fire.

  Catli laid down the traditional offerings for Toa on the very edge of the stone cliff and knelt in the center, on a little rise in the floor. There were no words to offer. Catli raised his hands out to his sides and smiled as he closed his eyes. His magic came in an instant to his call, spreading fire from his core to the palms of his hands and he spilled his power down into the stone around him.

  A quake shook the whole cavern. The heat rose by increments until Catli was pouring sweat from his temples, but he found no fear in his heart, even after all these years, as Toa reached back to him, fire meeting fire until the current glowed and circled him. If Catli opened his eyes, he would see a ribbon of magma had filled the rest of the floor, destroying the offerings, but not coming within an arm’s span of Catli himself. The first time, when he was still mostly a boy learning his power, he had squeaked like a mouse and run from the volcano.

  After that, once he realized the magma had parted for him and he hadn’t been harmed, he wasn’t afraid. Toa wouldn’t harm him. Then, as now, a razor thin tendril of the volcano’s essence wound its way through Catli’s offered magic.

  It burned in the best of ways. Power coursed to every corner of his body and mind, on edge of too much, and the unknowable Toa crooned to him. The tone of Its voice told him all he needed to know. Toa was joyous to find one who was willing to connect and share the vast well of life with It.

  Dawn slipped away to midmorning before Catli and Toa broke their connection. The God-Child was careful of Catli’s mortal constitution, keeping their communion short. Once, Catli had protested the exactness of Toa’s time limit, but never again. The volcano had shown him why on Catli’s next visit. He’d been sore, lethargic, addled for days afterward.

  Catli beamed at the tiny river of magma as it flowed back over the lip of the stone platform. “Thank you.”

  A rumble was his answer, like rocks shifting deep in the sides of the volcano. Catli took the response for what it was, gratitude, and stood. He breathed in the acrid air one last time as he brushed the dust off his shins and went on his way out of the cavern.

  While Catli was on the slopes, he planned to harvest some of the uncommon Blue Hearts that grew on the northern side of the mountain. The plant craved the heat of the magma through the stone. He hated the sickly sweet heavy scent of the flowers, but they were best to treat lung sickness. Catli had run out over the last week treating one of the villagers.

  * * * *

  Catli’s paths along the mountain side were well worn after generations of other Koah walking the same ways. The one he was on took him down and around the great bubbling crater at the top, over to the field of steaming holes in the rock on the north side.

  There was some stunted bushes and scrub grass clumped together all over the place. Blue Hearts, on the other hand, grew in neat, almost square patches close to the hot vents. One day Catli was going to ask an Earth Singer why the flowers liked it up on Toa. Plants and volcanoes generally didn’t mix well.

  The hair at the back of his neck stood on end as he rounded the sandy path. It almost felt as though the power current spiked, like Toa’s immense reservoir of energy was being used. Catli was running in the next step, magic cast out to the farthest reaches of his ability, blind to where he was going.

  Static splintered along his skin and he pulled his awareness back in, looking around the pock-marked area. Toa’s Eyes was outside his usual wandering places, though not unknown to him. He had no reason to frequent the clusters of vents, except when he was passing through to the eastern slopes.

  Now, however, he understood. Down at the bottom edge of the area, something had collapsed too close to a magma hole, the burning liquid breaking out of its natural tube. The body was curled up and covered in rough cloth. Too small to be a horse. Maybe one of the large dogs some travelers brought to hunt with?

  Catli sidled closer, inching his way between the steaming vents, steps sure on the rocky ground shifting under his bare feet. He kept one eye on the creature curled in on itself and the other on the haze drifting along the sunbeams. Any change in density was a bad sign and he would never live down the shame if he were caught in an eruption, especially a minor one.

  A couple steps from his goal gave him a better view of the being. It wasn’t a dog. Underneath all the hot ash, the short hair was blond, burnished gold almost. The rough, bland brown fabric was sturdy clothing he often saw on traders from the port, and they were of a height and size, if he had to guess. Catli squinted at the soft crest of the only visible cheekbone parting blond strands and the hint of a hard jaw. The being wasn’t familiar at all, though probably a human. Male or female was impossible to tell while they were still in a fetal position.

  The body shuddered and air whistled as it did.

  Catli darted forward, closing the scant space between them. Right on top of the human, he saw the scattered holes all over the fabric of its shirt and a few angry red-black blisters peppered across the few bits of skin he could easily see. He gave a gentle push to the upturned shoulder and the person collapsed, boneless, onto its back.

  A man’s face was revealed, more delicate than he expected from the squareness of the jaw. A face stripped raw and bloody in a constellation of stippling burns down the right side of his face. Breath whistled again through clenched teeth and a thick expression of pain. The man was not from the islands, too pale, which meant Catli had nowhere to take the stranger except with him. Leaving him on the slopes was a death sentence to anyone unused to the volcanic fumes.

  There was a pack an arm’s length away from the vent. Catli’s eyebrows rose as he reached for it. The fabric was canvas and something was stowed in it, but it wasn’t the pack of someone who expected to return home. He looped it over his shoulders. The stranger might thank him for the consideration late on.

  Catli frowned as he looked at the unconscious man. Without his kit, he couldn’t make a gurney to drag the man back to the village and it wasn’t as though he’d wake up and walk on his own if Catli prodded him. If the stranger was going to do that, the pain would’ve woken him much sooner.

  Annoyance rose in a deep huff, but he pushed it back down. The pack came off with a careless shrug of his shoulders and he swung it around, slipping his arms back through the loops so it hung from his chest. Leaving the man’s belongings was probably a bad idea. What if he wanted to come back to Toa’s Eyes and retrieve it before he was healed?

  The burns in the long sleeves of the stranger’s shirt were warning enough to be careful. Lava was notorious for its habit of burning through everything under it until it cooled or was doused. Blood served just as well as water and Catli bet that was exactly what happened here. The plain fabric was bunched and rippled over the man’s arms, which hid the evidence.

  Catli wasn’t strong enough to lift the stranger in his arms outright. Not one this big or bulky. He circled around until he stood next to the man’s knees and tugged him upright by the shoulders. A hair tie was probably a good idea, but Catli had none on him. Last time he would leave his hut without one on hand. He swept his hair over his left shoulder and knelt in the sharp black sand of the mountain.

  Wrestling the stranger over his shoulder was like manhandling a giant doll. All the limbs were loose and flopped in every natural direction. Breath wheezed and whistled in his ear as he managed to flop the man’s dead weight over his right shoulder. His collarbone was jammed in the soft muscle of the man’s stomach, but he couldn’t do anything about
it until he was on his feet.

  A low whine came as he slid his left leg through the glass-sharp sand and planted his foot. Muscles whined in harmony with the sound from the stranger as he tightened his hold on the legs against his chest and staggered upright. Catli didn’t dare lock his knees for support, afraid he’d never move if he did, though his legs wobbled the same way his grandmother’s jelly would when he shook the jars as a child.

  The body on his shoulder tensed and trembled as he tried to resettle the stranger with an odd little shrug and a hop. It didn’t work the first time, but the shudder from the man was a distraction he couldn’t afford. “Loosen up. If you’re too tense, I might drop you,” he growled.

  Catli was pleased when the ribs pressed to his neck and ear lost the hard quality of tense muscles, the rush of air becoming deeper, slower. He forced the stranger into a better position with the arm wrapped around his thighs and calves, Catli’s unsteady feet sifting down into the shimmering black dirt, until he had his shoulder nestled into the solid valley of the man’s waist.

  With the weight better balanced between front and back, Catli picked a careful way through the field at a snail’s pace. The vents were easy to avoid, heat blooming like hot flowers to brush delicate, smoky petals against his bare arms. It was the black glass obsidian he had to avoid. They were oversized caltrops in his opinion. In fact, he was almost certain they were used for that exact purpose in some parts of the world.

  The path he wanted was back the way he came and he moved in careful steps. Sweat rolled down his face, arms, down his spine until his shirt stuck to his damp skin. Even after he was out of the open field, the cluttered forest offered no reprieve. The wind was absent between the trees, humidity from the warm summer ocean a vast stagnant pool over the island. Only high on the mountain was the air fresh at all. Most of the time, Catli was used to the hot, humid days, but carrying the dead weight of this stranger was taxing now.

  He blessed the wisdom of his ancestors though. Their village, while small, was halfway up the volcano’s flank on the western side. A Koah had established their home, decreeing Toa required their people be close to the summit. Nervous squabbling meant the village was in the middle instead of at the top, which the God-Child seemed content with.

  The journey was still an almost four-hour walk from where Catli found the stranger. Frequent breaks, as his body’s protests peaked and dipped, added more time. Luck was with him, though. As he reached the farthest edge of their crops, Hoalnia called out to him from between the rows of beans.

  “Koah Catli!” Hoalnia puffed as he ran up. Catli offered an involuntary smile. It was hard not to when his friend was around. They had been close since their toddling days. His friend had grown into a big, happy farmer with a lovely, stalwart maiden to keep him on his toes.

  Hoalnia had a great life and had still managed to find time for Catli, despite how busy farming was. Many others hadn’t, especially once he became a Koah.

  The soft soil shifted under his feet with a sudden rumble. Catli almost dropped the stranger while he tried to steady them both, but Hoalnia was there, hands around his biceps to keep them all standing until the ground settled.

  “I see Toa is aware of the world today,” Hoalnia chuckled. “I wonder why.”

  Catli had no answer, though he’d figure out Toa’s reason for shaking the village the next time he went to commune with the volcano. His friend was already moving though, and the weight disappeared from his shoulder. Catli bounced up straight, light as air, then his body tried to knot now that his work was done. Work was never done, which forced him to finish his task. “Can you take him the rest of the way, Hoalnia?”

  “Your home, I’m assuming?” Hoalnia pivoted and started down the rows, long legs eating up the ground. Catli had to trot to keep up. While he had no complaints about his size at all, he had to admit there were advantages to being Hoalnia’s build. His friend carried the stranger as if he weighed little more than a thick blanket.

  “Of course.” Catli caught his breath and darted in front of Hoalnia. He pushed the leafy vines out of the way of the big man. No need to damage the plants.

  There was no other option. He doubled as a healer now, though he hadn’t the magic for it. Seasons ago, before he was born, their village healer had gone to the Umbries and was killed in an accident. Since then, no healer had come to replace her and no healers had been born. One of his duties was using the old methods to heal his people. Good thing his teacher had added the knowledge to her lessons.

  The boundary between the crops and the village was deserted. People were about their business this time of day, after lunch but before the evening meal. Catli breathed a little easier. The less the villagers knew before his stranger was on his feet and well, the better. Most on the mountain loved gossip and Catli bringing home some injured traveler off the slopes had the potential to cause problems. Nosy busybodies hanging about his home while he was trying to work guaranteed his temper would explode.

  Hoalnia turned left, toward the northern edge of the village, where Catli’s hut stood apart from the rest of the village. It was a good place for the village Koah, away from the noise so he could work in peace, though in calling distance from the rest of his people. Now, he was again aware of his good fortune, since his hut would serve double duty as a long time hospital of a sort. Most people, injured or ill, had a home within the village they returned to after treatment, where he went to follow up.

  The flimsy wooden door opened with a nudge from Catli’s fingers and he coaxed a wisp of magic out of himself. The bright speck bounced from his fingers about the edge of the dark room and passed some of itself to the cool wicks of the candles on shelves and tables. Glowing flames slowly brightened the room from the afternoon’s standard warm light to something he could work in.

  “Put him on the table, Hoalnia.” Catli pointed at the great worktable shoved against the wall closest to the door and ducked behind the partition in the back of the great room. A big, shallow bowl of clear water steamed on the wood stove he kept lit at all hours with his magic.

  Water flowed into his cupped palms as he dunked his hands in and spilled in a soothing rush over his fingers when he lifted the water to his face. Grit sluiced off with the liquid, banishing the tension he carried since he found the man now unconscious on his table. A proper soak in the communal bath had to wait, though he wanted one. For now, he was forced to wash off in the basin, removing the dirt and sweat of the mountain as best he could. It left his face, neck, and hands clean for healing, but the filth was stuck to his back and chest instead, a sticky film of grime.

  Hoalnia waited next to the table with a deep crease on his brow and shadowed eyes as he stepped back into the main room. His friend gave him a strange look, concern or fear, Catli thought. “I think maybe I should stay for a while. The thought of leaving you alone with this one seems wrong.”

  A grin slipped out before Catli could stop it. “I’m capable of protecting myself, Hoalnia. There’s no need to watch over me.”

  “I can’t help it,” Hoalnia responded, his face already losing the expression and melting into a smile. “I’ve been doing it since we were little hatchlings, all arms and legs and eyes. You expect me to stop now that you can burn the entire island down with a wave of your hand?”

  “No, and I shouldn’t ask you to.” Catli stepped into the bone-crushing hug his friend offered with his open arms. “And you would never be allowed back in the house if Saun knew you let anything happen to me.”

  “So true, Catli. So true.” Hoalnia let him go with an affectionate nudge and held out a thick leather tie as Catli moved back a step.

  Catli took the tie and twisted his hair into a bun. “Why do you feel like you should be here? We’ve had travelers come to me before and you’ve never expressed an issue with them.”

  “This one is different.” Hoalnia scowled as his eyes flickered to the man and back. “Catli, no one goes to Toa with good intentions on their own. What was
he doing up there?”

  “Well,” and Catli stopped short. What was this stranger doing up there? Years ago, another had been found on the slopes in the vent field. He had died and a good thing too. The Koah at the time found the vile magic that stranger wanted to do and it would have resulted in devastation. Toa had put an end to that when the God-Child burned the mage from the inside out.

  “He’s not dead, whoever he is,” Catli answered in the end. “If he was doing something wrong, or dangerous, Toa would have destroyed him. Instead, he comes to us injured, by his own fool ideas, I bet.”

  Hoalnia growled, though Catli knew it wasn’t directed at him, but stepped back from the table. “I trust your instincts when it comes to Toa. I would feel better if you let me stay for a while, just to ease my own mind.”

  That was fair. Catli was aware of how serious Hoalnia took the safety of his friends and family. Catli nodded and got to work.

  Chapter 3

  Once the stranger was stretched out on his table, Catli winced. The clothes weren’t salvageable, no matter how they were repaired. Blood soaked through around the burn holes in the brown fabric and glittering dirt was ground deep into the seams and folds. Maybe it was a good thing Hoalnia had decided to stay for a little while.

  “Since you’re here, I need your hands,” Catli said, eyes never leaving the man on his table. He was too big for Catli to wrestle him out of the clothes.

  A creak of the chair was followed with Hoalnia’s barefooted steps on the floor. He walked the way Catli imagined dragons walked—loudly. “You still have that rule?”

  Catli chuckled. “Of course I do. Otherwise, parents would fret themselves into hysterics when the children are in here. Best to keep them helping.”