by C. S. Bills
“The eruption,” Farnook said as they grew close enough to hear each other without shouting, “was started by the female spirits of your Clan, my Clan, and the Seer Clan. They-”
“Behind us, look!” Rovek shouted at the others, and everyone turned to see pale fires floating on the water, bright against the darkening sky.
The Ravens were coming.
A horn blew, and Yural cried out. She prayed, and the other women joined her, chanting to their name spirits for mercy. They paddled faster. As they reached the edge of the bay, the Ravens had made it to the middle. Everyone paddled even faster, trying to stay ahead of the huge canoes.
“Don’t panic!” Tingiyok called. “Keep a steady rhythm. You’ll go faster if you do.”
“Rika, look back. What do you see?”
Rika stopped paddling for a moment, turning to look.
“There are at least six canoes, moving fast and gaining on us.”
Attu and Rika paddled closer to Ubantu’s craft. “What went wrong with your plan? How are they able to follow us so soon?” Attu asked his father.
“Rovek and I had to stop when the Raven hunters came down the beach and we never got the chance to go back.” Ubantu looked grim.
“What else can we do?” Attu knew his voice sounded desperate, but he couldn’t think of any other way they could move faster as the huge canoes came closer, their carved wooden prows now clear against the horizon. “There’s nothing else we can throw out of our boats that we can survive without...”
“I don’t understand,” Ubantu said. “I thought they’d-”
Suka had maneuvered his and Farnook’s craft beside theirs, neither pausing in their paddling. “We must get through the narrows first,” he shouted, interrupting Ubantu. “It will be tricky enough with our small boats. It will be treacherous for the Raven’s giant canoes. If we can just make it through...”
Suka looked back toward the Ravens and set his mouth in a grim line, moving away from Attu’s skin boat again to allow for freer movement as they paddled. The last thing they needed to do was to collide with each other.
“What were you trying to tell me, Farnook?” Attu called to Farnook. “Something about the female spirits?”
“Yes,” Farnook shouted back. “Elder Nuanu, Vanreda, and one other, my... my mother, started the eruption. If we can get to the narrows first, we will get through, we will be safe.”
All around Attu, his people were shouting Farnook’s message. The women called loudly to the spirits of the three women gone Between, a ululation that echoed off the steep walls of the rocks beside them as they drew closer to the narrows. Attu felt his own spirit rise within him, and he paddled even harder, trying not to panic as the Raven boats drew nearer and nearer. It was almost dusk now, and the Ravens’ torches flamed. They blew their horns continuously, until the sound felt like it began inside Attu’s own head.
Just as Attu thought he would go mad with it, the noise stopped.
Attu continued to hear the echo across the water for several heartbeats, but as it faded, an eerie silence settled over their desperation. They paddled on, hands bloody through their wrapped bandages, tears streaming down faces that clenched with the pain of paddling far past when they should have collapsed with exhaustion.
“What’s happening now?” Attu asked Rika.
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong-”
A high scream pealed over the water. Attu looked back as the woman, one from Paven’s Clan, screamed again. She was in the last boat with her hunter, beside the one Tingiyok was paddling. As Attu watched, a rock the size of his head flew from a large net on a wooden pole the Ravens had somehow pulled back and released with great force. It splashed into the water, pluming the air about a spear’s throw from the back of these two last crafts. Attu shot glances over his shoulder while trying to maintain his own paddling, but he saw no more flying rocks.
“They’re waiting until they draw closer,” Ubantu shouted. “Keep paddling. Don’t panic.”
Rovek called back. “They’re gaining on us.”
And we’re gaining on the mountain.
Fire spewed, liquid fire was falling down the sides of the steep cliffs on their right and into the water below, turning the narrows ahead into a roiling mass of steam, blowing out over the water to the nearby islands on the other side.
Just like in my dream. Moving into the fire because I have no other choice.
“If we can just make it into the narrows before the Ravens get too close, they won’t be able to see us in the mist made by the fiery rocks heating the water.” Attu paddled faster.
“But then we’ll lose sight of each other,” Rika said. “We could crash into the rocks and die.”
“You’re right. When we near the narrows, we must tie our skin boats together with rope, before and behind,” Attu shouted. “Suka, I must lead.”
“But I’m the one who knows-” then Farnook interrupted him, saying something Attu could not hear. He called out again, “Attu must lead.” The other hunters relayed the message, shouting from boat to boat over the water.
I have told him I have Seen, Farnook mind spoke to him. Your Sight will lead us through.
How do you know this? he asked her. She flashed him a picture of himself, as seen from somewhere to the north of the narrows, facing south.
It is what I also needed to tell you earlier, just before Rovek spotted the Ravens. Elder Nuanu told me, showed me. You will make it through. She has fought hard against the spirits of the Ravens with Vanreda and my mother to make this eruption occur. And Attu saw the woman of Rika’s dreams standing as if within a fiery volcano, but it was her own fire, her hair of gleaming fire surrounding her. Beside her stood Elder Nuanu on her right and on her left, a woman who looked like Farnook, only older. Attu felt Farnook withdraw her mind as a wave of great sadness enveloped her.
“Did you see that?” Attu asked Rika.
“Yes.”
“Strong spirit protectors are fighting for us.”
We must make it through.
“Will the heat melt the seal fat we’ve used to waterproof our boats?” Rovek had drawn near again.
Attu saw Meavu, her eyes wide with fright, reflecting the orange light of the fiery rock sliding down beside them. Attu felt the heat on his face, and his mind recoiled at the memory of the searing heat in his dreams.
“It will be all right,” he called to Meavu. She nodded and kept paddling.
“Tie the boats now.” Attu moved to position his skin boat in front of Suka’s. Rika threw their backline to him and he leaned forward, securing it to his own frontline. A spear throw’s distance separated the crafts. Attu hoped it would be enough.
“If one of the skin boats jerks another to the side hard enough, it will flip.” Suka finished tying his boat to the back of Attu’s.
“It’s too late now to worry about that.” Attu set his jaw and faced forward, ready to paddle again the moment the boats were secured.
They looked like a string of sun fish on a line.
And the Ravens were much closer.
“We’ve lost too much time,” Tingiyok shouted from near the back of the line of boats. Attu could see a Raven hunter leaning over the front carving of their lead canoe. Then the water beside Tingiyok’s skin boat erupted. The rock had missed him by less than a spear length. Tingiyok’s boat rocked wildly, but he managed to right it by pulling his paddle deeply, shooting his craft forward, steadying it as the water wrapped around both sides evenly again.
The Ravens shouted. Another whoosh. This time, the rock hit the back of Tingiyok’s craft. It broke into pieces, and Tingiyok cried out as a piece of the frame caught him across the back of his shoulders and he fell into the water, striking his head against the frame of his boat.
“No,” Rika cried as they pulled away, leaving Tingiyok bobbing in the waves.
Attu back paddled, intending to stop.
No! Tingiyok’s voice was fuzzy in his mind, but Attu could hear it. I am old. My time ha
s come. Don’t try to rescue me.
Tingiyok stopped struggling and slipped under the water.
“No!” Suka yelled and pulled himself out of his skin boat in one smooth motion. He dove into the water as Farnook frantically paddled their rocking craft back into balance.
Moments later, he splashed to the surface with Tingiyok, now unconscious, his chin in the crook of Suka’s elbow.
“Cut his boat away,” Suka yelled back to the hunter who was at the rear of the boat tied to Tingiyok’s. Another rock flew past the last boat and landed near Suka’s. The hunter carved furiously on the rope tying his craft to Tingiyok’s and moments later, Tingiyok’s boat drifted away from the others and sank.
Suka swam to his own skin boat with Tingiyok.
Another rock flew, almost hitting Suka and Tingiyok, and the Ravens shouted in eagerness as they continued to gain on them.
Farnook had thrown a rig of some kind out the side of their craft. He couldn’t be sure what it was, but as Attu watched, he saw it stabilized the craft enough so, with Farnook’s help, Suka was able to hoist Tingiyok into the center of the skin boat, where he lay sprawled on top of their packs.
“Paddle!” Suka yelled, and Attu began paddling as his back and arms protested being thrown into action again.
The Ravens hollered. More stones flew. Attu prayed and paddled faster, ignoring his now screaming muscles.
The narrows were in front of them.
“Ignore the Ravens,” Rika shouted. “Watch ahead, Attu. See ahead. This is the moment. We must trust in what I cannot see, but what I know is true. Elder Nuanu has told us through Farnook. You will make it through. I’m trusting Attu. We’re going to make it!”
“Wet hides and wrap yourself in them. Let me paddle,” Attu shouted back to her. “Tell the others. Wrap wet hides around yourselves.”
Rika called back to the others. Attu glanced back. The Ravens should have been upon them by now. But for some reason, they were slowing down.
“Look behind you, Rika. Are the Raven’s boats riding lower in the water than before?”
Rika turned and looked, but before she could say anything, Ubantu let out a whoop of delight. “It worked. Look, Rovek, it worked! I thought I’d failed, but it just took longer than I thought it would.”
Rovek turned and whistled, as the Raven hunters, now so close they could all be seen clearly in the light from the erupting volcano, were using their hands, small jugs, and even pieces of hide to bail water out of their great canoes. They worked furiously but were sinking lower and lower into the water as Attu watched. “Keep going!” he cried. “We’ve still got the narrows ahead.”
Attu heard Yural start the shrill ululation of triumph for returning hunters who have taken much game. The sound carried over the water to where the Raven canoes, now mere floating logs in the water, rolled from side to side as the Ravens fought to hold on to them and to pull themselves back up out of the water.
“It appears all Ravens should fear the spirits of the water,” Rika remarked. “The Nuvik ones!”
The water roiled on the right, rocks rose up out of the mist from the water steaming and blowing across the narrows. Sharp rocks lined the beach on the island side.
“It’s high tide,” Suka shouted from behind them. “I knew this would be the best time to go through, but I wasn’t counting on the volcano.”
“We make it through!” Rika encouraged Attu. Attu paddled ahead, into the steamy darkness edged with fire.
Chapter 25
The narrows grew even narrower, with new rock formations from the erupting volcano sliding into the space between the cliffs and the islands. They had been in the narrows for what seemed like forever, and the way became trickier with each dip of Attu’s paddle.
“If this continues, the narrows will be blocked by dawn,” he called back to Suka.
“And we’ll be safe from the Ravens forever,” Suka exclaimed. “No boat can go around these islands.”
Attu remembered what Suka had said about the currents on the outer edges of the islands. He paddled harder, working to stay in the center of the narrows, but also as far away from the searing heat of the liquid rock as he could as it poured in red torrents down the cliff face. He couldn’t see his way through to the other side, and despair rose in him with every stroke. I’m leading these people to their deaths. Elder Nuanu, Vanreda, Farnook’s mother, help me!
Up ahead, Attu saw movement. Like small wisps of a gathering wind, hovering over the water. Do I steer for it, or away?
For, Rika mind spoke in answer. It’s a trysta spirit.
My mother’s promise. She promised the spirits of swirling wind over water would give me direction when I needed it. They are showing me the way. Now it truly is my turn, as well as Rika’s, to trust in what I cannot see, and to follow. Attu gritted his teeth and pushed his paddle deeper, steering for the twirling mist.
All through the rest of the narrows, the swirling wind led him. The water vibrated around them, just like it had in his dream. His flesh felt seared. Rika kept herself low in the back of the skin boat, and he heard her soft keening as the temperature rose.
He looked ahead. Nothing but fire before them.
No! his mind cried. No! We will all die.
No, another voice, an even deeper one, argued. Attu knew it was his spirit within him. And he listened and kept paddling, straight into the mouth of the fire... and under it.
An arch of flames now towered high over their heads as Attu paddled. He couldn’t believe they weren’t burning alive.
He kept paddling as the brightness ahead nearly blinded him. Everything inside him screamed for him to turn back, save himself from this heat, searing his skin, burning his hair, blistering his face, scorching his lungs. He could only see a few spear lengths in front of his craft, and even though it felt like he was leading everyone to their deaths, Attu kept following the swirling water as it danced in front of him, moving first to the right, then the left, and behind it the brightness of yellow light on water, edged occasionally with the red of burning rock to his right. Something deep in his spirit pulsed, driving him forward in spite of the pain, in spite of the dread bordering on panic. He saw in his mind’s eye what Farnook had shown him, what Rika had dreamed, what he knew to be true, that always, following the spirits of his people was the right path. And he paddled on.
He heard cries behind him, someone begging him to “Stop! Stop!” before it was too late. But it was already too late. Attu kept paddling as he felt the hair on his arms being scorched in the heat and his eyes so dry, all his tears used up. He squinted, opening his eyes only enough to follow the swirling over the water, and kept paddling.
And then he was through the flames and through the narrows. He was beyond them into open water with the eruption behind him.
The air felt cool. A fresh breeze blew from the north into his face and he could breathe. He kept paddling as hard as he could, pulling the boats behind him, willing them through. He turned and saw no more boats behind the one just coming through the arch.
“There’s a beach ahead,” Attu called, and pointed toward a beach he could see in the now clear air, the moonlight making a white streak of the sand before him.
“Keep paddling,” Suka called back to the others.
“We made it!” someone else yelled.
Attu pulled toward the shore, and as he reached it, he fell out of the skin boat, tipping it on its side: Rika, packs, and all. He hit the water and his garments steamed. He ran wet fingers through his hair and felt bits of his hair break away, burned off in the inferno they’d come through. He slid deeper into the cool water near the shore. Nothing had ever felt so good.
Attu awoke to find himself on the shore. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He rolled over, looking for Rika. She was standing a spear throw down the beach, holding Meavu, who was sobbing into her shoulder.
“Meavu!” Attu jumped up. He winced as his skin stretched, taut and painful. He moved down th
e beach toward his sister, but Rika motioned him away. Confused, he turned and met Rovek, also coming down the beach.
“Meavu came fully back from the Between a while ago,” Rovek explained. “She remembers being taken and being held prisoner. Rika is helping her work through the initial pain of it.” Rovek shifted from foot to foot, glancing first at Meavu and Rika, then back to Attu. “I want to help her, but Rika said not yet.”
“I’ll be able to help Meavu,” Attu assured Rovek. “I’ll work through the Rememberings with her as Paven did with me. Then the Raven spirits won’t be able to continue to attack Meavu’s mind. Until then, trust Rika. She knows what she’s doing.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to trust the healer when she’s also your sister.” But Rovek stopped shifting and stood straight. “Meavu will be my woman,” he declared, as if ready to fight Attu for the right to take Meavu as his own.
“Easy there, mighty hunter,” Attu said. “I’m not the one to ask. And I mean ASK. Our father is.”
“I know.” Rovek looked less sure of himself.
Even though he knows Meavu cares for him and wants to be his woman, and Father will say yes, still he’s nervous. It’s a big step for a hunter to take.
“It will be all right,” Attu grasped Rovek’s shoulder. Seeing his father and Yural coming toward him, Attu moved to meet them.
“Am I the last one to awaken?” he asked.
“Yes,” Yural said. She moved to wrap her arms around her son, but seeing his burns, pulled back. “Thank you, Attu.”
“For what?”
“For making us follow you through that murderous heat and safely through to the other side,” Ubantu said. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”
“Yes, you would,” Attu said. “You would have followed the spirits, just as I did.”
“What do you mean?” Ubantu asked, and Attu explained to his father and mother about Yuralria, and how the trysta spirit had guided him through the narrows.
Yural clasped her spirit necklace and cried in thanksgiving for her prayers being answered.
“The hunter from Paven’s Clan, Vonkik was his name, and his woman, Marlria? They didn’t make it through the narrows.” Ubantu said after they had stood in silence for a few moments, considering the amazing work of the spirits for them. He looked grim.
