by Aderyn Wood
Yuli swallowed – hard. He didn’t want to bring his brother into this at all. He wanted to keep the focus on Izhur and Iluna. “Anton did what any young man would do; he told his clan’s Soragan.”
“And this is the conversation you overheard?”
Yuli nodded. His face flushed with warmth. The spice of the tea was in his blood, and he relaxed a little.
“Go on.”
“Afterwards, I heard Izhur talk with the Sorag—, the woman, about Iluna.”
“Cypra?”
“Yes. They said that Iluna had some great power and that it should not be wasted. That she might be able to do something about this foreign group and that—”
“They agreed to train the witch secretly?”
Yuli’s eyes widened. “You knew?”
“I surmised where your story was leading.”
Yuli nodded.
“You have done the right thing in informing me, Yuli.”
Yuli allowed himself a smile.
The Grand Soragan reclined on a cushion as though making himself more comfortable. His shadows danced again, swirling and striking like an angry beast, such a contrast to his quiet voice. “The witch lies.”
Yuli’s eyes widened. “So we are not safe?”
“We are never safe, Yuli. That is why Ona has blessed her people with us, the gifted. It is the role of the Soragan to protect his people from the evils that are ever present. To be sure, a great evil will befall us next Agria.”
Yule’s breath shuddered and he bit his lip, suddenly wanting to return to the safety of his tree-dwell and his mother, as he often had as a child. But he couldn’t do that. He was a young man now. He had to control his fear. “Will we all die?”
“I am the most powerful Soragan of all Ona’s clans. My gift for foresight is unsurpassed. Yes, I have seen the evils that befall us, but I have also seen a path to our survival.”
Yuli nodded. “So we can save ourselves. We can stand up to the enemy?”
The Grand Soragan took a deep breath and studied Yuli again with his little black eyes. “How goes your training? Are you happy with it?”
Yuli frowned slightly at the sudden change of topic, but straightened his shoulders. “I am improving, Grand Soragan. Izhur is pleased with my progress. I’ve memorized all the spells and blends for healing. And my dreaming is advancing more than any other skill.”
“Yesss.” Xaroth hissed.
Yuli squirmed. There was an uncomfortable pause in their conversation in which the Grand Soragan simply watched him. The fire hissed and crackled, and the shadows whirled.
“The girl’s evil power will continue to grow if they train her. It is possible that she is the danger that will provoke our fall. I have foreseen it.” Xaroth finally spoke.
“Can’t you stop them? Order Izhur not to do it?”
Xaroth’s tongue flicked at his thin lips as he considered his next words. “We will let them continue their little scheme.”
“But—”
Xaroth held up a hand. “Have you heard the Doom-tale prophecy of Malfirena?”
He had. Ugot had told it more than once of late, in the depth of night when most had gone to their furs. “I know a little of it. Malfirena is the witch foretold to bring about our end; the end to Ona’s people.”
“Very good, Yuli. And do you believe this tale of Doom?”
“I – I don’t know. Should I?”
“No. Don’t believe any of those barbaric tales.”
Yuli frowned. “Then why are you talking about it?”
Xaroth smiled. “It could serve usss. It is a little fire that might just help our cause – with the right sort of fanning.”
“You want me to start telling the tale?”
“No, not exactly. But when it is mentioned just make a few comments, little seeds planted in the wilds of your clan member’s minds. Perhaps this witch, Malfirena, reminds you of the nature of a fellow clan member; a subtle link to your tamatu. Then, when Izhur and Cypra retrain her, your clan will start to fear her all the more.”
“Making it that much easier to burn her next Agria.” Yuli smiled. Yes, this plan could work. “But if she becomes more powerful, then isn’t there a danger she will overcome us?”
“That is why we must work together. We must defend our people when the time comes.”
Yuli pushed a hand through his long hair, wishing momentarily that he’d tied it back. “I’ll never have the power she has, Grand Soragan.”
Xaroth squinted and his eyes looked even smaller. “There is more than one path to power.”
Yuli froze. Those words evoked vivid images – the altar on a moonlit night; blood in the shape of a wolf. He turned his hand and stroked the raw scar on his palm.
There is more than one path to power.
That voice – almost a whisper.
“It was you. You came to me in my dreaming that night.”
Xaroth smiled. “Has Izhur spoken to you of your hermitage as yet?”
Yuli frowned. “Only a little. He says I am not yet ready.” In truth the idea of going off into the wilderness, seeking solitude, for one full summer and one full winter frightened him. All Soragan prentices went through with it, and usually before their twentieth summer. But he certainly didn’t feel ready.
“I think we might try to convince Izhur to let you go next winter.”
Yuli swallowed. “Next winter. But that will be the Winter of the Lake.”
“Yessss. One of our coldest. But the timing will be ripe and I know just the place for your solitude. Less than a day’s walk from the lands of the Snake.”
The meaning dawned on Yuli and his heart quickened. “So that you can train me.”
“Quite so.” The Grand Soragan clapped his hands and Sethra returned, as silent as a hunter. She now wore nothing but a strip of leather around her neck with a topaz pendant that sat nestled between her breasts. Her nakedness was more than Yuli could take. The stirring in his groin pulsed the way it did when he secretly watched the young women of his clan bathe in Mittha’s River.
Sethra eyed his stiffness and smiled, and took another step closer, as though inciting him to have a better look.
“Tell me, Yuli,” Xaroth whispered. “Can I offer you a reward for your loyalty?”
Yuli licked his lips. The spice of the tea now ran hot through his blood. The scent of almond and jasmine filled the space and his head swirled. His eyes couldn’t stay away from the woman and her lips, her breasts, her …
“I would like to discuss this further. I think we could come to a mutually pleasing agreement if you continue to be my eyes and ears here in the Wolf, until the winter, of course.”
Sethra began dancing, swaying her breasts and hips to an imagined rhthym. Yuli tried to concentrate on what the Grand Soragan was saying. Were the shadows more frenzied now?
”You see, Yuli, my gifts are many and my power is stronger than any other – including the witch. I have a number of treasures at my leisure.” He waved a hand toward the woman. “Name what you want and I will grant it – in return for your loyalty.”
Sethra stepped closer again and placed her hands on her hips. Yuli’s manhood throbbed hard. He swallowed. He wanted the woman, but there was another desire, much stronger, that came from somewhere deep within.
“I want …”
The woman went to her knees and her hand touched his thigh stroking up.
“I want – I want – to learn – I want …”
Her hand touched him there, and his explosion was quick and hot under his robe. “Power …” he groaned, lifting his desire-drenched eyes to the Soragan. “I want power.”
The Grand Soragan smiled. “Don’t we all.”
Part V
Summer of the Sky
Iluna
The mountains in the distance were vivid in the crisp morning air. Iluna’s pulse quickened the closer they got.
“We must be getting near,” Cypra said, puffing.
Iluna nodded. “Yes, those mountains.
That is where I first laid eyes on him.”
“Good. We’ll be there by noon. It is not so far, and I am looking forward to the rest. These old bones are starting to wear.”
Iluna looked at Cypra. The old woman still stood tall and proud, but her wrinkles were deeper now, and she was thinner.
The last time Iluna had walked this path it was with Aunty Agath, eight summers past. She had been a girl then. Now she was sixteen summers old and a woman. She had not grown tall – not like Jenta or Mycal – but she was full grown. And the world was new.
People treated her differently. She remained the clan’s tamatu, but they were less likely to order her around as much. In fact, people were less likely to interact with her at all.
It was that night that had caused the change – when she’d healed Zodor. Izhur told her that her extraordinary power had intimidated the clan.
But she suspected Zodor and Yuli and Anton still spread rumors about her, although, it had been a long time since she’d seen Yuli. He’d been gone since the end of last summer, to seek his hermitage. And Anton didn’t call her names anymore. He didn’t say anything to her now. But often she would catch him looking at her – across the evenfire, usually. At those times, when she would meet his gaze, he’d flinch and look away.
The air in the forest was cool – a welcome relief from the hot summer winds of the last few days. The clan had descended from the high plains the previous morning. Their march to Agria would be cooler now as they followed Mittha’s river. The forest grew tall and thick, and the scent of pine lingered in the air. Iluna breathed it in.
“Do you – feel him?” Cypra asked.
Iluna paused her step and cocked her head so that her good ear could hear the hum of the forest. Izhur had told her the story of her birth and how a bolt of lightning had struck his arm, dislodging his knife, the knife meant for her sacrifice. He believed it was the thunder so close to her young ear that had caused her deafness. He’d told her everything about the night she was born, and so many mysteries were suddenly solved. She could understand why the clan had distrusted her. Not that it had made it easier to bear.
Her arms extended forward and she felt with every inch of her being, reaching out to the forest. The trees were so old here. They had lived more summers than anyone could count. But unlike the first time she came here, now there was an abundance of life. She closed her eyes to focus. A squirrel sat still on a branch high above, watching Iluna and Cypra. A pair of wrens were busy feeding their young in a small nest in the birch right in front of them. Iluna smiled. Chicks were so demanding of their parents. She sent her essence further. A doe nibbled on berries. Iluna whipped her essence to snap a branch, urging her on. If the hunters found her, the doe would be roasting on their evenfire that night. The deer sprang away and sprinted, deeper into the forest. Behind, Iluna felt another presence – something more predatory – a human – a man.
She spun, scanning the forest.
“What is it?” Cypra whispered.
Iluna frowned. “Someone is following us.” She squinted, but their pursuer remained hidden.
“We know you are there. Please show your face,” Cypra said.
A moment of silence stalled them before the branches moved and the agile and muscled form of the young hunter came forward – Anton.
“I’m sorry, Soragan.” He bent his head in a sign of respect.
Highly respectful. Few called Cypra ‘Soragan’ now. They had in the beginning, when Cypra had first come to them two winters past. They had respected her and called her Soragan for a time. But now Cypra had no people, no status. Iluna had not heard them call her ‘tamatu’ yet, but it would’t be long now. And she knew the reason. Cypra had shared her tree-dwell once the clan moved to their summer lands. It was convenient as it allowed Cypra to continue Iluna’s training, in secret. But Iluna’s tamatu status had rubbed off on Cypra and she no longer enjoyed the respect she once had. Iluna felt bad about it. She didn’t mind being a tamatu; she’d known nothing else all her life – but not Cypra.
“No need to apologise, Anton,” Cypra said. “But what, may I ask, are you doing?”
“I was tracking a doe. She came this way not long ago. Have you seen her?” Anton glanced at Iluna briefly, his eyes lingering for a second before returning to Cypra.
The Soragan shook her head. “No, we have not seen a deer, Anton.” She squinted her eyes. “Was that all you were tracking?” A smile danced on her mouth.
Anton blushed and glimpsed at Iluna again. “I am sorry to disturb you.” He bounded off ahead of them, and in another heartbeat he was gone.
“That’s the third time he has snuck up on us since we left the plains,” Cypra said.
“There was a doe; I sensed her just now.”
Cypra raised one eyebrow. “How convenient.”
Iluna wasn’t sure what she meant by that but she had a feeling it had to do with talking more about Anton, and she didn’t want to talk about Anton or his family. “We should move back with the group.”
“Soon enough. We can sense when we are too far away, and we’re in no danger with our young hunter keeping an eye on us.”
Iluna ignored that and kept walking, trying instead to focus on the whispering trees and the essence of the forest animals, searching still.
“Did you feel him?” Cypra asked again.
Iluna sighed. She’d been reaching out since they left the high plains, trying as hard as she could to find the raven. But there was no answer – no hint of his essence.
“No, I cannot feel him.” She couldn’t help the tone of disappointment in her voice. She’d thought she would have found him straight away.
“Keep faith, Iluna. He will find you.”
Iluna hoped so. Izhur had performed the rite last summer. She’d witnessed the process, all part of her lessons. A drop of her blood was mixed with the root of Goda’s Eye – a powerful plant, and a gift from Goda herself, the goddess of night, stars and spirits. Izhur had shredded the soft root and placed it in a bubbling broth with her blood, letting it simmer for a day and a night. When he had finally drank he lasped into a trance that had lasted a full day, and had come out smiling. “Yes, the raven is your totem, Iluna. And he awaits you.”
She’d seen a few ravens on their travels to Agria. They were elusive and shy, and mostly stayed out of view of humans. She’d smiled when she spotted them knowing that she had a special connection with the dark creatures. But that raven, the one she’d seen last Agria, he was special and she wanted to find him. It was as though she needed to find another aspect of herself. She was complete when she was with him. Perhaps he held some answers for her; answers to her troubled dreams. Agria was nigh, and with it would come danger.
“Come, let us use this time for study. The group is far below, following the river. It will be safe.”
Cypra and Izhur had begun retraining her two winters ago, after the meeting of clans to decide how to deal with the attack on the Otter. They were constantly surprised by how much her power had grown and her aptitude for the lessons. She never told them that she had continued to practise on her own. Izhur and Cypra’s teachings were valuable, but, more than this, she appreciated their love and companionship.
She knew what they expected of her, and she was nervous about being some kind of saviour. She had saved Zodor’s life that winter, and it had not made her any friends. If anything, people were more wary of her now. They seemed to forget that she had saved his life. Well, except for Anton. He had thanked her for it.
“Yes, I suppose we should,” she replied to Cypra. She needed to keep up her lessons if she was to help protect them from the enemy. They were all safe for now. Iluna had seen that much in her dreams. But something was about to happen at Agria. The trouble was she couldn’t see if it was a blessing or a curse, peace or war, good or evil. If only she could find the raven; perhaps she’d get some answers.
Anton
“There’ll be almost two-score couples altogether. You
and I, and …”
Anton’s betrothed prattled on about the couple-bond ceremony that was to take place the following evening – too soon. She’d latched on to him as soon as Agria’s opening formalities had finished and demanded they go for a walk, as she had every evening since their arrival. Every now and then her big eyes would turn to look up at him, shining in the full light of the sky. They were beautiful, her eyes, and her hair, as were her small nose and rose bud lips. She had round, child-bearing hips and a soft nature; she’d make a good mother – a dream wife for any young man. He should be happy.
They walked the bank, along a river path. It was acceptable for betrothed couples to spend time together before they were bonded – encouraged even. But Anton had always avoided Hennita. Last Agria he’d made quite an art of it, although his mother had given him a lengthy talk about the importance of spending time with Hennita this Agria, lest he offend her clan. He grimaced as he guided her over a fallen log, and she continued to prattle. There was to be a large hunt tonight and he was missing it for this.
“Botha and I have sewn new robes with the lapis lazuli of our lands; we collected it last summer. She’s dyed her robe with tulu nut, but I washed mine with limestone and the salt of the sea, and now it is as white as your winter snow. I do love white, it’s so pure, don’t you think? I wonder if that’s why Soragan prentices wear it. What do you think?”
“Ah, I wouldn’t know. You could ask my brother.” Yuli had arrived at Ona’s Valley only the night before, with the Snake clan. He’d spent the summer and the previous winter at his hermitage. His mother had broken down when she’d seen him, crying the way she had when she’d mourned her father. Anton expected her to start hitting her head again, but thankfully she didn’t go that far.
Yuli had changed. He was taller, and thinner. It was almost shocking to see him. He’d always been a chubby child. He lost his pup fat by his tenth year, but Yuli had never been slender, like this. Their mother had cooked all of his favourite dishes at the evenfire that night. Anton was instructed to hunt and gather the ingredients earlier – a satchel of mushrooms, trout, rabbit, beet leaves and everything else. It took him all day, but those dishes were delicious. Everyone had commented. His mother was one of the best cooks in the Wolf, but Yuli hardly touched his food. He sipped only a little of the ox broth. And Anton wasn’t the only one who’d noticed; their mother was instantly worried about her youngest son and told him not to go back to his hermitage after Agria.
