by Jo Sandhu
But why would the earth shake? What could that mean?
The thoughts kept going around in his head. A cool breeze ruffled the leaves and brought with it the scent of dawn and approaching rain. From the trees above his head, another owl hooted softly, before winging silently away.
Tarin gave up trying to sleep and decided to make some tea.
Kaija stirred and sat up. Her eyes looked sleepy and she rubbed them. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you awake?’
Tarin shrugged. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He scooped a heated rock from the flames and added it to the water. Steam rose from the pot and circled upwards.
‘It looks like rain,’ Kaija said. The blackness of night had dissolved to grey. Clouds covered the sky, dark with unshed rain.
Tarin added a handful of mint to the hot water and breathed in the scent. He passed a cup to Kaija. She sipped it, and looked at him thoughtfully.
‘I didn’t feel brave,’ she said, ‘when the lion attacked.’
Tarin nodded. He sipped his own tea. ‘But you still saved my life . . . again. And I don’t think I thanked you.’
Kaija waved his thanks aside. ‘You would do the same for me.’
‘What? Face a cave lion with a stick?’ He smiled, hoping she’d smile back at him.
‘Tarin, I’m trying to be serious.’ Her brows drew together and she glared at him. ‘I’m trying to tell you how scared I was.’
‘I know.’ He swallowed his smile. ‘A wise man once told me that the truly brave fear, but they don’t let their fears stop them.’
‘Who said that?’
‘Worj,’ said Tarin, giving her a lopsided smile. Kaija smiled back. The haunted look in her eyes faded.
‘I think that’s true,’ Tarin continued, sipping his tea. ‘I used to think my father was so big and strong, that nothing would scare him. But I think everyone fears. Men like my father just face their fears and don’t let them overwhelm them.’
‘He sounds like you, Tarin.’ Kaija leaned forward to prod the fire.
Tarin stared at her in surprise.
‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘I’m nothing like my father.’
The rest of the camp was stirring, and after a quick breakfast of dried deer meat and berries, they set off once more. A steady drizzle dampened their spirits and turned their path to slippery mud.
Tarin pulled his hood forward, but cold water still managed to trickle down his neck. His boots were caked in mud, and his toes were wet, despite the inner lining of wool. Mist covered the mountainside and Tarin could only see a short distance in front of him. Toward mid-morning, he was sure they had strayed off course.
‘We should make camp and wait out the rain,’ Kaija said. They were sheltering under the spreading branches of a large spruce tree. It would be a good place to camp. The thick branches brushed the ground, forming a living cave, and inside was warm and dry and carpeted with a thick layer of fallen leaves.
Disappointment stabbed Tarin. Another delay.
Luuka held his hand up. He tilted his head to one side. ‘Shh, listen. Can you hear that?’
Tarin listened, then he heard it, too. Running footsteps.
He grasped his spear. ‘What territory is this? Not Boar Clan?’
‘No territory,’ Narn said, shaking his head.
The footsteps came closer. In the mist, the sound seemed to come from all directions. Tarin turned, trying to guess where the runner was.
Suddenly, a figure loomed out of the mist. A man with thick, muscular arms and broad shoulders. His wiry hair was matted with mud. His eyes glared ferociously at them from under a heavy brow ridge. He yelled as he saw them, and raised a heavy bone club.
Tarin raised his spear, and faced the man pounding toward him.
Tarin dug his feet into the mud. He pulled his arm back, ready to attack. The wolves raised their hackles and snarled.
The stranger skidded to a stop and dropped his club.
‘Brother,’ Yorav repeated, nodding and smiling. Tarin smiled back tentatively. The man didn’t seem so frightening now his club was lowered, but Tarin’s heart still pounded. Yorav’s eyes widened as he was introduced to the wolves. Rohk was still suspicious of the stranger, and bared his teeth.
‘Let him smell your hand,’ Luuka said. ‘Then he’ll know you’re a friend.’
Yorav looked worried as Luuka led the snarling wolf forward, but when Rohk sniffed his outstretched hand and licked his fingertips, the man smiled and shook his head in amazement.
‘Soft,’ he said, resting his hand on Rohk’s back. He looked at Narn in wonder.
Over a dinner of roasted beaver and wood mushrooms, Yorav and Narn exchanged news. The rain fell heavier, but under the thick cover of the spruce tree, the travellers stayed dry.
Yorav had exclaimed and marvelled at Tarin’s use of the firestones, and he studied the spear thrower closely. His gaze constantly travelled to rest on the wolves, and when he heard the story of Kaija and the cave lion, he stared at her in amazement.
‘What about you, Yorav?’ Luuka asked, settling back against a tree branch with a cup of hot tea in his hands. ‘What brings you to this part of the forest?’
‘Yorav runner.’ He spoke slowly, trying to find the right words. ‘Run to Worj’s Clan. One night, two night, Yoben Clan feel earth move. Rocks fall. Hurt Eeba, eldest one.’
‘Eeba hurt?’ Narn raised worried eyes.
‘Eeba strong. But now worry. Why earth move? Maybe cave no longer lucky. Talk Worj. Maybe join. Maybe travel downriver. Find new cave.’
Narn nodded, his face serious.
‘You felt it too?’ Tarin was surprised. He stammered and turned red as the others turned to look at him. ‘I . . . I thought I dreamed it.’
‘No dream.’ Yorav shook his head. ‘Spirit of Rock unhappy. Spirit of Wind unhappy. Fight with Spirit of Ice. Ice Bringer shake. Make rock fall.’ He nodded wisely.
Tarin chewed his fingers. He hoped Spirit of Rock wasn’t unhappy with him. He needed to climb Ice Bringer and find the cave.
‘Yorav? Do you know a place that’s called the Breath of the Mother?’
Yorav thought and scratched his head. Then he nodded. ‘Old One’s Breath,’ he said. ‘Water not ice. Water hot. Yorav know place.’
Tarin caught his breath. He leaned forward. ‘Can you tell me how to find it?’
‘Yorav no tell . . .’
Tarin’s heart sank.
‘Yorav show. When sun rise, we follow river. Reach big rock. Climb to Old One’s Breath.’
Tarin stood before the rock and turned his head this way and that. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
‘What’s so funny?’ Kaija took a drink from her flask and wiped her sweaty face.
‘Turn your head this way,’ Tarin said, showing her. ‘Now look. Does that lump remind you of anyone?’
Kaija frowned, considering the rock. Then she giggled. ‘Iva! He has a good view.’
All morning they had followed the river, scrambling over rocks and fording small streams that ran to join the larger waterway. Soft golden light glowed through the fresh growth of silver birch and maple trees. Cliffs of sheer granite towered either side of the river, forcing the travellers to climb steadily upwards. The air cooled. Shaded groves of pine and larch guarded snowdrifts and hanging icicles.
They stood now on a rocky promontory, looking out over the forest where the fast-flowing river carved a gully through a flat-bottomed valley.
‘Follow river. Reach Yoben’s Clan,’ Narn said, pointing.
Tarin nodded. It was here they had originally planned to part, but now Yorav and Narn would stay with them as far as the
Breath of the Mother, before circling back. Tarin was glad they had their company for a while longer. He turned and looked up, towards the mountains, but they were covered in mist and he couldn’t tell where the mountains ended and where the sky began.
‘First climb up,’ Yorav said. ‘Then down.’ He led the way past the rock and continued to climb.
Tarin was glad of the many small streams that trickled down the mountainside. He stopped often to drink. The climbing was hard. He felt his heart pound in his chest. Sweat trickled down his back, and the constant upward movement hurt his leg. The sturdy Esi showed no sign of slowing. Yorav and Narn were far ahead with Rohk and Nilkka. Tarin pushed himself up one more rock and paused to catch his breath.
The cover of trees thinned and suddenly they were in a clearing. Rohk and Nilkka yelped and dashed through the soft, green grass, chasing insects. Tiny yellow and white flowers were scattered amidst the green.
‘Now, we climb down,’ said Yorav. He led the way down a narrow, rocky cliff. On the left was a sheer drop to a gully far below. Tarin hugged the wall and concentrated on putting one foot after the other. Their path led them back through a dense cover of larch trees encrusted with hanging beard-moss. Tarin ducked his head and the moss trailed through his hair like fingers. He wrinkled his nose. The air was no longer crisp and fresh. He sniffed delicately, trying to place the familiar smell, but it eluded him.
Yorav pushed aside a heavy curtain of branches, and they stepped into a hidden glade, lush with ferns and moss-covered rocks. Mist rose from rocky pools. The smell triggered a memory.
‘I’ve dreamt of this place,’ Tarin murmured in wonder. He dropped his backpack on the ground and approached one of the pools. A heavy vapour hung over it. ‘The Breath of the Mother.’ He dipped his hand into the pool and pulled it away, gasping. ‘It’s hot!’
‘Not good drink. Sacred water. Good bathe,’ said Yorav.
Tarin shook his head. ‘I don’t think I’d like to bathe in hot water.’
‘Well, I would.’ Kaija dropped her pack. She unwound the lacings around her boots and pulled them off. She took off her clothes then, hesitantly, dipped her foot into the water. ‘It tickles!’
She waded deeper into the pond, then submerged herself up to her chin. ‘Oh . . .’ She sighed in pleasure. ‘You have to try this.’ She dunked her head under the water and came up smiling.
Tarin and the others joined her. The wolves contented themselves with snapping at the curls of mist rising from the water.
‘I’ve never felt anything like this,’ said Luuka. He lay on his back, floating. Tarin tried to copy him, although he found he sank more than he floated.
So, I’ve found the Breath of the Mother, he thought, watching the steam curl around him. He held his breath and let the water cover his head, blocking out all sights and sounds. Small bubbles rose around him.
What do I do now?
He returned to the surface and took a deep breath. Sounds flooded back as the water ran from his ears. He heard the soft whisper of the breeze in the trees, the excited yips of the wolves, the splash of water . . . and beneath it all, a roaring, rushing noise. The noise of falling water.
‘Is there a waterfall near here?’ Tarin asked Yorav.
Yorav spurted water from his mouth and nodded. ‘Climb big rocks. Find waterfall. Not hot. Water like ice. Follow water up, up, to cave of ice. Past ice cave, find lake. Deep lake. Inside mountain. Water always drip, drip . . . like Mother’s Tears. Yoben’s Clan say Mother’s Cave.’
Tarin’s heart leapt. He heard Old Father’s words once more: You must take the Offering to the cave they call the Mother’s Heart. It is there you will give the Offering to the Earth Mother, and she will give you a token in return.
He was so close. He clutched his pendant with a shaking hand.
‘Yorav, I have to find that cave,’ he said urgently.
Yorav nodded. ‘Follow water. Find cave.’ He rubbed his beard. Water droplets beaded on his bushy hair and sparkled in a ray of sunlight breaking through the green canopy. ‘Yorav must leave here. Go home. See clan safe.’
Tarin nodded. He would be sorry to lose their Esi guides, but he knew they each had their own journeys to make. His would lead him further up the mountain. Yorav and Narn would return to their clans. He glanced at Kaija and Luuka.
‘We’ll follow you, of course.’ Kaija read the question in his eyes.
‘It may not be safe,’ Tarin said.
Kaija pressed her lips together. ‘Life is not safe, Tarin,’ she said. ‘You of all people should know that by now.’ She climbed out of the pool and twisted the water from her hair. ‘We’re coming with you, whether you like it or not.’
They shared a final meal in the glade by the side of a steaming hot spring.
‘In Winter, all is snow,’ Yorav said. ‘But water still hot. Make big steam.’
‘How beautiful,’ Kaija murmured.
It was hard to say farewell to Narn, their last link with Worj’s Clan.
‘My love to you and Aba and all the clan.’ Kaija blinked back tears. She hugged him fiercely.
Tarin fumbled in his backpack and drew out the flint blade he had carried from Mammoth Clan. Once, it had been part of the Offering, but Tarin had used it to save Kaija’s life. The Earth Mother had been with him that night, guiding his hands and helping him to save his friend. He was sure of that. He rubbed his thumb over the sharpened edge. It was still a fine blade.
‘I want you to have this.’ He handed the blade to Narn.
Narn weighed the piece of flint in his hands. ‘Yarin no take to Mountain?’
Tarin shook his head. ‘I was always taught to honour the gifts the Earth Mother gives to us – her animals, her plants, her forests and mountains. I believe she gave me the gift of this knife the night I used it to cut the shadow from Kaija’s shoulder. Her Spirit is still here, in the flint. One day, it may be you or Aba who needs the Mother’s help. I give this to you to thank you, and so you will remember us.’
Narn’s hands closed gently over the blade and he smiled. ‘Always remember People of the Wolf.’ He dropped to one knee and ruffled Rohk’s fur. He buried his face in the soft, thickness around Nilkka’s neck and breathed deeply, imprinting their smell upon his senses. ‘Maybe Narn find baby wolf. Give to Aba.’
He rose to his feet and stood with Yorav as the others hoisted their packs and started their climb toward the waterfall.
The sound of the waterfall became louder the further they climbed. It echoed off the rocks.
‘There!’ Kaija was the first to see the cascading water. It fell from a sheer rock face into a deep, shaded pool, before tumbling down the mountainside.
‘We have to climb higher,’ Tarin said. The surge of the water was like the blood pumping through his body. Every nerve in his body tingled. ‘But I don’t see how.’ He chewed his lip and studied the rock face.
‘I think we can go this way.’ Luuka pointed to a jumble of rocks beside the waterfall.
Tarin hesitated. The rocks were steep, and slippery with green moss and water spray. But Luuka was right. They could use the rocks as giant steps to take them to the upper level of the stream. Tarin grasped hold of one of the rocks and pulled himself up.
It was difficult to find secure holds on the slick rocks, and they slipped a number of times scraping shins and knees, but slowly they made their way up the waterfall and over the lip of the cliff. Rohk and Nilkka bounded easily up the rocks and it looked to Tarin as though the wolves were laughing at them.
The way was easier now. Through breaks in the trees they could see blue sky above and towering rock faces topped with snow. They continued to follow the stream, jumping over the small rills that ran to meet it. The ground levelled out, and they emerged from the cover of the trees into a high meadow of lichen-encrusted rock and tufted grass.
‘Someone’s been this way before,’ Kaija murmured. She pointed to an arrangement of rocks, one placed on top of the other, like a small travel
ler’s cairn.
‘Yorav said it was a sacred place,’ Luuka said. ‘I’m sure special ceremonies have been held in these caves by many clans.’
Still following the stream, they crossed the meadow toward the wall of rock where the mountains continued to climb. In the valley between two mountain peaks, a river of gleaming ice was caught suspended. A stream of melt-water flowed beneath it, carving an arch in the ice. As Tarin watched, a piece of the ice broke off and flowed down the stream.
The ground was soft beneath his feet, and he sank into the springy moss. Innumerable streams and rivulets crossed the meadow, to join with the waterfall stream. Tarin found it easier to jump from rock to rock, despite the ache in his leg. A small brown hare startled him as he leapt, bounding away through the fescue. Rohk and Nilkka gave chase, but it slipped down its burrow to safety.
The cave opening took them by surprise. It was hidden from immediate view by a jutting cliff, sparsely covered by wild cherry trees and juniper. They rounded the cliff, and came to a stop, their mouths opening in surprise.
The cave was as high as ten men, and even wider. The stream they had been following pooled around the cave’s entrance in a clear, blue lake that disappeared into the cave. Late afternoon sunshine shone on the water, making it sparkle.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Kaija murmured.
‘It’s like the sky,’ Tarin said. He dropped to one knee and scooped the water in his hand. It felt cold, but in his hand he didn’t see the blue colour anymore. He let the water trickle through his fingers.
The three approached the cave’s entrance and looked in. Tarin felt Nilkka’s wet nose as she pushed against his hand. He dug his fingers into her fur and she whimpered and leaned against him, a habit she had picked up lately.
‘It’s all right, Nilkka. It’s just a cave,’ Tarin murmured.
But it wasn’t just a cave, he thought, a shiver of anticipation shooting through his body. This was where he would find the cave of ice and the underground lake that always dripped with the Mother’s Tears. This was where he would find the chamber called the Mother’s Heart and give to Her his Offering. The end of his quest was in sight. He swallowed and clasped the pendant around his throat as he took another step into the cave. The water lapped at his feet.
