Beyond Belief (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 4)

by C. S. Bills

  “She’s encouraging the dogs and leading Grey Wolf?” Attu asked. “And she’s talking to the others? How can she do all that at once?”

  “I’m fine,” Tishria said. She opened her eyes for a moment, smiled at him, and closed them again.

  Attu reeled at her words, but there was no more time to consider the immensity of what Tishria was doing.

  “How many sleds?” he asked Keanu.

  “Six.”

  “And Senga?”

  “He’s leading the way,” Keanu said.

  Anger flared as Attu thought of the traitor and the voice that had told him to save the man.

  Keanu closed her eyes. “I’ve got to get back to Warm Fur.” And she was gone.

  Attu pushed his mind out toward the thieves. A wall of anger and frustration hit him from the combined minds of the attackers. He pulled back, his own anger flaring even higher.

  Call our dogs back, Attu directed Tishria as he scrambled out of the snow house and started running toward the ravine. Have them bark and head back to the snow houses, as if to warn us there, as if everyone is still in them. Then guide the thieves’ dogs into the ravine. Senga knows nothing of the landslides or pit trap we’ve set.

  I won’t lead their dogs into the pit trap. They might get hurt. Attu felt the anger in Tishria’s voice. I’ll lead them far enough so they get caught in the ravine. You need to be ready to set off the landslides.

  Attu wanted to argue with Tishria, but if she felt it was wrong to lead the dogs where they would fall in the pit traps, he couldn’t ask her to do it. He ran up the hill, dropping at its brow where the others were crouched. “It’s working. Tishria is leading their dogs into the ravine.”

  “Then we’ve got them,” Suka said. He turned gleaming eyes on Attu.

  They stayed hidden behind the boulders at the top of the ravine, half the hunters with Attu on one side, the others with Tingiyok on the other side. A few of the men were set to release the landslides. Bows were strung.

  Below Attu, a dog sled materialized like a spirit out of the snow that had begun to fall. It raced toward them along the bottom of the ravine. The lead dog barked and scrambled to stop as it neared the pit trap. Either it had smelled the trap or Tishria had warned it. But the dog couldn’t stop. The driver cracked his whip, and the other dogs lurched forward. The lead dog was pushed onto the snow-covered mat of dried grass and twigs, breaking it. The dog slid into the pit, dragging several of the other dogs behind it.

  A spear throw in front of the hole, rocks and debris tumbled down. Attu’s hunters had set off the first landslide.

  A thief cried out, pointing to the now-blocked pass ahead of them.

  The first sled had stopped just two spear lengths from the edge of the pit. The driver and the two thieves sitting on it ran to the edge of the hole. One grabbed a knife and began cutting the dangling dogs free, but another one stopped him. They moved back to the sled and pushed it backward. The dogs pulled backward on their tie ropes.

  But more sleds were coming, fast. The second sled careened into the first. Thieves jumped out of the way, and the dog on the edge of the hole yelped as the sled was dragged over. The others squealed and squirmed as they dangled in the hole, trying to free themselves of their restraints.

  The man with the knife shouted at the others as the rest of the sleds ground to a stop in front of the hole. Then Attu’s men released the landslide behind them as the first sled’s rope broke and the rest of the dogs fell to the bottom of the trap.

  “Their only way out now is to climb up,” Ubantu whispered. “Isn’t that Senga?”

  The man with the knife had pulled back his hood and was looking up at the surrounding rocks, shielding his eyes from the snow and trying to see past the swirling whiteness.

  “That’s him,” Suka whispered from Attu’s other side. “He gets my first arrow.” Suka stood and shot an arrow, missing Senga by a hand’s breadth. Attu gasped as Senga ignored the shot and grabbed the man nearest him by the neck and flung him into the pit trap. Then he turned back toward where the shot had come from.

  “Wait!” Senga yelled up toward Attu. “Don’t shoot!”

  A nearby thief grabbed Senga and held him in front of himself, like a shield, a knife at Senga’s throat.

  “If you shoot at us, I’ll kill him!” the man shouted. He looked around wildly, trying to find where Attu and his men were hiding.

  Suka drew his bow again.

  “Wait,” Attu said. “Something’s wrong. Why is Senga-”

  Senga threw his head backward, hitting the man holding him in the nose. The man reeled back, the knife no longer at Senga’s throat. Senga shouted again. “Not all of us want to fight. Only the men in the last sled and this one are your enemies.”

  The thief had recovered from the blow and raised his knife to stab Senga in the back. Grey Wolf came flying out from behind the rocks near the pit and flung himself on the thief. He clamped down on the man’s wrist. The thief screamed and tried to wrench away from Grey Wolf, but the dog held on, pulling the man away from Senga. The thief stumbled, and Grey Wolf released him as the man fell into the pit on top of the other man and the dogs.

  Senga yelled something to one of the men in the back of the group. Eight thieves leaped off their sleds, yelling and cursing at Senga and the other men just like they had the Tuktu.

  “You traitor,” one of the men yelled. “How dare you-”

  But the man’s words were cut off when one of the other thieves with Senga drew back his bow and shot the man in the chest.

  “Kill them!” Senga cried, and the rest of the thieves standing with Senga launched arrows at the now seven remaining thieves.

  “Is he telling the truth?” Suka yelled at Attu. “Is he on our side?”

  Attu knew there was only one way he could tell for sure. He cringed, remembering his adamant instructions to Tishria about reading others’ thoughts against their permission, then he threw his mind at Senga, drilling into the man’s thoughts for the kernel of truth or lie that must be there.

  Attu felt Senga’s mind reel in shock. But as it did, a clear thought struck Attu.

  “You heard Senga. Shoot them,” Attu said as he pulled his mind back and released his arrow. The closest of the men fell. Senga had grabbed his head in his hands at Attu’s mental attack, but he straightened now and began shooting again.

  The next two fell to his hunters’ shots, multiple arrows piercing their bodies. Then the thieves closed in on each other and Attu was afraid to shoot again. He dropped his bow and ran down the hill.

  “What do we do?” Suka asked as they reached the bottom.

  “If someone comes after you, kill them,” Attu yelled to his hunters. “If they don’t, leave them alone. For now.”

  A thief leaped at Ubantu, and Ubantu’s spear pierced the man’s chest. Another grabbed for Senga, and one of the other thieves clubbed him with the end of his spear before slitting the man’s throat.

  Bashoo picked up the thief who came at him and dashed the man against the rocks on the side of the ravine. Another of Senga’s men stabbed him as he tried to rise.

  And then it was over. Five thieves, including Senga, stood before them, weapons at the ready but making no move to attack. Senga dropped his knife and motioned for the other thieves to drop their weapons as well. They all looked terrified, but followed Senga, dropping their weapons. Each lowered his right arm and beat three times on his chest, the Nuvik sign of greeting and respect. And then they smiled broadly, showing their teeth. “We bring no evil,” they chanted in unison.

  “Why did you make it look like you’d drowned?” Ubantu asked Senga as the men moved into the group snow house out of the increasing wind and snow. Attu had mind spoken to Rika, and the women and children were staying in the caves until he could sort out what had happened and make sure they were now safe.

  “I didn’t know if I could find the others. I didn’t know if I could convince them to take me back. I thought they’d probably
kill me. It would be better for Veshria to think I drowned here,” Senga said, “then to never know what happened to me.”

  “I didn’t want you to live in fear of when these thieves would find you and come for you,” Senga added. He glanced at where the other four thieves were sitting under the watchful eye of several hunters.

  The group grew quiet.

  “I knew you’d be prepared. I knew you would be able to control our dogs. I know you speak in your heads and See the future. I knew you’d be ready when I brought the thieves.” Senga smiled at them. “And my friends who didn’t want to fight anymore.”

  “But you could have been killed before you were able to tell us you weren’t betraying us, but them.” Suka looked dumbfounded. “That was a big chance to take. I shot at you.”

  “It was worth it to eliminate the last group of thieves. I did it for Veshria. I did it so your Clan and the Tuktu Clans won’t have to spend your lives waiting and watching for another thief attack. This was my chance to stop the killing.” Senga’s voice was sure. “It was worth the risk.”

  Attu turned to Senga. “I need to apologize for-”

  “No,” Senga interrupted. “You did what you had to do. But I’d like to know what you saw in my mind that convinced you I was telling the truth.”

  Attu hesitated. “Now?”

  Senga nodded. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “I saw you, sitting beside Veshria. She was holding a poolik in her lap. And I knew the poolik was yours.”

  “You Saw his future?” Ubantu asked. “And that convinced you?”

  Senga turned to the others. “No. He saw the dream I have for Veshria and myself. The reason I risked everything to make it happen. I’ve seen how you live. I want that for my woman and me. But I want it also for my people. And I knew it couldn’t happen when Tuktu leaders like Toonuk felt constantly threatened by thieves.”

  “And were constantly reminded of how those thieves were a result of their own inability to lead without violence,” Attu said. “So you pretended to be one of them when they decided to attack us?”

  “Oh, they knew nothing of you,” Senga grinned. “They let me back into the group because I said I could tell them where to find a rich Clan on the coast with much food and many women. I told them where you were, and I led the attack.”

  Attu stared at Senga. He felt as if his whole world were flipping over like a giant ice chunk.

  Chapter 25

  Attu’s people sat at the evening fire talking of the thieves’ send off that morning and watching the waves move on the bay in the late spring evening. The four thieves Senga had convinced not to fight had left with Tingiyok, headed by skin boat for the Nukeena. There they would plan a strategy to go to the Raven’s camp and find women of their own to start a real Clan.

  “Tingiyok said he’d try to convince some of the Nukeena to come back with him for a visit once they do what they can for the Tuktu men.”

  “I would love to see my Nukeena brothers again,” Soantek said. He put his arm around Keanu, who was holding their son.

  Suka joked about the thieves, who’d been so eager to go with Tingiyok, even though some could still barely keep their skin boats steady in the water.

  Bashoo was sitting across from them. He looked fondly at Suanu. Each held a child, Brovik in his mother’s lap, and his new little sister, born just a few days ago, snuggled in the great man’s arms. “These men are wise to go find women. Women fix everything,” he said.

  Lips popped all around.

  “But Raven women?” Rovek asked. Everyone cringed.

  “Tuktu like strong women,” Senga said. He smiled broadly. Veshria glared at him and he grinned at her.

  “Some of the Raven women may think your friends are not too ugly. We shall see.” Bashoo added.

  Everyone laughed.

  “And finally, we can live in peace in Broken Rock Bay,” Meavu said as the group quieted.

  Nuanu turned and pulled at the small fur Gantuk was holding. “No,” Gantuk said and pulled it back. Nuanu moved closer to him and Gantuk let her snuggle into his side, sharing the fur.

  Attu touched Rika’s hand, then looked to his mother and stood, needing a moment alone with her. Yural followed him to walk along the beach.

  Attu gazed at the stars. He reached for his spirit necklace. “I almost stopped believing.”

  “I know.”

  Attu turned to her in surprise, and then his shoulders slumped. “I should have known. Nothing I feel goes unnoticed by you.”

  Yural cupped her hand around Attu’s cheek. He leaned into its warmth as he’d done as a child. “But you did not,” she whispered. “Attuanin knew you would follow the spirits. You did what you believed was right, what you believed the spirits wanted you to do, and now all are safe from the threat of the thieves.”

  The stars sparkled and the waves lapped the shore. Attu drew in a breath of the spring air, full of new life. “Attuanin and the spirits of this world have guided our people since before any of us can know. Attuanin was with me across the Expanse, with the Ravens, heading north, and with the Nukeena. He guided us to this place and to this time, even with the thieves. He gave me the vision of what the future would be. When I saved Senga, I thought he might help me stop that vision from coming to pass. But instead, Senga had been sent by the spirits to make it come to pass. Attuanin guided me true. I just couldn’t see it.”

  Yural searched his eyes in the starlight. “What else is troubling you, my son?”

  “I still feel like I failed.”

  “Failed us?”

  “No. Failed Attuanin. Failed by doubting, by being angry when I thought I had either heard the spirits wrong or when I thought they’d abandoned us. I’m ashamed of that now.”

  “You have not failed, my son, but you have learned a very important lesson.” Yural stood on tiptoe to kiss Attu’s cheek. “Release your feeling of failure now. It is just pride gone sour. Let it go.”

  Attu felt the truth of his mother’s words sinking deep into his spirit. He turned to the water and felt the breeze on his face, the cool sand beneath his feet, and a rush of love toward this woman who had been as much of a leader as he or his father had ever been, and was stronger and wiser than any of them.

  “I am proud to be your son,” Attu felt tears in his eyes. He did not hold them back.

  Yural smiled at him. “You will lead us into the future here, Attu. As People of the Waters, our children will grow and thrive, and their children after them. This is where we belong.”

  “This is where we will stay.” Attu wrapped his arms around Yural. The last vestiges of the weight he’d been feeling faded away as Attu rested his chin on the top of his mother’s head. Then he picked her up and spun her once, as he’d done with Meavu as a child. “It is good to be Nuvik!” Attu exclaimed.

  Yural laughed. She wrapped an arm around Attu’s waist, and they headed back to the fire where Rika and Ubantu, Meavu and Rovek, and all their people with all the children they’d been blessed with waited for them.

  Where Gantuk and Nuanu and the little one yet to be born wait for me.

  Epilogue

  “Nuanu,” Rika called, darting to grab Nuanu, who was toddling away from the group of women working on the beach as fast as her chubby legs would carry her. “Water,” the poolik said as she saw the ocean sparkling in the sun. “Water pretty. Go water.”

  “Later,” Rika said as Nuanu tried to let go of her mother’s hand and run into the freezing ocean water. “It is fall now. The water is too cold to play in.” She kept a firm grasp on Nuanu, balancing their new daughter in her other arm. Gantuk sat in Rika’s back strap carrier.

  Attu set his boat building tools down and walked over to Rika. He held out his hand for his daughter, and she ran to him. Rika pulled the infant to herself with relief, smiling her thanks to Attu.

  “Here, let me take Gantuk, too. I’ll walk them both to the water. Once they feel how cold it has become, they won’t try to run down
to it every chance they get.”

  Rika looked doubtful.

  Attu took his children’s small hands. “I want to see and touch the water, too.” He grinned at his woman.

  “Don’t let them get drenched. The sickness spirits-”

  But Attu didn’t hear the rest of what Rika said. He’d turned away and was walking the two little ones down the beach. “Mother worries too much,” he said to the twins. “We will just walk down to the water and you can touch it. I will hold you. I will keep you safe.” Attu knew his son and daughter didn’t understand what he was saying. But he’d needed to say it. It felt good to say it, as by saying it, he was telling the spirits of his intentions, making it true. Attu said it again. “Father will keep you safe. I will always keep you safe. Both of you, your mother, and your new baby sister.”

  They reached the water and Attu held each child around the stomach so their hands were free. He swooped them down like little birds. Just their fingers brushed the cold water of the gentle waves. Both pooliks squealed.

  “More,” Gantuk said. “More water.”

  Attu skimmed them across the surface of the water again. “Not too many times more,” he said. “I’m up to my knees and my feet are starting to go numb.” But he laughed at the cries of delight and the bubbling laughter of his children as they touched the water, spraying themselves in the face and getting the front of their clothing wet.

  “We will get in trouble for that,” Attu said. He swooped them down once more.

  Rovek came running down the beach. “Tingiyok’s coming into the bay. I saw him when I walked down to the point. Some of the Nukeena are with him.”