by A. R. Cook
“Does he know his way through the Curtain by himself?” David asked.
Yofune leaned over and nudged the snoring badger. Tanuki snorted awake, blinking his eyes. “Is it time for supper already?” he asked with a yawn.
The blind man chuckled softly. “Tanuki my friend, I need you to guide David-san and the hunter on a quest to help the sphinx. You must take them through the Curtain to the America in the North.”
“Oh, okay. Right after I have my pre-dinner sake.” Tanuki stretched, and scratched his right ear. It took him a moment to comprehend what Yofune had requested, and when he did, his fur bristled on end. “Wait, I have to take them where? By myself? Oh, no no no, Master. I’ve never gone through the Curtain without you, and I’ve never been to that land. I’ll get terribly lost—”
“You’ll be fine. You have been my eyes for a long time, and your sense of smell is as acute as mine. Trust the folds of the Curtain to guide you in the right direction.”
The badger darted his eyes back and forth. “Is this going to be dangerous? I’ve had enough danger for one day. And if it’s got anything to do with that crazy goddess you were talking about, forget it.”
Yofune frowned, but spoke with patience. “It is a searching quest. David and the hunter need to find a special stone. They know who they need to ask for it. They just need you to help them get to where they need to go.”
“But … but … the red-headed man …” Tanuki lowered his voice, even though Gullin could not translate his Japanese. “He scares me. And he smells funny.”
“Then just focus on David-san. He doesn’t scare you, and he doesn’t smell.”
Tanuki huffed in defeat. He knew better than to argue with his master. He stood up, cracking his back with a final stretch. “All right. But I’m taking them there, and that’s all. I’m not getting involved with any more hazards to my health. And I’m not responsible for what happens to them.”
David patted Tanuki’s head. “Thank you, Tanuki.”
The badger looked up at him, twitching his whiskers. “You’re welcome. After all, what would you do without the most divine creature in Japan?”
“You’ve moved up from the most divine in Kyoto to all of Japan?”
Tanuki stuck out his chest in pride. “Now that I’m going over to America to share my splendor, I may be the most divine creature in the world!”
“Would you two shut your jabbering gobs already?” Gullin snapped. “If you’re done blabbering, we’ve got us a Singing Stone to find.”
Chapter Twelve
Tanuki had chosen the form of an elk so he could run swiftly, while David and Gullin rode on his back. America, however, proved to be trickier to find than one might think. Tanuki bounded through the smoky fog between the supernatural realm and the human-ruled world for what seemed like hours. Eventually they crossed over into a dusty, dry land with tall trees bearing feathery fronds at the tops—they reminded David of feather dusters. There was a watering hole, where an extraordinarily huge animal was bathing. It had gray wrinkled skin, large tree-trunk legs, and it sprayed water on its back with its long hose of a nose.
“See? I told you I’d get you here. That must be a bison right there,” Tanuki said.
David shook his head. “I’ve seen pictures of that animal before. It’s not a bison. It’s an elephant. They live in Africa and India.”
Tanuki tilted his head. “You told me you needed to go to the place where Indians live. Wouldn’t Indians live in India?”
“Yes … I mean, no … the Indians we want to find are different. Not India Indians, American Indians.”
The shape-shifter sighed in exasperation. “You need to tell me these things! I’m divine, but not psychic.”
Back through the Curtain, Tanuki continued his search. He tried to pick up hints and scents from the pockets of the misty veil around him. Their trek evolved into a site-seeing tour, as they briefly caught glimpses of Austria (“It sounds like America,” Tanuki retorted), Australia (“It sounds like Austria … wait, which country are we looking for?”), Morocco (“What? It smelled yummy!”), and Brazil (“What do you mean, SOUTH America? There are two?”).
Finally, as Tanuki was about to call it quits and go home to Japan, the group fell out of the Curtain and landed with a heavy thump on soft ground. David landed square on his back, and was knocked breathless. When he opened his eyes, he was staring up at a blue sky, bordered by long swaying strands of meadow grass. Somewhere not far off, he heard the sound of a rushing river.
A large black snout hovered over his face, sniffing his hair.
David’s eyes bulged, and he cautiously scooted away so he could sit up. Once he did, he became mesmerized by the complacent face of the animal, a bison. The bison regarded him calmly, and lowered its massive muzzle to the ground to munch on the prairie grass.
Gullin was already standing up and marveling at the bison. He ventured to place a hand on its shoulder, petting the furry hide. “You’re a big girl. But you’re a gentle giant, aren’t you? Wonder if the locals around here tame these beasts.”
David stood up, rubbing the back of his aching legs. He glanced around at the wide expanse of terrain. They were in a pasture embellished with hills that popped up like half-formed bubbles on the surface of water. The grass was tall enough to reach their knees, and it was dotted with wildflowers. “Speaking of locals, there doesn’t seem to be a town around here. Maybe we should scout around. Too bad we can’t ask the bison for directions.”
Tanuki shifted back into badger shape. “Allow me. We animals share common languages.” He approached the bison, and spoke in a chattering language. The bison kept chewing the grass, seemingly ignoring the badger.
“Hmm, obviously this cow is behind the times,” Tanuki sighed. “Maybe I should try something more primitive.” He tried again, in a more guttural tongue. He spoke in a series of different tones, to which the bison stared at him with its blank black eyes.
Gullin sat down on a rock a few paces off, and cracked his neck. “We might as well get comfortable. I bet the gopher’s going to take a while to get anything out of that one.”
David sat down on the ground, pondering whether he should go off and look around. Tanuki, meanwhile, grew increasingly frustrated with the bison, but out of sheer determination kept trying to find a common dialect. Fifteen minutes later, Tanuki returned to his companions. “That cow talks really funny, but I think I figured out what she was saying. She didn’t say we were in America. She says her family has always called this place the Land where the Herd Will Live Forever. I think that’s what she said. It was more like, ‘Laaaaaaaaaaaand wheeeeeeeere the Heeeeeeeeeeeeeerd Wiiiiiill Liiiiiiiiiiiiive Foooooooooooreeeeeeeeeeeeveeeeeeeeeeeeer.”
“The herd? There are more bison nearby?” David asked, growing excited. “Tanuki, can you go ask the bison if she or any of the herd knows about an earth spirit, or the Singing Stones?”
Tanuki snorted, his ears twitching. “What would you do without me, David-san?” He waddled back over to the bison, who continued munching her leafy lunch.
Gullin rested his elbows on his knees, musing over the bison. “That old girl reminds me of the sheep we used to herd back home. Not quite as big as this Bessie, of course.” He cast his gaze over at David. “Why are you doing all of this, David?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jumping halfway around the world, looking for a spirit that could very well doom you to the netherworld as anything, searching for a stone that may or may not be the answer to this vision you were told about. That’s an awful lot of trouble to go through, and you’re not even sure if you’re right.”
“I feel in my gut that this is what we need to do.”
Gullin laughed, shaking his head. “You feel it in your gut. Spoken like a true greenhorn. Let’s say your ‘gut’ is right. What do you get out of this?”
David paused, trying to figure out what it was that Gullin was implying. “I’m not doing this for me. Acacia is dying. I do
n’t know if the Singing Turquoise is here or not, or if it will save her, but we don’t have clues to anything else.”
Gullin’s eyes darkened. “You don’t expect me to believe you’re doing this solely for her, do you? If you’re just doing this to get back home, I can send you back home. It’s no loss to me. But if you’re aiming to get something out of her, I’ll—”
“What is the matter with you?” David had enough of this distrust out of Gullin. “I know you want to help Acacia too, so why do you care about my reason—”
“Don’t call her that.” Gullin’s voice was ominous, although it was little more than a whisper.
David was debating whether to prod further to find out what had triggered Gullin’s sudden mood change, when Tanuki tugged on the cuff of his trousers.
“She said she doesn’t know anything about any stones,” Tanuki reported. “She doesn’t know what a spirit is, either. She said something about the Great Mother of the Herd that Protects Us, but she called me dumb for not knowing what that was, so I’m not talking to her anymore.” He crossed his little arms and raised his nose into the air.
Gullin smirked. “I don’t suppose you speak Bison too, boyo?” he asked.
David’s shoulders slumped, and he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Let’s look around. Maybe we’ll spot a town nearby.”
No sooner did they begin to walk away, Gullin clutched David by the arm and yanked him down into the tall grass.
“Ow! Gullin, what—” David’s voice was loud with indignation, but Gullin slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Quiet, we’ve got company,” Gullin whispered.
Peeking cautiously over the top of the grass, they watched as a dark shape moved across the plain, hunkered low to the earth. It appeared to be a smaller bison, for it had the same dark brown fur and horns. However, the skin hung too loosely, and it slinked by smoothly, not with a heavy animal’s lumbering gate. To add to the confusion, the smaller bison emitted a deep bellow that did not sound natural. It caught the attention of the female bison, who lifted her great head and turned towards it.
“What is that?” David whispered. “Something is off about that bison.”
“Because it’s not a bison,” Gullin muttered, and he cracked his knuckles. “It’s clear as day that noise is a calling horn. It’s a hunter.”
“A hunter, like you?”
Gullin shook his head. “We Master Huntsmen have a strict law in our guild not to kill a fellow human, unless in self defense. This hunter might not follow the same law.”
“Then let’s wait until he moves on,” David suggested. He did not doubt Gullin could scare off an opposing hunter, but they couldn’t see if the bison-skinned man had any weapons. Since the only weapon Gullin had was Orthros, it was too perilous to confront the stranger. He could have a bow and arrows, or a musket.
Gullin shook his head. “He’s already spotted us, boyo. I doubt he’s alone. It would take more than one man to bring down a beast that big.”
He had a point, and given that the grass was tall, more men could be hiding anywhere around them. The bison-skinned man called with the horn again, this time in two long howls and then one short blow—David worried that it was a warning to other hunters that may be nearby. The female bison started plodding towards the horn’s call.
Then they heard the rumbling.
From around the base of a hill came a stampeding herd of bison, as many as fifty or sixty. A brigade of warrior natives on horseback pursued them, hollering up a storm to keep the herd running. The mass of hooves, muscles and horns was heading straight towards the two men and the badger. The three scrambled to stand up and bolted as if the Mouth of the Underworld was closing in to swallow them up.
As David ran, he had a split second to be in awe of the natives’ cunning hunting tactics. The one native with the calling horn must have summoned enough of the bison from the nearby area to be within range, and then the remaining hunters funneled the herd towards a spot where there was probably a trap set and ready to snare several bison. He would have loved to make notes of this in his journal, if he wasn’t in danger of being trampled to death.
The female bison joined the panic and barreled ahead, lowing with urgency. Tanuki scurried to keep up with David and Gulluin, but tripped and tumbled head over paws. He was lost among the massive bison as they trampled the ground around him.
David stopped and turned around. His friend disappeared in the kicked-up dust and the tumult of rampaging giants. “Tanuki!”
“Don’t be daft!” Gullin called back as he kept running. Suddenly, he halted and came dashing back to David, his face tightened into a vicious snarl. David froze, thinking that Gullin had figured out an opportunity to get rid of him by knocking him into the oncoming bison. He was about to take his chances and escape back through the herd, when he saw the actual reason Gullin was running back to him. One of the hunters had spotted David, and his horse was galloping in pursuit towards him. In one fluid movement, the hunter swooped his arm down, nabbed David by the back of his shirt, and hoisted him belly-down onto his saddle. Gullin caught up to the horse and grabbed the hunter by the leg, wrenching him off his saddle and throwing him down on the ground. If there had been a moment to spare, David would have pointed out the contrariness of Gullin calling him “daft” while he was tackling an armed warrior barehanded.
David was thrown from the horse, and hit the ground heavily. His heart raced as he saw the nearing bulk of a bison that was sure to crush him. In half a second, he was yanked out of the bison’s path, clobbered on the back of the head, and sent into unconscious oblivion.
When David came to, there were no more bison. But there were many tan angry faces looking down at him, with stone-headed arrows pointing at his body.
Gullin had faired no better. He sat next to David, his hands tied behind his back with leather straps. “How’s your brain there, boyo? Not too broken, I hope.”
David tried to sit up slowly, but he too was bound. He regarded his captors, and he spoke slowly. “We don’t mean you harm. We’re friends. We need your help.”
“They tie us up, with arrows in our faces, and you’re telling them we don’t mean any harm? You must’ve been hit hard.” Gullin shook his head. “It’s no good anyway. They don’t speak our language, or at least don’t want to.”
The expressions on the natives’ faces did not lose their tense, suspicious glare. One of the warriors said something to them, but it was in his indigenous language, and neither Gullin nor David understood. But the command was threatening enough that neither of them moved or replied. The natives searched the two of them over, confiscating Gullin’s Orthros, David’s dagger, and his pouch of herb pellets. They also found his makeshift cross in his pocket, which caused the men to speak quickly to each other. David wondered why that item, of all things, made them react that way. He and Gullin were forced onto their feet, and the natives walked them over to where five horses were left grazing in a field. They were loaded onto one of the horses and carried off for what they predicted would be an unpleasant ride.
David was seated back-to-back with Gullin, facing the rear of the horse and looking out at the landscape behind them. He spotted a rabbit tailing after them with determined swiftness. The rabbit, with its familiar fur coloring and a blackish-brown scruff of tail rather than a white puff, was only a slight distortion of his true badger form, and David was somewhat relieved to know their friend had not abandoned them.
Somewhat. He would have been more relieved to know what exactly was in store for them.
Chapter Thirteen
The Native American settlement was a scattering of the nomadic tents that Gullin had talked about before, and seeing them only heightened David’s hopes, for they were surely the same shapes he had seen in Acacia’s dream. The people of the tribe tended to small gardens of food-bearing plants, tanned animal skins, and went about their daily tasks in much the same way David and his family completed chores. The thought of it made him
miss home very much. He even found himself longing for Acacia’s adoptive family and their brightly colored caravan.
The tribespeople stopped what they were doing when they saw David and Gullin being carried in. A curious silence hung in the air as the Scotsman and boy were pulled down off the horse, hands still bound, and led to one of the tribe’s largest tents.
Inside, the tent was adorned with various talismans and ritualistic relics that David had never seen before in any book. A small fire burned in a pit. Across the fire sat what could presumably be the oldest relic in the room, a silver-haired man with trenches of wrinkles in his skin, his frail body covered in a cloak made from the bronze-brown fur of a bear. He appeared asleep at first, for his head was lowered and he made no movement. When one of the hunters spoke to the elder in their native tongue, the ancient one lifted his head and looked at them with wizened, dark eyes.
“Please, sir, we didn’t mean to—” David was instantly cut off from saying more, as the warrior holding him smacked him on the back of the head.
The shaman reprimanded the young hunter in a rasping but authoritative tone. He regarded David for several moments of silence. “You are strangers here.”
David let out a sigh of relief that this shaman could speak English. “Yes, we come from very far away. We didn’t mean to trespass on your land. We are not a threat to you.”
One of the hunters brought the shaman the items that they had taken from David and Gullin. The shaman looked over the items, and picked up David’s cross. “Have you come to teach us about your God, like the others who have come here bearing this symbol?”
