Shadow World

by A. C. Crispin

  Cautiously Mark scooped up some of the warm liquid in the feeding straw they had been using. Then he gently eased Terris loose from hinsi's sleeping grip on his sweater and settled the child in his lap.

  He looked down at the baby and then around the group, wondering if each of them had the same knot in his or her (or hin's) stomach that he did. This has to work. You're going to eat this stuff, Terris!

  Mark jiggled the baby. Terris woke sluggishly, then jerked and pushed against his hands with a sharp cry. Hinsi's honey- colored body shivered with urgency. "Hey, hey," he soothed.

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  "We've got food this time." He placed the feeding straw against the baby's mouth.

  Terris' snubbed nose wrinkled. The dull, fitful look that had come into the green eyes in the past day changed to one of eagerness. "C'mon, taste it ..."

  Suddenly hinsi's tiny jaws clamped on the straw, and the baby sucked mightily.

  Tears rose in Cara's eyes. "That's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen."

  You are so right! Mark thought. It didn't take Terris long to finish the first strawful. Quickly he prepared another. As he offered it to Terris and the baby began to slurp, Mark's eye was suddenly caught by the date that showed on one side of his wrist watch. "Well, I'll be damned," he said, and looked up at his companions with a grin. "Guess what, Cara? Today's my birthday! I'm twenty!"

  "Well, congratulations!" she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry I don't have more of a present for you."

  Mark looked down at the eagerly gulping Terris. "This is the best birthday present anyone ever had," he said quietly.

  "I wish ..." Cara began softly, then she stopped. The sudden sadness on her face made it obvious that she had thought of Misir, left miles behind, but she tried to cover up. "I wish we could bathe," she finished instead, plastering on a smile. "Could we?"

  "If we don't waste too much time. There's a cake of soap in the supplies."

  Taking turns to allow for the few shreds of privacy left after days together in the wilderness, they sluiced themselves off quickly in the cold, refreshing stream. Cara checked Mark's wound, found it to be healing, then

  rebandaged it.

  Feeling pleasantly wealthy, they repacked their knapsacks, glorying in the several leaf-wrapped bundles of sestel and five full canteens of water.

  Mark programmed the waterfall and the stream into the map's grid. Activating the plotting function, he watched as it figured the stream's projected course and displayed it. As he'd thought it might, the hairlike bright line crawled to and merged with the only body of water the grid had previously shown, a small lake that had been off their previous course.

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  Having detoured to reach the stream, they were now on a direct line with it.

  He showed the map to Hrrakk' and Eerin. "This lake is about two hours away, and we can follow this stream all the way. We should get there just before dark, then sleep there. Frankly, Cara and I are still tired ... we really need a long rest."

  Hrrakk' grunted agreement, and Mark thought to himself that even the Simiu was beginning to look weary.

  "I've plotted a new course to the nahah, using the lake as a reference point,"

  he added, "and it actually turns out to be a couple of kilometers less than the original one we were following. There's no need for us to backtrack."

  Cara had been inspecting one of the yellow-leafed trees, and she came running back with cupped hands. "Look what's growing at the base of those leaves!"

  In her hands were fat, round marbles of fruit, and they were as odd as everything else about the trees. At their heart was a gold gumdrop-looking center, but encasing it was an outer shell of firm, spongy texture. It was a much lighter shade of gold and just translucent enough to allow a view of the brighter center.

  "Do you think they're safe to eat?" asked Cara. "I'm so sick of those dry nutrient bars."

  Quickly Mark checked it with the cell analyzer. Hrrakk' nodded when he pronounced it safe. "None of the poisonous berries on Elseemar grow on trees," he said. "There are several varieties, but they all grow on ground-crawling vines."

  Mark was surprised again by Hrrakk's knowledge of this planet, and was tempted to ask how the Simiu knew, but he was distracted by the enticing scent of the globes in his hand. He bit eagerly into the fruit, finding the outer section pleasantly tangy and chewy, while the inner heart had a milder bite, and deliciously washed down the whole mouthful with its juiciness. Mark and Cara gorged on the berries, and the Apis, a fruit-eater by nature, enjoyed a hearty helping as well.

  Eerin crammed hinself, too, with handful after handful of the raw sestel stems and roots. Mark had always had to stifle a chuckle at the eagerness with which Eerin ate, but something about this time chilled him. Eerin stuffed the untidy bundles under hin's orange tongue too quickly, too methodically, too ... too urgently.

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  Not like a person who's hungry, thought Mark. Even really hungry. It's like something else is driving this eating fit.

  Eerin seemed to sense his speculative gaze. The compulsive eating

  stopped immediately, and the Elpind rose. "Hin must dance the Mortenwol before we leave."

  There was no white feather in Eerin's headdress this time, but, otherwise, the dance struck a welcome chord of familiarity in the middle of this alien wilderness. From his two weeks of every-morning attendance at Eerin's ritual and the several times since then, Mark knew the movements and their order so well that he sometimes thought he could have danced the

  Mortenwol himself.

  Even now, exhausted, aching, and anxious to get under way again, Mark felt the music call to his blood. It gave him a much-needed surge of vicarious energy, and he found himself enjoying the dance more than he had since first learning what its name meant.

  Until Eerin stumbled and fell.

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  Chapter 16 CHAPTER 16

  The Shadowbird

  "Eerin!" Cara cried, leaping up--but Mark was already there, kneeling by the Elpind's side.

  "Hin is fine," the alien was saying. Eerin sat up, then tried to stand, but Mark gently restrained the Elpind.

  "Do you feel dizzy?" he asked. "Does anything hurt?"

  "Hin is fine," Eerin repeated. "Clumsy only. If hin dances every day, hin must fall sometimes. It is the average law."

  "Law of averages," corrected Cara automatically. "Eerin, are you sure you're all right?"

  The down-covered Elpind nodded, and Mark reluctantly let his pair partner up. "Hin does not need to finish," Eerin said. "Hin has wasted enough walking time. Let us go."

  "Not a waste," protested Cara. " The Mortenwol is never a waste."

  Eerin's golden eyes sparkled grateful y.

  Mark said nothing, only helped the Elpind pack the kareen and the five feathers back into their respective cases. Cara saw that he was troubled far beyond what the little episode warranted, and she remembered his quizzing her about Eerin right after Misir's burial. What's going on?

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  The group turned their backs on the little gorge and headed down the streambed. Except for that brief nap--or collapse might be more accurate--

  we've been walking for nearly twenty-four hours straight, Cara thought, falling into her usual rear position. I can hardly believe I'm still on my feet.'

  The water and her sluicing in the cold water had refreshed her, but she knew her energy would fade fast. She needed sleep, hours of it. She thought longingly of Mark's promise.

  As they walked, Cara found herself watching Eerin. There was definitely something wrong. The Elpind's usual springy gait was a steady plod, and each time the humans took a sit- down break, hin took one, too. The Elpind also ate steadily as they walked. Cara watched as the alien wadded and thrust bundle after bundle of sestel stems under hin's tongue. It's a wonder hin doesn't get sick, she thought, concerned.

  Cara's unease was heightened by the fact that both Mark and the Simiu were watching Ee
rin every bit as intently as she was.

  After nearly two hours of following the water, a small hill rose up before them.

  "Going around would be the long way," Mark said, checking the plotter. "The lake should be right on the other side of this hill. We can pick up the stream again on the other side."

  They were halfway up when Hrrakk' yipped sharply. Cara, following his gaze, looked up into the sky and gasped. The Shadowbird soared by

  overhead, a splash of brilliant colors against the pale blue of Elseemar's sky.

  The bird voiced that high-pitched musical cry that was so similar to Eerin's kareen.

  "Elseewas!" cried Eerin. Hin leaped into a bounding run. "The lake!"

  Mark sprinted after the Elpind. "Hurry, Cara! Come on!"

  Waving her camera on, Cara forced her tired legs into a run as she followed the others over the crest of the hill and halfway down the other slope, skidding to a stop where the group paused. The lake spread out before their view.

  It was small but apparently very deep, for the water shaded to a vivid blue in the middle. Reflections from the surrounding yellow flame trees (as Cara had come to think of them) slanted across its smooth surface, giving the illusion of a sapphire set in a golden brooch.

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  What are we watching for? Cara wondered, then she remembered Mark's story about the Elseewas. She shaded her eyes from the setting sun to scan the sky. Is this one going to do its final dance and then its suicide dive? "Do you think it's making its last flight?" Cara asked the Elpind.

  "Perhaps. If so, we will be privileged. It is said that to see the death of an Elseewas is to have one's life changed forever," Eerin said quietly.

  "There it is!" Mark cried, pointing. The sun had nearly set by now, and the first moon was clearly visible. But even in the fading light, the bird seemed to glow as it soared against the sky. The last, slanting rays from the setting sun struck sparks of scarlet fire off its wings.

  The Elseewas looped in a slow glide around the lake's perimeter. It flew low, just clearing the tops of the trees. Its song was soft and low, a bittersweet dirge.

  It's saying good-bye, thought Cara. Good-bye to all the earthly pleasures of life, like food and warm breezes and a tree to shelter in. She thought suddenly, painfully, of Misir.

  The bird wheeled majestically over the lake, turning on its side and swooping so low that the tip of one red-feathered wing ruffled the calm surface of the water. Cara held her breath, thinking this must be the moment when the Elseewas would sink down farther and drown.

  But the bird leveled out, then, flapping its wings powerfully, it rose into the air again. The full-bodied, mournful notes of its song ceased. Again the bird shrilled a single note, but this one was the leaping-up, joyful note they had heard so many times during the start of the Mortenwol.

  Cara gasped as the Elseewas suddenly angled sharply up. Driving like pistons, its powerful wings cut the air, propelling the creature higher and higher. Now its song split into tumbling trills, and its body spun and twirled in aerial somersaults through the sky. A bright reflection of its colorful, carefree beauty flashed back and forth across the surface of the lake.

  The song trembled in the air, and the bird soared upward in a tight spiral.

  Cara strained her eyes, waiting for it to climb out of sight.

  But just before it disappeared, the Shadowbird spread its wings to their furthest, slowed, then arced over in a seemingly

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  impossible turn that was nearly a backward flip. For a long, long moment the Elseewas hovered, its song altering from melody to more of a penetrating call.

  Cara imagined she heard urgency in the sound and an eager anticipation. It sounds the way you do when you shout to someone on the other side of a door, "Open up! I'll be right there!" she thought.

  The Elseewas tilted gently so that the variegated tail pointed up and its sleek, red head pointed downward. Once more the mighty wings beat air.

  The first stroke propelled the bird into a dive, the second and third gave that dive hurtling speed. The red wings folded tightly to its body as it plunged down ... down ...

  It was a long way down, and all the way that wild, glad cry rang from the Shadowbird's throat.

  A ruby reflection trembled to the surface of the water like a welcoming spirit, and the bird burst through. A small plume of water was flung up, then fell back with a quick splash and a watery exhalation almost like a sigh. Darting ripples danced out from the center and then rings of slower, larger ones floated farther out and gently disappeared.

  Silence spread over the lake like benediction.

  Cara felt Mark's hand slide around hers and grip tightly.

  Eerin woke when the third moon, Elrans, rode a high apex in the sky. With the angles of Aanbas, the first-to-rise, and Orood, the last-to-set, they made an elongated triangle overhead, and nested in the center of the triangle was the tiny fourth moonlet, Inid. The night was a chiaroscuro of black and white as the shadows skittered.

  The Elpind shifted restlessly as yet another of the eleven sacred points on hin's body erupted into fiery pain. Eerin reached cautious fingers to take inventory. Yes, the sixth slirin was open. One more day--perhaps less--

  before Enelwo.

  Eerin watched the shadows flit across the sleeping shapes of hin's companions and touch the back of the tall, light-haired figure standing watch.

  They were comforting, these shadows, and hin was glad to be, if not home, at least on Elseemar.

  The thought of home brought a different pain. In the wide valley dotted with softly shaped hills and nourished by the

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  deep waters of the rivers Rainel and Rainwo, the Change was a known thing. At the opening of the first slirin the call went out to all the family, and feasting began. At the last moment, just before all strength fled, the one-who-was-to-Change danced the last Mortenwol that would ever be danced as a neuter, and all the young hin of the family joined in. And when the slisrin began to weep in earnest, the elder siblings, those who had already become han and been, began the vigil.

  All these things were done and always had been done, and many times Eerin had seen in hin's mind how it would be when the word went out, "Eerin nears Enelwo."

  Now it would not be so.

  Eerin looked at the sleepers, at Mark's guarding figure again. These companions had become dear, but they were not Elspind. They could not know how it felt to dance to the threshold of one's second birth. They could not comprehend the chasm that separated hin from han and heen, nor the many-sided whirl of joy and terror at crossing it.

  Was there any way to explain the comfort of even Wo's dark presence through the journey, a comfort formed of long and close association, a comfort resting on the total absence of something Eerin saw clearly in the humans? Hin doubted it. This fear of death in them, it was so much darker than Wo itself.

  The Elpind sat up and reached for the nearby stash of sestel stems, hastily rolled a round wad, and slipped it under hin's tongue. With shaking fingers hin prepared a dozen more while the words of an ancient Telling echoed in hin's memory:

  "The hunger before Enelwo is first one of preparation, then of strong need, and, finally, a craving that beats like a pulse through the body. The hunger that rises after Enelwo is many times more a craving: deeper than the bone, swifter-rushing than the fevered blood, and sweet, very sweet. To eat will quench the fire of hunger; to mate will also soothe, but will also kindle greater fire. By the mystery of rizel do shadows cast shadows."

  Eerin thrust another wad of sestel beneath hin's tongue, rose, then slipped like a silent white shadow to Mark's side.

  The human started when hin appeared. "You're not supposed to sneak up on the person standing watch," he complained.

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  Eerin looked up into the face that had become so familiar. "Mark Kenner was still very tired when hin awoke heen for Mark's turn at watch ... but that time is past, is it not? Why does Mark not sleep again?"
r />   "I was supposed to wake Hrrakk' for watch an hour ago," the human admitted, "but by then I was wide awake. I keep thinking about the Shadowbird, seeing it again in that final plunge." Mark studied hin. "Eerin ...

  what's wrong with you? Tel me, please."

  The Elpind hesitated. The time had come to tell hin's pair partner, and Eerin dreaded to see pain enter Mark's eyes. Heen would regard the Change only as a prelude to Wo, not as life's greatest adventure.

  Seeing the Elpind's reluctance, Mark spoke again. "You're about to go through Enelwo, aren't you?"

  Eerin sighed. "Mark is correct."

  The young man nodded, then looked away. "I knew it. Are you scared?"

  "No."

  "But why is it happening early? Three whole years early!" On the last words a hint of the anguished resistance Eerin had been expecting touched Mark's voice.

  "It is not unknown for Enelwo to come early."

  "Three years?"

  "There are some factors that are often associated with an early Change," hin admitted. "Elspind live in the cool river valleys in the midst of mountains.

  Only for one brief period during Elseemar's cycle about the sun does the temperature in those valleys rise unpleasantly high. It is then that the hin who will mature during that cycle experience Enelwo. The desert ... is always hot. No hin would go there lightly."

  "You're saying that it was the desert heat that triggered this early Change?

  That it altered your hormonal balance?"

  "Hin believes so. The stress may have been a factor, also."

  "Shit!" Mark stalked away a few meters and stood with his back to the Elpind.

  Eerin saw the tension in his body and did not follow.

  After a long moment of silence Mark said, still with his back turned, "Being held captive by the hijackers all those days, that was stress no one could have predicted or, once it began,

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  stopped. But, when we ... when I was choosing volunteers for this team ...

  Why?" He whirled back around. "Why didn't you tell me what could happen?

  Why didn't you stay with the ship?"

  "The ship was in the desert," Eerin pointed out gently. "The heat would still have been there. And the stress."