Shakre nodded to the two women and they backed off, returning to helping with the food. She sat down beside Birna. “I am sorry,” she said softly.
Birna raised her tear-stained face. “You were right,” she said hoarsely. “We should have listened to you. The spirits, they are devouring us. My husband is lost to me.”
Pinlir’s father, Asoken, had been Firewalker for Bent Tree Shelter, and when the outsiders encircled the village, they had killed Asoken because he was too sick to leave his hut and answer the question. His murder had hit Pinlir especially hard and he’d been the first to volunteer to go with Rehobim to retaliate against them. He’d been the first Takare after Rehobim to take in one of the ancient spirits.
Birna leaned close. “I can see it when I look into his eyes. Pinlir is no longer in there. Someone else looks out through his eyes.” She grabbed Shakre’s arm, hard enough that it hurt. “Can you help him? You helped Jehu. You removed the black mark from him.”
“I will do what I can,” Shakre promised her, though she did not believe the aranti would be able to help in this instance, as it had helped with Jehu. If she could even summon it again. “If it helps, I believe that Pinlir is still in there, even if he does not hold the reins.”
She stayed with Birna a few minutes longer, then stood up to go. When she did, a child she didn’t know came up to her and took her hand.
“It’s my mother,” he said. “Something is wrong with her.” Shakre followed him through the camp to where a young woman was lying on the ground. A couple of Takare were kneeling by her. “She won’t get up,” the child said.
Shakre knelt down beside her and touched her forehead. The woman had a fever. When she checked her eyes, she saw that they had rolled back into her head. Her pulse was erratic. Concerned, Shakre went beyond and what she saw there startled her.
There were two small gray blotches on her akirma. Shakre reached out and touched one of them. A sharp pain made her jerk back.
Shakre left beyond, alarmed. What could be causing that?
Then she knew.
It was the gray flakes. It had to be. Some of them must have touched the woman. She looked at the others gathered around. “Do you know of anyone else with these same symptoms?”
“I do,” said one elderly man. He led her to another Takare, this one a girl about twelve. When Shakre went beyond she saw the same blotches. The same was true of two more of the Takare. She went back to Elihu and told him what she’d found.
“You said the people inside, on the other side of the gate, looked diseased,” Elihu said.
“They were,” Shakre confirmed, feeling sick at where this was leading.
“It is likely that Gulagh did the same thing to them, with the flakes.”
“Which means the Takare who were touched by them are going to end up the same way.”
“I’m afraid so,” Elihu said grimly. Seeing the stricken look on Shakre’s face he reached over and took her hands. “If it were not for you, we would all be in the same condition now. Remember that.”
“I don’t know if I can help them,” Shakre burst out, then clamped her hand over her mouth as she struggled to get herself under control. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“You may not be able to,” he said softly.
“But I—”
“No,” he cut her off. “You cannot save everyone. Did you save every person on the Plateau who came to you broken or ill? Don’t try to shoulder every life. If you do, you will crumble and be useless to us and we need you.”
Shakre swallowed hard and rubbed her eyes. “You’re right. If I lose it, I won’t be able to find the cure.”
Elihu regarded her sadly. “You should rest.”
“I will,” she promised him. “But I think we need to talk to Rekus. Tonight.”
“Maybe I should talk to Youlin again first.”
Shakre shook her head. “What makes you think it will do any good this time? She has refused to listen to either of us before. She can think of nothing but her obsession with returning the Takare to their place of power. When she looks at the spirit-kin she sees only weapons. Any suffering that comes of using those weapons is simply a price that has to be paid.” These were all things Youlin had said to her more than once.
“You are right,” Elihu said. “But at least she is only calling in one spirit each night now.” Calling in the spirits took a toll on Youlin and she was now too weak to summon more than one each night.
“Besides, Rehobim and the others have been keeping a close eye on her lately,” Shakre said. “I think they know we are suspicious. If we draw too much attention to ourselves, I don’t know what they’ll do. They may just kill us outright.”
“They would never raise a weapon against a Walker or the Windrider,” Elihu protested.
“I think they would. One nearly just killed his wife. Think about it. Who will stand against them? Who could stand against them?”
Elihu sighed and scratched his chin. “Sadly, I believe you are right.”
“We need to be careful about talking to Rekus too. I think we should wait until Youlin is doing the nightly calling and talk to him then. They’ll be so fixed on what she’s doing I don’t think they’ll notice us.”
Elihu thought about this for a while, then nodded. “There is wisdom in what you say. However, I believe we should wait until tomorrow night.”
“But we don’t know—”
Elihu put his finger to her lips. “You are worn out from today. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”
Thirty
Shakre was walking with Elihu the next day when they came over a low ridge and saw that the spirit-kin had stopped up ahead and were gathered around Rehobim and Youlin. Wondering what was going on, they hurried to catch up. The spirit-kin moved aside to let them through when they got there, but only reluctantly and more than one gave them a hostile look.
“What is happening?” Elihu asked Youlin when they reached her.
She turned to him. “Our scout has returned. The hidden way is closed to us.”
“How?” Shakre asked.
“A recent rock slide, perhaps triggered by Gulagh. A long section of the way is completely choked with rock.”
Shakre and Elihu exchanged looks. Oddly, Shakre felt almost relieved. All morning she’d been wondering what they could possibly do against Gulagh. As fearsome as the spirit-kin were, they were still no match for one of the Guardians. Would they pass through this hidden way only to be destroyed by the creature? Maybe they should give up on returning to their ancestral home. Maybe it was best to leave it to Gulagh and find somewhere else to live. She’d shared her thoughts with Elihu and he’d admitted that he was considering the same thing. Now Elihu spoke again.
“It is time for a proper gathering of all the Walkers. We need to discuss what comes next.”
Pinlir, standing beside Rehobim, suddenly advanced on Elihu. “The time for talking is over, old man. Go back and wait with the old women.”
His outburst shocked Shakre. No one spoke to a Walker like that. Elihu frowned, something he rarely did. He stood up to Pinlir.
“Your father, Asoken, would be ashamed to hear his son speak this way to a Walker. Have you completely forgotten who you are?”
Pinlir opened his mouth and for just a moment Shakre saw something in his eyes that made her think he was going to apologize. Then a snarl lifted his lips and he drew his axe instead. To Shakre’s surprise, Elihu still did not back down but instead, moving surprisingly quickly for a man his age, slapped the head of the weapon aside.
“Back down, Pinlir!” he barked.
Pinlir said, “Don’t call me that ever again.” What happened next was too fast for anyone to react to. He grabbed Elihu, spun him around and locked one arm around his throat. With his free hand he held the axe to Elihu’s throat. “Don’t think I am fooled. I know who you are, Genjinn.”
Everyone froze. Every eye was locked on the two of them. Pinlir jerked Elihu backwards, back into a haldan
e tree with its long, hooked yellow thorns, using the tree to keep anyone from getting behind him. His eyes darted this way and that and the blade drew a small trickle of blood from Elihu’s throat.
Automatically, Shakre started forward. Pinlir glared at her. “Go ahead, Tender. Try to save him. Call your wind. I need little reason to kill my old enemy Genjinn.” He turned on the rest of the spirit-kin standing around. “Look at you, whining and running, taking council with Tenders. Are you truly my people? My people are strong. We would not run. We would not beg. We take what is rightfully ours.”
Youlin turned on Rehobim. “He threatens Elihu, a respected Plantwalker. Why are you just standing there?” she snapped at him.
Rehobim gave her an odd, indecisive look, but made no move to intervene.
Youlin turned to the other spirit-kin. “Disarm him! Now!” None of them moved.
Fear gripped Shakre. She locked eyes with Elihu. He gave a tiny shake of his head. He looked calm and she knew he was not afraid of his death. But she was. The thought of losing him terrified her.
Pinlir’s eyes landed on Rehobim. “I see you in there, Tarnin, behind the weak, frightened child who calls himself Rehobim. Can you not see me? It is Kirtet, your loyal second.”
All eyes swung to Rehobim. The young warrior seemed to be fighting an internal battle. There was sweat on his face and he was trembling. His eyes rolled in his head.
“What of the rest of you?” Kirtet demanded of the other spirit-kin. “Will you stand up with me and reclaim what is ours?”
More of the spirit-kin began trembling. Two stepped forward as if to join Kirtet. One fell to his knees.
Kirtet spasmed suddenly. When it passed, the look in his eyes was different. Shakre saw and started to tell Elihu, but he must have felt it too, because he was already reacting.
Elihu closed his eyes and murmured something.
And the haldane tree answered.
Its limbs bent down, wrapping around the axe, and around Kirtet’s arms and legs. Kirtet fought to bring the axe to bear, but he could not move either of his arms. Blood ran where the thorns bit deep into his flesh. He struggled futilely for a few more seconds, then subsided. Elihu freed himself and moved out of reach. Shakre ran to him and threw her arms around him.
“You win. For now,” Kirtet said. He stared at Rehobim. “You know we must have the aid of the ronhym, whatever it takes.”
Rehobim gave him a strange look, but did not reply.
Another spasm and it was Pinlir once again, looking around in confusion. “What happened…?”
Elihu made a gesture and the haldane withdrew, releasing Pinlir.
Youlin turned on Rehobim, pushing her hood back so he could see her anger. “Why did you not help him?” she demanded.
Doubt and a trace of fear showed in Rehobim’s eyes. “I…could not, Pastwalker. I tried.”
“That is not acceptable. You are useless to me, useless to our people, if you cannot stay in control.”
Rehobim lowered his head. “Yes, Pastwalker.”
“Whatever old feuds existed between our people, they cannot be allowed to erupt now. Our enemy is Gulagh. Nothing else matters. Is this clear?”
“Yes, Pastwalker.”
Youlin gave Pinlir a contemptuous look. She gestured. “Strip him of his weapons. All of them.” She pointed to two of the spirit-kin. “I will hold you two personally responsible for his conduct. If he does anything like that again, you will face the same consequences as he does.”
Then Youlin turned and pushed her way angrily through the spirit-kin. Shakre and Elihu hurried after her. Shakre caught up to her once they were away from the others.
“What are we going to do about this?” she demanded, taking hold of the younger woman’s shoulder and forcing her to face her.
Youlin’s eyes blazed. “I do not have to answer to you. There is nothing more to be done now.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to turn a blind eye to what just happened?”
“I warned them the consequences would be very severe if they lost control again. Nothing else needs to happen.”
Her fear of almost losing Elihu pushed Shakre over the edge. “That’s not enough! Pinlir, or Kirtet, almost killed Elihu!”
“What else would you have me do?” Youlin yelled back at her. “What more can I do? Do you really think I command them? Don’t you see how thin my control really is?”
Tears started in her eyes and Shakre was suddenly reminded just how young Youlin really was. She was at most only a year older than Netra was, maybe to the end of her second decade. She wasn’t even finished with her Pastwalker training and she was the leader of all their people.
“I’m sorry,” Shakre said. “I was just…I thought he was going to kill Elihu.” She realized her hands were trembling uncontrollably and she was starting to cry. She felt Elihu put his arm around her and then she couldn’t stop the tears at all.
“We need them,” Youlin said. “Surely you can see that.”
“Do we really?”
“Look around. There are so few of us and we have powerful enemies. We need any help we can get. I know they are dangerous, believe me, I know. But we don’t have any choice.” She was staring into Shakre’s eyes, imploring her to believe her. “However dangerous they are, they are still our people. They will do everything they can to defend us against our enemies. This I know in my heart. Once we are safe behind Wreckers Gate and Gulagh is driven out, then we can deal with them. Maybe the ancient spirits can be coaxed out. I don’t know. We have to handle that when it comes. But for now they’re all we have.”
Shakre looked at Elihu, then back at Youlin. “Can you at least stop summoning in more of them?”
Youlin nodded. “It is becoming more difficult anyway. There are not so many of them left anymore.” Then she pulled up her hood and walked away.
Shakre watched her walk away, then turned to Elihu. “Kirtet. Tarnin. I think we need to find out who they were.”
“I agree. We will speak with Rekus tonight.”
“He called you Genjinn, but I have always thought you were Dremend-reborn.”
“I am. Dremend was my last life. I can name off the three before him, but not further back than that. I was never one much concerned with my past incarnations. I suppose at one time I was the man he called Genjinn.”
“Kirtet hates you for something you no longer remember.”
“There are lives and lives between me and Genjinn. I believe Kirtet has lingered in the darkness since that time, with no new lives to wash away his hatred.”
“Kirtet. Tarnin. The rest of them. Why do you think they were never reborn to the Takare?”
Elihu’s look was grim. “Either they were cast out, or they cast themselves out. My guess is that it has something to do with the dark days surrounding the slaughter at Wreckers Gate.”
Thirty-one
That night, after the evening meal, Shakre and Elihu sought out Rekus. As usual he was sitting by himself, staring at the ground. His long gray hair was unbound and hung down around his face. The two sat down beside him. Shakre looked around to make sure none of the spirit-kin were watching them. None of them were looking her way. She turned to Rekus.
“It is time we spoke, Pastwalker.”
He gave no indication he had heard her.
“Enough of this,” Elihu said sharply. “Pastwalker, your people need you.”
Rekus glanced up at them briefly, surprised, as Shakre was, by the steel in Elihu’s tone. But still he did not speak and his gaze turned back to the ground.
“You have taken vows,” Elihu continued, leaning in close to him. “You have sworn to aid your people to the extent of your abilities, regardless of the cost to you.”
Rekus shrugged. “This is true,” he said listlessly. “And I did. I aided my people to the extent of my abilities.” He gave them a raw look, full of self-loathing. “It nearly led to the death of everyone I know.” The words hung there for a moment, then he con
tinued. “My people are better off without my service. I lived so firmly in the past that I could not see the present had arrived. I wish the outsiders had killed me. I am of no use to my people anymore.”
“That is not for you to decide.”
“If you need a Pastwalker, why not speak with Youlin? She is more of a Pastwalker than I ever was.”
“She is young. Too young to have completed her training. You know this to be true. You have age and wisdom that she does not.”
“At least one of those is true.”
“Please, Rekus,” Shakre said. “We need you. I know how you feel and—”
“No,” Rekus said sharply. “You don’t.”
“But I do,” Shakre said. “On the morning the outsiders came to our shelter the wind tried to warn me but I wouldn’t listen.” Elihu gave her a surprised look. She had not spoken of this to him before. “If I had listened, we would have had time to escape before they arrived.”
“So? That does not alter my failings.”
“The point is that I didn’t give up after that. I keep trying. I make mistakes, but I haven’t quit.”
“All we need from you is information,” Elihu said. “Surely you will not begrudge your people that?”
Rekus sighed. “What is it you wish to know?”
“Who, or what, are the ronhym? Who are Kirtet and Tarnin?”
At the mention of the ronhym Rekus’ face grew pained. “We do not speak of the ronhym,” he said. “That knowledge is not to be shared.”
That surprised Shakre. The Pastwalkers were the keepers of the past. Their mission was to keep it alive, to keep it pure, so that the Takare could learn and not repeat their mistakes.
“You are a Pastwalker,” Elihu said, anger creeping into his voice. “It is your role to share knowledge with your people, not to withhold it.”
“I did not make this decision,” Rekus replied. “It was made long ago by my predecessors. Only at the end of our training does each generation of Pastwalkers learn of the ronhym and each of us takes a vow to keep what we know silent. It is why Youlin knows nothing of them.” His voice choked off. “There are reasons.”
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