The four strangers disappeared, and from behind the curtain came rapid, low-pitched muttering. Grimya heard the bed frame creak; then, moments later, the curtain was pushed back and the fat woman emerged. She looked at them, her stare sharp and intense, then spoke three emphatic words before turning and striding back into the room. Grimya’s embryonic understanding of these people’s speech wasn’t enough for her to be sure of what was said, but a telepathic inkling of the meaning, and the kemb woman’s gasp, which seemed to mingle astonishment and awe, were enough to confirm her suspicion that the fat woman’s words translated roughly as: she is the one.
Grimya didn’t know where the four strange women had come from or who or what they were, but it was clear from the outset that the kemb family held them in awe. More important, it seemed that they believed the newcomers might help Indigo where their own efforts had failed. No one was allowed to witness what took place in the curtained room, and whether the skills the women used were medical or magical, Grimya would never know, but after an hour or so, their leader returned to the storeroom with a look of stern satisfaction on her face.
By the time she made her appearance, the kemb had been transformed. The family, caught unawares by their visitors’ unexpected arrival, had made frantic efforts to prepare every possible honor and facility for their guests. The children had been set to sweeping and tidying under the shrill command of one of the young women, and the granddame and the dumpy wife were busy at the stove, while the men had hung a strange but obviously precious assortment of decorations and fetishes at the storeroom’s windows and door. Bundles of leaves and fleshy, alien-looking flowers had been hastily brought from the, surrounding forest to be woven in among the decorations and strewn on the floor, and one rattan chair had been adorned like a makeshift throne.
The fat woman stopped on the inner threshold and looked about critically. The entire kemb family had gathered deferentially at one side of the room, and for perhaps half a minute no one spoke. Then the fat woman nodded curtly, uttered a grunt that seemed to imply very well, walked to the bedecked chair and sat down.
The atmosphere palpably eased. Muting a sigh of relief, the eldest of the men snapped his fingers at the younger women, and they hastened to the stove and began to fill wooden bowls from the three pots simmering there. Another man brought out cups and poured some strong-smelling brew from a stone jar. He handed the first cup to the granddame, who in turn offered it to the fat woman, and her acceptance was the sign for other cups to be filled. The granddame was then permitted to sit; the others, though, remained standing as the mute, wide-eyed women set bowls of food on the floor at their guest’s feet. The fat woman selected a morsel from each bowl, chewed, nodded approval and then turned to address the granddame, who, it seemed, was the only one present who warranted being treated as something akin to an equal.
Grimya, who had found herself a place as close as possible to the newcomer without being conspicuous, listened carefully to the speech she made and to the old woman’s responses. Each time the guest paused, the granddame would nod complaisantly and repeat the same two words, “Ain, Shalune.” Ain, Grimy knew, meant yes, and she quickly realized that Shalune must be the fat woman’s name or title. She was, it seemed, either issuing instructions or stating a series of facts, and as she continued to speak, the granddame’s expression and those of her kin changed. They were excited by something Shalune was telling them; at one point the kemb owner’s dumpy wife gave a little exclamation of delight. When finally Shalune was done, everyone in the room bowed forward, their palms flat together in gestures of reverential gratitude.
Grimya, though, felt only alarm. Unlike the kemb family Shalune’s mind was psychically active and therefore, at least on the shallowest level, open to a little telepathic probing, and the wolf had gleaned something of her thoughts as she spoke. It seemed that she and her cohorts considered Indigo important in some way. Grimya didn’t know how or why, but Shalune’s meaning was unmistakable—as was her intention. She meant to take Indigo away from the kemb, to somewhere—Grimya couldn’t understand it clearly—that was especially significant, while the family was to be rewarded or granted some particular privilege for diligence in caring for her before Shalune’s arrival. As Shalune’s hosts repeated their thanks over and over again, Grimya felt her stomach contract queasily. Where was this place of Shalune’s? And why was she planning to take Indigo there? What did the women want with her? If they meant to harm her in any way … but no, Grimya reasoned, she’d sensed no harmful intent in Shalune’s thoughts; rather, the opposite. Indigo was important to these strangers. But why? It made no sense.
Surreptitiously she looked toward the inner door, wondering if she might slip away to see Indigo without being noticed, but then she remembered that Shalune’s three companions were still in the curtained room. She must be patient, bide her time, cope with her fears and wait for an opportunity to visit her friend when—if—she was untended for a few minutes. It wouldn’t be easy, but, for now at least, it was all she could do. Disconsolately, she settled down to wait.
Grimya’s opportunity came later that afternoon. After her meal, Shalune had rejoined her companions in Indigo’s room, and it was some time before she returned. When she did, however, Grimya’s heart quickened eagerly, for this time all four women entered the storeroom together, leaving Indigo alone.
By now, word of the group’s presence had spread. The granddame, presumably with Shalune’s permission, had dispatched the youngest boys to put the word about to their neighbors, and a small crowd had gathered in respectful silence outside the kemb. Most had brought some gift for the women, and after quenching her thirst with another cup of the household’s brew, Shalune condescended to step out onto the veranda to look the offerings over. The gifts were apparently the price expected for some small service such as a medical prescription, a piece of advice, an adjudication in a dispute.
It was clear now that Shalune and her ilk were the guardians and the instruments of religion or law or both, and their preoccupation with the incomers gave Grimya the opportunity she had awaited. Taking care that the young kemb woman wasn’t watching her, she eased her way around the edge of the room, then slipped through the door and ran along the passage to Indigo’s room. She pushed at the curtain with her muzzle, wriggled through—and stopped.
Indigo was sitting up in the low-slung bed. Her back had been carefully bolstered and her skin looked like thin, damp paper, but she was conscious, and Grimya knew as their eyes met that the fever was all but gone.
Indigo! The wolf remembered just in time not to shout her friend’s name aloud! She rushed to the bed and leaped up, her whole body quivering with excitement as she licked Indigo’s face.
“Oh, Grimya!” Indigo hugged her with all the little strength she had. “Grimya, Grimya!”
Hush! Grimya warned. I’m not supposed to be here. They would drive me out if they knew. Indigo, are you all right? I’ve been so worried!
Indigo subsided and her arms fell to her sides. The effort of embracing the she-wolf had exhausted her, though she tried not to let Grimya see how weak she was. I’m mending fast, my dear, she communicated silently. I don’t know what that woman gave me, but it drove the fever out more quickly than any nostrum I’ve ever known. She paused. How long was I delirious?
Some days, Grimya told her, if you count the time in the forest before we found this place. Do you remember the storm?
Indigo shook her head. I don’t remember anything from the morning when I woke up and felt the fever coming on.
That was five days ago. You were so ill, I didn ‘t know what to do. At last I asked the Earth Mother for help, and I believe She answered me and brought us here.
Indigo looked around at the room. What is this place, Grimya ? I tried to ask the women, but we don’t understand each other’s tongue.
As best she could, Grimya told her about the kemb and its inhabitants and described the circumstances that had led her to seek help here. But,
she said when the explanation was done, there’s something else you must know, something that worries me greatly. I don’t understand the women’s speech either, but I’ve been able to read some of the thoughts of the fat one—Shalune, I think she is called. Indigo, they mean to take you away!
Take me away? Indigo frowned. Where?
I don’t know. To some very special place, I think, but I don’t know where it is or why they mean to go there. I believe… Grimya hesitated, wondering if her suspicion would sound foolish, then decided that it must be said. I believe that you are important to them in some way.
Indigo was both astonished and baffled. But I’m a complete stranger, an outsider—
I know. I don’t understand it either. But I think there is something religious in this. The one called Shalune, she seems to be some kind of… The wolf groped for the right word, and Indigo ventured: Priestess?
Yes! Grimya’s tongue lolled eagerly.
A priestess. Indigo considered the thought uneasily. She couldn’t think clearly; the fever hadn’t completely abated and in addition to her physical weakness, she still felt that she might all too easily slip back into delirium. She needed time to recover her strength and her full wits, time to assimilate what Grimya was telling her, and above all, time to consider what she should do. If, that was, the priestesses were willing to give her any say in her own future.
Suddenly there were sounds of feet in the corridor and the low murmur of voices. Grimya turned around with a guilty start, and the curtain swung back to admit Shalune and her three cohorts.
Shalune saw Grimya and her brows knitted quickly. Uttering an angry expletive, she strode forward, clapping her hands imperiously to drive the she-wolf off the bed and out of the room.
“No!” Indigo protested. “Let her stay… I want her to stay.”
Shalune paused. Grimya had hunched down nervously, and Indigo slipped an arm around her, holding her protectively. She looked the fat woman directly in the eye and repeated, slowly and clearly, “I want her to stay.”
Indigo was prepared for a confrontation, but it didn’t come. Instead, Shalune’s expression became chagrined. She made uncertain signs, as though trying to confirm Indigo’s meaning, and Indigo nodded vigorously, first pointing to Grimya and then patting the bed’s surface with emphasis. Shalune understood. She put the palms of her hands together in an acquiescent gesture and bowed her head submissively, stepping back a pace.
Then, to Indigo’s and Grimya’s utter astonishment, as though their leader’s action had been a prearranged signal, the other three women dropped to one knee in a formal and unambiguously reverent salute.
•CHAPTER•III•
Five more days passed before Shalune judged Indigo fit to travel. It was a peculiar and uncomfortable hiatus, for the presence in the kemb of the four priestesses had an inhibiting effect on everyone. The trader family’s lives were greatly disrupted; they spared no pains to serve their guests in every way possible, and it was clear that they considered themselves greatly honored by the visit, but with their best sleeping accommodations given over to the strangers, and a good deal of business lost in the hours they spent ministering to their needs, the strain began to tell.
As far as she was able, Grimya kept out of the priestesses’ way. She was very wary of Shalune and her companions. The feeling didn’t quite extend to dislike or mistrust; it was just an instinct that she couldn’t rationally explain. She said nothing to Indigo in their few private moments, not wanting to worry her, but instead took the simple expedient of avoiding the four women’s company whenever possible.
To begin with, the she-wolf suffered many lonely hours. Indigo was asleep for much of the time, slowly recovering her strength, and during her short waking periods, Shalune would more often than not detail at least one of her subordinates to sit with her in the close, quiet sickroom. The kemb family was too busy to pay Grimya much attention-even the youngest children were allowed no time to play with her—and beyond the ordinary routine of giving her food and water and an occasional kindly word, they left her to her own devices.
Had they been anywhere in the world but the Dark Isle, Grimya thought, she might have spent her time hunting, a pleasure that she greatly enjoyed and that might have enabled her to repay her generous hosts with some fresh meat. But hunting in this dank, heavy forest was a far cry from stalking and chasing through the cool greenery of the Western Continent or over the snows of the Redoubt. Here there were pitfalls at every turn: flowers and leaves that stung like hornets, reptiles that spat poison, crawling things that could bite even through her thick fur to draw blood and raise painful rashes on her skin.
Besides, Grimya didn’t know that she’d want to catch, let alone eat, the game animals she had seen lurking among the trees hereabouts, for something about them repelled her. They looked unwholesome, dull and slinking and surly things, living their lives in a world of lush semidarkness and decay, and utterly alien to a wolf born and bred in the clean, bracing cold of the far south. Their uncooked and unspiced flesh, she suspected, would taste as repellent as they themselves looked to her, and—though she knew the comparison was irrational—they reminded her in an obscure way of the warped creatures she’d seen, more years ago than she could count, in the poisoned volcanic mountains of Vesinum.
She wished with all her heart that they’d never come here. The Dark Isle had a reputation throughout the world as an unhealthy, unclean place that was better shunned, and when Indigo had made the decision to leave the city-state of Davakos on the Western Continent and set out once more on her travels, Grimya had tried to persuade her not to cross the great island but to find another route for their journey. Indigo had refused. They must go northeastward, she had said, and northeastward meant just that. The only other choice was to sail north through the Snakemaw Straits and then bear toward the Jewel Islands and the Eastern Continent beyond, and that was something she didn’t want to do. Grimya had understood the reason for her reluctance. Both the Jewel Islands and the Eastern Continent held terrible memories for Indigo: memories of friends who had died a quarter of a century ago during her desperate bid to find and unmask the Serpent-Eater of Khimiz. Memories, too, of friends who had survived that ordeal with her but who had since aged a quarter of a century while Indigo remained unchanged, friends who would now be unrecognizable. Indigo desperately didn’t want to risk meeting them again. Worst of all, she didn’t want to risk discovering that time had got the better of them and they had died a natural death. She’d already suffered that blow once, when she and Grimya had returned to Davakos after an absence of more than twenty years. They had had an old and dear friend among the Davakotians, a tough little woman called Macce, who had been both shipmate and close confidante when Indigo had crewed on the Kara Karai under her command. Indigo had promised Macce that she would return one day. She had kept the promise at last, but its fulfillment came too late and she and Grimya had reached Davakos’s shores only to learn that the little sea captain had come to the end of her natural span and gone peacefully to the Earth Mother. Indigo had grieved deeply. She felt—and nothing Grimya could say would sway her—that she had betrayed her old friend. The wolf didn’t understand this complex and peculiarly human reasoning, but she knew Indigo well enough to believe that her decision to travel directly across the Dark Isle and subject herself to its hostilities rather than take the easier route was some kind of self-imposed penance, a way of atoning for her failure by inflicting hardship on herself. Macce, Grimya thought sadly, would never have approved of such foolish behavior.
But, wise or no, the thing was done now and they must make the best of it. At least there was the cheering knowledge that Indigo was improving by the day—indeed, almost by the hour—and whatever her doubts about Shalune and her followers in other ways, for that Grimya was deeply grateful to them.
On the third day of her recovery, Indigo was allowed to leave her bed for the first time, and while she sat on the kemb veranda in the comparative cool of
late afternoon, she and Grimya had their first chance in some while to talk privately together without interruption. In the last few days, Grimya’s telepathic sense had enabled her to pick up a good deal more of their hosts’ tongue, and though she had kept her distance from Shalune’s cohorts, she had nevertheless overheard snippets of their talk here and there. That, together with the extraordinary scene she had witnessed at Indigo’s bedside, had enabled her to piece together at least a partial jigsaw of the women’s intentions.
They were talking of omens, she silently told Indigo, after glancing back—illogically—over her shoulder lest someone should be watching them. I didn’t understand much of what I heard, but I think they were led here by something that happened or something that they saw. It has a connection with you, Indigo, I’m sure of it. With what they said before about you being “the one.”
Indigo stared at the still, heavy forest canopy a few yards from the kemb. “The one …” she mused aloud, then switched back to telepathic speech. You didn’t overhear any more details? Such as in which direction this place of theirs lies?
No. Grimya paused. Why? Is that important?
It might be. Indigo reached into the neck of her shirt and took the small lodestone from its leather pouch that hung constantly around her neck and was one of her oldest possessions. Grimya looked at the stone as it slid into Indigo’s palm and said, Ah….
I studied it last night before I slept. But the message it gave me wasn’t as straightforward as I expected—look, I’ll show you. Indigo held the stone out so that Grimya could see its flat surface. Quivering within it was a minute fleck of gold light, and as Grimya felt Indigo’s mind focus and concentrate, the tiny pinpoint moved abruptly to one edge of the stone.
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