Outcast

by Michelle Paver

  began." She shuddered. "People would fall into a deathlike sleep and wake screaming, bitten by slithering demons in their dreams. Then the catch failed."

  Yolun shook his head. "There used to be times when the fish were so plentiful that you could step from your boat and run across their backs, all the way to the shore. But this spring--hardly any. And what we do take is twisted. Cursed."

  "Every spring," said Ananda, "the ice river in the east sends much water to the Lake. It's a time of great blessing, when the water rises so high that its voice beneath our shelters laps us to sleep. Not this spring. The Lake sinks lower and lower."

  "Trouble always comes from the west!" cried Yolun, fixing his red-rimmed eyes on the strangers. "We heard tell of an outcast, heading for the Lake. Then we saw him. Hestole the sacred clay;hebrought the troubles! And now these strangers have come to make it worse!" At the mention of Torak, Renn and Bale stiffened. Neither dared meet the other's glance.

  The Leader was on it at once. "You know the outcast. Who are you?"

  "I'm Bale of the Seal Clan," Bale said proudly.

  "And I'm Renn of the Raven Clan. I'm Fin-Kedinn's brother's daughter. Dyrati knows me."

  Dyrati folded her arms and said not a word.

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  Renn showed them her wrist-guard. "See this? It's greenstone. Fin-Kedinn made it for me in the Otter way, which he learned when he lived with your clan." An old man lifted rheumy eyes from his bowl. "I remember. An angry young man, but he honored the Lake." "Even if the girl is who she says," said Yolun, "what of the boy? A Seal on the Lake? How can that be right?" "He has the waterskill," Renn said quickly. "And look at the reeds tattooed on his arms." Bale's tattoos were of seaweed, but he had the sense to keep quiet.

  "None of this matters!" exclaimed Yolun. "You all saw how they started when I mentioned the outcast!"

  The Leader searched Bale's face. "Do you know the outcast?"

  Bale lifted his chin. "Yes. But that's no crime."

  "Helping him is," snarled Yolun. Bale tensed.

  "You see that?" cried Yolun. "They're in league with him; that makes them outcast too! Ananda, we must kill them, or the troubles will get worse!" "No!" protested Renn. "We have nothing to do with your troubles. But--but I do know who's causing them."

  "How can you know? Why are you here?" Ananda leaned closer. She had strange, gray-green eyes that

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  seemed to hold the light of the Lake.

  Renn's heart began to race. If she lied, the Leader would know it. If she admitted their purpose ...

  "The evils you speak of," Renn said carefully, "the failed catch, the biting demons--these will spread to the Forest if they're not stopped." She paused. "There's a SoulEater on the Lake. That's why this is happening. That's why we've come." There was stillness in the shelter. The only sounds were the sputter of rushlights and the splash of water far below.

  "She's lying," said Yolun. "A Soul-Eater? Where's the proof?"

  The Leader never took her eyes off Renn. "She speaks the truth," she said at last. "But not the whole truth." She gave a curt nod. "The Mage will uncover the rest." 166

  NINETEEN

  "Say nothing," Renn whispered to Bale as Yolun pushed them along a walkway wreathed in smoke. Bale bent his head to hers. "You heard Ananda. Their Mage will find out the truth. How do we stop him?"

  "Keep your thoughts away from Torak," she replied. "Fix your mind on the strongest feeling you know. Anger. Hatred. Grief."

  He frowned. "Those are all bad."

  The smoke parted, and they found themselves on a round platform on which stood a small reed shelter. The doorway was edged with the teeth of an enormous pike. 167

  Above it swam an otter, beautifully carved in gleaming alder wood.

  Yolun forced them to their knees, and Ananda motioned them to enter. Filled with misgiving, they crawled inside.

  Renn caught the dank smell of reeds, the splash and gurgle of the Lake. Through gaps in the floor, its restless glimmer rippled over the walls. She heard Bale's sharp intake of breath. Then she saw why.

  Two children sat cross-legged in the gloom. Their heads were bowed, their pale hair pooled on the floor. Both wore sleeveless tunics of silver fish-skin, sewn with strips of green-stained hide in a pattern of waving reeds. Twins, thought Renn. Dread stole through her. First the twin fawns, then the two-headed fish. Now this. What did it mean?

  Ananda and Yolun forced her and Bale lower, then touched their own foreheads to the floor. "Mage," they said.

  As one, the twins raised their heads.

  Their hair was the greenish gold of mildewed reeds, and their skin had the glistening pallor of the newly drowned. The boy's eyes were bright with waterlight, but the girl's were a misty, sightless white. "She sees the world of the spirit," said Yolun with reverence.

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  "How can this be?" said Bale. "They can't be more than ten summers old."

  The boy's lips drew back from pointed gray teeth. "Age has no meaning," he said in a thin, piping voice. "We are the spirit reborn. We are the Mage." Renn felt a shiver run down her spine.

  "We were here at the Beginning," said the boy. "We saw the Great Flood wash the land clean. We saw the Lake become."

  The blind girl moaned. The boy's face tightened in distress. "But now evil dishonors the Lake! The terror comes in the night!" Ananda spoke. "Mage, these strangers admit to knowing the outcast who took the sacred clay." "The outcast didn't take it," said the boy. "He caused it to be taken." "But Mage," said Yolun, "it's the same thing." "No," said the boy. "Then tell us," said Ananda. "Why have they come? What should we do with them?"

  The blind girl put her hand on her twin's knee, and he nodded as if she'd spoken. "We will make them tell." He gave a sharp gray smile. "We will ride with the spirits on the voice of diverbird and reed. We will draw out the truth." Then to Yolun, "Shut in the dark." Yolun untied a rolled-up mat, covering the doorway.

  Renn felt trapped. If these weird children

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  discovered that they wanted to help Torak--if they reallycouldsee her thoughts ...

  In the gloom, she saw the boy take a pouch made from the skin of a whole salmon. From its jaws he drew a segment of reed, which he slit with his thumbnail. Softly he blew through the slit, and the shelter filled with the wavering cry of the diverbird.

  Now the girl withdrew a long loop of twisted sedge and wove it between her fingers. Renn saw patterns form: a fishing net, a boat, a tiny Death Platform. Her thoughts began to unravel. She shook herself awake.

  "Soft, soft," whispered the boy. "It comes."

  First they heard it, swooshing and gurgling into the shelter. Then they felt it: water swirling around their legs.

  Renn gave a start. Bale shifted in alarm.

  "Don't move," warned the boy.

  Now Renn felt the slippery coldness of waterweed winding about her. She glanced down. The shelter was dry. And yet-she felt it:waterweed coiling about her legs, her waist, her arms. She struggled. She couldn't move. She could only watch as the blind girl reached both hands toward Bale. He tried to pull away, but the unseen waterweed held him fast.

  The tips of the girl's fingers were white and

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  puckered, as if they'd been too long in the water. Like minnows they flickered over his face, tracing the line of his jaw, the muscles of his throat.

  The blind girl opened her mouth, and her voice was as the rushing of waves drawing back over shingle. "Your brother is better now," she murmured. "Death healed his pain." Bale gasped.

  The white fingers darted to the nape of his neck-- and she drew back with a moan. "Ah! You must use your time well!"

  She released him--and Bale bowed his head, breathing hard.

  Renn braced herself as the blind girl turned to her. Shutting her eyes, Renn felt a fluttering on her face, soft and chill as the touch of a frog. She tried to turn her mind from Torak, but the thin fingers reached into her thoughts and pulled him to the
surface, so that he wasallshe could think of. She saw him not as she'd seen him last, huddled in the willow thicket, but on a day in spring when they'd been hunting. He was down on one knee, examining the bitten-off end of a hazel twig. His dark hair flopped in his eyes, and his face wore the rapt expression it always did when he was tracking. He caught her watching and flashed one of his rare, wolfish grins.

  The blind child reached for the image.

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  With all her strength, Renn thrust the memory down deep.

  "Ah," said the blind girl, "this one is strong!"

  Her fingers flitted to Renn's wrists, lingering on the zigzag tattoos. "A battle rages within her," she whispered. "She must take care, or it will tear her apart." Again an image of Torak rose in Renn's mind, but this time he stood on a black shore, and his face was so savage that she hardly knew him. Again the cold fingers groped for the image.

  With a huge effort of will, Renn pushed Torak away and fixed her thoughts on the Viper Mage. She breathed on the spark of hatred that slept in her heart, and it flared into life: a hot, bright flame. She fixed her mind on that. The blind child sighed.

  Renn shuddered and opened her eyes.

  Ananda spoke in hushed tones. "What of the outcast? Are they in league with him?" "No," murmured the blind girl. "But they are bound to him. He by the bone, she by the heart." Ananda frowned. "There's no crime in that. We'll have to send them back to the Forest." "No!" cried the twins together. "The Lake has need of them! The boy's strength, the girl's power! They are needed to fight the terror that comes in the night!" 172

  The girl turned her misty eyes on Renn. "You know this terror. You have power to fight it, yet you're afraid. Why? Why do you fear your power?" Yolun stared at Renn. "Are you a Mage too?"

  She shook her head.

  "Tell. Tell," urged the twins.

  For a third time, Renn felt the girl probing her thoughts, delving even deeper, seeking her most closely guarded secrets.

  No! she screamed in her head. She fought, but the waterweed held her fast.

  In desperation, she breathed life once again into that tiny flame of hatred. It brightened--engulfed the shelter in fire ...

  The blind girl cried out.

  The boy fell back.

  Renn felt the waterweed snap and slither away.

  Wearily, the boy sat up. "They may pass freely. Give them clothes and food fit for the Lake and send them east."

  Yolun sprang to his feet. "No! This can't be!"

  "But Mage!" cried Ananda. "Are you sure?"

  "We see them traveling east," panted the boy. "East to the ice river. She will use her power. He will help her. They will find what they seek." "No!" protested Yolun.

  "Let them go," ordered the boy. "If they do wrong,

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  the Lake will take them, and you will find their bones rolling in the Bay of Lost Things."

  Yolun looked thunderous, Ananda bewildered.

  Trembling, Renn crawled for the mouth of the shelter. Suddenly the blind girl seized her wrists. Renn tried to pull away, but the bony fingers were strong. "Beware the cold red fire," breathed the girl. "Beware the Lake that kills!"

  Renn wrenched herself free and stumbled from the shelter.

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  TWENTY

  Why are they letting us go?" said Bale. "It's too easy; I don't like it." Renn didn't answer. The encounter with the twins had left her drained, and terrified of what they might have seen in her thoughts.

  She and Bale were back in the main shelter, where Ananda had left them. Yolun peered in and jerked his head at Bale. "Out," he growled. "I'm to give you supplies and Lake-worthy clothes." Renn made to follow, but he stopped her. "Not you! A woman will see to you!" Renn soon discovered that Yolun wasn't the only one

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  who hated seeing them freed. When Dyrati brought her new clothes, she refused to meet her eyes, and dumped the clothes on the mat.

  "You won't be needing your buckskins," she said sullenly. "Too heavy when wet, too stiff when dry. Put these on." She indicated a pair of calf-length leggings of soft elk hide and a sleeveless jerkin of finely woven sedge. "You'll have to sew on your clan-creature feathers yourself."

  In uncomfortable silence, Renn changed her clothes and cut off her clan-creature feathers to sew on later. When she tried to thank Dyrati, the older girl made for the door. "Dyrati?" said Renn. "What have I done?"

  Dyrati's mouth tightened. "As if you didn't know. You might have fooled our Mage, but you can't fool me."

  "What do you mean?"

  Dyrati turned on her and made the sign of the hand. "Stay away! I've told them what you are! I've told them what we used to whisper behind your back. You with your black, black eyes and your dreams that come true! You're bad luck. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows that whoever gets close to you comes to harm." Renn felt sick. "That's not true." "You know it is! Your brother. Your father. Torak. Someone should warn that Seal boy before it's too late!" 176 Then she was gone, leaving Renn on her own.

  She was shaken. What if Dyrati was right?

  No! she told herself. Dyrati's just a spiteful girl who's never liked you.

  The trouble was, nobody did like her much. They tolerated her because she was Fin-Kedinn's bone kin, but they were scared of her talent for Magecraft. Misery welled up inside her, and she longed for Torak. Only Torak had ever been her friend.

  On the walkway she found Bale, who now wore elkhide leggings and a jerkin of silvery fish-skin. "Are you all right?" he asked when he saw her face. "No," she snapped.

  He raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

  Watched by Ananda and a cluster of silent Otters, they made their way toward the hatch, then climbed down the rope ladder and into the skinboat. "Our gear's all stowed," said Bale as he untied the moorings and pushed off. "Let's go before they change their minds."

  The Lake was treacherous with hidden currents, and the skinboat bucked wildly. Several times Renn nearly fell out.

  "It doesn't like fresh water," said Bale, excusing his beloved craft's poor performance. "It's my fault. It sits much lower than in the Sea; I'm not used to that." 177

  Huddled behind him, Renn was soon soaked, despite the beaver-hide mantle she'd found in one of the packs. She felt like a burden. Bale was much stronger and better at skinboating, and when she did try to help, she ended up clashing paddles with his. Every so often, she made herself feel useful by taking out her grouse-bone whistle and calling for Wolf. But she never got an answer, and that only made things worse. Dread settled inside her when she thought of what lay ahead.She will use her power,the Otter Mage had said. But Renn didn't want to use her power, not ever.

  They pitched camp for the night in a sheltered bay. Their Forest food had run out, but the Otters had provisioned them with salmon-skins of roasted reed pollen, so they made a cheerless gruel. Bale seemed preoccupied. When they'd eaten, he said, "What did the Otter Mage mean when she said you're afraid of your power?"

  Renn braced herself.

  "She meant Magecraft, didn't she?" When she didn't answer, he said, "If we can't find Torak, it might be the only way. You have the skill. Why not use it?" "That's easy for you to say," she muttered.

  "But for Torak. You'd do it for Torak?"

  She made no reply.

  "What are you afraid of?"

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  "I'm not afraid!"

  After that, they didn't speak. Bale upended the skinboat on shore-sticks and covered it with pine boughs for a shelter, then rolled himself in his beaver-fur mantle and turned his back on her. It was a long time before Renn got to sleep.

  They paddled east throughout the next day, but saw no sign of Torak. Renn had no sense that they were getting closer to him--but they were getting closer to something. The dread inside her grew worse.

  As the sun began to sink, they were buffeted by a strong east wind, and Bale had to work hard to keep them moving forward. Then, as they rounded an island, Renn felt a chill on her face, and ther
e it was: the relentless glare of the ice river. The dread in her belly hardened to stone. Somewhere out there, her father had found his death.

  Bale twisted to face her. "This doesn't feel right. Why would he go there? There's no prey, nothing!"

  "The Otter Mage said we would find what we sought in the east." But Renn knew better than most that the prophecies of Mages are tricky things, and can have many different meanings.

  As they paddled nearer, the chill became a freezing blast, and the ice turned blue. Renn craned her neck at the shining cliffs which towered overhead. She heard the trickle of meltwater, but she couldn't see it. No falls 179

  tumbling from the cliffs, just that dazzling blue ice.

  "We're too close," said Bale. "We'd better turn back, make camp at that bay we passed. We've come as far east as we can."

  In her sleep that night, Renn saw Torak. He crouched on a beach of black sand, his clothes in tatters, his face wild and hopeless as he lashed out with a flaming torch-lashed out at Wolf. Renn gasped--and woke. Bale was gone. Emerging from the shelter, she saw him watching two reed boats putting out from their bay. "I had a dream," she told him. "Torak's worse; he can't last much longer."

  Bale nodded grimly. "Trouble is, he's a long way away."

  "How do you know?"

  He pointed to the boats. "They've been out here looking for fish for the past five days, so they didn't know who we were. They were helpful. Told me what the others kept from us. Someone found Torak's bow in the reed-bed."

  "The reed-bed?" Renn was aghast.

  "Near the Island of the Hidden People. The Otter Mage sent us the wrong way." He punched his palm. "Ah, Renn, we were so close! If only we'd known, we might have found him by now." 180

  "But to send us the wrong way--why?"

  "What does that matter? We're farther away than ever. And if you're right, he's running out of time."

  She thought quickly. "How long will it take us to get there?"

  "As the raven flies, maybe a day. By skinboat, with all these islands in between? Two days, maybe three."