'Mine,' said the old najd, and the little bird skull grinned at him. 'It is what I have been needing. Just as you have been needing this.' He extended his hand with the tiny wolf to Kerlew. The wolf sat alertly, his tail swept neatly around his forepaws. His little black eyes were bright as he looked up into Kerlew's face. Kerlew's heart howled for the wolf. He did not need to think. He dropped the little owl skull into the old najd's hand.
And was suddenly glad to be rid of it. Then the old najd's hand tipped. But the tiny wolf scrabbled his claws against the old najd's hand and would not leap to Kerlew.
The old najd looked suddenly troubled. He righted his hand and the tiny wolf once more sat flat in it. The old najd looked at Kerlew with his round black eyes. 'Something is wrong here,' he said gravely. 'Something is very wrong.' He tilted his head toward the tiny wolf, listening. Then he straightened to regard Kerlew stonily. 'You are not herdfolk.'
A coldness swept Kerlew that made the hot sting of tears a sharp pain. The tiny wolf in the najd's hand curled up, swept his tail over his nose and closed his eyes. Shut Kerlew out. He would have spoken, forgetting Carp's warning, if he could have thought of words. He could only stare mutely into the najd's bottomless eyes.
'Ah.' The old najd nodded somberly. 'Well, let us see what is wrong. Let us see why you are not herdfolk.' He closed his hand into a knot around the tiny wolf, and gestured to Kerlew's spread talismans.
'Ah. See this?' The bony finger that pointed at the blade fragment had a long yellow nail. It swept suddenly across the arc of the power items. 'See here?' The wolverine tooth. 'And see.' To the Knife. 'And at last.' The amber. 'It is all very plain.'
Kerlew lifted eyes to the old najd, silently begging him to explain. He put a cautioning finger against his lips. 'Listen. It is plain. This,' a finger tapped the knife fragment, 'is a debt. This,' the Knife, 'will pay it. The one who holds the knife will draw the wolverine's teeth. The stone is on the blood, and the blood is on the stone. And Wolf will bring it all together.' The old najd nodded with immense satisfaction.
Then he looked very stern. 'But you are not herdfolk. You have no Wolf, nor do you belong to Wolf. You know why. When you took on the debt of the Knife, you took on a duty to the herdfolk. You have not kept it. You have let harm walk boldly among them.
What he does is wrong. Reindeer, who watches over the herdfolk, who feeds and clothes them, is very angry with him. He will demand an accounting. And you. You must arm the Wolf and destroy the Wolverine. I will free what is mine. But you must do the rest, little najd.' He leaned very close to Kerlew.
'I could whisper a word to my little wolf. I could tell him that to go with you would be to go with me. That you are to be the najd of the herdfolk. That it is right for you to hold the tokens of the herdfolk in your hands. Ah, but then, but then if you did not keep your duty ... Wolf would tear your throat out!'
The old najd had leaned ever closer as he spoke, and on the last words his mouth elongated into a snarling muzzle that opened wide and his canines flashed long and white before Kerlew's face. Kerlew tightened his belly muscles but did not draw back.
The old najd sat back suddenly and laughed softly. He pulled his lips down over his teeth and resumed his own face. 'Yes, yes. You are the Wolf's, yes. But he will not be yours until you are herdfolk. Will you be herdfolk?'
Kerlew hesitated fractionally before bobbing a nod. He would have offered the blood warm from his body to hold Wolf in his hand. His chest heaved with the depth of his wanting.
'Ah. Then. Keep the bargain of the Knife. That is all. She who you freed left a place empty, a task unfinished. Finish the task and take the place. Free your people of that which plagues them. Will you do this?'
Again Kerlew nodded. The old najd copied him. 'Good. They have been alone long, and I have suffered with their pain. You take a burden from me. Here.' He turned slightly aside from Kerlew, lifted the wolf to his lips, and whispered over him. Then he reached suddenly to grip Kerlew's wrist with fingers as cold and hard as bone. He dragged the boy's hand toward him, pinched his thin wrist until his coiled fingers opened.
And dropped Wolf into his palm. Kerlew looked down on the coiled figure.
'He sleeps,' the old najd whispered. 'But he is with you. Listen. Once you have earned him, he will help you. He will make a proper cover for the drum. Then, when you are alone, you can drum for him and he will dance for you. But, first!' A cautionary finger in Kerlew's face. 'First, you must listen and obey. This is what you must do to earn him.'
The old najd paused suddenly, listening. His face became very grave and sad. 'To the first who comes, you must say nothing. NOTHING! This will be hard, and your pain will be great. But Wolf will drink the blood of your pain, and be satisfied. It is the beginning of being herdfolk. This you do for Wolf.' He nodded to himself. 'To the second one who comes, give this.' The owl's skull rustled icy against his palm. 'Say, 'Be free!' Then that debt is paid.' His expression softened. 'This you do for me.'
The old najd smiled suddenly, black lips writhing back from white teeth. 'Then comes Wolf. Yes, Wolf comes and you place your hand between his eyes. And go with him, to be najd of the herdfolk, and to pay your last debt. That, you do for yourself.' The old najd leaned back with a sigh of deep contentment. 'Long have I waited for you.
Long and long. Now you are here. And I can rest. Gather your things and come. Take them all, now. All are properly yours.'
Kerlew picked up his power objects, dropping each carefully into his pouch. Then he watched the old najd place each of his in a basket. The bright bundled feathers and the dyed cubes of bone in red and blue; a string of fat ivory teeth; the black-bladed knife and a talley of calf-ear bits. He put the lid on the basket and tucked his drum under his arm. The owl skull Kerlew kept in his hand. 'Come now,' the old najd said. He rose with a crackling of knee bones. 'We cannot keep her waiting.' Kerlew put his hand in the najd's bony one and they stepped into darkness. And out again.
The bright light of the day blinded him. Tears ran and rainbow colors washed over the village below. Kerlew swayed on the ledge, feeling the fresh winds of the high place brush past him. He was back. He was back and alive. But what of his spirit guardian?
What of a vision? He turned to the old najd at his side.
'Comes the first,' breathed the najd.
Kerlew looked up. Carp stood before him, smiling, showing the familiar blackness between his teeth. Then the blackness went blue as Carp rippled in the wind. Kerlew recoiled in surprise. 'Well, apprentice?' Carp demanded in an airy voice. 'Have you no word of welcome for me?' He leaned over Kerlew, smiling insubstantially. 'Are you not glad to see me? I have decided to come with you, to guide you to the spirit world. There I will show you many wonders and gift you with many powers. Give me greeting, take my hand, and we will go together.'
Kerlew sat still, frozen with fear. Confusion milled through his mind. The bone najd had told him not to speak to the first one. Carp had told him, many times, that he must find his own path to the spirit world, and enter alone. Something was wrong here, something chilling and evil.
'Do not be afraid, little apprentice.' Carp's words were warm and dripping, rich as fresh liver. They reached inside Kerlew, pulled at him. He bowed over his knees with the pain of resisting them.
The bone najd spoke coldly. 'There is no place for you here, forest najd. And Kerlew will not take your place nor give you his. Walk the path you have chosen.'
Carp suddenly went flat and snarling, his back rippling as angrily as his spirit beast.
His growl was the growl of Wolverine enraged. His teeth were sharp and white as he leaned forward and sank them into Kerlew's clenched fist. The blood ran red between his fingers, and the tiny wolf within his fist stirred and growled. Kerlew's mouth stretched wide in soundless agony. Blackness closed in on him. He felt Wolverine worrying his hand from his wrist, felt the parting snap.
'Go back.' The bone najd lifted his drum-claw. 'Go back and finish dying, forest najd.'
There was a sound like an old tent splitting in the wind. The pain stopped. Kerlew opened his eyes. His hand was on the end of his wrist, unmarked. He felt Wolf stir within it. Carp stood just off the edge of the ledge, looking suddenly mournful. 'A last word,' he begged, and it was the voice of the tired old man Kerlew knew.
'No.' The bone najd forbade it, and Carp suddenly tattered to pieces and was swept away on the wind. Something ripped out of Kerlew and went with him, like a hook tearing free of his flesh. He hunched over his knees, feeling his pain run hot down his face. He did not know how many lifetimes it lasted. When he could lift his head, the day was blue and clear before him. He looked down on the tiny herdfolk village below him. Below him, their lives went on. Folk clustered and shouted thinly by the reindeer pens, children raced between the tents, the herd gazed
