But on this day, there it was. It is time.
Sanda-eh ran to Lanta-eh and held her hand. Lanta-eh leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Gunta, Sanda-eh.”
“Gunta,” Sanda-eh whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”
“Time for what?” Alex asked. “The planting is already done. The team is back from the first karak-ta raid since the zisla-ta invaded us, and the hunting has been good. What is it time for?”
“To finish things.”
Again, Alex was caught flat-footed. If there was anything he was good at, it was finishing things. The village of Denta-ah was no more because of him, and the city of Lasta-ah was forever scarred, their last two leaders dead at his hands.
Lanta-eh saw the confusion etched on Alex’s face and said, “I know how to stop our mothers from dying, but I will need your help.”
“Why now?” Alex asked, skipping over the question that was really in the front of his mind: Why not four years ago?
“Because it is time. All the days before, it was not time. Now it is.”
Alex narrowed his eyes at her, but said, “You know you never need to ask. Just tell me what you need, and I will do it.”
“It is a big project.”
Alex looked at Sanda-eh and Monda-ak. “Are we up for a big project?”
“Yes!” Sanda-eh shouted, jumping up and down. Monda-ak woofed his support.
Alex nodded at Sanda-eh and said, “She’s the boss. What do you need from me?”
“First, we need to take a hike.”
Ten minutes later, Alex had thrown together a pack with food and necessities for a day hike and they were out in the misting, early-spring weather. The four of them walked to the forest, turned north, and hiked to the path that led east. This was the path that Alex had traveled so often. The first time had been when Sekun-ak had sent him on a simple quest to retrieve a dinner plate. That quest had been complicated by the presence of a ten-foot rattlesnake.
Alex couldn’t help but wonder what factor would complicate this quest. Things were never easy.
This was also the path to Danta-ah. When Alex had first followed this trail, it hadn’t been much more than an animal trail that wound through the forest. Now, there was a regular stream of visitors moving between Rinta-ah, Danta-ah, and Winten-ah, and the trail was much more clearly marked.
“Progress is coming to Kragdon-ah,” Alex noted to Lanta-eh, pointing at the smooth, straight trail.
“Another of those things that cannot be stopped. But it can be reset, started over. You’ve seen that, haven’t you? These things are cyclical, an eternal snake eating its own tail.”
“You are feeling philosophical today.”
“I am happy today. Do you remember a few years ago,” she glanced at Sanda-eh, “when I told you it was like I was standing on a tall hill, looking out over valleys and plateaus?”
“I do.”
“We are starting to climb up to that last plateau now, and that is a relief. I’m tired.”
“You are far too young to be tired like that.”
As they walked, Sanda-eh’s head had moved back and forth between Alex and Lanta-eh, like she was watching a tennis match where she didn’t understand the rules. She abandoned that and chased after Monda-ak, who was following a scent trail up ahead of them.
Eventually, they came to the river where Alex had battled the giant rattlesnake to a draw.
“This is it,” Lanta-eh said.
Alex looked around. All was peaceful.
“What do we need to do here?”
Lanta-eh slipped her moccasins off and waded a few feet out into the gently running river. She looked into the water, searching for something. She bent, wrestled with something heavy, then stood back up with a heavy rock in her hand.
“This is what we need.”
“Great! Good job. Let’s go home.”
Lanta-eh gave him a cross look. Alex was sure no one had given him a look like that since Senta-eh had died.
“We need many of these. Many.”
“How many? That looks pretty heavy.”
“Many. Whatever you’re thinking right now, more than that.”
“You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”
“Not yet. Soon.”
“FINE,” ALEX SAID. HE and Sanda-eh also shucked off their mocs and waded into the water. Sanda-eh splashed joyfully in the water, seemingly immune to the cold. Alex reached down and picked up another rock, about the same size and shape as the one Lanta-eh had picked, and tossed it onto the shore.
“No. Not that one. I am sorry, but I have to pick the rocks.”
Alex waded out of the water and said, “Then what can I do?”
“I will toss you the rocks. Can you make a pile of them?”
Alex didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the first rock and examined it. It was just a rock, though Alex noted there were flecks of crystals distributed throughout.
Alex held the rock as though it was fine china and delicately set it to the side of the path.
“Senta-eh always said you thought you were funny.”
“Mama,” Sanda-eh, said. “Mama.”
“Yes, she was your mama,” Lanta-eh said. “Do you want me to tell you a story about her while I work?”
“Yes!”
Lanta-eh looked up at the cloudy sky, as if trying to decide what story to tell. Sanda-eh had heard all of her stories about her mother dozens of times, but that never mattered. In fact, the little one seemed to relish saying the last few lines of the story along with her.
“Sounds like we’re going to be here for a while,” Alex said.
While Lanta-eh continued to scour the riverbed for particular stones and throw them onto the bank, he gathered wood for a fire. It wasn’t a cold day, but it was cool, and after being waist deep in the moving water, he knew they would need to warm up soon enough.
Lanta-eh worked tirelessly. As she moved away from the bank, she handed some of the smaller rocks to Sanda-eh, who happily worked
