“He was sure,” Palatan growled, “that Chepiś could help Tokela.”
“He’s wrong!”
“Maybe he is, my Dancer. Maybe he isn’t. What matters is we were right, you and I. What we felt on the plain. The Chepiś aren’t making small incursions or trading forays; they’re sending groups of their own all over thisLand. They’ve broken truce. They’re hunting Tokela.” Forest-hued eyes slid to Anahli. “And maybe you as well, daughter.”
Aylaniś faltered in her motions, unrolled the blanket just that far then snugged it close. Rising, she placed it in a hanging net. “What will Lapis Council do?”
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t come, can I?” Anahli said, downing the rest of her bread.
“N’da. You haven’t been accepted in Lapis, yet.”
She was beginning to understand some of what Tokela felt.
If they don’t accept us, oathbrother, we’ll make our own Clan. Somehow.
“AI, TOKELA, that smells wonderful.”
Dawn was in full regalia, finger-painting Sky all gilt and copper. Smoke lifted a misty scrim upwards and between as roiled, sated, beneath a steaming basket.
Sated indeed. Tokela wondered if he would ever get used to the shivery wonder that clenched his heart whenever he realised he himself had put that indolence into his playmate’s voice. Perhaps such things should never be taken for granted—or perhaps he was all too new to the courting. Raising his head from where he knelt beside the hot rocks, he let wonder trace itself into a small smile as Našobok stretched, like a waking lion.
“Stew made from the grain and dried meat in our pouches.” Tokela leaned forwards, gave the small basket another stir with his knife. “I watered Lioness, too.” He jerked his chin towards their mount, nibbling here and there to top off the handful of dates he’d found in another pouch.
“Enough small things make a feast. Lioness, you say?”
“She was brave enough to earn the name during Moons passage.”
“Hunh.” Našobok grinned, then rubbed hands over his sleep-scrunched face. “You should have woken me. How long have you been awake?”
Tokela shrugged, unsure he’d means to describe what had kept him awake. The release; not just after the rutting but from what had happened before. The utter, blissful silence that remained, long after the Elementals had burned through him. And in the silence, the ability to contemplate what else had burned through him. Answers, winnowed from Stars…
Winnowing. It gave him a shiver, and he shrugged the blanket closer about his shoulders. Instead he motioned a spear’s throw away, where scavenger birds were skirmishing over the bodies from lastdark’s stand. “The meat was already turning with the heat, so I left it. Instead I used some of your leaf to give our foes due honour whilst retrieving our arrows. But I used sand to clean the points; we’ve only the one skin of water remaining.”
“I hadn’t planned on so many things going wrong, and…” Našobok trailed off. The subject matter was less than comfortable.
Tokela also fell silent.
Then: “Našo—”
“Toke—”
Their voices met and collided, broke into a short, shared laugh. Našobok scooted closer and brought his fist to lips then breast, gestured outward: Say what is in your heart.
Easy enough to ask, not so to do. Tokela tried to find talk, finally settled on the one thing that did come more readily into voice.
“Do you think they would help me?”
Našobok frowned. “I never said the tall ones would help—”
“Not Chepiś.” A shudder. “After what I felt lastdark… they don’t want to help, believe me. I mean the duskLands shamans.”
The frown deepened, and Tokela continued, quickly, “It is what they call themselves amongst themselves, a’io?”
“How can you know what…?” Starting in confusion, it trailed away.
“Lastdark, I touched Fire, and he was there, just for a few breaths.”
“He?”
“Alekšu. Palatan.”
Našobok’s lips formed the latter.
“Fire pulled him in to help me, lastdark. But in the end he… retreated.”
The storm-hued eyes flickered, lowered.
They have an oath, the Wolf and his brother Warrior, one that reaches far beyond lovemates, Tokela reminded himself. Yet, he knows something! He knows! clamoured fiercer.
“Anahli was with him, and…” Tokela hesitated as Našobok frowned. Of course, he didn’t know. Couldn’t know; he’d been downRiver.
So Tokela told him what had happened. All of it.
“You… wakened Anahli.” It was a dry whisper, Našobok’s eyes lighting as he met Tokela’s gaze. “Do you realise what this means? If you can waken powers long thought dead… ai, Star Eyes, no wonder they hunt you.”
“It wasn’t just Palatan. Not just Anahli. There were more… more shamanKin. I… I felt them, couldn’t help but have done. In my heart, a presence treading upon Spirit’s hem, like how River fills me. But it was with voices, instead of an Elemental’s silent not-talk. Not many, but…” Tokela paused, then whispered, a savour upon his tongue. “They were there. That’s why Anahli is with them. With her sire, after she told me to stay clear, else he might rip from me what is rightfully mine… Anahli is there, and her Power bides with her.”
Našobok had lowered his eyes.
“Našobok, please believe me.”
“I believe you.” It was wooden.
“All our lives we’ve been told: to manipulate the Elementals is forbidden. To be possessed of one is unthinkable. Inhya wanted to send me to Alekšu, because she think he—”
“Cures the possessed or proclaims them incurable.” Našobok finished, but still his eyes remained downcast. “Chogah said I was incurable. She was glad to make of me outcast. I was glad, too, in the end.”
“But now Palatan is Alekšu, and what becomes of those who have been… dispossessed? They never answer that, do they?—but I Saw it. They bide there, in secret, with others. There are other Shapers!”
“Tokela, there are no more Shapers. Save Chepiś.”
“And me.” He couldn’t help the waver of his voice, nor the bitter edge.
Našobok’s gaze rose, startled.
“So, those who have kept Grandmother protected since Winnowing are named Shaman. Not Shaper. And it’s different, isn’t it?”
Those storm-hued eyes widened, then narrowed. Gauging.
“Different because Winnowing was an evil time.” Tokela leaned forwards, stirred at the stew again, heard Fire whispering, sated. “Chepiś twisted Grandmother,
