Like fog creeping over River’s lowlands—yet in the same breath nothing like—it crept forwards. Intent.
“We have to go,” Tokela said. “They know where we are.”
“HERE? THE Chepiś dare to hunt across our Lands?”
“We were fools to think they would honour truce.”
“The reports have come, more and more, of their transgressions. A visit here, a hunting party there, and Matwau traders accompany them—”
“Matwau traders! Traitors, more like!”
“A curse upon Matwau! I’m more worried about what Chepiś want!”
“But taking slaves! Sending their like into our territory, hunting our People?”
“What is their plan?”
“Who can know the heart of such creatures? If they honoured Grandmother they wouldn’t have crawled over her, infecting her like body insects—”
“Enough!” Lomuyiho’s face was lined with the wisdom of many Hoops walked, her eyes clouded as milk. Still, she eyed up her companions one by one, “seeing” them plain. “To chatter like fearful burrow-pups serves us nothing!” Tucking further into her blanket, she held out weathered hands to Fire and prompted, “Alekšu. You didn’t say whether you sensed the tall ones through your co-tenant, or through the ehšehklan.”
An ugly, midLander name, meaning amongst other things, “half-breed”. One Palatan should protest. But truth had stood him down, out there beneath the mountains and on the plain. He had Seen into young Tokela’s heart, Sensed the Void-within-Stars swirling within. The Power that Chepiś had stolen long ago. The Power only they could wield.
“The tall ones look for him,” Palatan admitted. “We knew this might happen. It’s why I asked to bring him here.”
“And it’s why he cannot be allowed here!” another growled. He was a brace of summerings Palatan’s younger—late come to his co-tenant, and gifted, but still uneasy.
So few, Palatan mused, looking over the small group that had gathered in the caverns, hearthFire flickering over their faces. Lapis Council had once filled this cavern, so Lumiyiho taleKeeper claimed. Thisnow gathered only nine including himself, with fewer born each turning of Hoop.
Their society had begun in secrecy; at this rate they well could end in extinction.
“You show disrespect,” chided Lomuhiyo, and several others murmured agreement.
“Yet he speaks with some truth,” another pointed out. “Bring the ehšehklan here, to our most sacred place? When it’s likely he is a beacon set in our midst to betray us?”
Palatan was glad he’d not allowed Anahli to come. He knew she longed to participate, but… n’da. Not yet.
“His dam broke truce, and wandered the forbidden territories. In consequence the Chepiś bewitched her, Shaped her to hold their seed.”
“That is a lie.” The voice filled a shadowed side alcove and extended into the chamber, low and hoarse and strangely musical.
Palatan’s protest whistled out, muted, between his teeth.
The voice continued. “May the oških’s dam Dance with the ancestors; the Lost One was daughter to my sister. She was born amongst People a’Naisqwyr, not here in horsetalker Lands, but even upon River’s thighs do People mate by choice. The Lost One was overfamiliar with things she shouldn’t have touched, but she did not despoil herself upon any Chepiś creature.”
It was surprising enough that Chogah had agreed to accompany him. But even more surprising was that her silence should be broken in Tokela’s defence.
No doubt she waited, like Weaver in ša’s web, to spin a trick-trap none could yet see.
“You cannot deny the oških has been Shaped,” another protested.
“That,” Chogah drawled, “is obvious. You forget, I knew my sister’s daughter. I touched the child when he was still enwombed. Shaped, a’io—but get of Chepiś?” A derisive snort.
“So he is alien, and presents a danger to us!”
“A half-grown oških? He hasn’t even earned status enough to claim a spouse!”
“Naišwyrh’uq cast him out.”
“Ai, and Naišwyrh’uq is so known for their flexible ways.” Again, Chogah’s sarcasm withered any opposition. “They would cast out a dog if ša showed the least hint of possession. Our own Alekšu has an absent lovemate for whom River’s Spirit showed too much love—it mattered not that he was chieftain-son.”
Leave Našobok out of this. Palatan clenched his teeth as, from the shadows, Chogah slid a glance towards him and smiled. Pretty—and petty.
“Our dawnLands cousins have been damaged by Winnowing,” Lumihiyo’s voice was flat. “As have we all. It’s not ours to judge how others must survive, O’yotalichogah Alekšu tuk.”
Also Alekšu tuk—before Chogah—Lumihiyo remained one of the few who could silence her.
“What possesses Tokela is not half-grown,” Lumiyiho continued. “Our chieftain-daughter was brought back to life by him. The Lost One’s son took River from Anahli, gave Wind to her. Now we have a new member to owlClan.”
“Then was she not Shaped surely as the ehšehklan?” the youngest protested. “Are such things not then forbidden?”
“You speak in absolutes,” Lumihiyo chided. “We do not deal in those here.”
“Yet one thing is absolute,” another elder said. “We must protect. The Shapers must be kept out.”
Silence followed this.
“Are we Lapis Council, or pecked hens?” Chogah added, with a sneer for the youngest though her gaze held to Palatan’s. “Are we shamans who guard the sacred places, medicineKeepers who soothe thisLand’s outraged Spirit? Or cowards and whelps?”
“I wasn’t the one who suggested we shun the oških,” said Palatan into the sudden quiet.
“Neither,” Chogah’s eyes glinted upon him, “was I.”
“WE’RE NEAR it. The Shaper’s well.”
“Not that near.” Našobok frowned, checked his bearings. “I’ve made sure to skirt the cursed place, though even this close should confound any Chepiś. You mean you feel it?”
Tokela nodded. “It’s like… the tickling legs of crawlingKin. You know, when they explore a slick surface? They touch then back away, test then feint forwards.”
The black mare picked an equally dainty and surefooted way across a sandy expanse of small dunes. DownLand’s horizon, wafting in a mix of heat and cloud, would every now and then betray faraway smudges. Not the flat tops of tabled hills, either.
“Trees. Close enough we should find water soon.” Našobok nudged the water skin that held a few remaining swallows. “Perhaps even a River-daughter to bless us.”
“Or more Rain.” Tokela gave the gathering clouds a tiny smile, and Našobok found himself
