Part 49 (1/2)

The tracker eyed her warily. ”What is down there, Wolfwalker? Worlags, bihwadi?”

”Death,” she said harshly. ”Fire and death. They are already wading through it.”

She forced herself back from the cliff. Rishte was growling in her head, clawing at the slitted eyes.

Yellow snapped back at the grey. Her stomach turned. She clenched her fists harder as if that small pain could cut through them both, and the flesh split beneath her nails. Blood began to trickle. She could smell the trees, she could feel the boulders that stubbed her feet, but her human eyes were blind. Nausea rose and choked her. She couldn't see the edge of the cliff anymore. She didn't know her spine stiffened as the slitted gaze cut into her skull. She had never fought back against the creature that claimed her with mother debt, but this time she screamed in her mind.d.a.m.n you, she cried out silently.They were not harming us at that moment. Would it have made us any less their kill?

(Old/new) debt, death-debt and fire . . .

She stumbled and went to her knees, and began vomiting into the moss. A moment later, a strong arm slipped around her body and held her as she retched. Rishte snarled at the Tamrani, but Hunter ignored the wolf. Instead, his other hand pulled her b.l.o.o.d.y hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

He was murmuring something, but she could hear only the tone of his voice. Later, when Payne asked what he'd said, she could only shake her head. All she knew was that Rishte had accepted him. It was the only explanation for the sense of his voice in her head.

Epilogue.

”You've already started your Journey, girl.

You just don't know it yet.”

-Shendren, inTracking the Moons, by Vergi Vendo Nori hovered over the village healer like a hungry boy over dinner. ”Watch that spot there.” She pointed to the st.i.tches on Kettre's scalp. ”It was the deeper part of the gash.”

The healer hid a sigh. ”If you'd step back just a bit, Black Wolf, out of the light?”

”Of course.” She did so, by moving to the healer's other shoulder. It was late, and they were lucky the tiny village had a healer to wake. She moved the lantern to bring the light closer.

”How does it look?” Kettre asked the healer. ”Will I have to part my hair on the side from now on?”

”Hmm.” The grey-haired woman dabbed at the hair that had become clotted into the wound. ”It will scar, but lightly. You did a good job,” she said absently to Nori. ”Not but what I'd expect from the Daughter of Dione.”

Nori shrugged and pointed. ”There was a lot of dirt in there. You might want to irrigate that before putting the dressing back on.”

The healer said mildly, ”Aye, I thought the same.” The woman reached for the syringe. Nori already had it and handed it across. Kettre almost swatted Nori's hand away when the wolfwalker pointed again.

”There, and there.”

The healer bit back an acid comment. Black Wolf had her first bar in healing, and so was essentially an intern, someone to be tolerated and taught as well as possible. The healer understood Nori's worry for her friend, but if the girl didn't step back or go tend some farmer's dnu . . .

Nori couldn't seem to stop herself. ”Don't forget the other edge.”

The healer held her breath for a moment, then let it out before saying, ”It's clean, Black Wolf. There's no sign of infection.” She started to reach for a cloth to dab away the fluids.

”Here.” Nori handed her a double pad. She was ready with the dressing almost before the healer was done. ”She's hard on her head. You'll want to pack it well.”

Kettre rolled her eyes, and the healer said sharply, ”Black Wolf-” The woman broke off. When she spoke again, she said firmly. ”MaDione?”

”Aye, what do you need?” Nori looked quickly down at the tray of instruments and dressings. She thought she'd antic.i.p.ated every move. Perhaps the cotton strips for binding the pad?

”I need for you to wait outside. Now.”

Nori looked up. ”Outside? But-” Her gaze flew to Kettre's face. The other woman raised one brown, sculpted eyebrow at her, and she stared. ”Kettre?”

The woman didn't bother to hide her satisfaction. ”Keyo'bye, Black Wolf.”

”Outside,” the healer repeated firmly. ”Now.” She took up her tweezers again. ”I believe the door is that way, Black Wolf.”

Kettre's brown eyes danced. Deliberately, she ignored Nori. ”So how does it look?” she asked the healer.

”It's healing well,” said the woman. ”You might have a headache for a few more days, but that's normal.

Now let me see your ribs.”

Nori hesitated at the door with her hand on the k.n.o.b, but the healer looked up and jerked a nod sternly outside. As the door was closing behind her, she heard Kettre say, ”One more thing about that gash: just tell me if it's cross-st.i.tch.”

Outside, leftover rain dripped from the old woman's gutters, and the sound was like an interminably slow drum. They had been two days in the forest before they reached the village. Nori had spent both nights stalking six of the Harumen's riding beasts, as well as two of their own. She was dragging with exhaustion by the second dawn, but she had come back with eight dnu on a long-line lead, a bag of washed tubers, a small pack of sour early berries, and a handful of limp, dead woodmice to scramble with eight fragile eggs from a pair of palts that had nested too high on the cliff. The rest of the dnu would filter back to the villages or become badgerbear meat.

They'd been more than lucky, Nori acknowledged. Neither Tamrani had been in good shape by the time the rains. .h.i.t hard. Kettre had been wan as bleached-out silk, but the shallow claw marks in Nori's own back had scabbed cleanly, as had Leanna's neck from the Haruman's knife. Wakje's arm was barely gashed, and Payne had only a bruised hip.

She looked across the road. Fentris was limping out of the general store where he'd bribed the storekeep to break into the latest s.h.i.+pment of clothes for a fanciful elder. The garments might be a bit old in their style, but at least they weren't made of chancloth.

Nori paced irritably, tried to sit, and stood again almost immediately. She was waiting only for word of Ki. With a bit more luck of the moons, Payne would come back with news of the ex-raider and his sons within the hour.

Rishte growled softly from the tree line, and she closed her eyes. His voice was clearer, easier to hear.

The fear and tension, the kills by the cliffs-everything had combined to sharpen them for each other.

There was a . . . brilliance to it, she decided. Like water under a harsh sun. It should be hard and grating, but instead she slid into it and simply felt the grey.

Rider closing in on the town.

That would be Payne. She opened her eyes to watch the end of the street. With five of the moons climbing over the steep roofs, there was light enough to see every paving stone, and plenty of light to identify her brother at a distance when he cantered onto the street.

”I've sent the messages for Ki,” he told her as he reined in.

”What word on the archers he tracked?”

”They dropped out of sight like three stones in the sea.” Payne shook his head. ”Either they know a hidey-hole he doesn't, or someone was covering for them and covering well.”

She nodded. Wora had all but confirmed for her that there were more in the county.

Payne glanced at the clinic. The doors were conspicuously shut, and Kettre was not in sight. ”The healer kicked you out?” he guessed. She scowled, and he hid a grin. ”Serves you right for kibitzing.”

”I wasn't kibitzing.” She made a face. ”I was . . . helping.”

”You helped yourself right out the door.” He looked across at the Tamrani. ”I've arranged for a wagon in the morning. Are they finished packing?”

”Soon enough. If Fentris doesn't stop buying fairly quickly, Uncle Wakje will just wait till the Tamrani turns his back, then toss his pack in the waste pit.”