12

ARAK’JUR

Searching for Ka’Ana’Tyat

Sinari Land

He was fairly certain Ilek’Inari was lost.

Not that he doubted the apprentice’s gift; with Ka’Vos’s help, the shaman and the apprentice had divined the location of the meeting to which they now traveled. But Ilek’Inari had no head for woodcraft. They walked from tree to tree, glade to glade, until the sun rose high and shadows stretched across the forest floor. The Ranasi guardian and his charge would long since have arrived, and Arak’Doren would not be kind to Ilek’Inari when they finally did the same. Just as well. His own good humor had departed some time ago.

“Here, honored guardian, this mark, I have seen it!” Ilek’Inari gestured to a gash in the side of an oak tree, three broad cuts. A bear had hunted here.

“As you say.” He inclined his head out of respect, walking behind as they changed directions again. Ilek’Inari took long strides, shifting the packs he carried from shoulder to shoulder. Perhaps they were getting close at last.

Ka’Vos had declared the signs favorable—no great beasts near Sinari lands—and so Arak’Jur had been sent to accompany the apprentice on the final step of his journey. The Ranasi, their neighbors to the north, would also send a woman to complete the ritual. A fine omen, a chance to demonstrate to their neighbors that the Sinari still held the spirits’ favor.

“Yes, this is it!” Ilek’Inari exclaimed, calling back over his shoulder. “Two more hills and they will be there, where a stream is divided by a white rock.”

He grunted in reply.

They paced up a slope before descending into a narrow valley where, as promised, he heard the rush of running waters. A strange thing, the gift of the shamans. The guardians’ magic was simple, a blessing granted by the spirits of slain great beasts. To see far-off places or glimpses of what-might-be—these were things he did not understand, any more than he understood the secrets of the women’s magic, tied to the third kind of spirits, the spirits of sacred places and the land. Journeys to escort the shamans and the spirit-touched among the women were as close as guardians came to such mysteries.

He smiled, raising a hand in greeting. Oh, he had been right. Arak’Doren was not pleased.

“Brother,” he called to the figures beside the white rock at the center of the stream. “Honored sister.”

Arak’Doren scowled as he rose to his feet, gray-haired and leather-skinned, though he was strong and lean, with no sign of slowing from his age. Ilek’Inari earned a glare when the apprentice tried to make a similar greeting. The woman was not so sour, welcoming them both with a formal bow. He didn’t recognize her, though she was young, scarce older than Llanara, which made her young indeed to be making one of the women’s journeys. The subtleties of the women’s ways were beyond his understanding, but he’d accompanied enough of the neighboring tribeswomen to recognize her youth as exceptional. Arak’Doren spoke to introduce her: Corenna, daughter of Ka’Hinari, the Ranasi shaman.

She was garbed in the women’s ceremonial dress, white fur sewn around cured hides dyed white and bound in a tight wrap, with long skirts to match. Her face was painted white, save for a single blue line running from her hairline to her chin. Leather cords threaded with feathers completed the garb, binding her black hair back in a tight braid.

He and Arak’Doren left their charges to their ritual gifts and tokens, walking a few paces to make their own exchange.

“It is good to see you, brother,” he said. It took a fellow guardian to understand the life they led. It was not an affectation, to name him brother.

“It would have been good to see you yesterday,” Arak’Doren said, but they grasped forearms just the same. “So that’s the new Sinari shaman, then?”

“It is. Ilek’Inari is a good man.”

Arak’Doren grunted, eyeing their charges as Ilek’Inari and Corenna spoke their ritual parts to one another.

“Though,” Arak’Jur added, “he is not the best, when it comes to the wild.”

Arak’Doren laughed. “No, no he is not. Best hope Ka’Vos lives another generation, my friend. This one will have you warding in Hurusi territory when the juna’ren is hiding in your water stores.”

Arak’Jur smiled.

“Watch over Corenna,” Arak’Doren said. “She is precious to the Ranasi.”

“She has my full protection.” This was a sacred trust, between tribes. Ranasi women came to him for their journeys, and Sinari women came to Arak’Doren for theirs. Wars had started over guardians failing their charges. But a successful journey was a thing to celebrate for both tribes.

“These are clouded times,” Arak’Doren said. “It is good for the Sinari to gain another shaman.”

“Yes,” he agreed, cautiously. “Ka’Hinari’s visions have not changed?”

Arak’Doren shook his head. “They have not. We fear what they betoken. Death. Fire.”

“Perhaps this journey will mark an end to such things. The spirits have changed their paths before.”

“I hope it will be so, brother.”

Their charges had finished their ceremony. Seeing it, he embraced his counterpart once more.

“Safe journeys, guardian.”

“To you as well. Blessings, Arak’Jur.”

Once again, Ilek’Inari led the way through the trees. The bear they sought had left sign, back the way they’d come. Yet another omen of the spirits’ favor. His heart had warmed in reverence for the spirits when Corenna revealed Bear would be the totem for their journey. Ilek’Inari’s had, too, he was sure, after being reminded they’d seen bear sign on the way to the meeting.

Corenna kept a good pace for all she wore the long skirts of the women’s ceremonial dress. She answered his questions about the Ranasi with deference, showing proper respect for another tribe’s guardian. It was not her first journey, nor even her first journey outside Ranasi lands; she had ventured into neighboring Olessi land, and had once spent two moons traveling to the lands of the Yanarat, in the icy reaches of the North. A curious woman. She was of an age with Llanara and had already made more journeys than any grandmother of the Sinari. Perhaps he should speak with Ka’Vos about urging the spirit-touched among their women to hone their talents. It was a time for such things, little as they would appreciate wisdom coming from the men.

Like himself, Corenna was unencumbered. It fell to the shaman’s apprentice to carry her provisions on the journey, as well as the implements for the apprentice’s own ritual. Ilek’Inari bore it in good spirits, with an infectious humor that passed the hours in easy conversation.

“Almost, you make me wish the guardians had pilgrimages of their own, honored sister,” Arak’Jur said.

Corenna favored him with a smile. “It is true, guardian. My father saw visions of a new sacred site on Yanarat lands, hidden across an icy channel. I thought Arak’Uro would let me go on alone, but he dove into the ice.”

He boomed a laugh. “Do not underestimate our pride.”

“The Yanarat shaman had no notion the sacred site existed?” Ilek’Inari asked over his shoulder.

“None. My father’s gift is powerful, but the spirits do not reveal everything to the shamans, especially where women’s secrets are concerned.” She smiled. “Yet even the Yanarat women had no knowledge of this place. We were the first to learn its secrets.”

“It was covered over in ice, then?” Ilek’Inari asked.

“It was. Blessings to the guardians for their talents. Arak’Uro made short work of it, with what help I could provide.”

Arak’Jur nodded approval. “A mighty thing, such a well-kept secret of the land.”

“Oh, we were not through to it yet. Tell me, Arak’Jur, have you heard of the sre’ghaus?” When he shook his head no, she went on. “Neither had Arak’Uro. And whatever shrouded the sacred site from the Yanarat shaman, it seemed had hidden the sre’ghaus as well.”

Now he listened with rapt interest. A new great beast, the third such reported in as many turnings of the seasons. Vital for the guardians to share and learn what they could, before the shamans saw a new beast approach the tribe’s lands.

“They are small creatures,” she continued. “Like beetles. But they move together, as if by a single mind. And when slain, they dissemble into mist, then re-form before your eyes.”

“How do you keep them dead?” Ilek’Inari asked.

She shrugged. “We never found the way. Arak’Uro fought them for a time while I completed the ritual, and we left.”

A fine story. He would have to send word to Arak’Uro and plead for wisdom on dealing with these sre’ghaus, spirits send they stayed far away from Sinari lands during his lifetime.

He motioned the other two to silence as they crested the hill. This was the place, a few hours’ walk from where the white rock forked the stream. Ilek’Inari had described his vision, and the cave up ahead—a simple recess into stone—matched it exactly. Inwardly he felt a wave of relief to be spared another long journey. This was not Ka’Ana’Tyat, the sacred place where Corenna and Ilek’Inari would make their communion with the spirits, but it was the first step toward that path. Each time he had visited a sacred place, the woman in his keeping had been tasked with slaying a beast as an offering to the spirits.

Corenna turned to him, expectant.

“Honored sister.” He bowed to her. “This is your task. I will safeguard you, should your magic fail.”

She nodded, striding toward the mouth of the cave, stopping to plant her feet as she faced the opening ahead. Her eyes glazed over, the deep blue of a winter storm, and when she raised her hands the wind began to stir. A breeze at first, then an icy gale. It swept into the cave, a torrent of frost that had no place beneath a clear blue sky. A low roar sounded from within.

She held her arms in place, and the storm continued.

A silhouette appeared, pacing side to side to shelter itself from the buffeting cold. It roared again as it stepped into the light, this time a thunderous echo ringing through the trees. The bear locked its eyes on Corenna, and Arak’Jur watched as the beast lowered its head and charged.

With a smooth motion, Corenna drew one hand back and snapped the other forward. A lance of ice sprang from her fingers, impaling the bear through the crown of its skull. It slumped to the ground, skidding toward her with a crunch as it rolled over the frost that had settled from the storm. The winds faded.

She made a formal bow to the bear, and another to him and Ilek’Inari. Her eyes returned to normal.

“A mighty gift indeed, honored sister,” he said.

“It was well worth the trouble. I hope Arak’Uro agrees. He was shivering for hours after his dip in the ice.”

She stepped back as he laughed, and Ilek’Inari went to his knees, unsheathing his bone knife to pry the bear’s teeth loose from its jaw.

A fine thing. He’d seen such displays before, but never so smoothly done. Arak’Doren spoke true when he said Corenna was precious to the Ranasi. A spirit-touched woman with her strength was a thing not seen in generations. The women’s spirits were generous, it seemed, even as their counterparts whispered to the shamans of dire omens.

When Ilek’Inari had gathered his final materials, they departed the hillside in search of Ka’Ana’Tyat.

Ka’Ana’Tyat. The Birthplace of Visions. Arak’Jur had made the journey three times and never found it in the same place, though it was always on Sinari lands. Each tribe had at least one such sacred site, where the women would go to forge their connections to the spirits of the land, and the shamans first spoke with the spirits of things-to-come. He understood little of the details—it was not his place as guardian to know more than was required. Only that the women and shamans found their power along different paths than the guardians did. What the beast spirits held in common with the women’s and shamans’ spirits was a mystery reserved for wiser men than he.

They traveled for three days.

Passing through the highlands, they made their way down into the thickest parts of the forest, where it covered Sinari land like a fertile blanket. He hunted for their food and Corenna prepared it. Ilek’Inari performed a minor ritual each time they stopped, divining their destination from the whispers of the shamans’ spirits. On they went, until the trees grew so thick they seemed to knot together, walls of wood and branch and vine.

This was the sign. It was always so, near Ka’Ana’Tyat. The land seemed to bend and warp itself into impossible scenes. If he came back this way on the next full moon, he would find it a forest like any other. But for now, they drew near a place of power.

A reverent glow settled on his charges’ faces, Corenna with a practiced grace and Ilek’Inari with nervous excitement. They journeyed inward, past twisted branches and trees seeming to grow through one another, until they came upon a wide clearing at the heart of the wood. A canopy of branches parted to reveal a passageway sculpted from the shadows cast by the long arms of the trees.

Ka’Ana’Tyat.

They stepped forward, and a great roar echoed on the wind.

If the bear they’d slain before had roared, it was a drop of rainwater to the torrential storm they heard now. This was a peal of mighty thunder, a blast of raw power that could shear trees in half from the force of its bellow alone. This was a sound that few had ever heard, and survived.

An una’re.

Somehow it had eluded the visions of Ka’Vos and Ka’Hinari both. The brown bear’s elder brother, una’re struck with a thunderous force that gave truth to the storms behind his roar. Arcing shocks blackened the ground where he ran, his claws dancing with streaks of lightning like fire from the skies. And now he came, crashing through the knotted wood, his keen senses alerted to intruders near this sacred place, a place he had claimed for his own. Few disputed una’re’s claims when he made them.

Eyes pained, Arak’Jur turned toward his charges. Ilek’Inari was frozen in fear. Even Corenna had paled.

“Run,” he said.

Arak’Jur leapt into the sky, coming down with the fury of the ipek’a, an ethereal blade forming around his hand like one of their scything claws. He scourged the una’re along its side as he landed, ripping the Great Bear’s flesh into a crevasse that soaked its legs in blood.

The beast roared as it reared up, its head twisting into a primal cry. Rage. Shock. This una’re had likely never met a beast that could wound him, let alone stay toe to toe in a running fight. Now the creature dripped from the pricks of a dozen minor wounds. Not enough to fell him, but enough to keep him moving in the direction Arak’Jur needed him to go: away from Corenna and Ilek’Inari.

Arak’Jur’s left hand was shattered and scored black, streaks of rotten flesh crawling up his arm where the bite of the una’re had found purchase. No time to worry over that now. With time even the direst of his wounds would heal, unless he was slain outright; another gift of the guardian, the first granted after communing with the beast spirits. Proof against lasting injury, though the pain he endured in full.

He raced around the beast toward the entrance to Ka’Ana’Tyat, channeling the gift of lakiri’in, cousin to the water-beasts of the far south. The scaled reptiles were deadly quick when they went for a kill but tended toward sloth when not pressed to exert themselves; their gift was similar—a short burst of speed, fading as quickly as it came.

Another flurry of swipes from the una’re’s claws raked the air overhead as he dove to the side. Shocking energy coursed into the ground, sending leaves and grass into the air with a smoldering hiss. Twisting toward the beast, Arak’Jur rolled with the driving attack, landing another sequence of empowered strikes along its flanks.

The blows he’d landed might be enough to slow it, if he could extend the chase long enough. The una’re seemed to sense it, too, giving him a low growl. It snapped in his direction, forcing him to keep his distance as the una’re recovered its footing. The two circled each other, the Great Bear showing him a measure of respect as each awaited the other’s next move.

The wind began to blow cold.

“No,” he called, his voice cracking from the pain. “No, Corenna!”

Too late. She stood with Ilek’Inari at her side, her face determined, eyes iced over with a wintry haze. The una’re turned to consider her, and she sent a barrage of needlepoint icicles streaking through the air. The beast let out a bellowing roar as Corenna’s ice took it across the shoulders, peppering its hide with bloody wounds. And then it charged.

Arak’Jur had already spent the gift of the valak’ar, his deadliest by far, and failed to land a blow. But he had saved the blessing of mareh’et. He used it now, a nimbus of the Great Cat surrounding him, granting ethereal claws and a surge of strength and speed. The una’re seemed to slow as he closed the gap, a shrill scream from Corenna echoing through the dense wood. He dove, and took the beast in the hind legs as it leapt.

Ilek’Inari’s voice joined the chorus of war cries as the una’re sailed through the air toward Corenna. A second volley of ice sprayed into the creature’s roaring maw. Arak’Jur’s strikes tore at its unprotected hindquarters, ripping the beast’s tendons with the savage cuts of mareh’et.

But it was the simple cut of the bone knife in the hands of the apprentice shaman that scored the killing blow.

Corenna rolled away from the corpse of the una’re. Beside her, Ilek’Inari had gone to his knees, eyes filmed over with white, in communion with the spirits.

It appeared Arak’Jur had found his apprentice.