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A reasonable person would’ve turned around and gone home. It turned out the hunter from the marsh was not a reasonable person.
At first, I did think he was being reasonable and had left me alone. Then, Behorra kept stopping and looking back again, and when I turned around, there he was. He wasn’t close, mind you, mostly he was a dark shape, but he was still there.
It sent a streak of irritation through me, and I sped up my pace, going over needlessly difficult terrain. Let’s see him keep this up for long!
I lost him quick enough and felt a fierce satisfaction.
Then night came, and out in the distance I saw the tiny little flicker of a fire. Annoyance surged through me again.
I got up early, before the blue had been burned away by gold, and set off. I went fast, zigzagging and crossing my tracks and making it as confusing as possible as I headed north. At least I hadn’t told him my destination.
By midday, I was confident he would have lost my trail. I went more leisurely, shooting a rabbit and roasting it for a good meal. Behorra almost burned her nose on the fire. She was getting to curious for her own good.
Come nightfall, there was once more a fire in the distance.
I aggressively sharpened my knife until the light was too dark, and then I had nothing to take my feelings out on. He was still following me! How dare he still follow me! How did he even manage to keep following me?
I hardly slept, determined to outpace him and leave him far, far behind the next day.
I made a point of wasting time leaving an obvious trail heading west, then went back to my heading of north. I even got some good distance in, because I coaxed Behorra into letting me ride her at a bouncy trot for a while.
I walked for a while, even well into sunset, feeling confident that, finally, I must have lost him. I settled down, pleased with myself.
When I woke up, my nose was filled with the smell of the smoke of wet wood. I looked and saw him in the middle distance, lying down and sleeping as if dead to the world. His fire was more smoke and steam than flame. He must’ve walked all night.
“How’s he doing it?” I asked Behorra. “And why is he so determined? He’s just getting himself lost.”
Behorra didn’t have any answers. She seemed less concerned about him than I did. I sighed, my insides all tangled up and cross. I simply wasn’t getting rid of him.
I was sick of wasting the time and energy trying to lose him. He wasn’t going to be fooled, somehow, and the longer I spent wandering around, the worse the souls of my clan got. He could keep up this deranged attempt to keep following me, and I hoped he’d grow bored of it after a day or two more.
Though I left before he awoke, he quickly closed the distance between us. He wasn’t close, exactly. I could see him, make out a few details, but one of us would have to shout to have even a chance of hearing the other. I expected him to start yelling at any moment, but he remained silent.
He just followed me at that distance. Like a shadow.
Frustration pulsed through me all the time. I didn’t get why he was doing this. We didn’t really know each other, nor did he get anything out of it. It just . . . made no sense.
I shot down a few birds one day, using some of their feathers to repair my arrows. As far as I could tell, my follower preferred using a spear to hunt over a bow. I could appreciate that.
I sighted down the arrow shaft, ensuring I got the spiral of the fletching just right. There was a tall stone with rings carved in the distance that was good for focusing on.
Wait a minute. I stopped bothering with the arrows and made my way over to the stone. It was tall and alone, and oddly rectangular with straight sides. As I got closer, shapes and symbols began to appear on its surface.
They were worn smooth by rain and crusted with lichen, but I could still make them out. A set of concentric rings, the shapes of people, and the signs we used for certain constellations as well as for a sacred place.
Just as my father had described to me, here were directions to the place I sought. Or at least to the next marking stone. I thought there were several such stones, all over the place, and I didn’t know which one in the chain this would be.
I committed the marks to memory. I wondered what it had been like, to be one of my ancestors, leaving a place so important they had to leave a permanent trail to find it again. My ancestors got to do all the impressive, important things.
I was just a wanderer followed by a horse and a weird guy. That felt like a pretty good omen I wasn’t destined for anything much.
I followed my new heading the next day, the hunter once more just on the edge of a creepy distance behind me. It was annoying how I couldn’t lose him. When he was behind me it felt like I had an itch on the back of my neck.
We kept walking for a few days. The weather was warm and pleasant, with the sun bright and the sky clear. The bugs were starting to come out in full force, and the animals were all beginning to have their babies. Young were easy prey, but it wasn’t good practice to hunt them.
Behorra found a good, lush field full of the leafy grasses she favoured. It was close to a large copse of trees, something almost big enough to be considered a forest, that had several trees that put out spring nuts.
Nuts were always a welcome addition to my food stores, so I left Behorra to her meal and ventured in. The ground under the trees was uneven and sloped upwards, but the going was easy enough. I soon filled a pouch with nuts and started on a second one.
A gentle rushing sound played on the edge of my hearing. I made my way towards it, for loud river streams always ran clear and sweet.
The river, a fast moving thing, had cut through the land, a deep, curving scar rushing beneath me. I stared down at the white froth. I wouldn’t be collecting any of that water. The steep slope down to it was covered in rich, healthy greens.
It was a veritable feast, in a sense, and they would keep fairly well. The ground wasn’t that steep near the top, either, I thought, and it wasn’t like I was going to try going anywhere near the river’s depth.
I set my things down at the base of a tree and set my feet on the slope. It held well, and it didn’t take much effort to balance on it. I stepped along it and crouched down to start cutting.
It didn’t take long to fill up a pouch and tie it to my belt. The cut ends were releasing a fragrant smell. I reached out to gather another handful.
The world around me began to tilt, and I could hear the clatter of dirt and stone and my foot was trying to catch itself on air. My heart stopped. My breath hitched.
No, no, no – My thoughts spiraled.
Shock jolted through my arm and shoulder, a hard snap traveling through me. I blinked and looked up.
Kemen, the hunter from the marsh, had grabbed my wrist, his other hand gripping the trunk of a sapling. He was breathing hard. I was, too. My body was precariously sprawled on the steep slope, feet dangling over the raging water below.
I didn’t want to fall.
I reached up with my other hand and grabbed his arm.
His muscles strained as he pulled me up. My feet scrambled against the slope, toes digging in wherever they could. I held on so tight my knuckles were white.
My feet reached the top of the embankment. Kemen reeled back, giving a final, sharp tug, and I found my weight tipped forward.
The two of us crashed into the ground, him beneath me.
My heart hammered and I struggled to remember how to breath. His face was right there and I wasn’t falling to my death. There was a speckling of freckles on his nose and his eyes had hints of dark blue.
His hand moved, half lifting towards one of the braids falling over my temple.
I pushed myself off him and scrambled back. I marched away from the edge, something in me shuddering.
I heard him sit up and paused. “Thank you,” I said softly over my shoulder. I rushed back through the trees and out into the grasses where Behorra still ate. I buried my face in her mane for just a minute.
That was all the indulgence I would give myself.
-
I MADE A CHEERY, ROARING fire that night. I wanted to feel safe and grounded and the heat of the fire settled a little bit of warmth in my bones. Behorra lay down, not too near, not too far, and gave a great sigh as she warmed and settled to sleep.
I heard the crunch of footsteps, but I focused on throwing another branch on the fire. It crackled and sent up a wave of sparks. The shadow of Kemen appeared in the darkness of the rest of the world.
“Hi,” he said.
I made a quiet sound in my throat. He came and sat down by the fire, stretching out his hands towards its flames.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He glanced at me, once and the away. “That was a pretty close call earlier, and memory serves you’re not the best self-healer.”
“I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt,” I said.
“That’s good. I’m fine too, by the way, thanks for asking. Am I entitled to a cut of your harvest? You picked my favourite and I did save your life.”
I flashed him an annoyed look, then made a big show about pulling out the bag, transferring two handfuls to another pouch, and tossing it over to him.
He gave a smile. “Thanks. You seem way better at foraging and hunting than me. I mean, I’m not bad, but I don’t bring in enough to keep myself alive for weeks and weeks. It’s pretty impressive that you can.”
“It’s not hard.”
“Guess you’re just talented, then. That’s lucky. I’ve always have to work hard to be even halfway decent.”
“I worked hard too!” I snapped. I swallowed down other words. “Forget it. It’s been a long day; I’m going to rest.”
I lay down on my back, feet towards the fire, fur coat over my chest, eyes towards the stars. There were so many stars.
“Oh, yeah, you’re right. It has been a day. I should probably turn in, too.” I heard sounds of him shuffling and settling. “You don’t find it scary, sleeping with no one to watch the night? It freaks me out a little, to be honest. Or does your horse keep watch? Your horse sleeps, right? Seems to be a very unusual horse, after all . . .”
“Behorra sleeps,” I said. “But she wakes easily. And she’s loud.”
“Like a dog?”
“Better than a dog.”
“Mm, yeah, she definitely seems more useful than a dog.” More shuffling sounds. “How’d you . . . I mean, horses are wild, but she’s not. It just – seems impossible. Especially since she’s not a demon.”
“. . . I shot her,” I began. I heard him shift eagerly and cleared my throat. “After that I’m not really sure how. It just happened. But now there’s me and her and that’s enough.”
“Is it?”
I didn’t bother to give that a response. Kemen shifted again. “Hey, can I come a little closer? I’m used to sharing a pallet with others, so honestly the past few nights I’ve been pretty sleepless and anxious.”
“Do what you want.”
On the edge of my vision I saw him get up. I figured he’d move more towards the fire by my feet, but instead he lay down next to me – right next to me. He was so close the hairs on my arm almost prickled from the proximity. The feeling made things inside me twist and bend.
“That’s better,” he said. “It’s nice to feel less alone, don’t you think?”
“I’m not alone.”
“Right. You said that before. I suppose you have a good point, you have your horse. Me, though, this is the first time I’ve camped alone. It is not my favourite experience.”
“You didn’t chose that, when you had your coming-of-age ceremony?”
“Oh, no, I did go and survive alone for that, but, I mean, that’s different. You know people are watching the area and keeping an eye out in case anything happens to you. Out here, you’re just alone. No help is coming. That’s what freaks me out.”
“Well that’s you.”
“You really aren’t very talkative, are you? Hey, do you at least remember my name?”
“Yes. It’s Kemen.”
“So you do remember! That’s good. I honestly thought you’d forgotten.” For a blessed moment, quiet fell. “Look, I know you’re going through . . . a lot, and you probably want nothing to do with me, but I can’t help but think you need someone on your side. And there doesn’t seem to be anyone else offering.”
“Be –”
“I mean a human on your side. A horse can’t replace a human, not fully.”
“Think what you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“You say that, but I . . . I can’t wrap my head around it.”
A bolt of tension shot through me. I was intensely aware of my hand, and his hand creeping close enough to touch.
I yanked mine away. “Don’t do that,” I snapped. It felt like my side was facing the fire, instead of my feet, and I didn’t like it.
“Hm? Oh, sorry. I hadn’t realized.” An awkward beat fell as he shifted. “Do the Bizkor Oiloa know the same stories of the constellations as the Oin Zuria?”
“How would I know?” I settled myself into a position more comfortable and twisted my head so I looked away.
“What about the one, about the hunter and the fire bird?”
“I know it.”
“Alright, do you want to tell it, then?”
“Why don’t we just sleep?”
“Everyone knows you get a better sleep after sharing a story.”
I made a vague sound that was almost a laugh in response to that.
“I’ll tell it, if you don’t want to.
“Long ago, many demons walked the earth, from the behemoths who’s bones we still build our homes from, to strange spirits who could drive you mad with a glimpse. There were no clans in those days, for there were few humans and they stayed with their blood families, hiding in crevices to protect them from everything. One of these humans was a man named Gaizka, who protected his family by night, and hunted game by day.
“One day, Gaizka was on the trail of a behemoth, spears in hand, but by the time he had brought down the beast, he realized the day had grown late and he had strayed far from his family. As the night is a dangerous time, he sought out a place of safety for the night. It fell dark before he could find such a place, but in that darkness, he saw something.
“It was as bright as the sun, but smaller, and it flitted through the night sky with an orange glow. Drawn to it, Gaizka followed the strange light. When he grew close he discovered – the thing was a bird! A bird who’s feathers were made of light and who’s flight was made of heat.
“No sooner did he realize this, did the bird vanish, and the morning sun rose.”
I was hardly listening. I knew this tale, and I tried to focus my ears on the sounds of the night, not his voice.
“Gaizka returned to his family and told them what he saw. They thought he had dreamed it. Gaizka was determined to prove to his family that the strange bird existed. He bid them goodbye, took with him his spears, and went to seek out the bird.
“During the day, he saw not a single feather. When night fell, he would see the glowing bird dance in the sky. He followed it for so many days, they became moons, and Gaizka became thin from lack of eating.”
My hand prickled again, Kemen’s hand creeping closer and closer.
“One night, the strange bird rested. It settled itself atop a rocky hill and tucked its head under its wing. Gaizka took the opportunity to sneak up on it.”
A little bit of tension thrummed through me. Kemen’s fingers moved just a bit against the back of my hand.
“The bird was even more wonderous up close. Its feathers crackled and glowed, bright as the sun and as warm as sunlight. Its heat went right to Gaizka’s bones.”
I tried to focus on anything, even his stupid story, to not pay attention to the feather-light feel of him stroking the back of my hand.
“Gaizka wanted to show his family this wonderous creature, and as a hunter he only knew one way, so he readied his spear to strike. But before he could drive the point home, the bird awoke and flew away into the dawn in a flurry of sparks.
“Disappointed, Gaizka returned to hunting the bird. How could he return home, without this incredible prize to show his family? More moons passed, and those moons became years.”
What I wanted to know, was why he kept moving his fingers against my hand.
“Eventually, Gaizka’s strength failed him. His legs could no longer run, his arms could no longer lift his spear, and his eyes could see little beside the brightness of the bird. He fell to the ground, wishing he could at least see his family one last time.
“That winter night, as Gaizka lay there, the bird approached him. It flew above him in the air, but Gaizka did not rise to chase it. As dawn approached, the bird landed next to Gaizka, who gathered the strength to raise his hand, hoping, perhaps, he could at least touch the bird before he passed.
“The bird did not want to be touched, but it admired the man who had played with it for so long. So the bird went over to Gaizka’s ear and in it whispered its song, and through its song, strength and knowledge flowed through Gaizka. The bird then curled itself around the end of the man’s spear, and then, when the spear itself glowed bright, it took off.
“With the fire on his spear to light the way, and the fire bird’s knowledge of how to create it inside him, Gaizka made the long journey back to his home. His partner was long dead, but his children lived on, and their children as well. They were in awe of his fire, and he showed them how to make it.
“With the fire, Gaizka and his family had no need to fear the night. Fire warmed the body and heart and kept evil at bay. To thank the fire bird for its gift, Gaizka and his family decided to share it, and they set out to find other blood families, and teach them the secret of fire.
“Eventually came the day when Gaizka died, but on that day, something wondrous happened. All those who were present were amazed that, when night fell, the fire bird appeared. It landed on Gaizka’s chest, and the two of them turned into a shower of sparks. The sparks flew high, so high that they settled among the stars, and there they remain to this day, an eternal game of tag, watching over the world below.”
The snap of the fire seemed fitting in the silence that fell.
I drew in a shuddering breath. “Why did you pick that story?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “Maybe it reminded me of you. Did I tell it well?”
His finger brushed the back of my hand again. “Well enough.”
The quiet stretched out, a tenuous, coiling thing in the night. Behorra’s slow breathing calmed my heart. I fixed my gaze on the far-off, dark horizon. The stars were blazing above.
“Ainara.”
“What?”
“Ainara. It’s my name.”
A slow exhale. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ainara.”
I told myself that sound of my name did not send a longing thrill through me.