CROSSROADS
Victor and Galen agreed on one thing: the ballad sounded like a map in song.
“What does it mean?” Victor asked. “Where is the pool within mountain streams? Could that be Long Pool? How will we know if we find the right eagle’s nest?”
Galen’s answer was slow coming; he realized they were at a crossroads. In his excitement, he fell headlong into a shallow hole. With a grunt, he pulled himself out. He couldn’t be still; his short legs moved quickly as he paced back and forth.
Abruptly, he stopped before Victor. “You’re thinking too small.”
Victor looked down his nose at Galen. “I think small?”
“Compare possible ballads: Victor finds missing trekkers or Victor finds Faralone Falls. Which ballad do you want your grandfather to write?”
“You’d risk everything?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Of course, they should take Rafael back to El Garro and let him explain what he saw, let him sing the ballad. El Garro would send out more searchers. That’s what they should do. But Galen saw another route.
Victor avoided an answer. “We need to get out of this valley.”
Corrie objected, “Rafael’s blind. He can’t travel.”
Quivering inside, Galen studied Rafael’s silvery eyes. They could take Rafael at his word: that the Faralone Falls was near and Rafael’s ballad could help find it, thus ending decade upon decade of trekking forced on them by the curse.
Corrie said again, “We can’t change the point of our search. We must find the trekkers first; that’s what El Garro sent us to do.”
His pulse throbbing, Galen whispered, “Think of it: the Ballad of the Faralone Falls.”
“I saw her.” Rafael’s voice rose on a crescendo, then waned again. “She sang a ballad.”
Corrie glared at the other three. “El Garro needs to know we found Rafael.”
Victor looked sideways at Galen. “El Garro needs to know?”
Galen asked, “Why create a false hope? We have no idea if any other trekker had an experience similar to Rafael’s.”
Rafael swayed as if to music that only he could hear. “In the moonlight, she sang.”
Corrie stamped a front foot. “You’re blind!”
Galen suddenly shrugged. “Let’s see how he travels. Victor, lead the way.”
This suggestion to move on pleased both Corrie and Victor. They began the slow journey out of the valley maze. Galen took extra care to stay right in front of Rafael. His brother walked close enough that Galen’s tail often swept gently against Rafael’s front legs, which left Galen acutely conscious of his brother’s condition. Galen chafed at the situation. He wanted to be on his way, looking for Faralone Falls, and he wanted these complications to go away. If any chance existed of finding the Falls, of freeing his people from the curse of trekking, of saving the Four Sisters from their own dangerous trek—a sliver of joy shot through him. Could Rafael’s vision be true?
Rafael stepped on Galen’s tail.
“Ow!” Galen yelled.
“Sorry, sorry,” mumbled Rafael.
Victor looked around a boulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Galen snapped, and then wondered why he was mad. He didn’t want to hide Rafael’s problems. But he didn’t want Victor criticizing his brother, either. To Rafael, he whispered kindly, “You have to show you can keep up.”
Rafael didn’t answer, but he did stay closer than ever to Galen.
Galen concentrated on threading through the maze of boulders. The near-quarter moon was setting. To make it easier for Rafael, Galen found ways around the large limestone blocks. They squeezed through narrow passages. Only once was Galen forced to ask Victor’s help in getting Rafael over a large stone. While helping, Victor was extra-polite. After the boulders, they moved quicker following the creek until it reached the main stream. The cool black before dawn was upon them.
Galen wondered if Victor would take them north toward Long Pool or south back to the Great Clearing.
Rafael blundered into the shallows and greedily drank. He raised his head and said, “Fresh water. In the valley, everything tasted awful.”
The comment worried Galen: he hadn’t been with Rafael from the start, so had no way to judge how he was changing. The valley’s pool had been fed by the waterfall, so it hadn’t been bad. Rafael’s head injury must have affected his taste. Perhaps everything tasted bad right after the accident, but his head was healing, so maybe he was tasting things more accurately. Perhaps, there was hope that Rafael’s sight would return, too. There was just no way to know.
“Hoo! You found Rafael!” Blaze flew in and landed beside Corrie.
“Yes,” Galen said. “Did you find Long Pool?”
“It’s half a night’s travel from here,” Blaze said. “Hoo! Will you go now? Or sleep for the day? Or will you take Rafael back to the Great Clearing?”
Victor said, “We’ll decide tomorrow night. For now, we’ll eat and sleep. You can roost if you want.”
Blaze dipped her head and clicked her tongue. “I will find you at sunset.” She flapped once, then glided to a nearby pine, and side stepped into the shadows.
Rafael stumbled out of the stream with his nose lifted, sniffing. “Hmmm,” he sighed. “Roses.”
Still holding his nose high, he trotted toward a patch of briars. It was a wild rose, mostly full of buds, but with a few early flowers in full bloom. Galen watched his brother’s detour with an increasing sense of doom. He wasn’t sure how Rafael avoided the thorns, but he plucked a blush-pink rose.
Galen asked, “What’s that for?”
“Mother,” Rafael mumbled. He said more, but with the rose in his mouth, Galen couldn’t understand. Rafael began to hum another ballad.
Later, Galen would tell Rafael about their parents’ death. Not yet. Rafael needed to go back to Felix’s den. He wasn’t in shape—physically, or especially, mentally—to go on. But how could they return without searching for the Falls?
The curse, the yearning to move northward, threatened to smother Galen. He gasped, gulping in air. He took up the argument again. “Rafael sings the Turi’s song.”
Victor spat. “You would risk everything? For that song?”
Galen’s stomach burned, like the world itself was spinning within him. When did simple wishes become so complicated? He wished Rafael was healed. He wished the Sisters would never have to trek. He wished he could be part of finding the Faralone Falls. He wished to be rid of the curse, which pulled him northward when his brother needed to go south. “No, I would risk everything for my Sisters. For our people.”
Rafael chanted, “We will find the Turi’s cave.”
Corrie had been smelling a rose, but at Rafael’s words, she spun around. “Did you hear him?”
“Of course,” Victor snapped.
“No. You didn’t hear him,” Corrie insisted. She marched to Rafael’s side and stared. “Or you didn’t understand.”
Victor and Galen looked at each other. Galen shrugged.
Corrie explained patiently, “Cave. He said Turi’s cave.”
Comprehension dawned in Galen. All they’d heard about was the Faralone Falls. No one had ever mentioned a cave. Could Rafael’s song really be a map-song that would lead to the Faralone Falls and a Turi’s cave? A cave! His heart beat a staccato of joy.
“You need me,” Rafael said. Then his lopsided face broke into a huge smile.
“Can you find the Turi’s cave?” Corrie asked.
“She sang in the moonlight,” Rafael repeated.
The trees were becoming more distinct in the growing dawn. Victor yawned and tried to head off more discussion. “We need to find a den for the day.”
.