LYNX
The glare of sunlight reflecting from the Ice Giants is so brilliant this morning I have to squint as I make my way across the tundra. All around me, wildflowers wave in the sea breeze like a many-colored blanket, and the early morning air is intensely fragrant.
When I veer right onto the trail that slants down the cliff face and into the sea cave where Sky Ice Village nestles, I see a boy with huge blue eyes standing in the middle of the trail. His blond hair and big angular face make him unmistakable: Jawbone. Quiller adopted him three summers ago after his Rust People village was destroyed by a pride of lions. He’s a curious child, small for his age, and weedy. I guess he weighs half as much as he should at thirteen summers. I can tell he’s breathing hard.
Lifting a hand, I call, “Good morning, Jawbone. Is your mother in the village?”
Whirling around, he charges down the trail into the cave, shouting, “Mother! Mother! The Blessed Teacher has come for you!”
By the time I make my way down the narrow trail cut into the cliff face, Quiller is already hurrying across the village to meet me. In the background, I see women herd their children toward lodges. Even most of the elders hobble across the cave on their walking sticks and slump down in a circle on the far side, as far away from me as they can get. Only four people remain around the village fire: My brother, War Leader Mink, Quiller’s husband RabbitEar, Elder Hoodwink, and Jawbone.
When I stand before her, Quiller affectionately says, “Lynx,” and hugs me. “What are you doing here? I’m glad to see you. Come and have a cup of wildflower tea with us.”
“Are you sure, Quiller? The elders are already whispering behind their hands.”
“Of course I’m sure. Come on.”
She links her arm with mine and guides me toward the fire.
“My wayward brother!” Mink leaps to his feet to embrace me and gestures to the bison hides spread around the fire. “What a surprise. Sit down.”
People peer at me from behind lodge flaps.
“I won’t be here long,” I announce and can almost hear the sigh of relief coming from my relatives. “I just need to speak with Matron Quiller.”
When I do not sit down, Quiller gives me an uneasy smile. “What about, Lynx?”
“May we speak in private?”
“Yes, of course.”
I lead her to the lip of the cave, where I stare down at the zyme-covered waves splashing against the cliff barely twenty hand-lengths below me. When summer warms the water, the zyme grows so fast it creates vaguely human-looking mounds and pillars out across the surface of the ocean. They bob and sway for as far as I can see.
Quiller softly asks, “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
“No,” I say with a smile. “But I thank you for asking. I’m hoping you have the time to come with me so that I may show you a strange cavern.”
Red hair blows over her green eyes. She grabs a handful and holds it so she can see me. “What cavern?”
“Jorgensen calls it the Cavern of Blue Faces.”
“Blue faces? What are they?”
“It’s easier to explain if you see it for yourself. My words will be a poor substitute.”
Quiller scans my expression. A long time ago, we were lovers, and she still looks at me with love in her eyes. She knows me better than anyone alive, including my brother. She asks, “Have you seen the faces?”
“Yes.”
Quiller frowns. “All right. If you think I should see it, I will go with you. How far is it?”
“About four hands of time away, a little more if the trail is muddy from meltwater.”
Quiller turns and heaves a sigh. “Let me gather my pack, quiver, and spear. Why don’t you sit down for a few moments and speak with Mink while I do that?”
When I nod, Quiller trots across the cave toward her lodge, and I quietly walk back to stand looking down at my brother where he sits upon the hide. “It does me good to see you, Mink.”
If it weren’t for the fact that Mink has seen three more summers than I, we could be twins. He has a heavy-boned, blocky face with prominent brow ridge and dark, deeply sunken eyes. Long black hair hangs down the front of his hide cape.
Mink gives me a vaguely hostile look. “Why don’t you come down the trails more often? You’re always welcome.”
As I glance around the village at the people peering at me from behind lodge flaps, I know my brother is just being kind. “You could come to my mountain cave, too, you know.”
Mink nods. “True, but I’m War Leader. I have duties. You do not.”
The words hurt. According to the traditions of the Sealion People, by now I should be married with three or four children. I should be a hunter bringing in food to feed people, and a warrior if we are attacked. In their eyes, I have abandoned my responsibilities.
“I know you do,” I say softly. “How is everything here?”
Just above a whisper, he replies, “Well, not so good,” and glances at Jawbone as though he doesn’t wish to say more in front of the boy.
Jawbone watches me with a bizarre expression, as though he knows something I don’t. I smile at him and he leans closer to RabbitEar, staying quiet as a mouse when an eagle’s shadow passes over. RabbitEar puts his muscular arm around his son’s back, murmuring, “He’s just a man. Nothing more.”
Jawbone blinks, but his wide eyes never leave me.
“Lynx,” RabbitEar says. “Sit down. You’re making Jawbone nervous, and me, too, if truth be told.”
“Forgive me. I don’t mean to make anyone nervous.” I crouch beside Mink.
“You’re peculiar,” Jawbone says, “because you live with a spirit being. You can’t help it. Mother told me.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Elder Hoodwink brushes gray hair behind his ears, and gently says, “All holy people are peculiar, Jawbone. Comes from constantly walking in the spirit world. Soon, you will understand.”
Jawbone continues to stare at me.
Every time I see him, I sense something amiss, as though he’s only partly here in this world. Despite the way he stares at people and things, his eyes are empty, as though his soul is off somewhere on a spirit journey. I wonder if that’s what Hoodwink meant? Is the boy a shaman in the making?
I ask, “Jawbone, are you studying the ways of power with Elder Hoodwink?”
The boy shakes his head. “No, but I will after I’ve climbed the quest wall and gained a spirit helper.”
The quest wall is a massive rock wall that rises one thousand hand-lengths into the sky. Handholds have been hacked into the wall to make it easier for children to climb. Generally, it takes a child four days to reach the top, where his parents wait in the parents’ rock shelter, giant boulders that lean together. At regular intervals, caves dot the wall. That’s where children camp at night to rest and wait for a spirit helper to come to them.
“Well, Hoodwink is an amazing teacher,” I say. “I’m sure you will grow up to help our people. When are you supposed to climb the wall?”
“Three days from now,” he announces with a look of pride. “After that, I will be a man.”
“Yes, you will,” I say.
Elder Hoodwink smiles at Jawbone. “Lynx would probably also be willing to serve as one of your teachers, if you asked him. Having many teachers is better than . . .”
A look of panic creases the boy’s face. He leaps up and charges for his lodge as though fleeing a predator. When he throws back the flap, he almost bowls Quiller over as she steps outside with her pack and weapons. “Jawbone, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mother.”
RabbitEar gives me an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, Lynx. It’s not you. He’s worried about this spirit quest. One of his friends fell last summer. Smashed his skull on the rocks below.”
“What happened? I thought the quest trail was constantly maintained to make sure it’s safe.”
“It is, but a surprise rainstorm came through,” Mink answers. “Little Gull’s foot slipped on the wet rock, and as he scrambled to find another foothold, he lost his balance.”
We are all silent, just listening to the zyme-muffled roar of Mother Ocean.
“I’m ready,” Quiller calls and slings her quiver of spears over her shoulder, as she walks up to me. “We should be going. I want to be back before nightfall when the predators come out.”
RabbitEar stands up. “I’ll go with you. You’ll need at least three people with spears, just in case—”
“No.” I thrust out a hand to stop him. “Just Quiller. I mean no disrespect, RabbitEar. Once she understands the problem, I will leave it up to her to decide what should be done next.”
Quiller looks at me, then back at her husband. “Thank you, RabbitEar, but we’ll be all right. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“You’d better,” RabbitEar says, and gives me a faintly angry look, “or I’ll come looking for you.”