The Ancient One (22 page)

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Because I listen to people like Aunt Melanie, instead of stealing their mail,”

Jody’s face reddened. “You’re just like her. Think you’re the smartest person in the world! Well, you can’t fool me. I know you just want to leave me here, wherever this place is. Well, forget about it, because I’m sticking to you like glue till I get home.”

“This
is
your home,” replied Kate. “Just five centuries earlier.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t care if you do or not. Just keep out of my way. If this walking stick is ever going to get us back, we’ve got lots of hard work to do.”

“No harder than working in the sawmill,” said Jody, pushing a scraggly lock of hair off his forehead. “And I’ve done that for five summers.” He scanned the Douglas fir by his side. “Sure are some mothers around here. I couldn’t believe it from the air. Never saw anything like it, so many trees. This place would keep the mill busy for years. Got any idea how many houses you could make out of just one tree like this?”

Kate looked at him frostily. “And how many houses would it take to make one of these trees?”

Just then a long, low hooting sound floated through the forest, like the call of an owl but subtler, gentler. It was accompanied by several slightly higher voices from the trees saying
hooo-hooo, hooo-hooo.
The initial owl-like sound grew louder and clearer until a lone Tinnani, flute at his lips, came walking toward them from behind a yew tree. Kandeldandel.

Jody squinted at the Tinnani. “Aw, no. I thought we left all you buzzards behind.”

Kandeldandel, whose head reached only as high as the boy’s waist, flashed him a vengeful glance. Then he trilled a few high notes on his flute. Immediately, the small red owl Arc swooped down from the branches above. With a loud whistle, the owl veered directly at Jody.

“Hey!” the boy exclaimed, ducking his head just as Arc sailed past. “He tried to dive-bomb me.”

Kandeldandel ruffled his feathers and turned his back on him, while Arc whistled again happily and landed on the Tinnani’s shoulder. Stepping closer to Kate, Kandeldandel lowered his flute and said in his deep, laughing voice, “Seems your friend doesn’t appreciate good music.”

Before Kate could respond, Jody picked up a spruce cone and threw it at Arc. It missed by a wide margin, prompting a new round of amused whistles.

“Too bad you’re such a lousy shot,” Kate lamented.

Jody glared at her. “And what kind of shot are you?”

“Better than you, that’s for sure.”

He stooped, picked up a cone and tossed it to her. “Let’s see.”

Kate hefted the cone in her hand. “You see that tree over there leaning to the side?”

Jody’s face widened into a grin. “No way you can hit that. Too far away.”

“And about ten feet up, you see that white fungus?”

“Give me a break. You’re all talk. Besides, you’re a—”

“A girl?” Kate’s eyes flashed angrily. She turned to the fungus, a white mound not much bigger than a catcher’s mitt, sprouting from the side of the trunk. Biting her lip, she concentrated on its position.

“This I’ve got to see,” said Jody derisively.

Rearing back as if she were about to fire one to home plate, she paused, her weight entirely on one foot. Then she flung herself forward as her arm released, snapping like a whip. The cone whizzed through the air, slicing past a heavily laden branch. It glanced off the bottom edge of the fungus, causing a shower of white particles to fall to the forest floor.

The boy gaped in amazement.

Trying to remain nonchalant, Kate resisted the urge to smile. Pointing to the bulldog wielding a baseball bat emblazoned on her sweatshirt, she said simply, “Girls can throw too.”

Jody gazed at her with new respect. “Hey, you’ve got an arm like Luis Aparicio’s.”

Kate’s eyes gleamed. “That’s some compliment. He could throw like anything. Made more double plays than any other shortstop in history.”

“And stole bases like crazy too.”

“Took me two whole years to get his rookie card for my collection.”

Jody nodded. “My favorite’s Honus Wagner. The Flying Dutchman. Stole seven hundred bases and played every position except catcher for the Pirates.”

“But he was best at shortstop,” Kate reminded him.

Jody indicated her bright green shoelaces. “Wouldn’t even have made the team with laces like that, though,” he teased. “They’re like a neon sign.”

Despite herself, Kate grinned.

Laioni tugged on her sleeve, looking positively bewildered. “I hear your words, but they mean nothing.”

“Don’t worry,” Kate replied, “it’s just baseball talk.” Her expression hardened again. “Nothing to do with Gashra.”

“What’s Gashra?” Jody asked.

“He’s the one we’re up against. He’s got the Broken Touchstone, and we’ll have to be faster than Honus Wagner to steal it from him. Let’s get going.”

“We should follow the river to make the best time,” said Laioni. “But the canyon is very wide and that will make us easy to spot. Gashra’s allies are everywhere.”

“Then we should stay more hidden, in the trees. Can you find a way? We’ll follow you.” Kate suddenly remembered Kandeldandel, who was nowhere in sight. “Where did that Tinnani go?”

“Someplace far away, I hope,” muttered Jody. “And his pet owl too.”

Just then, an ear-splitting blast as loud as a train whistle sounded right between Jody’s feet. He screamed and jumped nearly half his height into the air. Upon landing he whipped around to see what had made the terrifying noise.

Facing him, grinning blithely, stood Kandeldandel. Arc, who had released the whistle, sat innocently upon his shoulder. Kandeldandel bobbed his head in owl-like fashion, then hooted, “Just thought we’d say hello.”

Jody could not understand his words, but the mocking tone was clear. He grimaced and lunged at them. Arc lifted off into the branches, while the Tinnani stepped sideways and raised his full-feathered wings. His half grin broadened into a smile. Then, without warning, he brought the wings down and disappeared in a puff of white light. Not even the flute remained visible.

“You scared them,” scolded Kate.

“Scared
them
?” blurted Jody. “Didn’t you see what they did to me? First they dive-bomb me, then they nearly blast a hole in my backside.”

Kate and Laioni exchanged grins before starting to stride into the forest. After a few steps, Kate said, “I guess Kandeldandel can get Arc to do anything.”

Laioni cast her a knowing glance. “Tinnanis have a special way with owls. Not only with their close friends like Arc, either. Owls follow them everywhere they go, day or night.”

“I thought owls slept all day.”

“They do,” answered Laioni as she ducked beneath a branch, “unless a Tinnani is around. Tinnanis love to call them into action, hooting just like owls but with deeper voices. Kandeldandel does it with his flute too. So if you ever see an owl in flight during the day, you can be sure it’s the work of Tinnanis.”

Kate recalled the mysterious owl who had saved her from the spell of the deadly green pool. It even looked a bit like Arc, come to think of it. Could Tinnanis have been responsible for that? No, she told herself. Not possible, Besides, Tinnanis may not even be around in five hundred years—especially if Gashra had his way.

Monga, who was prancing immediately behind them, suddenly turned his head at a sound. Ears alert, he bounded off after some small, scurrying animal. Meanwhile, Jody reluctantly fell in behind, still grumbling to himself about the sneak attacks. He stopped every few steps to check under his legs for any new sign of trouble.

For the next several hours, they trekked through the thick forest. The terrain, hilly and rolling, reminded Kate of the up-and-down trail that ran near her hometown. Of course, there were significant differences: New England had no great trees like this, for one. But what about five hundred years ago? Hadn’t her mother once told her that the land in her part of Massachusetts once supported enormous forests of hemlock and chestnut, now replaced with subdivisions and shopping malls? She wondered, and found herself feeling some sympathy for Jody. It wasn’t his fault that he happened to grow up in a time and place where the livelihood people thought would continue forever was finally coming to an end. He was just unlucky enough to be born at the hardest moment in the history of his hometown.

Kate spotted an especially juicy clump of huckleberries and stopped to eat a few. The taste brought back instantly the tart flavor of Aunt Melanie’s homemade pie. Wistfully, she reached her hand into the pouch provided by the Chieftain. The
minarni
contained some kind of spindly roots that tasted like burned toast, as well as some reddish leaves, soaked in sauces and dried, with a flavor like vanilla pudding. As the Chieftain had promised, the food gave an unexpected surge of strength. Its stiff, chewy texture also made it seem more filling than its appearance warranted. She started walking again, then glanced behind at Jody, wondering whether he had decided to try any. No doubt if he had, he wouldn’t admit it.

Suddenly, she halted in her tracks. A wave of nausea passed through her. Dozens of deer, including several does and fawns, lay stacked haphazardly in piles beneath a tall Douglas fir. Arrows still protruded from some of their bloody hides. Several decapitated heads hung mutilated from the tree’s lower branches. Many of the carcasses, their meat rotting and spoiled, bore armies of flies and squirming brown maggots. Laioni knelt weeping before the tree, whose bark had been brutally slashed and gouged by knives. Monga lay beside her, his tail drooping.

Quietly, Kate approached and knelt beside her friend. She laid her arm across Laioni’s bare shoulders and waited until her sobs eventually ceased. Then she asked simply, “Who?”

Laioni turned a tear-stained face toward her. “Sanbu,” she whispered.

“But why?”

“Who can tell? Maybe—maybe he just thought it was fun. Maybe he wanted to get them before anyone else. Hunters like my father also stalk deer.”

Kate shook her head. “But your father would have taken only what he needed.”

“And thanked the deer for the gift,” added the Halami girl, staring blankly at the slaughtered animals beneath the tree.

Rising, Kate turned away from the gruesome sight and slowly walked the perimeter of the area. She saw a discarded knife carved from flint embedded in the branches of a bush, but no other sign of Sanbu’s band.

Jody joined her. “Who did this?” he asked, surveying the gory scene.

“Sanbu,” answered Kate. “One of Gashra’s men. Can you believe this mess?”

Jody pushed back a dangling lock of red hair. “Reminds me of a war movie I saw once.”

Without looking at him, Kate replied, “Reminds me of a clear-cut I saw once.”

Jody stiffened, but said nothing.

Laioni, trailed by Monga, walked up to them. “We should go,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Sanbu might still be near.”

XXI:
T
HE
C
ROSSING

Off they strode into the forest, with Laioni leading the way as before. She took them rapidly higher, ascending the spine of a ridge that they followed for a great distance until it dropped down into a steep-walled valley. The forest grew even thicker, with young trees seeming to sprout from the very roots of their elders. Yet despite the changing landscape and the increasing distance from Sanbu’s slaughter, the carnage remained fresh in Kate’s mind.

Frequently, they crossed clear pathways through the undergrowth, winding between the towering trees. Animal trails, Kate surmised, though she could not be certain. Some of them Laioni chose to follow for significant distances. Others, perhaps traveled more by people than by four-legged wanderers, she avoided. Kate wished she had studied Aunt Melanie’s hand-drawn map more closely. She seemed to recall something near Brimstone Peak, a section of the map that was veiled in darkness. But she could not be sure.

At one point she heard a low whistling above her head. She looked up to discover Arc descending slowly toward her, his rusty red wings spread wide. The huge brown eyes of the owl studied her intently from the middle of his wide facial disc. For the first time, Kate noticed his little ear tufts and the long white feathers sprouting from both sides of his silvery beak, giving the impression of well-combed whiskers. With a gentle whistle, the diminutive owl settled on her left shoulder.

“So you’d like a rider” asked Kate, enjoying the feeling of his soft plumage against her cheek.

Arc ruffled his feathers contentedly.

“I wonder where your friend Kandeldandel is.” mused Kate.

The owl raised his wings slightly, as if to say,
How should I know?

“Do you think he’ll turn up again?”

Arc merely repeated the gesture.

“Nothing predictable about him,” said Kate with a smile.

The owl whistled softly and shook his long whiskers.

Kate realized at that moment how much Arc combined elements of other animals: the wide eyes of a cat, the round shape of a bear, the talons and wings of a hawk. Right now, at rest, he seemed as harmless as a down pillow. Yet in an instant he could become a skillful hunter, sailing soundlessly through the air in search of prey. A creature of many contrasts, she thought—much like human beings.

They entered an area more verdant than anyplace they had seen since leaving Lost Crater. Walking on the stretches of soft, spongy moss felt like stepping across a mattress. Presently the sound of splashing water reached them. They came upon a narrow canyon with dark rock walls covered with thousands upon thousands of lushly layered ferns. High as houses rose the richly decorated rocks on both sides. Kate counted five small waterfalls streaming down through the ferns, looking like marble columns in a temple of green. Arc moved to the edge of her shoulder and released an ascending whistle that reverberated within the walls. Then he listened to the echo, bobbing his head rhythmically.

Ahead, the canyon opened into a grassy clearing where the water from the waterfalls combined to form a surging stream. As they approached the clearing, the continual rushing of the stream grew louder. Gurgling over rounded rocks, the water cascaded steadily through the wide channel. Monga started barking, and Laioni called to him sharply. Stepping closer, Kate saw the immense form of a black bear standing near the opposite bank, her hind legs submerged in the stream. Nearby two identical cubs rolled on the grass together, wrestling playfully.