The Wayfinder Read online

  Win snatched a second torch from the pack and lit it from the first. Only one more torch left. Would they make it out of the tunnel before the torches ran out?

  “Let’s go.” Win threw the old torch toward the tatzelwurm, then turned and ran for a hundred feet before turning to guard their backs again with the torch. They continued upward with the beast dogging each step, now darting from the left to test Win’s reflexes, now charging from the right, forcing Win to stay vigilant. Win walked backward, blind to any rough spots in the path or low spots in the ceiling. Once he stumbled, and the tatzelwurm almost reached his feet before he could snatch them away. Once he bumped his head and could only swing the torch wildly in front of him until his vision cleared.

  Though she said nothing, Win knew that Lady Kala’s claustrophobia grew with each step. He caught fleeting thoughts from her: Tons and tons of stone above me. Dark, so dark. Can’t breathe. How long before she panicked?

  After a long time the torch again needed to be replaced. But this time Win had left the backpack open. His hand groped for and found the last torch. He waited until his hand was hot from the torch, and he was holding the very tip, then thrust the last torch into the flames. The second torch sputtered, flickered and went out.

  Lady Kala asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s damp from the waterfall,” Win said. A few sparks still glowed on the new torch. Win blew on them.

  “You’re losssst,” gloated the tatzelwurm.

  Lady Kala growled; the tatzelwurm hissed. Under it all Win heard the beast slithering closer. He blew harder. How close was the tatzelwurm?

  Flames flowed, and the last torch ignited.

  Win flashed the torch in a vertical arc around his feet, catching the lizard’s head and flipping it upside down. “Run.”

  Pounding feet and paws echoed through the tunnel.

  Then: “Hisss! Buried in ssstone!”

  “How much farther?” Lady Kala’s mind voice was tense.

  “The Finding leads on. That’s all I know.”

  By the time the tatzelwurm caught up, they had come to a place where the passage led almost straight up. Steps were cut here, but with shallow treads and too high a rise, so that it taxed Win to climb backward up the steps, and for Lady Kala it was extremely awkward. They labored upward. The tatzelwurm managed the steps surprisingly well, using powerful claws to hook over the edge of each step and haul itself up. If they hadn’t been so weary, they could have left it far behind. Win forced his legs to move backward, forced heavy arms to swing the torch at the creature, then repeated it all again. The tatzelwurm had no trouble keeping up; it waited patiently for Win to make a mistake.

  Win paused to catch his breath. He ran a hand over the cold damp stone and realized the rough steps had been cut by men. Who waited at the top for them?

  “People made this path. If we escape this tunnel, we must hide during the day,” he warned Lady Kala.

  The tatzelwurm hissed, “No essscape.”

  Finally the air became fresher, and then Win realized he was looking up into the starlit sky. They were close to the surface!

  The tatzelwurm must have realized this, too. Suddenly it charged. It slammed into Win’s shins, and he fell heavily. The torch fell, too, bursting into pieces. For a moment the tatzelwurm paused, trying to get past the burning embers.

  “Run!” Win yelled.

  Lady Kala and Win leapt up the stairs toward the stars. Claws scrambled on stone. Then the creature leapt. Instinctively Win slapped it backhanded. The tatzelwurm landed with a whack on the stair just behind Win, then fell backward onto its spine. Angry hissing erupted, the stuffy feet clawed at the air, and the tail lashed violently.

  Lady Kala and Win fled upward. A few moments later they emerged.

  “Where is it?” Win yelled. He searched for a rock or stick to fight the tatzelwurm. When he turned back, Lady Kala was staring at the tatzelwurm, which sat just inside the tunnel entrance. Win stepped into her line of vision. “Don’t look at him or he’ll hypnotize you and draw you back inside the tunnel.”

  Lady Kala growled softly. “We’re safe now. It won’t leave the tunnel.

  Huge eyes glowed at them from just inside the tunnel. “Sss!”

  “Let’s get under cover,” Win said.

  They ran until a small grove of woods hid them. The moon was low on the horizon, almost setting.

  Win said, “Look! We’re about a couple hundred yards from the river and maybe fifty yards from the edge of the Rift. When it floods, water would come down that tunnel, too. We could climb it only during the dry season.”

  “Look there!” Lady Kala was facing the east. The sky was already lightening with the coming of a new day. “We’ve made it across the Rift!”

  On the other side of the Rift they saw G’il Rim as no Heartlander except the King and Hazel had ever seen it. Sunlight touched the tops of the tiny city walls with a rosy glow. It looked so small, yet inside its walls were thousands of people.

  Win grinned at Lady Kala. “We made it.”

  They sat under an evergreen tree on a smooth, flat rock and gazed at the city. until the sun rose higher, and the glow faded. Win longed to hear Hazel and wished he could talk to her and eat stew from her kettle. He could imagine her now, methodically doing her chores, while Zanna played in her skirts as she used to.

  He spun away from the sight of the city to look at the land before them. From here to the river were just shrubs and short grasses. On the other side of the river were grasses at least as tall as Win himself. No paths were visible, only endless grass. The drought had struck here, too, but the prairie reacted merely by going dormant a bit earlier than usual. The wind ruffled the sea of golden grass and carried the smell of prairie. It pleased him: dried grasses, wildflowers and wild herbs, all tangled into a dusty sweetness.

  Win pointed, “The Finding leads there.”

  Lady Kala protested, “If we enter the grasses, we’ll be lost.”

  Win turned to stare at her. Did she still doubt his Finding? No, rather, she hated the following, hated her own blindness in this quest.

  She whirled away from him. “That I heard. We must rest, and then we must eat before journeying again. At least for my skills in hunting, I am needed.”

  “My Lady, I am glad for your company, too.” Win was surprised that it was true. At first, he’d thought she would be a soft, pampered creature. Instead she was fascinating: fierce, headstrong, moody, and noble.

  “And I’m glad for your company. I’ve never had dealings with peasants before, and you are a surprise.”

  Win laughed “Not a peasant, but a guildsman, a Wayfinder.”

  “Ah, thank you for correcting me. I shall remember.” Then she turned and looked over the countryside again. “Where shall we rest this day?”

  After a dry meal of jerky and a drink from the river, they found a thicket of azalea and witch hazel growing along the river and made a bed of soft grasses. In spite of Win’s sore muscles, he thought they should keep watch in case the people of this land found them. But weariness won; they slept.

  The shadow of the willow tree stretched out toward the tiny, smokeless fire Win had built. He laid another stick on the flames and set a pot of water on to boil. He looked at the shadow again; it was closer. They should be moving instead of taking time to hunt and eat. Lady Kala had insisted, though, saying they would be stronger and travel faster with full bellies. How much longer before she would return? The willow’s shadow now touched the flames.

  The sunset was coral streaked with purples against a turquoise sky: their third sunset since the journey began, the third sunset since Prince Reynard had collapsed from the plague.

  “Come on, Lady Kala. Hurry!” Win shouted the words telepathically, hoping she was close enough to hear them.

  Now the willow shadow crossed over the stone fire and touched Win’s sandals. He clenched his fist. “Hurry!” he called again.

  “I’m coming!”

  Finall
y! “Did you hunt well?”

  “We feast tonight. I found a herd of tiny deer and brought one for our supper.”

  Win groaned. A deer! It would take an hour or more to gut it and cook it.

  “It’s a very small deer, smaller than I. Not much bigger than the jackrabbit.” Lady Kala sounded offended. “Hunting is the only thing I have to offer, and you despise it.”

  “No, Lady. It’s just the time that worries me. The Finding calls me.”

  She pranced into the small clearing, carrying a deer in her powerful jaws. Win pulled a knife out of his pack and began to dress the deer.

  “Win.” Lady Kala’s voice warned him that something was wrong.

  He looked up. “What–”

  Four sets of bows and arrows were aimed straight at them.

  THE WARRIORS

  “Is this your animal? What is it? Not a wolf. Where did you get it and where can I get more?”

  A woman with deep blue eyes stared at Lady Kala with a predatory brilliance. Her stance was lopsided; on her right leg and angry red scar ran down her calf to her ankle. Something had ripped her leg open, and it hadn’t healed right.

  None of the warriors, for they all were armed with bows and knives, paid attention to Win. They only stared at the Tazi hound. The woman who spoke wore a sleeveless linen shirt and knee breeches made of skins like the deer Win was skinning. Leather strips held her braided hair, which was golden like the grasses dried by the sun and drought. The others wore sleeveless linen shirts and loose linen trousers like Win’s.

  Win rose quietly and stood beside Lady Kala. Hazel had been here before, and her name had been a kind of password with Paz Naamit. He decided to introduce himself and hope for similar results. “Allow me to present Lady Kala, royal gazehound from the Jamila Kennels in G’il Dan. We bring greetings from King Andar, King of all the Heartland that lies east of the Great Rift.”

  Now the warriors looked at Win.

  “Across the Rift?”

  “Impossible!”

  “You lie!”

  “Quiet!” The huntress silenced them. “And you are?”

  “I am Winchal Eldras, Wayfinder and guildsman from G’il Rim, son of Hazel and Eli Eldras.”

  Her bright blue eyes narrowed, and she stood a little straighter. “King Andar and Finder Hazel?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is indeed our lucky day. A gazehound who hunts as skillfully as a wolf and the son of an old enemy.”

  Did she say wolf? Win groaned. This must be the Wolf Clan! Hazel was their enemy? Of course. Hazel said she had stolen the amulet.

  The huntress motioned with her bow. “Tie his hands, and bind his mouth. We will take him to the Council.”

  Win fought, as did Lady Kala. One burly warrior threw himself at Lady Kala. She leapt also and met him in midair. She bounced off his massive chest and fell heavily, stunned for a moment. The warrior merely shook his head and went for her again.

  “Wait, Hulda. Catch.” The huntress threw him a strip of bright copper, which he clapped around the gazehound’s neck.

  Win barely glimpsed Lady Kala’s fight because the other two warriors had attacked him. He clutched the knife he had been using to skin the deer. He crouched and waited for their rush. The first to run at him was a young girl, probably his age or younger, who had yellow hair like the older woman. He danced out of her reach, unwilling to knife someone so young. As he moved, the other warrior, a brawny man with long arms, slipped behind him and slapped his ear. He fell, wondering if Lady Kala had been hit, too.

  When he woke, he found he was lying on his back, trussed up like a pig about to be slaughtered. His ankles and wrists were bound, a rag was shoved into his mouth like the apple in a pig’s mouth. He was in a hut, still close to the prairie from the smell of grasses, possibly in a village of the Wolf Clan. Besides the prairie, he could smell a cook fire; from the aroma, they were probably roasting the deer Lady Kala had caught. But that was all he could tell.

  He was alone in the darkness.

  THE COUNCIL

  Win woke to the sound of drums beating a slow cadence. Boom! Boom! Boom! It was dawn, and Hulda and another guard came for him. He had dozed fitfully throughout the night, chafing at his captivity. They had lost a whole day’s travel, and who knew how much longer before he could escape? The Prince needed the healing water, or it would soon be too late.

  The guards untied Win’s feet and pulled him upright, and he realized the amulet was missing. Someone had taken it while he slept. They left his hands tied, his mouth gagged, as they pushed him outside the hut.

  In the soft morning light they followed the drumbeat and led him along a row of mud-and-wattle thatched roof houses, where tall, fair people stood in their doorways. Win sniffed. Something smelled off. What was wrong with the village? Then he knew. It wasn’t the aromas, but the absence of them. There were no early morning cooking fires, no porridges, no stews, no teas, no breads. This was a tidy village, but the people were thin, and every child wore a look of hunger.

  Something else, too. Win thought the villagers were afraid of him as if he were dangerous. Where his shadow struck, they shrank back. Only after he passed did families fall in line behind his guards. They followed on silent feet, like hunters stalking dangerous prey.

  At the end of the row of houses was a large pavilion with open sides. Large timbers supported a thatched roof. In G’il Rim most buildings were made of stone, and any big timbers had to be brought by caravan from the forests in the north of the Heartland. He guessed that the village had traded with a distant land for such large timbers.

  Beyond the pavilion, growing in a few patches, were cornstalks too short for the season and scraggly bean vines. Squash plants were limp even though the day had just begun. Everything needed to be weeded and watered. Between the pavilion and the gardens, the village’s well, rimmed with river rock, was surrounded by children holding various pots or buckets.

  Win was escorted to the pavilion and shoved to the front. Two long, hollow logs had a translucent skin stretched tightly across them to form a drum. Four women with skinny arms beat on the drums with long bones. On a raised dais, sitting on low leather chairs, were two women. The huntress who had captured him was on the right, wearing her skin breeches and a large necklace made of rows and rows of pearly shells. The necklace was so long that it fell to her waist and clattered gently whenever she moved. A tiny boy darted up and added a sunflower blossom to the pile at her feet. The huntress patted his head before he dashed away, then tucked the sunflower behind her ear.

  On the left was another woman with dark brown hair that was curled tight and short, like a black sheep’s wool. Green eyes glowed as she followed Win’s progress to the front of the assembly. Like most of the observers, she wore a sleeveless linen shirt and linen trousers. A short shell necklace identified her as second-in-command.

  Lady Kala lay between the two women. Her head rested on her front paws, and her eyes were black and dull. What had they done to her?

  Win lunged forward, trying to reach the Tazi hound, but a guard stuck out a foot and tripped him. He fell on his shoulder and would have cried out in pain except for the gag in his mouth.

  “Lady Kala, have they hurt you?” Win screamed the words telepathically.

  She didn’t look up or answer. She simply ignored him.

  Win struggled into a kneeling position. For long minutes the two women stared at Win. He returned their stare, refusing to back down. Finally the green-eyed woman broke off and motioned to a guard to remove Win’s gag. The slow drumbeat ceased as well.

  Win licked his lips and worked his jaw for a moment. Then he demanded, “What have you done to Lady Kala?”

  The green-eyed woman spoke. “I am Valda, and this is my sister, Siv, who currently rules the Wolf Clan. The hound is no longer yours. She now hunts for the Wolf Clan.”

  “You must let us both go. You have done only evil for your clan by capturing us.”

  A surprised murmur r
ose from the crowd. But Siv smiled and raised a hand. “Let him speak. He can’t hurt me with his lies.”

  “It’s not a lie. Three days ago, a caravan arrived in our city of G’il Rim. Lady Kala and her master, Prince Reynard, who is brother to King Andar, were with the caravan. The Prince brought a tale of great sorrow. G’il Dan, our capital city, is beset with plague.”

  “Plague!” Valda blurted the word. “Have you brought the plague to our village?”

  The crowd clamored angrily.

  “I would have avoided your village if I’d been given the choice. Before I could speak, though, Lady Kala and I were taken captive.”

  “Sister! What have you done?” Valda cried.

  Siv sat up with a straight back. She extended her scarred leg straight forward as if to say she had fought for her clan, and Win had been an easy enemy to defeat. “Then we will kill the son of Hazel and be done with it. We’ll burn his body, and that will kill the plague, too.”

  “Then you must also kill and burn Lady Kala.” Win gambled they wouldn’t be willing to kill the gazehound who could fill their bellies with meat.

  “No!” Siv said.

  “Yes, because Lady Kala came from G’il Dan itself, and she must surely carry the sickness.” He held up his hands. “But there is no reason to kill either of us. Let us look for the Well of Life, and we will return and add its water to your wells before we take it to our own land.” He stared at Valda, who seemed to be sympathetic.

  “Lies!” Siv cried. “The plague, the Well–all lies. You only want the gazehound back, and that I won’t give you. Not until she has hunted for us for a year.”

  “Why do you need her to hunt for you?”

  The huntress eyed him carefully as if deciding which weapon to use on this prey. “Son of Hazel, you should know.”

  Win stood up awkwardly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “You lie!”