Black Bead: Book One of the Black Bead Chronicles (11 page)

A fernhen clucked somewhere downhill, a welcome distraction, and Cheobawn lifted her nose to catch its scent. Hens meant eggs. She loved eggs. She turned and scrambled down the scree, putting distance between herself and the unease that clung to the tall spire.

Someone was shaking her arm. She opened her eyes. Tam was crouched over her.

Sleeping? Really!
he signed, a look of astonished disbelief on his face.
This is not a stroll through the garden. We can relax later,
his fingers scolded.
 

Cheobawn sat up and scrubbed her hands roughly over her face. Had she fainted? Had it been a dream?

Where is the treebear?
she queried with the flick of a finger. Tam looked over his shoulder and clicked softly. Alain was flat on his belly peering over the edge. He looked up at the sound. Tam repeated her question.
 

Gone down into the trees, headed into the swamp,
Alain signed. Cheobawn rose to her knees and looked over the side. It was truly gone. Once again, Luck had smiled upon them.
 

She turned and considered each member of her pack, biting her lip. Whether a dream or a prescient vision, her foray out to the edge of the world had told her one thing. She signed at Tam and Megan to watch the sky. She touched their bladed sticks and pointed up to reinforce that idea. Then she turned to Connor.

Are you hurt?
she signed.
 

It is nothing,
he signed back. She did not believe him, but she also did not believe he was trying to be stoic. He was angry with her.
 

Liar,
she signed.
Show me.
 

Connor scowled at her and then reluctantly answered.

Wet boots,
he signed with a grimace.
 

Explain,
she signed, puzzled. They all had wet boots. The liners were designed to compensate for that.
 

Sore foot,
he signed with a shrug. She frowned at him. It was surely more than just being footsore. She calculated the distance left to go, calling up Tam’s map to compare it with her own internal map. It was still far. Too far. Doubly far if one of them was lame.
 

Show me,
she insisted.
 

No. I will be alright,
he signed with an angry flick of his fingers.
 

She reached for his boot. Connor tried to bat her hands away but Tam reached out and caught hold of his wrist.

Follow orders,
the older boy signed. Connor pressed his lips together to contain his anger and then unlaced one of his boots. Cheobawn helped him pull it off. What she saw gave her pause.
 

Where is your liner?
she signed with a sinking feeling.
 

Lost. At the pool,
he signed.
 

The boots were cut big to accommodate the thickness of the liner. Without it, the foot had a tendency to slip around a lot inside the boot, causing abrasions and blisters. Soaking the foot and the leather in water exacerbated the problem a thousand fold. The sole of his foot, the back of his heel and the bottom of every toe were solid blisters. Most of them had burst and now oozed pink fluid. It was like looking at raw meat.

It had not been a dream.

Why didn’t you say something?
she asked, letting her frustration show on her face.
 

You did not wait,
Connor signed, a look of angry accusation on his face.
You left me.
Without looking behind. What was I supposed to do?
Connor’s body shook with his outrage.
 

Tam touched Connor’s shoulder but the smaller boy shook his hand off, his eyes locked with hers.

She could not deny it. Connor knew even if Tam did not. She bit her lip against the words that wanted to spill out of her heart. She had forgotten him. At the pool. In the tubegrass grove. She had nearly left without him.

I was scared. It will not happen again. Promise,
she signed. Connor glared at her, unmollified. His anger was justifiable. She did not tell him she might have to break that promise again soon.
 

What can we do?
signed Megan
 

I can make it,
Connor signed, grabbing his boot.
Keep going.
 

No,
Cheobawn said. His foot would be a bleeding wound in another click. The smell of blood would have every predator on the mountain on their trail. She considered leaving him here and coming back for him but she knew he would not live to see the morning. There were sky hunters large enough to pluck grown treehoppers from the top of the forest canopy. What chance did a small boy have? They could stick together, try to hold the rock spire all night and hike out in the morning but the thought of that made her insides turn to water. More people than just this Pack would be dead when morning came. They needed to get back before the Fathers sent out search parties. The Fathers would not risk their lives for four foolish children, but they might be induced to come after her, Mora’s truedaughter.
 

Cheobawn looked around at the faces of her friends. Alain was in trouble, lips pale and eyes deeply shadowed. Tam, though not as bad, still looked a little green. Megan was the least impacted, physically, but her mental state kept her close to the edge of control. Cheobawn rubbed her forehead, trying to push back the ambient of the mountain that threatened to crush her.

Things were going wrong. The Luck was shifting. She had walked the world in treebear’s body. That blackout did not speak well of her own mental state. It had been so easy, leaping out her body, becoming that which could not be dominated. Dead easy. What if she left and never came back? Would they let the mountain take her body, thinking her dead? Her mind shied away from that unspeakable thought.

They had to get off this rock and keep going. She looked around. Surely there must be something around them that they could use to bandage his foot. Next time, she thought, we will bring extra liners and a medkit and trail rations that could be eaten on the go and day packs instead of gleaner baskets, even though the gleaner baskets could hold fragile things without crushing them. Fragile things like eggs.

Cheobawn looked up, grinning.

I am an idiot,
she said pulling off her pack. She pulled a handful of damp moss out of its depths and began arranging it into a foot shaped pad. She kept adding more and more moss until the thickness seemed right. Tam, understanding the point of her crafting, handed
her Connor’s boot. She slid the pad in and then added a little more around the edges, taking care to pad the toes. When it seemed right, she handed the boot back to Connor.
 

Connor tried to put it on. The pain made him moan. Resting had not helped his foot. It was starting to swell.

Cheobawn lifted her head to taste the ambient. Time was sliding away. She moved to take the boot but Tam grabbed it first. He shoved Connor onto his back and grabbed his ankle.

Hold him down,
Tam signed at Megan.
 

Megan moved to kneel over Connor’s head, pressing his shoulders down onto the rock with all her weight.

Hold his knee,
Tam told Cheobawn. Cheobawn sat down and pulled Connor’s leg into her lap, his other knee pressed against her back.
 

Tam looked into Connor’s eyes and made sure he could see his fingers when he signed.

This will hurt. A lot.
 

Connor nodded.

The next two minutes were the worst of Cheobawn’s short life. Connor did not make a sound as Tam forced his foot back into the boot but Cheobawn could feel him stiffen and jerk with the pain. Cheobawn was crying when it was done, her tears matching those that streamed down Connor’s cheeks. The small boy lay, pale and trembling as Tam scooped the rest of the moss out of her pack and stuffed it tightly around Connor’s ankle. When he was satisfied, he tightened the laces, securing them again in the top of the boot.

Tight?
Tam’s fingers asked, his fingers catching at Connor’s attention. Connor sat up and rubbed the sweat out of his eyes and flicked a finger. Tam repeated his question.
 

Too tight,
Connor signed with a grimace.
 

Good,
Tam nodded,
No movement. No blood on the ground.
He used the hunter’s sign for an animal bleeding out, perhaps as a warning to Connor to remind him of his danger.
 

The others looked grim at that reminder. Good, Cheobawn thought, good to think such things when you are running for your life. She slipped her pack back on while she tested the threads of their future in her mind. One of the threads seemed promising. She slid over the edge and began the climb down.

Tam came next, leading Connor down as he tested the limits of his padded foot. He seemed to be more steady, the moss padding easing the pain a bit.

Alain came next. He lost a toe hold not far from the bottom and dropped the last two meters with Tam breaking his fall. Megan jumped down last. Cheobawn waited for them to sort themselves out. When she had their attention, she lifted her fingers.

Not far. Around two clicks,
she guessed.
 

None of them looked happy at the news. Two clicks might as well have been twenty. The rest on the spire had not helped them.

Cheobawn shook her head, looking away. There was nothing more she could do for them. The mountain wanted her attention.

She turned and ran.

Chapter Ten

The weight of their exhaustion beat at Cheobawn from behind. It began to influence her decisions. She closed her eyes and tried to find a path that would spare Alain and Connor anymore pain.

Following a thread that wound its way around the northern edge of a marshy bog, careful to keep them out of the sucking mud traps that lay under the pools of still water, she stepped one step too far down a thread that suddenly had no future. Cheobawn stopped and tried to find a place to go but all the threads of all their futures faded and died in her mind.

The world had turned into chaos.

She stood, swaying in the ambient winds, afraid to move. Her Pack stopped where they stood, grateful for the rest, their distress hanging in the air, pressing at her mind. She tried to block them out and clear her mind but her own exhaustion sucked at her will and clouded her mind.

She did not look around.
This is where pity gets you,
she thought. Trying to spare them, she had led them into a dead
end.
Cheobawn lifted her face towards the fading light, sank deeper into the flesh of the mountain, and listened.
 

Death stalks you,
the great mountain bear whispered. Her mind shied away from that, her heart fluttering in panic. They had stayed too long on the top of the stone spire. Now something bad had caught up with them.
 

Home Dome
she imagined with all her might into Bear’s chaos. But chaos had closed that door. Home Dome was unattainable.
No, no,
she thought,
we are so close. It cannot be far.
 

Two clicks, if that. Rested and healthy, they could be home in their beds by dark. But they were anything but rested.

Cheobawn turned to look at her friends. They looked haggard. She was surprised that Alain and Connor were still standing. Tam was helping Alain with his waterskin, insisting the boy drink. Connor swayed where he stood. He probably would have fallen but Megan had her arm around his waist, offering a steadying hand.

Drink, eat little,
Tam’s fingers flashed the order to everyone. Connor’s fingers fumbled clumsily as he reached for his water skin.
 

Cheobawn realized then that while she had been racing them across the mountain, Tam had been using every trick he knew to keep the Pack on their feet and on her tail. Had she trusted implicitly that he would figure out a way to keep his Pack alive?

She had assumed so much, a fools mistake, that. They should not have lived so long yet here they were. But to what purpose? They were about to die. Was it cowardice or arrogance that made her think she could defy the will of the Goddess, running them to the ends of their strength, having only postponed the inevitable? She wanted to cry.

Tam felt her eyes on him and looked up. He saw something in her face

What is wrong?
he asked.
 

Cheobawn bit her lip. Would it be kinder to let death sneak up on them or tell them now so that they might prepare? Her eyes sought Megan’s. The older girl was looking at her, an odd stillness on her young face.

What do you see?
signed Megan, though Cheobawn was certain she already knew the answer.
 

I am blind. The way forward is gone,
Cheobawn signed.
 

Clarify,
snapped Tam’s fingers.
 

We move, we die. We stay here, we die. Something is wrong,
Cheobawn signed.
 

Tam shook his head, refusing to accept that as an answer. Cheobawn looked at him helplessly.

Listen,
Megan signed, catching their attention.
Something comes at us from behind.
 

Why didn’t you say so before?
Tam’s fingers asked.
 

The way forward was always more deadly. Sorry,
Megan grimaced.
We were outrunning it until now.
They both turned an inquiring looked at Cheobawn.