Norton, Andre - Anthology (35 page)

 
          
 
"I understand all that. But if they do
locate something of value, I must claim it for our people! They seem like such
decent people. Would it be right to injure them?"

 
          
 
"Yes, and their 'decent' ancestors with
their greed took our land, our livelihood, and would destroy our very soul in
their greed. Greed is their god. They always take, take and never give. The mystery
of No Goes is ours! Whatever it is, we will keep for our children!"

 
          
 
"I obey, Grandfather. But why do I feel
like the Christian's Judas Iscariot in all of this? Think well: It might take
an 'accident' to cover a theft. Can any treasure be worth four lives?"

 
          
 
"That, my son, you must decide if we find
the answer to the questions put by our songs. Maybe time has chosen for us and
nothing of value is left in the dead village."

 
          
 
As Longwolf slipped out the door, a shadow
detached itself from an overhead rafter and followed him down the street. From
now on, the man would have more than his conscience watching over him.

 
          
 
The family was eating another hearty breakfast
and looking forward to Will Longwolf's return. If the Old One could not produce
a possible village for them, all their work so far would have been in vain.

 
          
 
The waiter looked down at Racky and grinned.
"I sure wish your pet would have been in here last night! We had a
porcupine walk in from the street and bite a customer at the bar right oil his
hand! I bet your cat could have run him off."

 
          
 
No thank you. My tribe has nothing to do with
the walking pincushion tribe/ And from the flattened ears on his head, you could
see he really meant it.

 
          
 
Will Longwolf entered then, from the smile on
his face they knew he had been successful.

 
          
 
"Good morning, my friends. The Old One
remembered a much-told story about a village that took in a

 
          
 
Yankee sailor and his strange pet. Some
sickness broke out and the only survivors were those who abandoned their homes.
The village carver, to record the incident, carved an image of the cat on their
clan totem. Across the years it has been a place to be avoided. It is called No
Goes now, for no one ever goes there."

 
          
 
"Mr. Longwolf,"
Alice
said. "One thing still puzzles me. Why
should those people feel obligated to take in and care for a total
stranger?"

 
          
 
That's my
Alice
, purred Racky, thinking like a cat again!

 
          
 
"Try to understand our culture.
Everything here is so spread out and, at times difficult, that we all must help
each other just to survive. Then, too, we have another Potlatch story about a
village that labored two years to carve a totem pole as tall as an eight-story
building. They enlisted the help of a Yankee ship that loaned them rope and
pullys. Even with the sailors' help, it took three days to erect the pole.
Haidas never forget to repay a debt. Are you ready to go looking for a lost
village? I think, from the Shaman's directions, I can get you within easy
walking distance."

 
          
 
The little cabin cruiser had been a day and a
half getting to the mouth of the stream that was supposed to flow past the
village
of
No Goes
. The night before while they had been
anchored in the
Picktot
River
,
Alice
and the children had slept in the small
cabin, while Racky had spent the night on deck with the two men. Now he assumed
a place on the bow of the boat where he could watch the little fish scooting
around in the crystal clear water.

 
          
 
As they cruised slowly up the narrow, unnamed,
stream, Jim spoke softly to Longwolf..

 
          
 
"At times like these, I get to thinking
that this is the way the Creator intended us to live, and not in our rat-race
cities!"

 
          
 
"Connors, friend, you may have a white
man's body, but you have the Indian's heart," Longwolf replied softly.

 
          
 
As they rounded a curve in the stream,
Longwolf grasped Jim's shoulder and pointed. "Look, by the big cedar tree,
I think that is the remains of No Goes!"

 
          
 
The little party made their way ashore with
Racky in the lead. Near the stream were several walls of piled-up rock where
large oceangoing canoes could have been sheltered. Nearby were ruins of racks
where fishing gear could have been stored, or animal hides spread out for
drying. Two large piles of ruins were where two lodges had once stood. But
between them the clan totem still stood tali and straight. Not a sign of color
was on the pole now, just weather-worn carvings. On the very top was carved a
cat, back arched, right forepaw extended in a threat. How many times they had
seen Racky in that pose!

 
          
 
Jim looked at Longwolf and laughed. The Haida
looked at him in puzzlement.

 
          
 
"When I first saw that pole, I was
tempted to take it home with me and give it a new paint job. But how could
anything that big be moved that far? I guess it belongs right where it
is," Jim said.

 
          
 
Always practical,
Alice
replied, "We can still take it home
with us in a picture. Mr. Longwolf, would you mind taking a picture of the five
of us standing by it?"

 
          
 
Racky was content with staying in Sue's arms
while the picture was taken. Then, with a yowl, he was out of her arms and
racing up the pole.

 
          
 
'T bet he's going to the top to pick a fight
with that wooden one on top. Stupid ol' cat," Tommy said.

 
          
 
And it looked like Tommy was right, for the
big cat began digging at the carved cat with his razor-sharp claws, all the
time yowling his fiercest war cries.

 
          
 
"Has the animal gone mad?" Longwolf
asked.

 
          
 
"No," Jim replied, "but there
is something up there that cat wants. I'm for giving him a hand."

 
          
 
The two men rolled a piece of log over near
the totem pole. When Racky saw them coming to help, he promptly came down to
the ground.

 
          
 
"Easy, friend Connors, that log's pretty
rotten. Let me brace it before you stand on it."

 
          
 
Carefully the big man began working his way up
the pole. He locked his legs around it and began chipping away at the base of
the cat carving. "What do you know! This cat's only stuck on top with its
legs in drilled holes.

 
          
 
Watch out below, I've got it loose and I'll
toss it to the ground!"

 
          
 
But the shock of landing on the hard ground
was too much for the weathered wood. It split open down the middle, revealing a
hollowed-out place in the body cavity. In the cavity was a small leather pouch,
dry and brittle.

 
          
 
"Friend Connors, it's your discovery. You
should have the honor of opening it!" Was Longwolf thinking of germs,
demons, or both?

 
          
 
Carefully, Jim used his knife to slit open the
brittle bag. Carefully, he shook the contents into his left palm. A gasp of
surprise went around the group. Only Racky did not seem surprised; he just
arched his back and rubbed against
Alice
's leg.

 
          
 
In Jim's palm was a large blue gemstone that
flashed with an inner fire. "What is it?" he asked in wonder.

 
          
 
"It's a star sapphire," replied
Alice
. "I saw one in a museum once. Some
were used to decorate Oriental idols. That must have been what Captain Morgan's
Malay was carrying....

 
          
 
"Jim, I don't want to keep it. It would
mean wealth to us that could ruin us. We have everything we need to make us
happy, I fear that shining thing could be a curse on us!"

 
          
 
"
Alice
, friend Longwolf said the Haidas always
paid a debt back. Let's show him the Connors have long memories also. Over a
hundred years ago these Haidas risked all to help a sick sea captain. It is
only just that their descendants should have this stone to preserve their
culture."

 
          
 
Longwolf looked as if he couldn't believe his
ears.

 
          
 
"You mean you would give this priceless
treasure to the Haida people?" he said in amazement.

 
          
 
"Why not. We had the fun of finding it.
And, without the Old One's directions, we never would have found No Goes. Maybe
you'd better include him in the foundation you will be setting up."

 
          
 
"Foundation?"

 
          
 
"Or a trust fund to preserve Haida
culture," said
Alice
.

 
          
 
That's my
Alice
, purred Racky proudly.

            
Lyn McConchie runs a
small farm in
New Zealand
. She became a professional writer in 1990
and since then has sold short fiction in five countries. She has also written
historical novels, a nonfiction book about the amusing incidents that take
place on her farm, and most recently her Witch World collaboration with Andre
Norton, The Key of the Keplian, which was published in the
United States
in July, 1995.

            
In the short silent
summer heat the cubs lay in a circle. The old Dravencat smiled down at them. By
the Lady Pasht, they were a fine Spring Borning. She was proud of her
bloodline. Old, old when first the two-legs began to appear in the foothills.
It was strange, though, every few generations it seemed one of her line would
become involved with them. Ah well, No harm had ever come of it to date; she
would fese'rve judgment. Below her rock the cubs were clamoring for a story.
Her grin widened, showing teeth savage as the rock spires among which they
laired.

            
Bright stories of
jests and tricks for the dark. But this was a young day, bright in promise. She
nodded slowly to herself. Let them know that not all was safety even for the
Dravencats. Not even for those who were great hunters, powerful beyond most of
the World. She would tell them the tale of Many Kills, grand-dam, wanderer,
warrior. She rested her head on huge paws considering. Then she lifted her
voice and began.

 
          
 
Many Kills had walked the high hills from the
time of her cubhood. Like another before her, she had always found the doings
of the two-legs interesting. Often she would slip to the edge of a clearing.
Watching as they performed odd and peculiar actions for no reason she could
understand. But it was their cubs she liked. They were small and merry,
quick-moving with soft light voices that drew her. One in particular seemed to
attract her attention. Blonde as Many Kills was golden-furred. She even
imagined more than once that the child was aware of her. Impossible of course.
No two-legs knew when a Dravencat spied.

 
          
 
The two-legs den was large in her terms, but
not for the two-legs. They always seemed to be adding another piece. Another
room in which to lair. Each time they added to the wall about the den also. She
wondered idly what it was they feared. She groomed herself as she watched. A
Dravencat was clean. It would not be right for one who was intelligent to be
less. Then her eyes opened as a movement caught her eye. Below, a group of
strange two-legs approached. They slunk through the brush, the curved killing
sticks in their hands.

 
          
 
She rose a little to see as they emerged from
their cover. That had been done well—and cleverly. They were through the gate,
and from inside she could scent the blood as it flowed. She settled again. The
affairs of the two-legs were their own concern and none of hers. The stink of
blood, fear, rage, and pain intensified and with a disgusted snort she
departed. But as she went, she wondered ever so faintly. What of the female cub
it had pleased her to watch? But two-legs doings were for them. She silenced
the voice as she padded away.

 
          
 
Nurse had put me to bed early because of some
prank. I'd been furious with her. After all, I was nine now and too old to be
treated as a baby. But when the shouting started, I forgot my claimed adulthood
and ran for her bedroom. We huddled together as the noise came closer. A
compound of oaths, cries of pain, and the clash of arms. Mother and Father
would be with my two younger brothers. I had scurried up a flight of stairs to
reach Nurse. Now the rest of my family was two floors below.

 
          
 
I'd heard Father say that the site would be
impregnable one day. We'd built into the side of a cliff with deep caves. Each
month we added another room below and the whole building was shaped as a kind
of half pyramid. Several rooms below, half as many atop them, and others atop
those in turn. One day we'd have a real fortress. It couldn't be too soon for
Mother. We'd left enemies behind us. I clutched Nurse in terror as the sounds
moved to right outside our door. These mysterious enemies must have found us.
Any moment now, they would break down the door and we'd die.

 
          
 
The heavy wood door crashed open, and I
screamed at the sight of the man who glared from the doorway. He was tall with
dark hair and an old scar searing its way across one cheek. But far worse was
the miasma of evil I sensed coming from him as he posed there. Nurse flung me
behind her, facing him with a courage I had not known fat old Tellda to
possess.

 
          
 
"What do you want?"

 
          
 
"The girl."

 
          
 
"NO!" I think she thought only of
rapine and murder.

 
          
 
"Yes. Oh, do not worry, old woman. I
don't plan to harm her." Something in his voice told me that was both
truth and lie. "You may even stay with her if you make me no
trouble." His face twisted into utter savagery. "Make trouble and
you'll -die—in front of her—and slowly. But you can stop fearing for her
virtue. I have no liking for children." I felt the lechery smoking from
his mind as he spoke. If not me, then who? Surely not Nurse?

 
          
 
It was neither, but I had not been wrong. Once
the battle was over, he chose my cousin. I'd never much liked her. She was five
years older and spiteful. I looked for my parents to protect her as she was
dragged screaming to our conqueror. Greatly was I bewildered when they did not
appear. I knew not to make myself noticeable, so I only whispered.

 
          
 
"Nurse, what is he going to do? Why don't
Mother and Father stop him?" I stared up pleadingly as tears flowed down
my face. “Why don't they help her?" My voice was becoming louder as I grew
more frightened. Our new master heard and laughed.

 
          
 
"You have my permission to show her her
parents, old woman. But for now, keep her mouth stopped. I have other
business.” I saw no more. Nurse clasped me against her skirts, folding them
about me as if the stout cloth could insulate me from all evil. But it did not.
I heard the shrieks, felt the terror and pain. I even knew when Lais became
mercifully unconscious. After that I was obedient. I did not know what it was
he did want of me. But I would do anything if only it be not that.

 
          
 
For several weeks I walked like a dreamer.
Somewhere inside of me, I knew my parents and smaller brothers were dead. Lais
also who had hanged herself that night. Nurse did her best, but I could
scarcely eat. I was insulated within myself, curling ever tighter around the
core of me. Without, the body slowly failed as I lost weight and strength. But
within I burned ever brighter. I was like a signal beacon tended high on a
hill. The growing bodily weakness only fueled my inner fire. I howied silently
into the darkness, cried for aid. For a rescuer and vengeance. But no one
heard, no one came.

 
          
 
The Summer was good, the prey fleet. But at
length I wished to return to the two-legs den. To see what had happened since
another had stolen their lair. As I approached. I could feel it. A kind of
crying in the air. It was weak, untrained, but I recognized it as a thread of
power. In the Shrines of our Bright Lady whom the two-legs worship as Pasht.
the Priestesses can call like that, though rheir mindcry is far stronger. Yet,
as I listened, I recognized the caller. It was the small blonde cub. There was
something in the feel of the plea that told me this. I moved to windward.
Through the breeze I could scent her grief and anger.

 
          
 
I turned away. Two-legs! What had I, Many
Kills, Dravencat of the High Hills, to do with two-legs cubs? I hunted, slept,
and told tales to importunate cubs of our clan. Casually, I discussed the loss
of the two-legs den to others of their kind. My own agreed. It was none of our
affair. But I was drawn back to watch. She lived, well enough. But as I
returned again and again it came to me that she weakened. I became irritated
with myself. She was no cub of mine. It was true that once very long ago a
daughter of her line and another of mine had been—friends is not quite the
word. Perhaps they could be termed comrades.

 
          
 
I recalled the tale. Perhaps it could be said
that my blood yet owed a portion of the debt. I would not say so. Still it
would do no harm to keep a nose to the trail. I did so as the Summer passed.
The cub's scent told me that she weakened still but also that none harmed her.
Then the new two-legs began to walk my hills. At first I suspected nothing. It
is the nature of their kind to wander, it seems. But at length I grew
irritated. Everywhere I went, one of them appeared to be already there. What
they did, I knew not. But this I knew—they meant no good. There was that about them
which signaled this.

 
          
 
But how should I have known the evil they
intended? How should any of us? A cub vanished. Its dam would have torn the
very hills to find the small one, but no trace of him was discovered. After
him, another. A female this time. After that there was a lull. I was
suspicious. Nothing like this had ever happened until the arrival of these new
two-legs. Could the disappearance of the cubs be some evil of the incomers? I
began to prowl on moonless nights. Two-legs are blind then, and without noses
at any time. J was swift enough in my fears to scent something * Afi traces of
the female cub had not yet been swept away by winds and time.

 
          
 
SO! They had taken her for some purpose. But I
scented that she was either dead or there no longer. I would speak to my clan
on this. Never before had the two-legs interfered with the Dravencats. We were
the children of the Bright Lady. Loved and protected by Her whom they also
worshiped. Then the cubs were found.

 
          
 
Unharmed but with memories wiped clean of
where they had been or what had been done to them. It was observed that they
appeared weak. Still they were ours again. Perhaps I had been wrong. The scent
had been very faint. The two-legs here might not have been to blame—but I
wondered. They yet held the blonde cub I had liked. They were not completely
innocent.

 
          
 
I had been in the hands of the bad man for
almost two months now. I still did not know what it was he wanted of me, but I
was yet unharmed. Nurse protected me from the sights and sounds of a defeated
people as much as she might. But I was growing wise. I saw the bruises on the
faces of the girls I had known. The blank horror in their eyes. It made me fear
all the more. I must be kept safe for worse. I started to learn deliberately. I
think it was in my mind that if there was no one coming to save me, then I must
save myself—and Nurse, too.

 
          
 
My father had been a prudent man. Our
conqueror thinking that because the Keep was only half-built there would be few
secrets had not attempted to find any. He was wrong. Already within the double
walls passages ran from cellars to upper rooms. Stairways within the two great
chimneys wound down to doors behind panels. The escape tunnel had not been
completed. I could not escape the Keep. But unbeknown to our Master, I had the
run of far more within than he dreamed. I watched like a rat within walls—and I
learned. At nights I talked my gleanings over with Nurse until I saw how it
frightened her. Then I ceased to talk, but continued to watch and listen.

 
          
 
The Master was called Tromar by his followers.
Out of earshot they had other names. Some admiring, others crude beyond my
understanding. Like most of our bloodline, the custom held of teaching
girl-children the arts of bow and sword. Even when my Father had broken away
from his kin to the East and taken our small group farther West than any had
ever been. That custom had remained. He said it had been held by the First Lady
of our Cadet House. There were tales about her. They said she'd been friends
with a Dravencat, but that I could not believe. The Children of Pasht stand
aloof from our kind.

 
          
 
I had never even seen one of them. Though
there had been many times as I played outside our walls that I had felt eyes
upon me. I had daydreamed more than once that it was one of the great
golden-furred ones. A possible friend and comrade to walk with me. I dreamed
even more when my brothers had been more annoying than usual. But it was only a
child's dream, I knew that. Now was the reality of a defeated people. Mine!
They had begun to talk to me. As if just telling me small things would help
them. I could only listen, but it did seem to aid in some way.