Crisis at Sorrow's End
Part Two
Windkin found Ahdri in their house, trying on the new side-vented trousers and midriff-baring tunic, woven of a thick cloth that was reinforced with heavy stitching and raised designs. He had to give Ahnshen credit – even on short notice the weaver melded form and function with his usual grace.
“Ahdri?”
“I need new sandals. These ones flop about too much. I can’t run in them.”
“Run in them? Ahdri, please, talk to me. What’s happening to you?”
She turned around. “What, Windkin?”
He held out his hand. “Come on, sit down, and take a breath. Scouter’s right. You’re rushing into things. The other day you were despairing that you couldn’t do enough. Now you seem to think you can do everything! You’ve changed so much – what.... what’s happening?”
She crossed her arms defensively. “The other day I didn’t know what I could do. Now I do. I don’t see any difference.”
He gestured wildly at her new clothes, her hair. “You don’t?”
“You don’t like me like this. You preferred the doll.”
“This... this anger–”
“Frustration, Windkin! Frustration – at – at finding myself waking from a dream – a dream I thought was my life!”
“Your life is not a dream. Didn’t you stop to think that this – this is the dream?”
“Augh!” she exclaimed, turning on her heel and stalking out of the hut. Windkin stood there a moment, his hand still extended. Then he hurried out after her.
He found her on the little ledge that surrounded their hut, her legs swinging out over the void. Windkin hung back a moment before he sat down next to her.
They sat in silence for several moments, watching the sun set and colour the sky in shades of pink and orange. At length it was Ahdri who broke the uncertain silence.
“Windkin, do you remember when we first starting sharing a hut? You wanted a place closer to the clouds. So I shaped this ledge, above the cliffs, as high as the Bridge of Destiny. And when you said you wanted me to live with you I left my room in Savah’s hut to join you.”
“Yes,” Windkin said guardedly. “Ahdri –I’m not sure how–”
“I have only lived in three huts in my long first. First lived with my mother until she died. Then I lived with Savah until you asked me to ‘tree’ with you. Now I live here. I have never lived in my own house. My whole life, I have been defined by others – by my ties to them. First... first I was Shua’s daughter, then I was Savah’s handmaiden, and now, I am Windkin’s lovemate. But I have never really been Ahdri. Who is Ahdri? Who am I, Windkin? Tell me.”
“You’re... a kind, and loving soul–”
“Who am I?”
“I don’t understand–”
“What pastimes do I enjoy in my free time? What is my favourite colour? What is my least favourite food? What are my dreams?”
“You – your favourite colour is gold. I don’t know if it’s your least favourite food, but I know you can’t stand raw meat. And you dream – you dream of being like Savah, of having that perfect serenity that comes from knowing so much – and especially from knowing yourself.”
“I dream of living up to my potential, whatever that may be. To use whatever gifts the High Ones gave me to best serve Sorrow’s End. I used to think – my potential would best be served apprenticing under Savah. Now, it appears rockshaping is my gift.”
“But... this ambition – this frustration, this hunger. Where is the calm gentle Ahdri I knew?”
“I would have thought you’d admire ambition, Windkin.”
“It’s not what I expected from you.”
She picked up a small pebble and threw it off the edge of the rock plateau. **Why did you wish to stay here in Sorrow’s End and court me, Windkin? Why did you want me? The truth – no falsehoods designed to flatter your pride and mine. Why me?**
Windkin considered it. At length he replied in sending. **A challenge, at first, I suppose. My lovemates before you – Yun... Spar – they’re... hot-blooded.** He laughed softly. **Wolfrider and Go-Back, what can you expect? And the few Sun Folk maidens I... encountered, well, they were just as... hungry in their own way. But you, you were different.**
**Cold-blooded?**
**No. But... different, distant. I couldn’t take my eyes of you, at the Festival of Flood and Flower, the year Behtia and Wing Recognized. You were always so concerned about Savah, or someone who couldn’t see the dances, or some little child who needed another cup of cider. You never seemed to give a care to your own pleasures. So... selfless. And while all the other maidens were dancing, or striking poses to entice the lads, you were quietly moving on the edge of the celebration, your head bowed a little. You never thought anyone might be looking at you.**
Ahdri nodded. “Yes. You’re right... I never did imagine. I was used to being...”
“Invisible.”
“Yes.”
“And I wanted to show you that you were far from invisible. I wanted to show you, how I saw you.”
“How do you see me?”
He touched a close-cropped curl. “Luminous, like a little chip of clearstone alight in the sun. So easily ignored by those who want larger, more dazzling jewels, but with a beauty that’s found by those who look more closely.”
“An ornament.”
He lowered his hand. “No. Never.”
“Yes. There’s no shame in it, Windkin. You saw me as a frail little flower you could nurture into a bloom, a shy Sun maiden you could, with patience and care, transform into a lovemate to your liking, one perhaps who combines the wisdom and serenity of Sorrow’s End with the... appetites of your Wolf maidens.”
Windkin bristled. “If that was the case, I’d be happier with this... transformation of yours.”
“I am deviating from the plan you had laid out for us. I am no longer what you expected me to be. You are quite like Rayek, you know, Windkin.”
“A fact I’m quite proud of.”
“And perhaps it was that drew me to you, Windkin. That brash, charming desire to control everything, to make the world yours. Your youthful hunger, your possessiveness – I was flattered by it, I admit.”
“Ahdri... why are you talking like this? Do you want to leave me?”
She continued to stare out at the sunset. “I don’t know. I think... I think when we return from this journey to Smoking Mountain, I will start work on my own hut. I think I need some time alone... to think about who I am... what I want.”
Windkin said nothing at first. The silence dragged on, growing more awkward with each heartbeat. At length he rose. “Well, if that’s what you want, perhaps there’s nothing to keep me here after all.”
He disappeared back into the hut. Ahdri remained outside, watching the stars come out.
The Jackwolf Riders prepared to ride out at dusk, to maximize the available travelling time. Hansha had a zwoot saddled and ready for riding as Grayling’s, Scouter’s, and Coppersky’s jackwolves played in the rocks. Wing and Dodia stood beside Savah’s hut, receiving last minute instructions from their chief.
“You two will lead the hunt until I return. Nothing fancy – bristle-boars and deer, just enough to feed the village. I don’t want to come back and here and find that you tried to take down a herd of zwoots or a big cat with only half your numbers. If Smoking Mountain blows, you are in charge of the evacuation. Get everyone into the caves. You can wait it out there until the Palace comes.”
Scouter and Leetah touched foreheads in a farewell embrace. When Scouter drew back he saw tears glistening in the healer’s green eyes.
“Be safe, Scouter,” she said. “I still think it a folly to go out there, courting danger.”
“You can still come with us, you know. We could use a healer on this wild zwoot chase.”
She shook her head. “I am the healer. My responsibilities lie with the village. If there is another rockslide, or ground-quake, more than one hunting party will need my talents. I... I am sorry to be so blunt.”
“No, you’re right. There are cubs and elders here.”
“Besides,” Leetah tried to lighten the mood. “Someone needs to keep Shushen in line.”
“Be safe, kitling,” Savah embraced Ahdri. “Your quest is unlike any other we have known. I can tell you know that this is more than a quest for water. There will never be an end to what you set in motion tonight, my many-times granddaughter. And you will never be the same again. This is your Bridge of Destiny, Ahdri, and I’ve no doubt you’ll conquer it.”
Ahdri felt new tears well in her eyes. **I wish I was as certain, Mother of Memory.**
“Here, kitling,” Savah withdrew a small dagger from the folds of her gown. “Something to keep you safe. And perhaps... to remember me by when the night seems its darkest.”
“How could I ever not think of you, Mother of Memory? And how could a knife remind me of your gentle beauty and wisdom?”
“Take it, child, so I know you will have a weapon in the wilds.”
Ahdri hugged Savah tightly. “Your lessons are the best weapon I could ever have,” she wept. “I’d never have the found the courage to attempt this without you.”
“Let’s go, everybody,” Grayling called. “The moons are up. Time to ride.”
“Shade and sweet water, kitling,” Savah said as Ahdri reluctantly turned towards the zwoot.
“Up you go,” Hansha said as he helped Ahdri climb into the saddle. He climbed up behind her as Ahdri fumbled with the reins. “Here, like this,” he said, reaching around and untangling the reins. “Really, rockshaper, I’m surprise you never learned to ride a zwoot before,” he teased.
“Why are you riding up here, anyway?” Ahdri asked wryly.
“Because Tawny is still too young to carry me and Grayling together through the desert heat.”
“And why are you even coming along?”
“Because I’m not letting Grayling go off on a quest without me. I know these Wolfriders, you give them one taste of adventure and they never settle again.”
“Saen!” Vurdah raced out to embrace her son one last time before he mounted Catspaw.
“Mother!” Coppersky extracted himself from her arms. “I’ll be fine.”
Ahnshen gently drew his lifemate away. But Vurdah held out her hand imploringly.
“No healer to look after you. All unprotected out there.”
“Don’t worry. Look, we’ve got Willowsnap with us, right?” The dark red Preserver buzzed around happily, then landed in Coppersky’s hair. “He – it can wrap up any little scratched knee or sprained ankle we get.”
“Of course it can,” Ahnshen said confidently. “See, Vurdah? They’ve planned for everything.”
“I don’t think wrapstuff will hold again hot ash!”
“Don’t waste your breath, Vurdah,” Leetah sighed. “These are Wolfriders.”
“My son is not a Wolfrider!”
“Jackwolf Rider,” Leetah corrected. “Just as hard-headed as their forest kin, I fear.”
Coppersky gave his mother one final hug, then sprang onto his jackwolf. Ahnshen slipped his arm around Vurdah’s shoulder as they watched the party ride away into the night.
The three jackwolves and lone zwoot left the rocks of Sorrow’s End behind them and crossed into the gravel and sand of the desert. Windkin flew overhead, scouting as best he could in the cold night. Ahdri tugged at the neckline of her woollen tunic as the wind picked up. Soon she was shivering in spite of herself.
“Why am I so cold?”
“You need a hat,” Hansha said. “Here.” He dug out a long wool scarf. “Without that all that thistledown you’ll lose all your warmth through your head.”
“Thanks,” Ahdri tied the scarf around her chin.
Grayling pointed to a low ridgeline of sandstone hills. “I want to make camp there at sunrise. We’ll sweat out the worst of the heat there, then continue on in the evening.”
“Pweeeeeeeeeeeetwedeeeee!” Willowsnap sang in the crisp night air.
“Oh, shut up, bug!” Coppersky moaned. “Or I’ll make you wrapstuff yourself.”
“Be nice to him, Coppersky,” Ahdri said. “I mean, it.”
“Chop-top highthing likes Willowsnap!” the Preserver took refuge atop Ahdri’s scarf.
“Didn’t I used to be ‘beesweets highthing?’”
“Wolfriders often take new names when their lives change suddenly,” Grayling said. “A new skill unearthed, a new journey undertaking. I don’t see why it should be different with Sun Folk – or Preservers for that matter.”
Ahdri glanced down at the chief. “Did you ever have another name?”
“No, I was my mother’s ‘little fish’ from the moment I was born.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand it,” Hansha said. “Changing names like changing clothes. Your name is – is your name! You can’t just change it.”
**Some names we don’t change, Hansha,** he sent, and Hansha smiled, his cheeks warming slightly as he thought of his lifemate’s soulname.
Then Hansha fell into a coughing fit behind Ahdri’s head. “Oh, sorry,” he stammered.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just the ash in the air, is all.”
The sun slowly rose as they reached the ridgeline. As light stretched across the Burning Waste, Ahdri saw Smoking Mountain grow from a vague shadow to an angry black beast, still belching smoke high into the pink sky.
“All right, let’s set up camp before the heat gets to us,” Grayling said. “First one to find us a nice rocky overhang where we can be shaded from sun and ash gets the prime cut of whatever game we catch.”
Scouter won the challenge, locating a crevice in between two large slabs of rock. There was just enough room for all six elves to sit under the overhanging rock. The rocks were covered with a fine gray dust. The elves coughed repeatedly as they brushed the ash away. Windkin made the mistake of brushing up a cloud of ash just as Coppersky gasped for breath, and the younger Jackwolf Rider was overcome with dry heaves.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Windkin fretted.
“Here, drink,” Grayling offered Coppersky the water gourd as he thumped his back. “Try to get a wet cough.”
“Then stop pummelling me,” Coppersky growled. He took a long swig of water then coughed and spat repeatedly. Out of breath, he collapsed next to Ahdri and continued to clear his throat loudly.
“Ooohh, fawn-eye highthing bellow-bellow much!” Willowsnap exclaimed.
“Stifle it, bug,” Coppersky murmured.
“You rest,” Grayling said. “Scouter and Windkin can help me hunt.”
“Oh, I’ll be all right–”
“Rest. You can lead the hunt tonight if you like. But this air is thick enough to choke, and I don’t want my best rider to ruin his lungs.”
“Thanks, chief,” Coppersky rasped.
“Ahdri, you and Hansha stay here. We’ll be back with whatever we can catch. A little fresh meat with that bread you packed should keep us on course.”
Ahdri sat herself down next to Coppersky. The youth obligingly rested his head in her lap.
Windkin growled under his breath. Ahdri allowed herself a wry smile. Even as their relationship hovered somewhere in the air, the jealous wolf in his rose up at any perceived challenge.
“Hunt the other kind of prey, Windkin,” Coppersky muttered wearily. “Always have, always will.”
“Just checking,” Windkin said.
“You must not have much regard for yourself if you’re always ‘checking.’”
Windkin muttered something unintelligible. Coppersky pointedly ignored him. Windkin gathered up his net and flew off to join Scouter and Grayling. Coppersky’s jackwolf paced at his elf-friend’s side, whimpering softly.
“Go on,” Coppersky said. “Go hunt. I’ll be fine without you.”
Catspaw padded off to join the others, and Hansha settled down next to Ahdri under the overhang. “They’ll be a while,” he said. “Grayling and Scouter will both insist on bringing down our morning meal.”
“We are talking about a ravvit, right?” Ahdri asked. “They aren’t going to come back bearing an entire bristle-boar for the six of us, are they?”
“Actually, that might work, we need to feed the jackwolves too.”
“I could eat a bristle-boar,” Coppersky remarked drowsily.
“You could eat a zwoot,” Hansha laughed.
“So why is that you can eat twice your weight in roast meat and still have skinnier arms than your mother?” Ahdri gave Coppersky’s bicep a pinch. Though he had seemed to have fallen half-asleep, he still had the strength to swat her hand, just hard enough to sting.
Ahdri dozed in the morning heat. Soon the hunters returned with a large bristle-boar, just as Hansha had predicted. Scouter claimed the rich liver, while Grayling eyed the haunches eagerly and Coppersky sulked.
“Um... Wolfriders – I’m not eating any of that until it’s burned to a crisp.”
“Are you a Sun Folk or a Go-Back?” Scouter laughed.
“I’m civilized.”
Scouter snorted. “Never heard of the word.”
“Obviously.”
“Enough,” Grayling said, though he smiled slightly. Between Scouter, Coppersky and Windkin, he had his hands full juggling combating moods.
“I’m afraid I agree with Coppersky,” Ahdri said. “Come, you have sparkrocks, don’t you?”
Scouter rolled his eyes. “You’ll turn us all soft.”
They lit a small fire with brush and twigs and roasted several small pieces for Coppersky, Hansha and Ahdri. Windkin, Grayling and Scouter were just as happy to eat their meat raw. The jackwolves polished off the rest. Some water and a few pieces of bread for those who cared for it and they lay down on the rocks as best they could to sleep the afternoon away.
Ahdri drifted off into dreams of a village fed by a overflowing well, and of yearly floods so precise in their timing that one could predict the time of day when the first rains would come. When she awoke it was late afternoon. Her legs, which had extended outside the shade of the overhang, were covered in a very fine ash.
The jackwolves were still sleeping, except Tawny, who was gnawing on a boar bone. Grayling and Windkin were both still asleep, and Coppersky was slowly waking up, moaning softly. Scouter was gone, as was Hansha. Ahdri crawled out from under the overhang and got to her feet. She could just see Scouter in the distance, his head and chest just visible above a gravel dune. From his posture she guessed he was relieving himself. She looked around and saw Hansha standing by their zwoot, his hand to its mouth.
Scouter returned to camp as Coppersky was pulling himself up from his bedroll. Windkin was still snoring softly.
**What’s Hansha up to?** Scouter asked.
**Probably feeding the zwoot some breadcrumbs.**
**Soft-hearted fool,** the tone was affectionate, though a little exasperated. **It’s a good thing we don’t rely on the bread alone. Doesn’t he know zwoots can go without food for moons if they must?**
**Of course he does,** Grayling’s sending broke into their conversation. They looked down and found their chief cracking one eye open. **“But just because they can doesn’t mean they have to.”** His sending carried Hansha’s own voice, and Scouter chuckled.
“He’ll give them all names before long.”
**He already has.**
Tawny began to growl low in her throat.
Scouter sniffed the air. “Do you smell something, Grayling?”
Grayling opened his other eye. “I might as well have a Sun Folk’s nose. What is it?”
“Cat-like... not unlike a... – mountain lion!”
Grayling sprang to his feet. “Hansha!” he shouted.
In the distance, Hansha turned and waved to his lifemate. He did not see, as Grayling and Scouter now did, the sand-coloured form moving stealthily between the rocks.
Scouter and Grayling raced forward, shouting and pointing. Hansha spun around just as the cat pounced. Even as the lion’s long claws extended, he twisted away from the zwoot, and the fatal blow to the back of the neck the cat had planned never fell. But the massive paw crushed down on his rib cage and drew three large stripes across his abdomen. The cat stumbled on the rocks as Hansha went down. It turned for the final blow, only to be confronted by a terrified zwoot. The lion darted forward, hoping to drag Hansha away, but the zwoot reared up threateningly, and the cat thought better of it.
“You get the zwoot!” Grayling snapped to Scouter. “I’ll take the lion!”
Scouter leapt on the zwoot’s back, and struggled to grab the bridle. Grayling leapt between the lion and Hansha, dagger drawn. The cat snarled, baring its white fangs.
Grayling growled, flashing his own sharp canines. The jackwolves arrived a moment later to flank their chief. The lion roared and swatted out with one massive paw. Spoiling for a fight, Tawny lunged at the lion, catching the paw in her jaws. The lion swung the other limb out and pinned the too-eager jackwolf to the ground.
Scouter and Coppersky’s jackwolves threw themselves on the cat’s back. Their jaws sunk into flesh and they pulled the lion off Tawny. The lion weighed four times as much as the jackwolves, and it shook Catspaw off its back. The lion reared back, snarling, paws right to strike. Something whistled in the air, and a dagger appeared in the lion’s thick neck. With a weak cry, the cat toppled over backwards and the wolves rushed in to finish the job.
Grayling looked over his shoulder and saw Coppersky crouched on the rocks behind them, his arm still extended out.
The attack had not lasted more than ten frantic heartbeats.
Grayling fell at Hansha’s side. The metalworker was moaning weakly, clutching his wounds.
“Shh, shh, let me look,” Grayling soothed. He eased Hansha’s bloodstained hands away and his heart sank at the sight of the three gashes. The wounds were not pumping blood, a small mercy, but the muscles were badly torn, and the impact of his fall had broken Hansha’s lower right-hand rib.
“Willowsnap!” he shouted. “Willowsnap, where are you!”
**Kel–**
“Shh, shh, you’re going to be fine,” Grayling gripped Hansha’s hand tight. “But we’re going to have to wrapstuff you.”
Hansha’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no, please!”
“It’s all right. You’ll be safe in a cocoon.”
“Not wrapstuff.” His skin was growing clammy. “Not the sleeping death.”
Willowsnap arrived and began to spit wrapstuff without delay. “It’ll be fine. It’s just like falling asleep,” Grayling insisted as Willowsnap wrapped Hansha’s feet tightly and flew up the length of his body. Hansha tried to twist his head to see, but Grayling kept his other hand on Hansha’s cheek, forcing the elf to look at him.
**I’m afraid, Kel. I don’t want to sleep.**
**I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.**
The Preserver was now at Hansha’s chest, and it left the hand clenching Grayling’s free as it continued to spin the cocoon.
Hansha moved his lips, but no sound issued. Tears shone in his eyes.
“My Hansha-of-the-Green-Eyes,” Grayling whispered, forcing a smile.
**Send to me... while I sleep?**
**Of course. Of course. And I’ll be right here when you wake up.**
The Preserver wrapped Hansha’s head tightly. Grayling gently extracted his hand from Hansha’s and Willowsnap flew down to wrap the hand as well. Grayling noted the subtle relaxing of Hansha’s body under the wrapstuff and he sat back, now allowing himself the luxury of tears.
Scouter touched his shoulder gently. “We got to him in time,” he said.
“I know,” Grayling nodded. He wiped at his tears clumsily. “Scouter–”
“I’ll take him back right now. My Bristleback is the best distance runner. Hansha’ll be in Leetah’s hut before the morning. You keep Willowsnap – no, don’t argue, Grayling. More might need wrapstuff before this is over. This cocoon is wrapped tight. I won’t let anything happen to it.”
“Thank you.”
Scouter helped him to his feet. “It’s the least I can do, my chief.”
“Don’t open the cocoon until I return,” Grayling said.
“What? Why not?”
“I promised him. I promised I’d be at his side when he woke up.”
Scouter nodded. “But... can he wait...?”
“He can wait forever. In there.” Grayling looked down at the cocoon, mild horror on his face.
Scouter nodded. “He won’t be touched until you return.” He reached down and hefted the cocoon over his shoulder. Grayling turned and looked at the others, now all nervously assembled on the rocks, their eyes glued to the wrapstuff cocoon.
“Don’t you need supplies?” Ahdri asked.
“I’ve got my water,” Scouter said. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a night’s ride back home. Bristleback!”
The jackwolf hastened to Scouter’s side. He moved to drape the cocoon over the wolf’s back. “Wait!” Grayling rushed forward. He laid his hand on the wrapstuff. **Hansha? Can you hear me?**
A distant sending replied. **Kel? Am I oversleeping again?**
Grayling smiled softly. **You keep sleeping, love. It’s hours ‘til daybreak.**
He felt Hansha’s sending star retreat, and he stepped back from the cocoon. “Carry him safely, Scouter. We’ll be home soon. And... if we’re not... wake Hansha when Savah thinks it best.”
Scouter clasped his hand tightly. “Don’t say that. I’ll see you all soon.”
Scouter lay the cocoon across Bristleback’s shoulders, then climbed astride his wolf. Bristleback began a steady lope down the rocks. The four elves watched as wolf, rider and precious cargo reached the sand below and began to retreat faster. The three forms blurred into one receding shape casting a long narrow shadow.
Grayling would have stood there until they disappeared from sight, but Coppersky touched his shoulder. “Chief?” he asked softly.
Grayling brushed away the stray tears. “Let’s go. We’ve another day to Smoking Mountain. Let’s – let’s take some bread and water and set out again.”
They turned back to the camp, but Ahdri lingered, looking at the body of the lion. The jackwolves, having torn out its jugular and slit its belly, and abandoned their kill. Already little ants were crawling out from under the gravel to feed off the spilled blood. The scavenger birds would not be far behind.
Her eyes were drawn to the massive paw, claws red with Hansha’s blood.
She rushed up to the cat’s side, drew the dagger Savah had given her, and plunged it deep into its thick neck.
* * *
Ahdri felt very alone on the zwoot as they rode on towards Smoking Mountain. Windkin sat with her in the large saddle sometimes, but eventually the night air called to him and he left her to fly overhead. She was just as grateful when he left her. They had very little to say to each other now.
She missed Hansha’s cheer. She even missed Scouter’s quiet brooding a little. The balance in the hunting party seemed uneven now. Coppersky’s moody silences seemed.... foreboding somehow, in a way Scouter’s did not. Grayling had grown grimly determined, and the steely resolution in his eyes disturbed her. Windkin’s efforts to maintain some degree of levity had failed miserably, and after a sharp tongue-lashing from Vurdah’s son, he fell quiet as well.
She could only imagine Grayling’s pain. Ahdri glanced up at Windkin as he circled overhead. From the looks of things four years would be all they would have together. Not that she was surprised. Windkin was not yet ten eights. His blood ran hot, a potent mix of Wolfrider and Glider. It would not be long before he wanted a new face. As for herself, she could hardly remember the last time she had had a lovemate. In her nearly thousand years on the World of Two Moons she had preferred the serenity and peace of Savah’s hut to the maelstrom of emotions to be found in the dances of joining. Fits of passion were more trouble than they were worth, she had long ago decided. Better to be calm and still like Savah, to be untouched by extremes of joy or sorrow.
She laughed out loud as she sat on the zwoot’s back. How naive she had been.
Grayling and Coppersky looked up at her with vaguely accusatory glances. Ahdri clapped her hand over her mouth and averted her eyes.
Windkin circled once, then glided down and took a seat on the saddle behind her. He wrapped his arms about her waist. “Well, I’m glad someone can still laugh,” he whispered in her ear. “I haven’t seen an elf so sour since Scouter and I first crossed paths when I was eight-and-ten.”
**Grayling’s worried,** Ahdri sent back. **I can’t blame him.**
**Aw, Hansha will be fine. We wrapstuffed with time to spare.**
**So long as the cocoon doesn’t tear on the ride back to Sorrow’s End.**
**You don’t know wrapstuff. I remember when Kimo – Newstar’s son, you remember? – was stupid enough to get himself slashed by a stalking bird. And he was worse than Hansha – much worse. But a bug wrapped him tight and got him back to Rain and he was on his feet again before sunset.**
**You never worry about anything, do you, Windkin?**
**It’s something my mother always taught me. You can’t change the past – no matter what Rayek might think – and you can’t predict the future. Better to be in the here and now, and in the Now, Hansha’s snug as a bug in his cocoon.**
**The Now. You might call yourself a Glider, but you have more than a little Wolfrider in you.**
He shrugged. **I like to think I’m a good mix of both. Some Wolfriders – elders, you know – are so... stubborn, so hard-headed when they think they have all the answers–**
“Mm, not like Gliders,” Ahdri murmured.
He gave her a squeeze. “But Gliders do have all the answers. So, are you going to tell me why you were laughing?”
**Just thinking what a silly kitling I used to be. I never cared for quests or adventures – not even when the Wolfriders arrived and lit a fire in the eyes of my kin. I saw how Rayek suffered in his exploits – his arm mangled for many years after a jackal attack, his heart wounded by his failed courtship of Leetah – and I wondered why anyone wanted to experience such... richness of life. And I was content to stay by Savah and learn her serenity. But I never really thought of it – that that serenity was hard won through pain, sorrow and joy, and all the extremes of existence I had tried to avoid. To think, Savah once made the journey your mother did, across the Burning Waste without food or water. I know the story by heart but I never really understood what it meant. Perhaps because I could never see Savah as anything other than she is now. I feel... I feel like I am waking from a long dream. I feel as though I’ve just shed my skin. And I can’t help but laugh.**
**It’s good to hear you laugh again.**
“It’s good to hear myself laugh again. Windkin–” she began to turn.
His voice turned pained, pleading. “Let’s... let’s not make any rash decisions, hmm? Let’s wait until we get back to Sorrow’s End.”
“Windkin, I –”
“Windkin!”
Windkin looked up. Grayling was glaring at him.
“Get your eyes up there. I think I see some light ahead towards Smoking Mountain.”
Windkin lifted off to look. Ahdri looked sheepish. **Sorry, Grayling.**
But Grayling’s expression softened. **No. I shouldn’t have snapped.**
**Hansha will be fine.**
**I know. My head knows it.**
Windkin flew higher into the night sky and the gritty ash stung his throat. Sure enough, he saw little sparks of light in the distance, haloing the dark shadow growing ever-larger with each step the travellers took.
**Lightning strikes, chief,** he sent back. **Inside the ash cloud. Smoking Mountain is planning quite the welcome for us.**
Grayling scowled, and beneath the chief’s lock and tan, Ahdri saw an uncanny resemblance to his brooding elder brother. “We’re running out of time.”
At daybreak they perched on a cluster of broken rocks at the base of the mountain. A fractured ridgeline led due south, slowly rising to melt into the northern face of the volcano. Ahdri knelt on the sandstone and pressed her cheek to the ground. She extended her senses outwards, down deep into the fissure of the rock. “Look where the rock isn’t,” she murmured to herself softly. She could feel the little cracks running through the rock, the tiny channels where once water flowed.
The ground shook slightly. The haze was everywhere, like a dry mist, concealing the even pyramid of the volcano and the smaller mound that rose from its western ridge. The pungent smell of sulphur hung in the air, stale and cloying. They all held their scarves to their mouths to keep the ash out of their lungs. Coppersky could not stop coughing.
“Ahdri?” Grayling demanded.
Ahdri sat back on her heels. Her eyes followed the uneven ground up towards the flank of the mountain. “I cannot tell yet. I need to get closer.”
“We’re not getting any closer than this, rockshaper!”
“I can see – I can see patterns in the rock – great lines spreading out from the mountain like a spider’s web. I see them all, as clear as day! But I can’t reach into any of them. The canyon - the canyon where the wild zwoots live.” She got to her feet and craned her neck. She could just see the ripple in the ground that signalled the northern-most edge of the ravine. “We have to go there.”
“Are you mad?” Coppersky turned on her. “We might as well dig ourselves a little grave and crawl inside.”
“He’s right, Ahdri. The canyon is too narrow, too close to the mountain. One good puff of ash and poison clouds and we’ll be done for. An a earthquake while we’re in that narrow ravine will bury us alive.”
“I need to get closer! The mountain is pulling all the life in the rock deep under itself. I cannot get a sense of anything from this distance.”
“Can’t you.... go out, or something?” Coppersky demanded.
“I haven’t had enough training yet.”
Grayling looked up at Smoking Mountain. The summit of the mountain had long since disappeared in the pall of black smoke. “I’m sorry, Ahdri. But we can’t go any closer.”
“I’ll take her closer,” Windkin said. “I can fly her into the canyon, then back here.”
Ahdri started, surprised at his offer.
“The air is thick with ash,” Grayling said. “You can barely stay aloft already.”
“If we can’t get Ahdri closer the ash will only move north to Sorrow’s End. We don’t have a choice here, Grayling.”
“We can get out of this black smoke!” Coppersky said.
“That’s it, turn tail and run like ravvits–”
“You mind that wagging tongue of yours, Glider, before someone skewers it!”
“Enough!” Grayling moved between them. “I’ve had enough of this snapping.”
“Do we just turn around in defeat?” Windkin asked. “We’ve risked too much–”
“Don’t speak to me of risk!” Grayling growled low. “Now calm down, Glider. Let’s be reasonable.”
“We’re running out of time!” Windkin exclaimed. The ground trembled again, softly, as if in agreement.
“We can’t stand here arguing, we – Ahdri!” Grayling shouted, for Ahdri had abandoned her position on the ridgeline and was now running down to the sandy flats below. “Ahdri!”
Ahdri cast off her scarf and jogged across the sand. The air burned her throat as she ran, but she ignored the pain as she ignored the shouts of the Jackwolf Riders. Her eyes were focussed on a near imperceptible line in the sand, a little ripple caused by the latest tremor. As the elves had argued, she had seen it flare to life, like a red scar under the sand. Now the scar pulsed, widening and contracting in tiny waves. It was breathing. The mountain was breathing. She felt the ground move underfoot with the rhythmic breaths of Smoking Mountain. She felt the sand shake as a jackwolf with rider bore down on her position.
Ahdri ran faster, willing her legs to keep her just ahead of her pursuer. She collapsed at the fissure and plunged her hands deep into the cold sand. She vaguely heard the ‘thump’ of a ride dismounting, but she was even now rapidly shutting out her mind to everything but the fissure beneath her hands.
“Ahdri! What are you doing, come on!”
Coppersky’s angry rasp, and a hand on her shoulder. But the sensations were no more real than a dream.
She felt herself falling into the sand, into the rock below, following the fissure down. She descended through the layers of rock, feeling the heat rise around her. There had been water here, once. Now there were only traces of steam pulsing against the rock.
“The water was here,” she whispered. “This is the riverbed. Not the spring... where is this spring? Have to.... look where the rock isn’t...”
She felt herself fragment into countless little lights, each light following another crack in the rocks. She poured her consciousness through the fissures, hunting for telltale traces of water.
The ground shook beneath her knees. The mountain was growing impatient with her probing.
Heat, everywhere...
Steam...
Steam... rising...
“Ahdri!” Windkin caught her shoulder and yanked her to her feet a moment before the sand sank underfoot and a great plume of steam broke up through the thin ground. Windkin and Coppersky hustled the rockshaper out of the way.
“Well, you found some water, at least,” Coppersky quipped.
“I need to go back,” Ahdri said. “I need to go back in.”
Against the ground shook. “It’s too dangerous,” Grayling shouted over the hissing of steam. “We have to get back to higher ground.”
“I have to go back, Grayling!” Ahdri pleaded. “It’s almost too late. The liquid fire is rising fast!”
“Let her go, Grayling!”
“Windkin, are you mad?”
The mountain rumbled, and they watched in horror as a distant landslide slid down the northern slope of the volcano. Another steam vent exploded to life on the edge of the zwoot canyon.
Ahdri knelt down on the ground again. Grayling moved to stop her, and Windkin blocked his path. “Let her try. What other chance do we have now? What other chance does the village have?”
Emboldened by Windkin’s faith, Ahdri returned her mind to the fissures in the rocks. The hot spot was travelling up directly under the cone of the volcano, but the heat spread outward through the network of cracks. The hot spot had fed the hot springs since the infancy of Sorrow’s End, but now the heat was drawing back in under the volcano, and taking everything with it.
Pressure, everywhere, the throbbing of the earth’s arteries...
The pressure had to be released. Where? How? Not up, not into Smoking Mountain. It would explode and all would be lost.
Pain... heat...
She tried nudging it gently; she felt her spirit-self pushing against the hotspot, pushing it further underground.
The ground rocked underfoot. New steam vents pierced the earth at the canyon’s edge. The jackwolves whined and flattened themselves to the ground. The zwoot panicked and fled.
**Ahdri!** Grayling called. **Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working!**
Rage...
No, the rock had no life, no emotions. It only wanted to escape, to break free of the earth’s heat.
She tried nudging the pool of fire again. This time she pushed it south.
It fought back against her. The earth continued shake.
**Ahdri, whatever you’re going to do, do it now!** Grayling shouted in her mind.
**I can’t....**
She pushed against the fire. Slowly, sluggishly it rolled over on itself, burning a path through the rock. The earth rebelled against her clumsiness and new fissures spiderwebbed out from the mountain.
“I can’t....” Ahdri murmured weakly. Her strength was failing her and her spirit-self withdrew.
**You can, Ahdri,** Windkin sent. **Just hold on.**
She reached down anew. “Look where the rock isn’t...” she murmured to herself.
Heat... rage...
Light.
Her last effort had broken open a new fissure, running south, slowly rising until it broke through the sky.
Again she nudged the molten rock. It rolled south reluctantly. The pressure built again, threatening to collapse the entire substructure of Smoking Mountain.
Pressure...
Escape...
The liquid fire found the fissure and rose, almost joyously, towards the surface. The pressure ebbed. The tremors eased.
Ahdri collapsed.
When she came to they had retreated to the ridgeline. The zwoot was gone, lost somewhere on the plains, and Coppersky had ridden off in search of it. Grayling was pacing the rocks, scanning the mountain for signs of danger. Windkin was holding her in his arms.
“You gave us a scare, Ahdri,” he smiled clumsily.
“The quakes–”
“They’ve stopped. I don’t know what you did, but it worked, for now, at least.”
She slowly sat up, with Windkin’s help. He offered her the water-skin, and she drank greedily.
“I heard you send to me,” she said.
He looked mildly embarrassed. “I hope it didn’t distract you.”
“No... it gave me strength.”
“Ahdri,” Grayling crouched down next to her. “What happened?”
“I make a new river course for the liquid fire. The heat that feed Smoking Mountain has been diverted south. What else I may have done... I don’t know.”
“I know. Rest now.”
Windkin helped Ahdri move into the shade of a large boulder. Again Windkin offered her the water-skin, and again she drank deep.
“I feel so... dried out inside,” she gasped around the lip of the skin.
“Thirsty work, trying to reason with liquid fire.” Windkin floated up and scanned the surrounding rocks. “I just hope Coppersky can find that cursed zwoot, or we might not have much more water to spare.”
“Water...” Ahdri whispered. She touched her hand to the ground and extended her spirit-self down into the strata below. At length she smiled.
The Jackwolf Riders returned to hero’s welcome. Maidens rushed to greet the hunters, bearing full bowls of water. “Fresh from the well!” Ruffel announced. “The first water that bubbled up was briny and barely fit for the zwoots, but by last night the water was cool and clear. Even the hot springs are beginning to fill again – but the water is much cooler than before, and much more pungent.”
“Saen!” Vurdah cried out. Coppersky set his shoulders stiffly, his expression one of grim resolution, as his mother assaulted him with kisses.
“Shade and sweet water, kitling,” Savah offered Ahdri water from her golden goblet. “I have never been happier to offer a traveller such.”
“I still don’t know exactly what I may have done,” Ahdri said. “I don’t know if the water is here to stay or not–”
“Shh, kitling. It is here now. And we have already refilled all our storeholes, plus a new one Ekuar dug this morning. Even if the water ebbs again, we will be well prepared.”
“I... I cannot promise anything. Smoking Mountain may soon roar to life again. We may not have forever here after all.”
“No,” Savah said. “No one can promise us forever. But we have tonight. And that is more than we would have had without you, Ahdri.”
Grayling exchanged quick clasps-of-the-shoulders with Dodia and Wing, then rushed for Leetah’s hut.
The cocoon was lying on the edge of Leetah’s pit-bed. “I must say, it was somewhat uncomfortable sleeping knowing I had an uninvited guest – however fast asleep,” Leetah said pointedly as she and Scouter shifted the cocoon into the bed. “But he has not been touched, as you ordered.” A hint of venom in her voice. Scouter touched her hand gently.
Grayling sat down next to the cocoon as Scouter cut it open with his dagger. Leetah’s hands slipped in before the suspended animation of wrapstuff could fully lift, and instantly a healing glow surrounded the open cocoon and the dozing elf inside. The gashes in his torso closed and healed over with shiny scar tissue. The bruises from his broken rib eased as the bone knit and the internal bleeding ebbed. At length Hansha opened his eyes and gazed up at Grayling’s anxious face.
“Lifemate...?”
“Hey, green eyes,” Grayling clutched his hand tight. “Told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
The lanterns were lit and the Sun Folk danced on the mats as the squatneedle cider flowed freely. Little Ember sat atop old Goldenmane and the jackwolf obligingly shuffled around the dancing mats while the cubling giggled and cried: “I’m a Wolfrider, look at me, I’m a Wolfrider!” Ahnshen and Vurdah curled up together on the sidelines and fed each other dreamberries. Leetah donned her best moth-fabric gown and danced for Scouter and Shushen. Even Jarrah was smiling again as she shared cider with Ekuar and they traded stories of Rayek’s stubbornness.
Ahdri strayed from the dais and her place of honour as the night wore on, and sought out a quiet shadow at the edge of the festivities. It was not long before Windkin caught up with her.
“Savah will call for the Palace tomorrow,” he said. “But tonight is our night to celebration. Ours alone. So how does it feel to be the one they dance for?”
“Strange. This new skin of mine feels... awkward, like sandals not like broken in.”
“I think you’ll grow more comfortable with it soon enough.”
“And you, lovemate?” she turned to regard him. “What do you think of my new skin?”
“It confused me, I’ll admit. But I’m growing to like it... very much,” he added in a low voice.
She took a step away as he tried to glide closer. “Windkin. Things cannot be as they were. I’m not the delicate flower you decided to cultivate four years ago.”
“Ahdri, I don’t want to lose you.”
“Truly? Or do you simply fear losing a comfortable habit?”
Windkin flinched, but he had to nod at her insight. “We were a bit of a habit, I admit. And a comfortable one – very comfortable,” he chuckled softly. “But these last few days... it’s as if I’ve met a completely different maiden. One I’d very much like to know better.”
She touched his cheek fondly. “I am many times your elder, Windkin. And I’ve never had patience for dalliances of the heart.”
He swallowed. “My heart is growing weary of dallying too.”
She let her hand fall to her side. “I still want my own hut. My own sanctuary, my own space. But I would like your company.”
“We are not so poor in Sorrow’s End that we can’t afford two huts for two lovemates.”
“And perhaps more than lovemates... one day? Or is your head too high in the clouds to ever consider taking root in this soil?”
Windkin flushed. “Far too high in the clouds tonight. But I’d like to come down to earth one day.”
“No promises.”
“No. But a pledge... to see you as you are, not as I’d like you to be.”
Ahdri leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek fondly. And then she melted against him, and Windkin held her close, nuzzling his cheek against her tight curls.
“Ahdri...” he whispered.
A low rumble startled them. They sensed the familiar precursor to an earthquake, and Windkin lifted Ahdri up of the ground an instant before the quake hit. The ground rock violently and the bead curtains of the nearby huts jangled. Clay pots fell over. The lanterns broke from their tethers and shattered.
“No!” cries rose up from the dancers. “Not another!” “It’s come again!” “Smoking Mountain is going to blow!”
Windkin and Ahdri flew up into the air, their eyes trained on the darkened pyramid to the south. No lightning sparks haloed its summit. But far beyond the mountain, along the World’s Spine, they saw a bright flash of orange fire.
“What is it?” Windkin asked.
“It’s another smoking mountain.”
Windkin smiled. “The liquid fire’s found the way to the surface. But far downwind of the village. You did it, Ahdri! You diverted the river of fire away from Smoking Mountain.”
The next day saw the black clouds lift from Smoking Mountain’s peak.
With ten days the vent at the mountain’s summit had shut down completely.
Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts