The next morning, I arrived early at the Hunter’s Lodge, but Inleio was at his desk instead of training someone. He must’ve seen the disappointment on my face.
“The day after a hunt is a good day to rest,” he said, “but it’s also good to be young and hungry.” He grabbed his spear, and we headed out back.
Inleio was right about the need to recover, so we took it easy. The exercise was more intellectual than physical: moving through the forms slowly and asking questions along the way.
The depth of his knowledge astounded me, but then, he’d been a hunter for a long time. He survived over fifty Long Darks and twelve hundred organized hunts. And there was no counting how much time he’d spent in the woods to provide for his family and the village.
Inleio was a man who tackled the tasks given to him with humility, dedication, and passion. I respected that. People like him were gold. I’d run into a few in my previous life—carpenters, film makers, chefs, and even a couple of baristas. They didn’t always show up in the most obvious places, but I counted myself blessed when they did. Honestly, some days I was just grateful for practical competence.
Inleio was more than competent. The spear was part of his heart, and it would have been foolish not to learn as much as I could from him.
Over the next couple of hours, hunters rolled through the lodge. Some came to care for their equipment, others to sit in the morning sun and gossip about the previous day’s events. A few even helped with the training, to show how they’d adapted the spear forms for their own use.
I listened to them too. Everyone had something to teach. Their way of doing things may not have been a perfect fit for me, but I almost always learned something—even if it was only the realization that their way was not my way.
Eventually, Inleio had to go back to his tallies, so I ran errands around the lodge until Mumu and Tegen showed up. Tegen was there to supervise me butchering the blynx. Mumu had come along because she was bored.
Tegen rolled his eyes at that.
Anyway, what followed was a careful dissection of the blynx’s body. I examined every organ and every bone. The teeth and the claws. The places where the dantians were, as well as the collapsed meridians.
Fortunately, my teammates found it amusing, humoring my attempt to learn how the blynx teleport worked. Apparently, it was something every apprentice with an affinity for qi or mana did. Not necessarily with the blynx, but there was always some animal with an ability that caught a hunter’s eye.
The lodge encouraged it, especially since the first qi and mana spells had come from these kinds of efforts.
“So there’s no Blink spell in the lodge’s library?” I asked.
Tegen sighed. “If only there were. Such a spell would have great utility. Alas, advanced spells can require both qi and mana—body power too, especially in animals. That’s why it’s often impossible to work out how they use their abilities. The interaction between the energies is too complicated to perceive and understand.”
“I have faith in our Little Pot of Questions,” Mumu said. “His spirit eyes may provide a clue that others missed.”
“We can hope,” Tegen said.
Unfortunately, my spirit eyes didn’t reveal the blynx’s secrets. The only thing I saw was a ghost dog in the corner by Inleio’s desk lolling on his back. He was massive, with a head the size of a piñata and a big, beefy chest and haunches.
Putting him out of my head, I went back to dissecting the blynx. The plan was to take the bones back to the Glen for further study.
I was scraping the last of the meat off the blynx’s skull when Borba arrived. Mumu waved him over, and the two of them chatted. Both were team leaders, and they all planned to meet later in the day to share what they’d collectively learned during the hunt.
Borba and Mumu got a head start. According to Borba, the wolves southwest of Voorhei were attempting to expand their territory, but a herd of musk oxen had fought them off, squeezing the pack between them and the kalihchi bear’s territory. My team hadn’t seen evidence of the wolves, but perhaps we hadn’t traveled far enough in that direction.
It was all interesting information—until the conversation turned into the equivalent of a hunter blooper reel. One of Borba’s teammates had slipped while avoiding an ox’s charge and fallen headfirst into a pile of scat. That had them both snickering.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your fun,” I said, “but I have a question.”
That caused them to laugh again.
“Of course you do,” Borba said with a smile. “What is it?”
“It’s about Kiertie of Voorhoos. I heard that she had a knack for finding treasure, and that you might know more about it.”
Borba’s smile faded. “Kiertie, well—” He cleared his throat. “She thought herself above me. In truth, her whole family did. A talent for divination runs through her line, you see, and her family is somewhat famous.”
“So she didn’t mention to you what she was after?” I asked.
“No. No one knows,” Borba said. “She and Woldec kept it secret. Several of us offered to help—we begged to come along, because we knew how dangerous the King of the Forest could be—but they wanted to keep the treasure in the family, bringing only Grunthen in case they couldn’t avoid the bear.” He shook his head. “Woldec was stubborn, just like Kiertie. Once they seized an idea, it stuck in their heads and there was no moving it.”
“Could she see the future, then?” I asked.
“Kiertie’s great grandmother could,” Borba said, “but talents aren’t inherited whole. For example, I am Hard-Working, but my son is Diligent and my daughter has Perseverance. Kiertie, she didn’t have Future Sight. If she had, she’d still be alive.”
If I remembered it right, Kiertie’s exact talent was Dog Nose. At the time, I thought maybe she had an excellent sense of smell, but perhaps the name was meant to be more metaphorical: she had a talent for finding things.
So, Kiertie was Proud and Comely. She had come to Voorhei in search of treasure and found her match in Woldec. The two of them made an ambitious pair, and along with Ghitha’s help, they’d seen a potential fortune within their grasp.
“Did anyone else know their plan?” I asked.
My question caught Borba woolgathering. He’d been gazing down at his hands, lost in thought. “Everyone knew what they’d intended,” he said, looking up. “Grunthen had made sure of that, but he didn’t say exactly what they’d sought. He just bragged about how rich he’d be.”
I shook my head, frustrated. The information provided helpful context, but I was still no closer to finding out the identity of Bindeise’s killer. If only I could somehow reach Grunthen’s ghost.
I had lunch with the kids and Bihei, but with no tears or drama this time around. They knew I was coming back, although my next visit would be in two weeks. I got special dispensation from Inleio, since there was a delegation to visit Ikfael scheduled. My next obligation to the lodge would be met by me facilitating their visit. There was a lot to do between now and then, so I set out immediately after the meal.
It was another hot and humid day, and I looked forward to getting under the forest’s canopy. That wasn’t something I’d ever expected, but I was becoming accustomed to this world and its dangers. Between the uekisheile and the skills I was training with the Hunter’s Lodge, I felt capable of handling the forest’s everyday dangers.
I’d just reached the base of the hills leading up to the Glen, when I caught the flicker of something out of the corner of my eye. I jumped forward and spun around, spear at the ready.
I scanned the woods, yet didn’t see anything. I sniffed the air, and the scents of pine, oak, and musty earth filled my nose. The ambient qi was full of life, ordinary.
The birds in the trees took to the air in a flutter of wings. The cicadas quieted, then resumed their chirping after a few breaths. The wind stirred through the boughs, but nothing else moved.
Had it been my imagination? I couldn’t take that chance, and let the uekisheile sprout their tendrils across my scalp and the back of my neck where they’d be hidden from view. We joined through the land and kept vigilant for anything on our backtrail.
Halfway home, we caught sight of a spirit following us. No, not a spirit, something living. The bushes moved when it ducked out of view. Whatever it was, we couldn’t penetrate its Stealth or Camouflage, and it was too far to sense its qi.
We held our spear tight and wiped the sweat beading across our brow. We were alert, ready to increase the flow of qi through our Dog’s Agility. The worry was that it was another blynx.
We held steady, though. The uekisheile’s mental processes weren’t as easily distracted as Ollie/Eight. Though our body pumped adrenaline into our bloodstream, we remained focused.
The creature attempted to hide, but its… her spirit was visible, and we caught sight of her moving behind a cedar tree downhill from us. We pretended to be unaware, and instead let ourselves be hidden by the land. She wanted to ambush us? Well, we could ambush her instead.
To our right was a collection of large ferns. Mindful of not leaving any tracks, we slipped between the fronds and made ourselves small. We pulled in our qi, so as not to disturb the living world around us. We breathed along with the green things and made our thoughts like dirt.
Time passed, but time was nothing. We’d lived countless cycles of day and night, ourselves alone. Waiting here, in the conjoining of our consciousnesses, was a blessing worth any danger.
The figure moved from behind the cedar tree and cautiously made her way uphill. Again, our eyes saw nothing physical, and even her qi was muted. She, however, couldn’t hide her spirit in the shape of a human woman. She moved like a hunter, and in a flash it came to us that she was Otwei, one of the hunters from Albei.
Why was Otwei following us? Ollie/Eight was good at stories, and his consciousness generated several: to scout the way to Ikfael’s Glen, to learn the secret of the Healing Water spell, to follow us to where Woldec’s body rested, or to see if we knew where the Red Room was. Endless stories spilled from that portion of our combined mind.
Normally, we delighted in stories, but these were alarming. Could any of them be true? And if so, what should we do about them? No easy answer sprang to mind. One thing we understood, however: if Otwei meant well, why would she hide?
She walked past us, her Camouflage useless against our spirit eyes. That, at least, was pleasing, and pointed to an advantage against any creature that tried to hide from us.
Otwei returned after ten minutes and examined the last tracks we’d left. She headed off in another direction, but came back. She found another direction, and came back yet again.
The fourth time, she dropped her Camouflage spell and said something foul. We were delighted by her frustration.
Unfortunately, Otwei possessed a map with directions to the Glen. She made her way there on her own and found a sheltered spot from which to watch.
We, in turn, watched her, debating what we should do. Her spirit was relaxed and easy. At first she was curious, looking at the Glen and the things we’d left behind, but soon she became bored, waiting for our arrival.
There was no scent of violence emanating from her. Unless killing was as easy for her as breathing, we did not expect her to intend us harm.
Given that, we decided not to kill her, which put the portion of us that was Ollie/Eight at ease. The prospect of killing another human being was disturbing to them… him. He had done it before, but that had been because there were children involved.
We let go of the land, and I leaned against a—huh… I didn’t realize there was a bay tree near the Glen. I leaned against the trunk of a bay tree and wondered at how close we—how close I’d come to attacking Otwei based on a handful of suppositions.
Still, the uekisheile had listened to my concerns while we were joined together. We’d made the right decision as far as I was concerned. I’d just have to make sure that continued.
A deep breath later, I walked into the Glen as if everything was normal. I surreptitiously looked around for Ikfael, but she was nowhere to be found. She likely already knew about our uninvited guest, but I thought I’d at least give her the details.
I walked into the cave, and once I was shielded by the waterfall, she appeared out of the water.
“Don’t tell me you adopted another one?” Ikfael signed.
“No, this one isn’t mine. She followed me here. I’m not exactly sure why, though. She could have several reasons.” And so I explained the situation, including the fact that the upcoming visit at the solstice would be different than usual.
Typically, the villagers visited Ikfael and brought an offering in gratitude for the clean water provided downstream. They’d place fruit, vegetables, and fish beside the pool, say some words, and then leave.
This time around, Sheedi wanted to ask permission to establish a shrine at the Glen, which would make a bigger deal of the relationship between the village and the spirit. Then there was also the healing spell, of special interest to the Hunter’s Lodge. And finally, Ghitha was coming to pick up the remains of his family, and he’d be bringing the Albei hunters with him.
Ikfael glared at me. “None of this would’ve happened without you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend any of it. Luckily, it’s only one day. The hunters will leave as soon as they hear your answer, and Ghitha as soon as he gets his family’s remains. I don’t know what you want to do about the shrine, though.”
Judging from her eyes, I could see that Ikfael was torn. The shrine would likely be a point of pride, and I was sure the offerings would be attractive, but she was protective of the Glen’s peace. Very protective.
“I don’t know,” she said, the signs hesitant. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, then what should we do about our guest?” I pointed to where Otwei had hidden herself.
“If she doesn’t leave with the others on the day of the solstice, we get rid of her.”
“Ah, isn’t that… extreme?” I asked.
Ikfael shook her head, her eyes hard. “No one but the invited may stay that evening. I’ve vowed it so. You’ll see why.”
“This is the good thing you mentioned the other day, when I made the donuts?”
“It may be a good thing, or it may not. We won’t know until then.”
The uekisheile grew more and more unhappy with Otwei’s presence. She was a fly in the ointment of our pleasant days, a niggling thought always present in our mind. The distraction interfered with our study of the blynx’s bones. Everything we did was observed, and we had to always be careful not to show what we wanted to keep hidden.
Two days later, the uekisheile asked for permission to sneak a piece of themselves above Otwei, as a kind of Sword of Damocles. They’d keep hidden, at one with the land, unless Otwei did something dangerous, at which point they’d drop and invade her meridians. Well, I didn’t much care for Otwei’s behavior either, and it would be good to have some insurance, so I agreed.
That evening, the uekisheile let me know that Otwei was asleep. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak away to get the bodies of Woldec and family ready for transport, so we slipped out of the Glen unnoticed.
At the boundary of Ikfael’s territory, we hesitated and looked back toward the Glen. A thought had arisen and hovered between our joined minds: that we could enter Otwei’s meridians while she slept. To go unnoticed was a skill we’d been practicing.
Safety. Insurance. Revenge. A trap, unsprung unless necessary. The thoughts swirled through us.
We were already prepared to invade her meridians if she behaved badly; doing so in advance allowed us to skip a step and simplified things so that nothing would keep us from intervening if necessary.
We weighed the dangers and the benefits, and also struggled with the ethics of invasion of privacy and integrity of being. We hesitated and hesitated. But the world was dangerous, and people were part of the world.
Heavens help us, we gave in to our suspicions and said yes.
The uekisheile above Otwei dropped, transformed into qi, and slipped quietly into the meridians closest to the skin. She tasted like tea steeped for too long, strong and bitter with tannins.
Her qi pumped slowly, sleepily along, and we followed it until we found her heart dantian. We made ourselves small and insignificant, a part of her land. There, we’d wait and watch.
My decision cast a shadow over a dark and chilly night. The work of moving Woldec and his family’s bodies was sweaty and hard. The parts I’d expected to be difficult were difficult, especially the narrow and twisted tunnels. It was an exercise in frustration and perseverance. The only grace was that the bags were sturdy, and not one tore or ripped. What a horror that would’ve been—me dragging a bag behind me while it leaked putrefied corpse juice.
The work took all night, but eventually the bagged bodies rested at the top of the natural spiral near the Lion’s Cave and were ready to be transported the rest of the way. The plan was for me to come get them the night before the solstice, so that they wouldn’t sit decomposing in the Glen.
I’d hoped that my thoughts would be occupied while I worked, but I found them circling the decision about Otwei. My intuition told me not to trust the hunters from Albei, and if they were going to have me watched, then turnabout was fair play. It was just that our version of watching involved the literal invasion of a person’s body.
No matter how I considered it, the decision made me uneasy. Responding to a wrong with another wrong was never right. The thing that had tipped the scales, though, was her Poisoner talent. I’d already suspected her of using her Decoy talent on us. What was to stop her from using poison?
The fact was, while the people of Voorhei treated me well and I’d quickly formed friendships with many of them, I still didn’t know a whole lot about how people treated each other in this world. How common was it for people to hurt others for material gain? I knew of one murder already.
All the way back to the Glen, I considered and reconsidered what to do, but in the end I let the decision stand. Hopefully, Otwei wouldn’t do anything stupid, but if she did, we had a weapon at the ready.
