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Escape From Manitou Island: Part 105 |
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Thinning Out THE LODGE WAS warmer than it was outside, not that cold ever bothered Black Elk Horn. In fact he was more bothered by being in the lodge than he would have been outside. At least outside, his chances of shooting the red man in the head without causing much of a fuss would have been better. Here, inside, it would have been a bad idea. He didn't care for the few tribe members who would wander in and out, looking everyone over and disappearing again--they weren't his people, so it would have been no loss to accidentally kill one--though he did appreciate that they too cast the red man a disproportionate number of looks. They all sat around the walls and in the middle of the lodge, Winter Born warming her hands at one of the fires, and in all truth, her location and that of the red man were all that mattered. He mostly wouldn't have minded hitting any of the others, as long as he could take that one down. He didn't really like the thought, but sometimes one had to do such things in times such as this. He sat huddled against the wall with the gun balanced across his knees and his arms resting over it, eyeing everyone in the wigwam and thinking over what might happen if he killed any of them, seeing as he had nothing better to do right now. He would have truly regretted having to take out Stick-In-The-Dirt; the nanandawi was harmless to him, and even though he'd adopted the mainlander, still, he knew his place and never caused much trouble. He wasn't much of a challenge anyway, and Black Elk Horn hated the thought of having to kill a coward. The white boy, the long knife who was half Wendigo, he didn't much like, but like the medicine man he'd proven to be pretty much harmless aside from being a friend of the mainlander; as long as he kept her busy, he couldn't be too bad a person. Black Elk Horn rather wished they would both move away from the Island and leave his people alone for good, maybe have a bunch of strange Wendigo children together. He didn't mind the Wemitigoji and his son that much; they managed to fit in, unlike most of the others of their sort, though the boy did need to have his behind paddled for always tormenting Winter Born. Of course it would have been stupid to shoot Manabozho and his brother, as foolish as they were, for they'd surely done a lot to help the Island and his people, although he did wonder sometimes if that was really the Great Rabbit or some lesser manitou in disguise. He preferred to just pretend that Walks-On-The-Shore didn't even exist; the Huron was useless, as well as mad. X'aaru he could not have killed, but the demon was curled up, almost invisible, in the far corner of the lodge, fast asleep; although Black Elk Horn didn't like Ocryxes, X'aaru wasn't like his real father, and he knew that Silver Eagle Feather wouldn't be happy if anything bad were to befall him--and seeing as his mate was Ocryx's pup, it would probably be inviting trouble to bring her any sort of bad news. He felt neither like nor dislike for Marten and Pakwa; he barely knew either of them, and didn't really care to. He did not like the wabano or the Iroquois, but aside from getting on his nerves with their mere presence, they weren't doing anything particularly offensive, and he felt that he'd gotten rather even with them both by now; he had bigger things to think of anyway. He honestly had no real clue what to think of Niskigwun--was he really one of the Turtle Spirits?--best to just leave him alone lest he anger the Island...and despite being strange, at least the Michinimakinong appeared to respect the old ways, something which was far too often overlooked these days. The two loons were useless themselves, but loons didn't make good dinner, so he didn't want to waste ammunition on them. And it would have been bad luck to kill either the manitou or the little Thunderbird. He knew better than to tempt fate. The red man, though, the older long knife, he could do without, and as soon as a good chance arose, he would act on it. There were too many people around, and he knew that at least one of them would throw a fit if he were to do it now. The strange tribe they were among didn't seem to like the man in red, but he couldn't count on their support. And he would have to make sure that the mainlander wouldn't arrive right in the middle of things. You're lucky I don't listen to what you say!!... Unease seeped up inside him and he scowled when he nearly shivered. He shouldn't be frightened of her--she was just another mainlander--yet what he'd seen down in that strange tunnel had him feeling such that he had to keep shoving the thought out of his head just to keep from getting rattled. A pair of yellow eyes, tattooed flames dancing around them, and a hand lit up with fire, a voice in his head warning him... You'd best not cause more trouble than you're worth, if you ever want to make it back to your Island alive... He did shiver now, in spite of himself. That face. Wasn't that the face of the same one she'd supposedly defeated her last time there...? He had to shake the thought off again. If he was alive somewhere, that meant she hadn't done her job, and that meant she wasn't an apt protector of the Island. Perhaps she'd go tumbling off a mountain slope, and then his problems would be solved. He did feel a twinge of regret that that would make Stick-In-The-Dirt and Winter Born feel sorrowful, but they would get over it... His eyes shifted to stare at the red man again. He too sat against the wall, toward the back of the lodge and not far from the wabano, although he didn't seem to relish this proximity himself. Like Black Elk Horn, his gun was propped up on his knees, his arms resting over it; he was obviously trying to look relaxed, but failing miserably, his own eyes opening every so often to shift from side to side as he observed the people sitting in and coming and going from the lodge. Black Elk Horn stared at him in silence, wishing that he had wabano powers for a change so he could simply will him dead. He and White Coyote had grown up together, gotten in trouble together, gone running after the pretty women together, had even settled into the same tribe together. He was the closest thing to a brother that Black Elk Horn had had. And just like that, he was gone. He hadn't even had the chance to say a word to him before he was gone. His finger slipped into the loop of the trigger and tightened, just a little. The barrel of the gun was aimed toward the red man, and he wasn't paying attention to the one person who was watching him. He could say that the gun had gone off on accident--that was supposedly the red man's pathetic excuse, after all--and chances were, only the mainlander would bother to argue otherwise, what with a room full of witnesses to back him up... A loud yawning noise came and both he and Lieutenant Barrington jerked when X'aaru plodded across the room and plopped down over the soldier's feet. Barrington's lip curled back, baring his teeth, and Black Elk Horn saw his own finger tighten on the trigger; a black scowl came to the ogimah's face, and Barrington suddenly blinked, lifting his head and seeing him at last. The two of them stared at each other for a moment or two, then Black Elk Horn barely suppressed a snarl as he let go of the trigger and turned his head to stare toward the door. Silver Eagle Feather wouldn't be happy if he shot the demon, and he found that he much preferred demons to gun-happy long knives dressed in red. There would be plenty of chances later on. This was a big land and from the sound of it, they weren't ready to head back just yet. He could be patient. He had been before. The GeeBee's head suddenly popped up and he blinked blearily, snorting. Everyone who was awake glanced at him as he stared at the entryway, then pushed himself up and went clambering across the lodge. Thomas and Winter Born frowned at him as he did so, perplexed. "What is it--?" Winter Born asked, getting to her feet and dusting her knees off. "Mainlander's back," Pakwa replied, making his way for the entry. Thomas's brow furrowed. "You can tell--?" "Can smell her two hundred paces away," Pakwa said, then paused to give him a look. "You can't?" Thomas blinked, then rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "Remind me again why I'm happy that I'm only half GeeBee," he muttered as he nudged his way past Pakwa. "Because I don't think I could stand smelling everybody whenever they arrive." "You mean she's been up and down that mountain already--?" Singing Cedars asked, getting up; Stick-In-The-Dirt followed suit, and Barrington looked as if he wanted to, only X'aaru was snoring by now. Winter Born pulled the flap aside a little and peeped outside. She glanced at them over her shoulder, her own brow furrowing. "I don't think so," she said. "She's coming back with that old lady." Thomas tensed a little. "That witch did go up after her--? Is she all right--?" "I don't know," Winter Born said, moving aside so they could all look out. "Thomas...where's that other person she went up there with?" "I don't know," Thomas echoed her, frowning. "But we're going to find out." They exited to meet her, Winter Born falling in the mud, but Charmian didn't seem particularly interested in describing what had happened, even after being pressed by Thomas and Singing Cedars. Their interrogation was interrupted by the old woman, who tossed a spirit stone into the camp's fire, creating a ruckus. After that they headed back toward the lodge, the old woman glancing at Charmian as they walked. "You said you're going to head up that mountain no matter what," she said. Charmian nodded. "I don't care how many Wen--Whittikos there are! I have to get up there and find the North Wind." Mudroot stared at her critically for a moment, then snorted and stepped inside. "Get in, then. Because before you go we're going to have to have a nice talk." They slipped back inside, settling around the two fires within; X'aaru had slept through the whole thing, leaving Barrington stuck beside the wall. The others gathered closer to the lodge's center, still asking questions which Mudroot silenced with one imperious hand gesture. "Quiet! I'm not obligated to tell you anything, girlie," she said, looking at Charmian again, "but I will, just because you gave me an excuse to set off after that Whittiko. So consider this advice paid for." She tucked her arms into her sleeves and glowered at everyone. "There's nothing I can say to deter you from this?" she pressed. Charmian shook her head obstinately. "Well then. I'm sure you've heard all sorts of tales about the North Wind, if you're so set on visiting with him." "From what we've heard, he's basically a big bully who likes to torment people," Charmian said. "Basically," Mudroot echoed. "But you said you're going to have to talk to him. Have any idea what you're in for?" Charmian frowned a little and bit her lip. "Well...people keep suggesting that we bring a lot of tobacco..." "Tobacco won't get you far with the North Wind," Mudroot argued. "As if he cares about such trifling things! If you want to get on with the Winds then you have to think like the Winds. The North Wind is the craftiest of the lot. If you ask something of him, he won't just go giving it. You're going to have to earn it." "You mean like payment?" Charmian asked. "I've dealt with wabanos before!" Mudroot pursed her lips. "Not quite like wabanos. Like I said, the North Wind doesn't care for payment. I said you'd have to earn it. Chances are, he'll ask you to do something for him." "A favor?" Charmian said. A shake. "More like a task." She pulled one hand out and lifted a stick to poke at the nearest fire. "The North Wind is a gambler. He loves games. Chances are, he'll set you some sort of task for his own amusement, to see if you can 'win.'" "Games...?" The blood slowly drained from Charmian's face and she rubbed at her suddenly chilly arms. Mudroot nodded. "That's about right." She looked at Charmian and frowned. "What is it? You look like a Whittiko just rubbed against you." "Oh..." Charmian tried not to shiver harder, pulling her arms inside her vest and extending her hands toward the fire. "Nothing...it's just...the last person I had to fight off had a thing for games..." Mudroot's face brightened a little. "Well then! There you go." When Charmian just gave her a blank look she started scowling again. "I have to draw a picture? Take what you learned from THAT experience and apply it to THIS one! Chances are you were taught that lesson for a reason!" "Ask Chakenapok for help...?" Charmian's voice trailed off and she stared at the fire pensively. Thomas scootched closer to her. "Do you have any advice as for how to reach him?" he asked. "It looks like whatever you just tried, it didn't quite work..." "Stands, of course, was sending you up quite the wrong path," Mudroot said to Charmian. "Another reason why I knew something was wrong! If you want to reach the North Wind you're going to have to climb up the ice sheet itself. It goes right up between the mountains, and they say that at its highest point, it leads you right to the entrance to the mountain itself." "Climb the glacier?" Charmian blurted out. She waved her hands. "But--that thing's HUGE! It's practically a wasteland! How are we expected to make it up there--?" "What's this we business?" Mudroot retorted. "If you think that ALL of you stand a chance of making it, then you have a serious problem!" Charmian blinked. "Huh--?" Mudroot snorted and poked at the fire again. "ONLY one of you can head up there!" she replied. "Maybe two, three at the most. But all of you--? No way under the sun! You might think there's safety in numbers but like you just found out, you don't know how the Whittikos think. The more of you there are, the greater your chances of all setting upon each other the moment one gets hold of you. Whittikos work like madness. Once they get hold, everyone tends to go a little crazy--you've seen what this camp is like! You think we were always like this?" "But..." Charmian glanced around the lodge, then back at the old woman. "But who of us goes? Everybody's so useful! I can't decide who goes and who stays!" "Well then, I will." Mudroot stood up and started peering around at them all, pursing her lips. "I take it you consider yourself the leader, seeing as how chatty you are!" she said to Charmian, and waved at the entryway. "So that takes care of one." She fell silent and looked again, then pointed toward the back corner of the lodge; everyone turned their heads to see two pale blue eyes staring back. "That thing. It's already Whittiko, but its spirit is clear--I took a peek at it myself before heading out after you, you think I'd just leave a thing like that here with everyone else?--so I think it might be of use if you run into a REAL one--so that takes care of two." She paused to look around once more, and the others all followed suit, curious to see who else would go. Charmian looked at Moon Wolf, then at Francois, then at Mani--she gnawed on her lip as she thought of all the possibilities. She had no clue how she would make that decision. "You," Mudroot said, pointing and then lowering herself to sit down again. "You'd be just perfect for number three." Everyone looked. Winter Born suddenly found herself the center of attention, and her eyes grew to the size of moons. She slowly started shrinking down into her dress. Charmian blinked. "Her--?" she found herself exclaiming, before a wicked look from Moon Wolf promptly silenced her, and she felt her face go red. Mudroot gave her a look. "Yes, HER! Why not? She's the perfect choice--with that winter hair of hers and everything!" She looked the little girl up and down while Winter Born tried hard not to squirm. "Sure, she's kind of small and scrawny...but I get a feeling. It's not often that I get feelings." "Feelings are STUPID!" Charmian cried. "How the heck do you make a decision like that based on a FEELING?" "Well," Mudroot said, "it was 'cause of a feeling that I thought you might stand a chance heading up that mountain, and decided to give you some ADVICE!" Charmian's face went white again and now she started shrinking. "We going now?" Pakwa inquired. "Even if she is the most appropriate choice," Thomas said, and Charmian let out her breath, relieved that someone was backing her up, "don't you think she's a mite bit young? I mean, I think even I would find it hard heading up that mountain. Maybe one of the others--?" "I'm telling you, your chances facing the North Wind are best if she goes with you," Mudroot growled. "She's practically GLOWING like the northern lights as it is, you mean you think she should stay behind--?" Silence filled the lodge. Now everyone's stares shifted toward Charmian, whose mouth had fallen open. She slowly rose to her feet, staring down at Mudroot, who frowned back. "How...how do you know that?" she asked softly. She pointed at Winter Born. "You mean--you can see that--?" "Huh?" Winter Born asked, brow furrowing. "See what?" Mudroot pursed her lips again. "You mean all the rest of you can't--?" "This is an ability she acquired only as we traveled," Moon Wolf said. "None of the rest of us can see it. Only her." "Hm." Mudroot looked Winter Born up and down. "Well...she's glowing all white and blue and green and--" "Yellow and red and purple," Charmian said, her own brow furrowing. "I know that! I'm seeing it too! But what the heck does it mean?" "Glowing?" Winter Born shot to her feet and started looking herself over. "What do you mean? Am I on fire or something--?" "Well, obviously," Mudroot sighed, sounding exasperated, "it means she's got great medicine!" "We going now?" Pakwa asked. "But she's just a kid," Charmian said, confused. "It's okay," Winter Born said meekly. "I don't mind staying behind..." Mudroot looked at her and shook her head. "Sorry, girlie--but you'd best be going along too. I rather feel the North Wind won't even bother talking to the lot of you, unless you take her along." Silence again. Charmian and Winter Born stared at the old woman, unable to speak. The fire popped and crackled. Pakwa waved his hand. "Hey! We going now--?" Charmian continued staring at Mudroot for a long moment. She turned her head just slightly, but kept her eyes on her. Moon Wolf. Are you sure about this...? You remember what the Sky Mother told you, Moon Wolf replied. You can't keep leaving her behind forever. I rather do get the feeling that this is something she's meant to do. But what about...? Don't worry about him. If he tries anything, then I will deal with him. The three of you find Kabebonikka. Worry only about that. Remember what that manitou did to the Island, and use that to drive you if you must. Charmian let out her breath. Mudroot frowned a little but she reluctantly nodded, grasping the strap of her pack and picking it up. "Fine," she murmured. "But you have to show us the right way. I don't know my way around a glacier." Mudroot stared at her for a moment, then gave a curt nod, getting to her feet again. "Good. About time somebody listened to reason." She turned for the entryway and started shuffling toward it, grasping the flap and lifting it. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Nice of you to listen to that teacher of yours for once!" she snorted, before disappearing outside. Charmian's eyes goggled. She whirled to look at Moon Wolf, but he seemed just as stunned as she was. Charmian pulled on her own hair and let out a strangled noise. "HOW THE HELL ARE THEY DOING THAT?!" Pakwa was already crouching outside, poking at a pile of furs which was sitting before the lodge. Charmian nearly tripped over it. "You can hardly head up there as you are," Mudroot said, looking over Charmian's summer clothes somewhat critically. "How you were even able to stand it this long in those skimpy things, I have no idea!" "My clothing is NOT SKIMPY!!" Charmian shouted, even as she rubbed her chilly arms and shifted from foot to foot. Mudroot kicked the pile of clothes. "Well, try these on for size. I asked the others to bring along some of their warmest clothes which look like they might fit you. You, I think you could just do with a wrap and some better moccasins," she said to Winter Born, who blushed and lowered her head a little. "You," to Pakwa, "you're set as you are. You could go up there naked and be just fine." "Eh," Pakwa said. Charmian squinched her eyes shut. "Naked Pakwa--EW!!" She snatched up the clothes and looked them over skeptically as Winter Born removed her worn little moccasins and slipped on the new ones. "How do I even put this stuff on--?" "Over your clothes," Mudroot said, getting a sour look. "Are you always so stupid?" Charmian chomped down on her own tongue and started slipping them on. There was a shirt, an odd covering that seemed to go over her shoulders and arms and needed to be tied in front, and leggings, as well as a wrap like Winter Born's and thick soft moccasins. She blinked when she realized that the wrap had a hood attached, but she felt silly putting it up and so left it hanging. Mudroot waved at one of the men, who came forward with a few pairs of snowshoes. She stooped to start lacing hers on; Charmian stared at them before scowling. "No thank you!" she retorted. "I've tried those things and they just about killed me!" "You were almost killed by snowshoes, Charmian...?" Winter Born asked, puzzled. Charmian threw up her arms. "How do you even WALK in them? They're like tie-on deathtraps!" "Well, I suggest you take your deathtraps along with you, in case you run into heavy snow, which I'm betting you will," Mudroot said, shoving the snowshoes into her hands. "Come on. Haven't got all day." She turned and set off across the camp. Charmian barely had a chance to look back at the lodge, and saw as many of its occupants as possible crowding the entryway, giving her anxious looks. Most of them ducked out of sight as soon as she noticed them, but Thomas, Mani, and Stick-In-The-Dirt remained. Thomas blew her a kiss; Mani started huffing, and Stick-In-The-Dirt's eyes grew huge and wet and he looked ready to start letting out some kind of noise that would put Peepaukawiss to shame. Charmian hurried to turn away before he could, her ears burning. Winter Born suddenly found herself having to jog to keep up. "How far up the mountain?" Charmian snapped, catching up with Mudroot. "As far as it takes you," Mudroot said. "Keep in mind I'll lead you only to the right way up the 'glayshur,' as you call it! After that, you're on your own." "Fine," Charmian sighed. "Let's just get it over with!" They made their way out of the camp, Charmian peering back once or twice to always see the tribe's occupants staring back at them from the safety of their homes. She bit her lip and fiddled with the fringe of fur on her wrap. "They think we're going to take care of the Wen--Whittikos, don't they...?" she murmured. "What else?" Mudroot snorted. "They heard your threat. No matter how empty. And you did offer to take care of that problem after your own." "Well," Charmian said, "I'm not even sure if we'll be able to convince him to take care of our problem!" "Well then," Mudroot replied. "OUR problem then won't BE a problem, will it?" Charmian had no answer. She just sighed again and stared at the crunchy ground as they wound their way slowly up the rising glacier. |