Prologue Previous Chapter

Shara

Shara sat bolt upright in bed. Dread gnawed through her bones, burrowing deep into her heart, but the dream was already fading, the golden auras vanishing as swiftly as they came. The theme, however, remained.Danger. Betrayal.

But from what?

Shara closed her eyes again, trying to shut out the outside world, focusing on the fleeting images. A flower, a tree, a glimpse of the mark on her shoulder.

Uneasily, she rubbed her shoulderblade, her fingers brushing over the mark of the three purple splotches that she shared with her mother and her sister.

A llower, a tree, the mark, what else.

A glimpse of a web, grey fur–

Outside in the night, someone shrieked, and she looked up, pulse quickening. But no, it was a shriek of joy, or love, not pain.

Shara closed her eyes again, but the dream was truly gone this time.

Sighing, she threw on her long shirt and crept silently past Reya and Oola, out into the warm night. They had been given two of the great huts, much to the annoyance of the families that lived there. But Zar had spoken to them, and they had reluctantly abandoned their homes, building simple shelters from buffalo skin and sticks.

She had watched intently as they assembled their homes, envious of their deft hands, their solid construction. Father would have been so happy here. Shara screwed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting back the tears.

After a while, she glanced up at the moon, wiping her eyes, but it gave her no comfort. It was coming back, thickening slightly every night. She could even see the faint shimmering shapes of the moon-eaters, leaping out of the night to add a glowing chunk back to the ragged edge. But already, she could see that it was wrong, that the familiar features she had grown up with were gone, replaced with broken lines and dark crags.
A tiny flicker of silver in the sky, and another bit of moon was added.

A gentle splash from the river caught her attention, and she turned to find a strange, dark figure in the water, gently weaving back and forth. Shara froze, ice water running through her neck and back, mouth dry, teeth chattering.

After a moment, the figure moved and the form became familiar. Just a girl.

Shara sighed, disgusted at her own fear.

The girl looked up. “Who’s there?”

Shara stepped forward. “I am Shara.” The girl seemed familiar, but she couldn’t remember the name.

“Shara, from Red Cave?”

“Yes.”

The little girl splashed out of the river. She had seen two hands of summers, perhaps more. “I am Ami. What are you doing up so late?”

“I had a bad dream, and I couldn’t sleep.”

Ami walked over to her slowly. “Thank you for teaching me the Song.”

Of course. Oppa, unlike old Shaman, wanted everyone to know the Song. She had selected five Yellow Valley tribeswomen to learn the song – one was Ami’s mother… What was her name? Ami had stayed nearby, listening and practicing with them.

They had learned quickly. Soon, they wouldn’t need her teaching.

That thought disturbed her somehow, but she shrugged it off.

“Be safe.” Ami said, and scampered off towards the fire.

All hope of sleep vanished, as Shara could feel the tension slithering through her chest and arms. Be safe? Safe from what? What was the danger? Her eyes turned eastwards, towards the mountains, invisible in the darkness. Jiant she thought, and she could almost picture him, perched on a ledge somewhere, staring down at the village. We need to warn them.

But Barak had forbidden it.

Walking through the village, she sat down in front of the great fire, warming herself. The night passed very slowly, and she occupied herself casting bits of grass and wood into the fire, watching them curl and burn, pondering the girl’s warning.

As the rest of the tribe started to rise, she busied herself preparing meals for the others. Everyone gratefully accepted her food, thanking her and smiling. Perhaps Shaman had been wrong – perhaps the spirits wanted their gifts to be shared. She shrugged inwardly. That was a question that would have to be answered by someone else, someone wiser than she.

Oppa joined the women after breakfast, and she taught the customs and rules of Yellow Valley, not so different from their own, except in some. She would have been a woman in this tribe more than a year earlier – in Yellow Valley a girl became a woman when she had her first moon-blood.

Mika smiled broadly – she had just started her flow that winter. “When does a boy become a man?”

Oppa cackled. “When a woman will have him.”

Shara laughed with the others. I think I’ll like this place after all. Only Reya did not join in, rubbing her belly uncomfortably.

After noon, the women gathered to practice the Song again. Ami’s mother was there, but not Ami.

“Where is your daughter?”

“Ami?” The woman asked, confused. Shara was too embarrassed to ask her name.

“Yes. I spoke to her last night. I would like to speak to her again.”

“Oh.. she is… not well.”

She’s lying. But why?

The day’s practice went badly. They could handle the basics of the song itself, but they barely produced any food when they sang it. And the food they did make was bitter and dry.

Frustrated, Shara returned to the hut. Reya was resting within.

“You got up early.”

Surprised that she noticed, Shara smiled. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a bad dream.”

Reya sat up. “A true dream?”

Shara shook her head. “I don’t remember what happened in it. But I am worried about this place. I think we may be in danger.”

Reya shook her head slightly. “No. This is a good place. There are children here, and other mothers, to help me take care of my baby.” Reya frowned as she spoke. “This is a good place.” She repeated.

Shara shrugged. Arguing with Reya was like arguing with a storm cloud. Besides, she was completely exhausted from worrying all night. Lying down in her bedding, she pushed away the fears, and let sleep find her.

=-=

Shara sat bolt upright in bed. Dread gnawed through her bones, burrowing deep into her heart.

But this time, she remembered the dream, and the golden lights seemed to shimmer before her eyes for a moment. Scrambling out of bed, she rushed outside. The gloom of night had already settled across the village. Songs and cheers went up from the campfire. A feast. Our feast. Why didn’t anyone wake me?

Never mind that. She ran at full speed towards the throng, searching for a friendly face. Barak was wrestling with one of the hunters from the village, a man much larger and more muscular than he, but Barak stood his ground. Bending backwards, he twisted and spun, and in a moment the larger man was lying on the ground, laughing, as everyone cheered.

She fought her way through the spectators. “Barak. Barak!” she shouted. Finally, with a last strong shove, she broke through the circle. Still laughing, he turned to her, and then saw her face.

Laughter gone, he came up close to her. “What is it?”

“A true dream. Wolves…” she paused. “Jiant-sized wolves.”

Barak was instantly in motion. “Lam, Oola,. Din, Pak, Get your spears” he called out, and they immediately responded, dashing out of the crowds and towards their hut. He turned to go, but was blocked by Chief Zar. “Barak. What is this?” The chief seemed quite tense.

Frustrated at the delay, he angrily answered back. “Shara has had a true dream. We are all in danger.” Wriggling past the chief, he pushed his way violently through the crowd. “I must get my spear.”

Shara followed, eager to help, but he was running at an incredible speed. “They will come from across the river.” She called out. He nodded briefly as he sped out of sight.

Turning back to the Yellow Valley people, her whole body shivering with adrenaline, she shouted out. “I have had a true dream. Wolves will be attacking the village soon. They will come across the river.”

Zar immediately barked orders, and several of his hunters scattered into the night. “Get back to your huts.” He shouted to the women and children.” The feast was over in an instant as everyone scattered. He jogged over towards Shara. “We have knowledge of true dreams as well.” He marched off in the direction of the river. Shara followed.

In short order, every hunter in the village was standing at the edge of the river, spear in hand, scanning the darkness. The wind gusted briefly across the plain, whistling through the grass. Nothing stirred from the darkness.

They stood and waited. Shara felt a flush of embarrassment starting to creep up her neck. Some of the tribesman began to mutter quietly.

Chief Zar turned to her. “Where are these wolves?” He asked, his voice quiet.

“I don’t know.” She said, shaking her head miserably. “Maybe it was just a normal dream.”

It had the golden flash. All of the true dreams have had the golden flash.

Barak spoke up. “If Shara says it is a true dream, it will come to pass. Perhaps not tonight.” Shara stared at him, torn between suspicion and joy.

Chief Zar frowned. “We can’t spend our days and nights guarding the village from imaginary wolves.” Turning to his tribesmen, he waved his spear in the air. “Go home.” He shouted. “False alarm.”

The Yellow Valley people disappeared into the village, leaving just the Red Cave clan standing in the thin moonlight. Shara turned and stared at the river, the back of her neck prickling with distress. What if I am wrong? No one would believe her again.

“It’s not fair.” She whispered to the darkness. “The golden dreams come true. They always did.”

The only answer was the occasional whisper of the wind, whistling through the grassy fields. She could see her friends and companions pacing through the village, tracing a path along the edge. Even Din and Pak were patrolling, their spears too large for their small forms.

“I’m sorry.” She said to them quietly, as they passed.

“Sorry for what?” Din asked. “I want to catch a wolf!”

“Me too.” Pak added, stabbing his spear at the air. “I’m gonna get it right in the eye.”

In spite of herself, Shara laughed and watched them walk away. “Don’t stab them in the eye, Pak. Stab them in throat.” “You stab them in the throat. You can’t hit them in the eye, anyways.” “I can too. I’ll show you!” Their words drifted away into the night.

A patch of gray flashed in the darkness, and was gone.

“Did you see that?” She hissed, both terrified and delighted. “Barak?” She called out. Barak turned and jogged towards her. “What?”

She pointed at the river. “Over there. Near those bushes. I saw something moving.”

Barak hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.” She barked, close to tears. “There is something out there.”

Readying their spears, the Clan spread out to protect more of the shore. Everyone stared intently into the distance.

“What was that?” Pak yelled, excitedly, pointing off to the west. Shara quickly followed his direction, but saw nothing.

“What did you see?” Lam.

“Was it a wolf?” Oola.

“How many did you see?” Mika.

“Din, ” Barak ordered, “go get some burning sticks from the fire. We will go and find out what is out here.”

A bloodcurdling cry of fear and pain poured across the camp from the far side, and was too quickly cut short.

“Stay here.” Barak shouted, turning and racing off towards the cries.

Shara whirled and stared at the river. They saw us waiting, and tried something different. She ran after Barak, struggling to keep up as he dashed between the huts.

“Mamma? Mamma?” A little girl cried in the darkness. Shara rounded a corner, and slammed into Barak’s back as he stood in front of the wailing toddler.

“They baited us.” He said, bitterly, staring at the child. “We all went over to the river, and they attacked from the other side.”

“Barak!” Din shouted across the camp. “They are coming!”

The Yellow Valley people were rousing from their huts now, fear on their faces. “What is it? What happened?”

A deep, low howl erupted from the darkness. It swept over the camp, shattering nerves and shredding courage. Other wolves added their voices to the call, and it seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“Hunters grab your spears!” Zar shouted over the screams of the children. “Everyone else back in the huts.”

A dire shape shot out of the darkness, forcing its way between the huts, its shoulders ripping thatch from the sod roofs as it passed. Eyes bright with the hunt, it charged after a man as he ran down the path, gathering itself to leap at him, mouth agape. “Look out!” Shara screamed, but the man, running for his spear, didn’t even see his death approaching, as it caught him between its jaws, the massive head shaking him like a rat as he screamed in agony. In a moment, it was past them, bounding out into the darkness, the cries of pain echoing across the plain.

“They’ll slaughter us.” Barak muttered.

“Mamma?” The girl cried.

“Get back in your hut.” He roared. Instead she stared at him, frozen to the spot, shivering.

Shara knelt down in front of the girl. “We need you to get inside right now, ok?”

The girl stared at her. “Mamma?”

“Your mamma will find you, if you go inside.” Shara said, heart breaking. Nodding, the girl turned and ran inside the hut. “Hide under the blankets!” She yelled after, as a crack and growl and muffled screams erupted from nearby. Whirling, she stood up, staring at the huts.
“Watch out!” Barak cried, shoving her sideways as a wolf descended on her. Diving sideways, she rolled out of the way as Barak leapt upwards, driving his spear into the side of the wolf’s head. Instantly, it stumbled and collapsed, a fountain of blood erupting from the wound, spilling across his face chest. “Hit them in the ear.” He grunted, wiping his eyes and yanking his spear from the bloody fur.

Nodding, Shara chased the savage chorus of snarls around the curve of the building, stumbling to a stop as a wolf with snow-white fur buried its body into a massive tear in the skin-and-bone wall. It shoved forwards again and the hut shuddered, the roof collapsing around it.

“Hey, get out of there!” She yelled.

The wolf pulled its head from the hole and stared at her with pink eyes, its muzzle crimson with gore. Lowering its head, it bared its teeth, a menacing growl rumbling from deep within its belly as it crept towards her.

“No,” She whispered, the spear dangling in her hands as its pale eyes locked on hers.

Oola screamed, flying through the air, burying her spearpoint in the beast’s side. It yelped in pain, whipping its head around to catch her in its teeth, but she dodged away, pulling her spear out with her, blood dripping along its side.

Eye contact broken, Shara’s courage returned, and she rushed forward, silently this time, thrusting her own spear into the opposite side as it turned towards Oola.. The monster yelped again, and, gathering its feet, it leapt away, ripping the shaft from her hands. She had a glimpse of the fluffy tail, sailing across the top of a hut before it disappeared into the night, spear still buried in its side.

“Good strike.” Oola said, climbing back to her feet.

“You saved my life.” Shara said. “I couldn’t move.”

Oola shook her head. “You saved mine. If you–”

A wolf flew out of the darkness towards Oola’s back, bloody teeth glinting sharply in the firelight.

With a golden flash, Shara launched her spear at the beast, striking it between the eyes. Instantly, it tumbled to the ground, its fierce yellow eyes dulling quickly as blood trickled from its mouth.

Oola whirled around, raising her own spear, and then lowering it as she saw the body. Turning, she stared at Shara. “Where did that spear come from?”

Shara stared at the spear, still quivering, the scent of blood and death rising from the corpse. Where indeed?

But there was more shrieking, and another wolf, blood-spattered fur as black as a cave rushes past with a man caught in its jaws, wailing in terror. Oola whirled and stabbed at it, too late, and it sailed by, over the corpse of the grey, into the darkness.

Oh no! Leaping forwards, Shara ripped the spear from the dead ones face and launched it at the fleeing target. Just one shot. With a golden flash, the spear sizzled through the air, striking the beast between the ears, sending it flipping head over heels, smashing into the side of a hut. Hunters appeared from all around, stabbing at the beast, helping the man out from its mouth.

Shara smiled, gasping as she stood over the massive head. She stared down at the sightless eyes. “I saved one from you.” She said.

“Shara, what is going– Look out!” Oola shrieked.

Shara spun, too late, and she felt the hot breath and the sharp pains as teeth closed around her middle.

Oola struck at the side, her arms a blur, but all it seemed to do is send the teeth biting harder into her skin. She could feel her blood pouring out, hot against her skin. The beast lurched and kept running, as Oola called to her from behind.

The wolf turned, and Oola was gone.

Shara was floating slowly through the air, the wind tugging lightly at her hair. Hut.. Hut.. Grass. Water. It’s so… peaceful…

Don’t give up!

Pain ripped through her stomach, and she jerked her head up, moaning as the sharp knives ground at her bones. She could see Oola’s spear, dangling against the beast’s side. Stretching out, she reached for the spear, but as if it knew was she was planning, the wolf whipped its head sideways, popping her ribs like so many twigs. She could feel its slimy tongue rubbing up against her, licking her blood as its hot spit rushed around her.
I will not be your dinner.

Closing her eyes, Shara opened her hand.

I need a spear.

With a golden flash, a spear appeared in her hand. Shrieking in rage, she stretched her arm back and swung hard, burying the spear in the beast’s dark eye.

It stumbled and fell, her legs catching against the ground, wrenching her ankles sideways as the monster’s dead weight pressed against them. Her knees exploded in pain as the grass rushed at her face, the teeth grinding deeper into her flesh, bones snapping, a crushing weight flattening her chest.

Dropping the spear, Shara whimpered weakly as she pushed at the mouth, her lungs filling with fluid. The world began to turn grey, the pains fading away. Closing her eyes, she focused the last bits of her strength into her arms, shoving at the mouth, smiling faintly as she felt it give way, letting her tumble to the soft earth.

=-=

The moon twinkled in the sky overhead, and she watched a moon-eater carrying another piece back, planting it along the edge of the crescent. Another followed, and then another. Around her, cricked chirped happily, as if nothing had happened, no attack, no wolves.

Grunting and shivering, Shara climbed to her feet, staring around her. The village stood, across the river, the great bonfire at the center flickering above the tops of the huts, people screaming and barking orders in the night. A low, rattling sigh echoed from the wolf, and she stumbled away, staring warily at the beast. But no, it was dead, and she…

How badly am I hurt?

She was covered in blood, but there were no wounds, no pain.

????

A new round of shrieks and growls erupt from the village. No time to worry about the damage now. Yanking Oola’s lost spear from the wolf’s furry stomach, she races back to the village.

But by the time she gets there, it’s all over. Reya is standing in front of the corpses of a pair of gray wolves, a small boy clinging to her leg, shrieking in fear.

“Sh– Shara?” Oola rushes over, hugging her fiercely. “I thought you were dead.” She said, her body shaking.

“I’m okay.” Shara said, gently returning the embrace. “Here’s your spear.”

Oola stares at it, making no move to take it. “Shara… What happened?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Zar approaching. “I’ll tell you later.”

“That was the last of them.” He said. “Come over to the fire.”

Warily, she caught Barak’s eye and he shook his head, and shrugged, following after the chief.

The others fell in behind him, stumbling and shaking. For once, even Pak is drooping, leaning heavily against his brother.

“We must keep watch through the night, in case more wolves come.” Zar said as they circled around the fire.

More!? She hadn’t even thought of that.

“In the morning, when the sun has risen, we will celebrate. You, people of the Red Cave, now people of the Yellow Valley… you have saved many lives today.”

And then he paused, and dropped his head. “But many were lost, and we must prepare them for the spirit journey.”

The rest of the night passed very slowly, the grief of loss hanging heavy over the village. She tended to wounds and fears as best she could, hugging and holding the children, smiling as best she can through her tears.

Finally, the sky began to lighten in the east and relief seemed to settle like a blanket over them all, easing their fears, soothing their woe, just a little. Quietly everyone gathered again at the campfire, half-heartedly easting a simple breakfast of blueberries and honey. Shara found her friends, clustered in a group along one edge of the fire. Mika leaned quietly on Lam’s shoulder, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion. A pair of claw-scrapes ran across her cheek, blood oozing down her jaw, staining her clothes. Shara’s eyes flew open for a moment, as she realized that Mika’s burn scars were completely gone, the skin between them smooth and fair. Just like she did before the ants.

“Barak.” Lam said. “Your training saved us.”

Barak nodded slowly. “But you made the kills.” He eyed each of them in turn. “You did very well.”

Shara was too tired of being suspicious, and her whole body trembled at the unexpected joy of his words.

Guided by her escort, Oppa limped up to them, carrying a bowl full of bright red liquid. They fell quiet as she approached. “You.. people of the Red Cave. Today we celebrate your courage, your powerful magic.”

She holds up the bowl. “Drink this. It will give you strength for the coming day. “

It was sweet, and flowery, quite delicious.

Flowery?

For some reason, that bothered her.

Oppa waves at the ground. “Sit.. We will dance for you.”

The warmth of the stone is welcome after the chill night, and she suddenly felt terribly tired. The villagers dance for them, slowly spinning and calling, but it still made her dizzy all the same, the flashes of color battling with the roar of the flames.

Her head shook, and she realized that she had fallen against the ground.

“Shara?” Oola said, her voice distant and sleepy.

The fires danced sideways in her eyes, the villagers dancing still, seemingly unconcerned with her collapse.

So tired. Did she give me the wrong drink? Why would she–

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Monday, July 3rd, 2006 at 11:15 pm.
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