Coyote's Daughter Page 8

  Ash looked up at me, pain and betrayal clear on his face. Maybe a little relief that I was unhurt, but I probably made that up to make myself feel better.

  Shriveled Corn Man drew a long stick from his sash, and advanced on Ash. "You broke your silence. You have lost."

  "Leave him alone!" I rushed at the old man, but he swatted me to the ground. Jack ran up and stood in front of me, growling at the enemy.

  "Now go!" He struck Ash with the stick, and Ash . . . changed. It was terrible.

  When Coyote changes, his form melts, shifts from one shape to the other, as easy as breathing. This was different. I could see Ash's bones crack, his skin ripple, his body twist in on itself. It looked horrible and painful, and, oh, the sound . . . Ash screamed, and I shut my eyes and clamped my hands over my ears where I sprawled in the dirt.

  Then the screaming stopped. I looked up, and Ash was gone. All that was left was a large black crow who looked at me with bright eyes.

  "Go!" commanded Shriveled Corn Man with a stomp. The black bird flew up, circled overhead, then winged away to the west.

  Chapter Eight

  I couldn't say anything, couldn't speak, couldn't move.

  Shriveled Corn Man gave one more snort of laughter, then walked away into the hills. He didn't even look at me, I was so unimportant, so unworthy. And he was right.

  I lay on my side, crying into the dust. Jack licked at my face, and I pulled him down to me and wrapped myself around his furry warmth.

  I couldn't think. I had failed Ash, failed Coyote and Spider Old Woman. I thought of my parents, and how happy they had been to move to the new house. They would hate it here now, the too-big new house would just remind them they had lost me, and they would never know why. How long would they stay and wait for me to return?

  A fresh wave of tears rolled over me, and then a clicking sound worked its way through my ears, into my thoughts.

  I scrambled to sit up. The proof of my complete exhaustion, both physical and emotional, was I didn't run away screaming. Not that I had anywhere to run to. Two figures wove between the houses on the edge of the village, circling, looping, and headed my way.

  After the last few days I didn't know if they were human. They looked like men, but with bodies striped in rings of gray and white, like mutant zebras gone horribly wrong. They wore tall boots of white leather, and leather kilts.

  I hoped they wore masks; featureless faces topped by a shock of hair and feathered antennae. I couldn't figure out what caused the clicking sound, for they danced toward me with a smooth, shuffling step, and the leather boots looked as if they would be soft as whispers on the ground.

  One figure twirled and I shuddered. The clicking noise came from the hooves of a deer, hung from their broad white sashes. Gruesome. Then I thought what Dad would say. He'd point out that in a culture that used all of the other parts of an animal for food, clothing, and shelter, I should expect them to find uses for even the smallest part.

  I brushed the dust off my jeans and stood up. Thinking like Jack helped me roll with things as they came. Maybe thinking like Dad would help me solve the puzzles of what to do next. I turned to watch them, tried to keep them both in view, but they passed behind me, and I couldn't spin fast enough.

  They came closer, circled me, waiting. Finally I had enough.

  "Stop it! I've been harassed and bullied and I don't know what all today. If you're going to do something to me, do it. If you're going to help me, help. If not, just go away!"

  So, my resolve to act like an anthropologist didn't last long. I knew the words were stupid even as I yelled, but fear spoke louder than sense.

  The striped figures stopped circling me and looked at each other. One shrugged, and they walked toward me. As they came closer, I could see they were men, beneath all the paint. At least, I was pretty sure they were.

  "We did not intend to frighten you."

  They dropped to the ground at the same time on opposite sides of me. "Will you not sit?"

  I backed up a few paces so that I could see them both at the same time, and then sat back down. Jack wandered over to the one on the left, and started snuffling. He was satisfied with what his nose found, and flopped to the ground for belly rubs. The man didn't look away from me, but reached out and absently scratched Jack's fur. Jack's acceptance was a good sign and I felt myself relax, at least a bit.

  "Little one, you have pushed matters along. Now you must fix things."

  I sputtered. "Why me? Ash said there was no one left in the village, but you're here. Why can't you go fix things? I don't even know what's going on!"

  The other one spoke. "We are the Kossa. We guard the law, and enforce it. Technically, Shriveled Corn Man has not broken the law, has not done anything for which we can punish him."

  "Did you see what he did to Ash? He hurt him, and changed him . . ." My voice trailed off, and I stared at the ground. I couldn't accept what had happened—especially the thought that it was my responsibility.

  "What we saw, and what you saw, were different things."

  My head snapped up to look at him. "Different things? How?"

  "What we saw was a challenge of pinang. It is not uncommon for one sorcerer to challenge another to a test of endurance or strength. The challenge lasts for a set number of days, during which one or the other must maintain a vow of silence. A sorcerer can use much of his energy trying to get another sorcerer to speak against his will. There are tricks and traps, visions of lost loves, dangers that may or may not be real. At the end of the time, if the attempt to force strength is unsuccessful, the attacking one is much weakened. It is a serious risk, and often a deadly game."

  My voice was very small. "And if the one who was supposed to stay silent speaks? Even a little bit?"

  "Then his opponent has won, and has power over him."

  I didn't say anything for a long time. They sat, and waited for me to understand their words. Jack moved over to the other Kossa; now it was his turn to pet the dog.

  "What do I do now? There is something I can do about all of this, right? If not, can I go home?"

  The one now scratching Jack shook his head. "The path to your world is closed. You must defeat Shriveled Corn Man to reopen it. In doing so, you will also free your friend and his village."

  "How do you expect me to do that? I'm not a sorcerer, I don't have magic, I don't know how anything works here. How can I defeat him?" I thought of that horrible old man and his evil smile and shuddered. I didn't want to go anywhere near him.

  I waited for their response. After a long while they announced, "We do not know how you can defeat him."

  "What?"

  "But," they continued as if I hadn't just shrieked at them, "If you travel for three days in that direction," he pointed past the hills where Shriveled Corn Man had headed, "You will find Spider Old Woman, and she will be able to help you."

  "I see Spider Old Woman in my dreams," I argued. "Can't I just ask her when I sleep?"

  They shook their heads in unison, and their feather antennae swayed back and forth. It should have been funny, but I was terrified and furious, and that didn't leave room for much else.

  "No. We are sure you need to speak with her here, in this world."

  "But why?"

  "It is how things are. Her power in dreams may not cross into events here."

  "This is exactly what I'm talking about. If I don't know the rules of the game, how do you expect me to win?"

  The Kossa stood; the movement of each perfectly mirrored his twin. It was a bit eerie. "There will be help. You will be fine." They turned to go. "Besides, if you want to go home, what choice do you have?"

  They shuffled off in their looping dance, and I lost sight of them between the houses. I would have loved to come up with a snappy comeback, but they were right: I had no choice.

  Jack wandered back to me, looking a little disappointed that his new scratching friends had left.

  "Come on, boy. We should go." I started toward t
he hills, then noticed the shadows. They were long, and the sun was low. If we started out now, we wouldn't make the hills before dark. And it had been a terrible day.

  "Maybe we should go back to Ash's hut."

  A lump formed in my throat just thinking about Ash. I pushed the thought away and focused on right here, right now.

  "Dinner, and some planning, and then bed for us."

  We walked back to the hut; it was dark by the time we reached it, but at least I had made one good decision that day.

  I munched on the apples, sweet, but not quite enough. Jack ate the last of his food without a care in the world. He flopped down to sleep when he came back inside, while I lay awake, worried about what to do about supplies. I read somewhere that people can go without food for three days as long as they have water. I wondered if we had enough containers to hold three days’ worth of water.

  Finally sleep took me, and I saw Coyote standing in front of one of the houses.

  I ran toward him. I should have been glad to see him, should have asked for advice, but I was too angry.

  "Why didn't you warn me not to interfere? Tell me what was going on, tell me anything?"

  I stopped short as he turned and walked away.

  "Wait! Where are you going?"

  "I am not going to stand here to be fussed at by an ignorant child. I have other places I can be, other people who ask for my help. I will not stay with someone as ungrateful as you."

  I tried to get myself back together. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled; I'm just upset, and worried." I took a deep breath. "And I'm scared. Please come back."

  He stopped, back still toward me. "We are all worried. I thought you were clever. I thought you could solve this."

  "How?" I tried to keep my voice level. My mom always says to mind my tone of voice. I never hear what she's talking about, but I'll bet it's something Coyote knows about, and would catch me on.

  He turned back and walked toward the cottonwood tree where only a few days ago I had sat with Ash. "Let's go sit in the shade."

  I trailed behind him, and sat when he did.

  "Now. I know you want us to help. And we will, the best we can. But we can't do much from here. You'll have to come find us."

  "Why can't you tell me now? You're here, I'm here. Why not tell me how to defeat Shriveled Corn Man now, and save everyone time?"

  "I can tell you how to find Spider Old Woman. I can give you advice on how to survive here. But more than that must wait until we are together in the real world."

  "But . . ."

  "You said before you don't understand how the rules of pinang work. This is one of them. You'll either have to trust me or not. And if you don't trust me, there's nothing I can do for you, either here, or in the real world."

  I stopped and thought. This was a logic puzzle. You know, one of those riddles about one guy who always lies, and one guy who always tells the truth, and you have to figure out which is which. I needed to unravel out how Coyote could help me here, and use that information to move on.

  "Alright. What can you actually help me with?"

  He shook his head. "Answering questions." Coyote grinned. "But that was a good try."

  So it needed to be specific questions. I made a mental list.

  "If we have to go find you, what are we supposed to do about food?"

  "That is the easiest task. Those who lived here before will not begrudge you taking some of their winter stores. Try to borrow only a small amount from each, and few will even notice. There will be dried meat hung from the roof beams, and cornmeal in clay pots, and dried berries in baskets."

  "What about water?"

  "You will find skins; fill up as many as you can from the stream by your friend's hut. You will not be able to trust all of the water that flows in the hills."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Just what I said. Do not trust other water."

  "What about Jack? I can't keep him from drinking when he wants to. It's not like I can explain it to him."

  Coyote bared his teeth. "Your young furry friend will be fine. He will not drink from someplace he should not. I have no worries there, and I of all people should know."

  He had better be right. Jack's as much my responsibility as Ash now. I could soften some of the dried meat for him, so I better take enough for two. Actually, three, since hopefully we'd come back with Ash.

  "How do we find Spider Old Woman?"

  "Go through the hills, as the Kossa showed you. Look for the flat-topped hill, and walk straight toward it for two days. On the evening of the second day, turn to the north, and keep going north. By the end of the third day you will find us."

  "How do you know how long it will take to walk? What if I don't walk as fast as you think I do? Or faster?"

  "I will look for you child, and make sure you don't stray too far from the path." He drew little lines in the dust. "I can make sure you do not dawdle along the way."

  No more information then. Time for the next item of my list. "I need to show you something. Can you bring my backpack here?"

  "No."

  My shoulders slumped.

  "But you can, child."

  "What?"

  "Just bring it here. You know what your bag looks like; you know what is in it. Bring it here with you."

  It sounded crazy, but so did everything else. I thought about my backpack. It's nothing special, just a big black bag with purple piping, and about a million separate pockets, because I like having all my things in their own spaces.

  I thought about how the bag looked, and what each pocket held, and in a short time noticed there was weight on my back. I reached behind me, and there it was. I knew it hadn't been before.

  "Cool. Can I do that at home too?"

  "You can try it in the dreamland there. The rules may be different."

  I shrugged. Controlling the dream was a neat trick, but what I could or couldn't do in the future wouldn't help me now.

  "I need you to look at this. Ash gave it to me, and said it was important, but I don't know what to do with it."

  I pulled out the clay figure from where I had wrapped it in my spare shirt.

  "Should I leave it here and hide it? Or take it with me? Or give it to you now?"

  I started to hand the sculpture to him, but Coyote didn't reach for it. I pulled the figure back to rest in my lap, and studied it.

  Blue and red paints decorated the clay. I thought the man-shaped figure wore a mask, but I couldn't be sure, not anymore.

  "The oxuwah is the heart of the village. Without it, Shriveled Corn Man will never truly rule here. Only when he has the oxuwah in his custody will his victory be complete."

  "Ash said something like that, but didn't explain. Shriveled Corn Man has everyone from the village either captured or killed, but he hasn't really won? How exactly does that work?"

  Coyote sighed. "You are so literal, girl. Listen to what I tell you. What does Shriveled Corn Man want?"

  I thought of the story Ash told me, and of the old man's rants. I spoke hesitantly, thinking aloud.

  "He was angry the village didn't accept him and his mother. He was angry they took in Ash, who was also an orphan. He wanted them to accept him, to be a man of power. And he was, until they started to suspect he was making people sick." I thought more. "Power! He wants power and respect."

  He smiled. "Very good. He needs total power over the village. He can hold them captive, but if he held the oxuwah, won it in a fair contest, he could also command their memories and their respect." He waved his hand toward the clay figure. "Take the oxuwah with you. You'll find a way to use it against him. He will risk much to gain complete victory."

  I racked my head for other questions I could ask, but he stood before I thought of anything else that might help.

  "You should go now, child. It is morning."

  "Wait!" I had thought of one more thing. "My parents. Please, can you tell them I'm okay, that I'm coming home soon?"

  Ev
en if I'm not, I thought, I want them to know I'm okay.

  He looked over my head into the distance, refusing to meet my eyes. "We will do what we can. They may not be willing to listen to us. The connection is not strong."

  "But, you spoke to me in my dreams. Why could you reach me?"

  "Do you not remember the first day you met Ash?"

  I thought, but couldn't come up with anything particular.

  "He was collecting the black sand. You had been playing with it earlier, and had some on your face, around your eyes."

  He laughed, a warm, gentle sound, like rain.

  "If it had not been for that one accident, a little streak of dirt, you would not have seen Ash collecting his sand. You would not have surprised him, worn his necklace, been a part of any of this."

  I reeled in shock. So much had turned on such a tiny thing as a streak of mud?

  "Wait. What do you mean I wouldn't have seen him? He was right there."

  "No one from your world would have seen him. They never have before. Ash has gone between your world and ours for many years, traveling up and down the river as he willed. None has ever taken notice. The black mud around your eyes and Jack's gave you clear sight to see what was really there."

  One slender thread of chance had brought me here. I felt stunned, and then laughed. There wasn't anything else to do about it.

  Coyote laughed with me. "Yes, I thought it was funny too. Just the sort of trick I would play."

  I stopped laughing. "But you didn't, right?"

  "No, child. I had nothing to do with it. But you can see why it might be difficult for us to reach someone in your world normally." He looked thoughtful. "You could try it, you know."

  "Try what?"

  "You have enough pinang to shape dreams, you've proven that. Surely no one would be more connected to your world and your parents than you. Think about it." He started to walk off. "You have a long day ahead of you. The sun rises, and you'll need all the time you can get to look for food before starting out."

  I scrambled to my feet and watched him turn between two houses.

  "We will see you in three days." His voice drifted back to me, and I woke.