People of the Nightland(39)

The leather door curtain that covered the mouth of Ti-Bish’s cave hung in tatters. The Guide said he liked it that way, so Nashat had left it alone. No one came down here anyway. Just Nashat and a handful of slaves.

Nashat called, “Ti-Bish? I received a message that you wished to see me.” He pressed his ear close to the curtain. No sounds came from within. “Ti-Bish?”

“What?” a soft confused voice answered. “Nashat?”

“Yes. You sent a runner for me. What did you want?” Nashat massaged the tight muscles at the back of his neck.

“I did?”

“You did. May I enter?”

“Yes, of course.”

Nashat ducked beneath the curtain. The high ceiling arched five body lengths above him, its heights lost in the darkness. He scanned the chamber. A crackling fire atop a flat stone burned brightly. Several heating stones were glowing in the coals. The stone perched on a rack of whalebone in the middle of the floor to allow air to circulate below it in an effort to keep the floor from melting. The raised hearth was surrounded by thick buffalo hides. Beside the fire, a tea bag hung from a tripod. Several wooden cups and a pair of mammoth ivory tongs lay at hand near the bag.

As Nashat walked toward Ti-Bish, he grimaced. Because of the heat, the ice walls had begun to melt and shone with an unnatural brilliance. Pale blue shadows scalloped up toward the dark ceiling. Ti-Bish had few belongings: A pile of bedding hides lay rolled to the right, along with three mammoth-hide parfleches filled—Nashat presumed—with personal items. Beside the parfleches, he could see several split-tree-root baskets and a bladder of water.

Nashat waved a hand at the fire. “Do you think this is wise? Every day the Ice Giants roar and more caves collapse.” As if to accent his words, a droplet of water spattered onto the floor beside him.

Ti-Bish stared at him. “I … I called for you?”

He wore his hair in two long frizzy braids that clearly hadn’t been washed in days. His long bearhide cape, painted with tiny black ravens, looked as though he’d been sleeping in it. Ti-Bish always looked worn when he finished “talking” with Raven Hunter, but this time he looked worse than usual.

“Yes, Ti-Bish, you called for me,” Nashat sighed. “And I was glad to hear it. I feared you were still wandering the tunnels beneath the caves looking for the hole in the ice. If you’re not careful, someday you’ll get lost down there, and we’ll never find you.

Ti-Bish gave him a vague look. “There’s a—a lake of fire down there. I see things in the flames.”

“A fiery lake? No wonder the Ice Giants are melting.” Nashat barely hid his annoyance. Ti-Bish always told wild stories when he returned from his vision quests.

Nashat put a hand on Ti-Bish’s shoulder and pushed him toward the buffalo hides spread out around the fire. “Sit down, Ti-Bish. I’ll warm you some tea.”

Ti-Bish sat cross-legged and gazed up at Nashat as though waiting for further instructions.

Nashat used the mammoth ivory tongs to pull a hot river cobble from the fire and dropped it into the tea bag. Steam exploded, filling the chamber with the fragrance of dried tundra wildflowers.

He dipped one of the cups into the tea bag and handed it to Ti-Bish. “Drink this; you’ll feel better.”

Ti-Bish took the cup and smelled it, but did not sip.

“How is Raven Hunter?” Nashat asked as he dipped a cupful of tea for himself and sank to the warm buffalo hides.

“He’s worried.”

“Is he? About what? Something we’ve done?” Nashat smelled the tangy fragrance of the tea before he drank. He took small sips. Little Deer had added a few lumps of pine sap brought up from the Sunpath lands to sweeten it.

“It’s not us,” Ti-Bish said. “It’s the Sunpath People. Wolf Dreamer is watching them. They’re Singing their souls up to him.”

“Indeed? I assume that’s bad?” Blessed Spirits, spare me from having to hear more of this.

“Yes. I think so.”

“Why does Raven Hunter care? If they Sing all their souls out of their bodies, we won’t have to fight them any longer. They’ll all be dead.”

Ti-Bish blinked owlishly. “They are dead.”

Nashat studied him over the rim of his tea cup. Ti-Bish knew nothing about his attacks on the Sunpath villages. Or did he? Perhaps Little Deer or Pipe had heard some bit of gossip and repeated it. The last thing he needed was Ti-Bish wandering out and stopping his war.

Nashat said, “The Nightland clan Elders have been concerned about you. Raven Hunter kept you for ten and two days. Do you realize that?”

Ti-Bish’s brow furrowed. He swirled his tea in his cup. “He needed to speak with me. An angry Sunpath war chief is going to scout the entrances to our caves to see if we can be attacked.”