People of the Sea(191)

Tannin shrugged. When the fire on the hilltop flared in the breeze, the reflected light danced across his sweating face. “If Sunchaser lives. He didn’t look so good to me. But so what? Why should we care?” Tannin laughed as though greatly amused. “You know the stories about women unfortunate enough to be snared into marriage with a Dreamer. They’re miserable!”

Still laughing softly, Tannin spread his arms wide in a negligent gesture and shook his head. “Come on, Lambkill. Let’s go. Kestrel isn’t important enough to cause this rift between us. You’re my brother and I…” He leaped forward with the swiftness of Weasel snatching Vole and grabbed Lambkill’s knife hand.

“Ah!” Lambkill blurted and shoved Kestrel to the dirt.

Tannin kicked Lambkill’s feet out from under him and fell on his brother, and Kestrel crawled away, trying to find a rock or a branch to use as a club. Tannin and Lambkill struggled against each other, rolling over and over, fighting for the knife. Dirt caked their pants and shoulders, and the pack on Lambkill’s back. The mica flakes in the pack glittered darkly in the moonglow. “You… traitor!” Lambkill raged from where he lay beneath Tannin. “You’ve always hated me!”

Tannin slammed a fist into Lambkill’s face and chest, then used Lambkill’s weight against him by lifting him off the ground by his short arms and slamming his head down until Lambkill grunted.

Through gritted teeth, Tannin responded, “That’s … not true… Lambkill. I love you. I have always loved you. That’s why I came on this… journey with you.”

Scrambling to her feet, Kestrel snatched up a palm-sized stone and held it over her head as she stepped forward



across the damp grass, waiting for an opening to use it on Lambkill.

When he saw her, he went wild. He shrieked and twisted, throwing Tannin first one way, then the other, until he could bring up his knee and bash Tannin in the groin repeatedly. When Tannin gasped and bent double, Lambkill shoved him over on his back, seized the knife and straddled him.

Kestrel lunged forward with her upraised stone, but before she could strike him, Lambkill slashed out with his knife and cut a deep wound in her right thigh. She stumbled sideways and fell, throwing her stone with all her might. It struck Lambkill in the back, and he roared in rage.

“Lambkill, don’t do this!” Tannin pleaded, fighting to keep his grip on his brother’s knife hand. Lambkill’s skin seemed to slip from his grasp like a wet eel.

“I’ve wanted to kill you for over a moon, brother,” Lambkill said as he wrestled with Tannin, trying to wrench his hand free.

“Lambkill, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not… well. That dead baby has made you—”

“Don’t speak about my son!” Lambkill bellowed. “Never talk about him! You wanted him dead. I made him live!” He tore his hand free from Tannin’s grip and with one quick movement, slashed Tannin’s throat.

Kestrel screamed when blood gushed. Tannin made a hideous choking noise and flailed desperately at Lambkill, but Lambkill only caught his arms and pinned them over Tannin’s head, staring his brother in the eyes as the blood drained from his body. Each panicked pumping of Tannin’s lungs blew a crimson spray over Lambkill’s face and chest. Red bubbles frothed at Tannin’s lips as his mouth worked in soundless pleas. He kicked and squirmed against Lambkill’s hold.

Kestrel wove drunkenly as she limped away up the hill. Only a croak would come from her bruised throat: “Help! Horseweed! Horseweed, I’m down here! Sumac! Yucca Thorn!”



“I’m coming!” Lambkill yelled at her. “I’m right behind you. Hear my footsteps?”

And she did hear them—they were closing fast. Kestrel fell into sobs when she reached an especially steep part of the trail and her moccasins slipped on the dew-slick grass. Blood ran hotly down her leg from the knife wound. She clawed at the grass, hauling herself up, scrambling five more steps.

“Listen, woman.” His voice had dropped to a horrifying whisper. “I’m coming. I’m almost on top of you! Soon you’ll be dead!”

Kestrel stumbled and fell to her knees, screaming. She slid ten hands back down the grassy slope on her stomach. When she rolled to her back and scrambled to rise, she found Lambkill leaning over her, a savage glitter in his eyes. The faint reflection of the village bonfire coated his jowls as they shook with laughter.

“Oh, yes, my loving wife. It’s time we left here. You and I. Together,” He extended a hand to her in such a genial way that it terrified her.