People of the Sea(45)

“My wife. There she is.”

“Where?” Tannin searched the riverbank below.

Lambkill lifted an arm and pointed with a crooked finger. “Across the river. She’s standing on the other side.” The translucent glow of evening illuminated the distant bluffs, but Tannin could barely make out the major copses of juniper trees on the highlands. He gave Lambkill a sideways glance. “She couldn’t have crossed, Lambkill. The water has been too rough. And too cold. She’d never have made it in her condition.”

“She’s had the baby.”

“She’s had the-How do you know?”

Lambkill flared his nostrils, scenting the breeze. “I can smell the blood. She gave birth somewhere close by. We must tell people. Every village we come to, we’ll sit down with the elders and tell them about Kestrel and her crime.” He nodded vehemently. “Yes, and we’ll offer great wealth to the man who catches her and brings her to us. You know how



fast Traders move. Word will travel as though it were borne on the wings of Eagle. There will be so many eyes watching the trails that she’ll never escape.”

“Lambkill, I don’t think—”

“You don’t believe me about the baby? Come on. Come with me. Right now! Come!” Lambkill ordered. “I’ll show you!” He took off at a dead run along the edge of the precipice. “This way!” he yelled when he found a game trail that led down to the river.

“Wait, Lambkill!” Tannin objected. “Our camp is up here. We can search tomorrow.” Their quails would be gone by the time they returned, eaten by the first hungry animal that passed by.

Heedlessly, Lambkill sprinted down the steep path, leaving a thick cloud of dust in his wake. His heavy jowls bounced with the jolt of his stride. “Hurry! Come on!”

Tannin shook his head and slowly followed. The rainstorms had washed stones into the trail, making the footing precarious at best. The dim gleam of evening did not help. As color drained from the land, shapes that had been distinct only moments ago melted into each other. More than once, Tannin’s moccasins slipped off an unseen stone and sent him groping for the rocky cliff to keep from toppling over the edge. Lambkill skidded and staggered but managed to reach the bottom without falling.

“Lambkill?” Tannin called. “Wait! Wait for me!”

But below, Lambkill trotted along the sandy shore at the base of the bluff. Tufts of green grass sprouted in the crevices, while pockets of reeds dotted the shore. Lambkill crouched to examine the needles of a scrawny juniper, then hurried on. Suddenly he broke into a run and vanished around the curve of a towering wall.

Tannin trotted warily behind. When he rounded the corner, he saw his brother scrambling up a narrow ledge that led to a cave—a black hole in the limestone that overlooked the river. An eerie shiver stalked up Tannin’s spine. There was something about the place, about the roar of the river,



which seemed so much louder here… This was no place for him … no place for ordinary men.

Lambkill shouted “Ha!” and fell to his knees beside a patch of grass. “Come see! I’ve found her trail!”

A-flock of goldfinches that had been perching in a clump of reeds burst into a tumult of chirps and took wing. Tannin watched them soar upward. The way they circled high overhead, they resembled sunflower petals caught in a whirlwind.

“See? What did I tell you?” Lambkill said when Tannin knelt beside him. “See the way these blades are broken? She tore up two, maybe three, handfuls.”

Tannin nodded. The blades of grass had clearly been ripped by a hand, not chewed off by grazing animals. Animals would have gnawed the blades evenly. These had jagged edges. He straightened and squinted up at the cave. From this angle, shadows cloaked the interior. Goose bumps like a thousand spiders’ feet prickled across his skin. “Do you think she’s still there?”

Lambkill snarled, “I already told you! She’s on the other side of the river.” Gravel screeched beneath his moccasins as he trotted up the incline toward the cave.

Forcing himself to ignore his premonition, Tannin ducked through the entry behind Lambkill—and gave a throttled cry. He stumbled over his feet trying to get out.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lambkill snarled irritably.

“Don’t you see them? Look!” Tannin pointed to the walls and roof, where strange beings loomed like overarching trees. The red paint had flaked and faded, but their long snouts remained clear. Bolts of lightning zigzagged from their mouths, aiming straight down at Tannin and Lambkill as though to skewer them like bugs. “This is a Power place, Lambkill! We should leave. These creatures—”