Cradle of Sea and Soil Page 22

  “Sea and soil,” Yabisi said cheerfully. Warmaster Jhul bowed.

  Colibrí regarded the two of them with narrowed eyes. She could only imagine the restlessness of the sentinels Yabisi had left behind, and though she was sure the cacica was in good hands with her warmaster, she knew Jhul’s stiffness was the same as a frown despite his blank expression. Displeasure practically radiated from him.

  Colibrí actually pitied the warmaster. He was twice their age, maybe, an old veteran warrior that was more scars than man, who had been charged with furthering both her and Yabisi’s training during another lifetime. Jhul had a pure spirit and was deeply traditional; there was no one that cared about their warrior oaths more than the warmaster.

  That was in part what made him such a wonderful father in Colibrí’s eyes; even though his daughter was Halfborn, he had treated her the same as all his other children, and had even come to Colibrí from time to time to ask for advice.

  Yabisi walked up and slapped Colibrí on the bare half of her thigh, an inappropriately laidback gesture of familiarity, then glanced over her shoulder at Warmaster Jhul. The three of them stood together in the shade of the roots for a moment, saying nothing.

  “Get out, this is mine!”

  Yabisi scratched her chin as she eyed the wisewoman. “You don’t own the land, old one. No one does.”

  “But I own my eyesight, and you’re in it! Still no respect for your elders, I see!”

  Yabisi sighed and turned her gaze back to the Colibrí. “You seem well.”

  “What do you want?” Colibrí snapped.

  The cacica grinned. “Well, the leader of the foreigners recently came to me and begged to join our hunt. Even had a scheme that might help with the problem of our elusive little foe! Unfortunately, his trinket requires a sensitive nose. Perhaps a coyote’s nose.” She spread her arms. “I told him I knew someone just like that! What a coincidence! So, I take it you have no issues with being a scout?”

  “Only a scout?”

  Yabisi gave her a flat look. “You and your son have worked hard and thought well. Honor forces me to admit that much, but you know it was never about what you were willing to do, only what I feared you couldn’t stop yourselves from becoming.” She paused for a moment, still scratching her chin. “Your son really stirred up those memories, you know. He looked just like you.”

  Colibrí felt herself tensing and her tail paused its movement.

  “Cacica,” Warmaster Jhul interjected. He gave a diplomatic cough. “Perhaps we should focus on our purpose for coming here.”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Yabisi glared at him until the warmaster looked away, then turned back to Colibrí while smoothing her unbraided hair. “I’ve called as many warriors and spiritseers as I could, and if Jerrico’s trinket works the way we hope, we’ll soon clench our fist around the entire island and squeeze the Primordial Wound itself. I hope to slay this so-called Peacemaker during this, or at least undo all his work and drive him back to the Wound where he belongs.”

  Colibrí nodded in agreement. She had hoped for as much; if they knew they could find all of Peacemaker’s disguised gardens of Stillness, then there was no reason they shouldn’t deal with them all at once. That was her warrior heart speaking though, and she knew Yabisi wouldn’t be wrong to favor a slower, more cautious pace. After all, it’d be a challenge to manage and feed that many warriors at once, and it would thin the outer islands of their own defenders.

  “The challenge is in maintaining our strength,” Yabisi said, almost as if had read Colibrí’s thoughts. “Especially now.” She glanced at Warmaster Jhul, who cleared his throat.

  “Peacemaker has flooded the outer forest with halja, but, instead of engaging our warriors, he’s directing them to slaughter the prey we hunt and ambush wardens gathering along the edges,” Jhul explained. “He’s even sent halja along the root-bridges to the outer islands, though they’re still thin there, thankfully.”

  “What does this all mean?” Colibrí asked.

  Warmaster Jhul gave her a tired smile. “My guess is that Peacemaker noticed us gathering warriors and spiritseers. I don’t think he’s aware of our cooperation with the foreigners yet, but there’s really only one thing the cacica could intend by uniting the might of the tribes. His answer was well thought out—with halja spread out across so much land, our supplies will be strained and we’ll struggle to hunt and gather when our warbands prowl deeper into the forest.”

  “This won’t stop us,” Yabisi declared. “I’ll have the wardens harvest more deeply from the sea, but, even so, it’ll slow everything down and shorten the time I can hold so many warriors together.” Yabisi looked from Colibrí to Jhul. ”But, this is our chance to catch Peacemaker off guard. I want to do the one thing he’s trying to keep us from doing. Especially if he’s fighting for time, like I fear he is.”

  “You’ll have to disperse your warriors if we fail,” Colibrí pointed out, frowning. “That’s the same as stepping off his chest and letting him catch his breath.”

  The cacica nodded. “So we need to make certain to push down hard enough that he stops breathing.” She pointed at Colibrí. “I need you, as much as I hate to admit it, but I’m still terrified of bringing you to the Wound.”

  “I’ve already fought at the Wound,” Colibrí snapped. “You forget that I’m a true warrior.”

  “No, I haven’t. Before was before, and I see myself as fortunate more than anything else. This time, though, I don’t want to risk anything if I don’t have to; there’s a fucking magus or worse out there, and we know next to nothing about him. As if that wasn’t enough, there’s also more halja in the outer forest than we’ve ever seen before. You will not be another of our worries.”

  “Narune—”

  “Isn’t coming!” Yabisi snapped. She raised her arms. “Are you fucking listening to me? I already don’t want to bring you. You’re to stay at Warmaster Jhul’s side, and I’m sending along some of my personal sentinels to protect you from yourself. Come back the moment the warmaster declares our hunt a victory or a failure. Do you understand?”

  Colibrí frowned for a moment at the taller woman, then nodded. Her frown only deepened when the cacica slapped the bare half of Colibrí’s thigh again.

  “Good,” Yabisi said. “Don’t make me regret you a second time.” She paused and glanced between Colibrí and the warmaster. “Jhul will let you know when the warbands are ready to move. Should be soon, so keep your spear sharp and don’t go looking for any new scars.”

  With that she turned and began to leave, but paused at the side of a giant root, one hand resting on its bulk. She turned partway to glance at Warmaster Jhul, who stood waiting expectantly, his face as blank as ever.

  “Oh,” Yabisi said casually. “I almost forgot. Will you do as I demanded?”

  Puzzled, Colibrí glanced between the both of them.

  “Yes,” Warmaster Jhul replied in a voice so faint Colibrí almost couldn’t hear him. His posture, on the other hand, far more honestly showed the weight of failure that was bearing down on him.

  Colibrí’s eyes narrowed—no, she was wrong. For the briefest, faintest of moments, Colibrí saw a glimpse of nearly desperate hope.

  “I will denounce Kisari, remove her from my caney, and ensure she leaves the village,” Warmaster Jhul continued as he looked away from them. “In four days, as you graciously allowed.”

  Yabisi grunted and left, leaving her and Warmaster Jhul alone. Colibrí crossed her arms around her spear and regarded the aging warrior. He was still well-muscled and moved with a hunter’s precision, his body itself a weapon, and he carried himself like it, too, just as any predator of the forest did.

  Jhul was the very image of a warrior confident in the purpose they had been shaped for, but beneath the scars was a conflicted man.

  “You could’ve just told me,” Colibrí said to him. “We both know I’d never refuse Kisari.”

  Warmaster Jhul glanced at her. “I’m
sorry. This is a personal matter between me and the cacica. Please forget what you heard.”

  Colibrí gave him a hmm as he turned and followed after Yabisi.

  “No respect!” Lishan muttered.

  None at all. She sighed and turned to leave the wisewoman’s knoll, moving back along the coast toward her bohío. Her thoughts were as stormy as her emotions and she didn’t know where to begin in sorting it all out. It could wait.

  They at least had the seed of a plan, and the Guardian would want to know. More importantly, she might even join the hunt itself, especially if she proved more useful than Colibrí at following the Unseen Flow.

  It might even mean that Colibrí would be left behind too, but at least that would make facing Narune easier. She already dreaded telling him he couldn’t come. Especially after everything he’d been through. He’s been noble at my side, a true warrior in all but name.

  Colibrí’s tail was hanging low. She would bring Narune with her to see the Guardian; he’d like that. And Sanemoro, if she could grab hold of the sage earlier than he normally came.

  She stepped toward the entrance of their bohío and pulled aside the threaded curtain of seashells and nuts, then froze. Kisari knelt beside Narune, fussing over a fresh wound on his arm. Other wounds were already covered in aromatic leaf bandages and thick poultice, but a few were still untreated, the blood crusted, and the bruises a nasty purple hue.

  Narune glanced up as she stepped through the curtain, obviously anxious about her arrival—and may his days remain stormless, he should be. Her son tried to put on a brave face even though Colibrí could plainly see that he was in pain.

  Fears and thoughts crowded her mind all at once, but the worst were the loudest. They always were.

  She rushed to his side, dropping her spear in the process, and reached out to him.

  “Narune!” she cried. “What happened?”

  He gave her a familiar look, the one that told her he was measuring out the amount of lie needed to hide the truth. She scowled.

  “Nothing important,” he finally said at last.

  She stared at him, but Narune only stared back.

  “There really isn’t a need for you to worry,” he insisted.

  “How could I not?”

  Her foolish boy waved a hand. There was a sadness in his eyes that hinted at injuries worse than those on his body; it made her wonder. “This had nothing to do with halja or the forest. Only childish stupidity, and it was my own fault.” He looked away. “It’s not worth your attention. Peacemaker and the halja are more important.”

  Colibrí felt her fists balling, but let out a breath and felt her tail swaying slowly once again. He looked anything but fine, but she suspected she wouldn’t get anything out of him without a fight. She glanced over at Kisari, but the girl refused to look up at her. Colibrí left her be; Kisari was already dealing with enough.

  She dropped down beside them with a huff in the gloom of their bohío, scooped some poultice from a bowl Kisari had prepared, and slapped it on her son’s other shoulder.

  He winced. “Ow?”

  “I thought you were fine?”

  He wisely held his tongue and endured her treatment. When he was all bundled up, and she was sure he hadn’t broken anything, Colibrí sent Kisari back to the village to fetch Sanemoro. They waited together in the warm bohío in silence, her son picking at his wounds and Colibrí debating between what she should and shouldn’t say to him.

  In the end, she decided to trust him. She sighed and gestured. “Can you fight?” Colibrí asked. When he nodded, she added, “Then I’ll leave it at that. But I want you to know that I’ll always stand at your side if you ever need me—not as your mother, but as a fellow warrior.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  “Good.” Colibrí rubbed her forehead. “So, when Sanemoro arrives, we’re going to go with him to see the Guardian. Kisari can come too, if she wishes. I trust her more than Sanemoro in the forest.”

  That brightened him up, as she knew it would. Colibrí went and dressed in her war garb, then helped Narune into his so he didn’t disturb his bandages. They were ready by the time Kisari returned with Sanemoro in tow.

  The sage looked exhausted, and the shadows beneath his eyes were darker than usual. He also blinked too often, and all that remained of his gentle humor was a faint smile. All the sages were being pushed, every shred of their knowledge and mental capacity put to use against Peacemaker and the threat he posed; and yet Sanemoro hadn’t stopped coming in the evenings or early mornings to train Narune.

  He bowed to them. “Sea and soil. Kisari said you have need of me?”

  Colibrí shook her head. “I think it’s finally time I returned to the Guardian now that we have something. I thought you might want to come.”

  “Oh?” He brightened right away and smoothed his sleeveless robes. “I would indeed! I hope she allows me to join you this time.”

  She couldn’t promise anything, so she didn’t, and instead turned to Kisari. “You can come too, if you’d like. The forests are more dangerous than ever, but we shouldn’t have to go far, and Peacemaker fears the Guardian.”

  Kisari hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to Narune.

  “Everything hurts, but I’ll manage,” he said to his friend. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Kisari nodded, and with that the four of them set off, Sanemoro and Kisari between her and her son. They entered the forest and climbed up a sloping root-road to the central layer. The Flows of Creation had grown restless over the days and were deep even now; she sensed their power. It felt like a cool wetness trickling down her flesh and through her hair. It was odd, because the air was as hot and sticky as ever, and the forest’s tangle swallowed the breezes.

  Birds called here and there, but as usual the forest’s loudest songs belonged to the coquí, who chorused their names without end. Colibrí took the lead and made her way carefully across the root-roads. She feared the same predators she always did, but now she worried about halja too; the fear of seeing one around the curve of a tree-lord, or through the thickets obscuring a root-road reminded her of her time at the Primordial Wound.

  Colibrí didn’t know where she was going. She just walked, like when she and Narune hunted Stillness and hoped the forest would guide. The Guardian had promised Colibrí she wouldn’t need help finding her again, so she trusted in that. The others followed without question.

  They didn’t have to prowl far before she suddenly found herself in the same strange whirlpool of roots. This time the others were there with her. They looked around in shock and confusion; Narune drew the hilt of his Blade into his hand.

  She waved them down with her free hand, the other holding her spear upright. “Calm. This is the Guardian’s den. She should be waiting at the bottom of the roots.” Colibrí pointed with her spear.

  The three of them glanced at her in surprise, then sprinted over to the edge of the root-road and glanced down the center of the whirlpool. She joined them, and, sure enough, the Guardian waited for them at the bottom. This time she rested in a coil, her head on top, wings tucked. Her endless length curled around a few tree-lords before vanishing into the forest.

  The Guardian’s beauty struck Colibrí just as strongly as it had before; the scales of her serpentine body, which looked like a bush viper, were prickly and colored pink, gold, and red. There was a jagged, obsidian-like horn protruding from the Guardian’s forehead, and the feathery wings sprouting from just below her head were the same color.

  A giant golden eye stared up at them, the eyelid half-closed.

  “My, my, so many guests,” the Guardian said, and her voice echoed from all around. “Come then, but keep your disrespectful gawking at a minimum.” A yawn rippled through the air. “I am no spectacle.”

  They all hurried down to the detritus-strewn floor at the center where Narune, Kisari, and Sanemoro fell to their knees and bowed. Colibrí grinned behind them and joined a bit more slowly, though she bo
wed just as deeply, her forehead touching the dead leaves.

  “Sea and soil, great Guardian,” Colibrí said.

  A chuckle echoed. “Indeed. Welcome back, Halfborn. I see that you have brought the others, and a sage too.”

  “Yes,” Colibrí said. “We have brought news I hope is worthy of your time.”

  She told the great Guardian everything they had learned from their battles against the halja and Peacemaker’s trap, and of her meeting with the foreigners. Colibrí then told her of their plan to isolate and follow the Unseen Flow to learn whether Peacemaker was indeed building along its banks; if their tests proved true, then they could sweep across his hidden gardens of corruption, undoing his work all at once—and maybe even corner Peacemaker himself.

  “Hmm,” the Guardian said when Colibrí finished, her wings unfurling for a moment.

  They rose from their knees as the Guardian’s gaze became distant. Kisari and Narune gawked openly, their eyes bulging like fish, and Sanemoro grinned and threw disbelieving glances at Colibrí every few heartbeats, as if this were all somehow a dream or trick.

  “This is a clever scheme,” the Guardian eventually said as her amber eye focused down on them once more. “I find no fault with it. In fact, I feel like a fool for not deducing that this was how Peacemaker had managed his feats, especially with his lack of control over Flow. Raw power can at times replace finesse, I suppose.”

  Colibrí bowed again. “There’s no need to feel that way. We’re allies, and allies lean on each other.” And, thinking of that, she hesitated, wondering how to word her request, even though she had gone over it a hundred times.

  But the Guardian seemed to guess at her thoughts, and her wings spread wide, laughter echoing from all around them. “Yes, warrior. I will join the Islandborn for this.” The Guardian’s head lowered and she let out a slow hiss. “But I can only offer my encouragement and wisdom, as well as use of my own attunement to the Unseen Flow. My fangs must remain ready for the great predator that yet lies in wait—the same halja that slew me before.”