The Stone Messiahs : Book One - A Child Of Two Worlds

By Kit Gleave

For millennia the Terracan have merged with the sky stones, travelling their mysterious paths, searching for the Dreaming Stone and the path back to those who sent them, the alien Cad a Hoi. Then hope comes with the birth of the twin Messiahs. Soon the Terracan's guiding Prophecy will be borne out and the Dreaming Stone's whereabouts known. But, King Vicehorn, believing his empire threatened, pursues the Terracan mercilessly. He attacks their northern settlement and the Messiahs, Dillapan and Tontith, accompanied by the beautiful, enigmatic Coonishinook and her fire brother, Teeka, flee into the unknown and an adventure in which they encounter strange lands, fantastic cities and fabulous creatures. Their lives, loves and loyalties will be torn and tested before the ancient Prophecy leads them to an unbearable truth, the solution of which lies 60,000 years in the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781447555605

Book preview

two.

Prologue

Da had been nine when she finally found the cave. An intelligent and brave child, she had faced the darkness with nothing more than the light of a tallow taper and an overwhelming curiosity; a curiosity rare in a time of such fear and superstition.

It was the oddest cave she had explored and she had explored a great many. The walls, of mottled pink marble, were arched and corrugated. They were polished to a wet shine and resembled the open maw of a huge wolf or bear. Any who entered here, she thought, would need their courage tied tight about them. The taper burned low and guttered to an ember. Twice before she had puffed and kissed it back to life, but now the tiny spark died and an impenetrable darkness fell about her. But she did not panic. The cave had called to her from her earliest memory. She knew not to fear it. She would sleep and perhaps the Lady would come. Da lay down and as she drowsed she noticed how soft and warm the walls felt.

She awoke slowly and for a few minutes lay floating in the pleasant hinterland between the two worlds. Although the dream was melting fast, within its tattered fabric she caught sight of the Lady. Liat she had called her, her people’s name for cave. She was pointing and as her image began to fade Da saw a faint vision of hills shimmering in sunlight and Liat’s voice echoing in her ears, sweet but earnest. Find the bright shining hills, find the Dreaming Stone, and I will bring you home.

She raised herself on one elbow, shading her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. There was no sign of the cave, but that didn’t bother her any more than it was clearly the wrong time of year. There was a small pond a little way to her right. It looked cool and clear and a sudden thirst drew her to it. Kneeling at the water’s side, Da bent forward to drink. An eighteen-year-old woman looked back from the water’s quiet, dark surface. Startled, she drew back but the terror she might otherwise have felt was absent. She slowly leaned forward again, her eyes never leaving the strange image. The reciprocating movement of the reflection confirmed her assumption: this face with its inquisitive stare was, without doubt, her own. She was very much older and, though a mystery, it seemed right; she felt older. Liat’s face flashed before her and for a fleeting moment she was once more in the cave. Mysteries will lie all about you, Da. Do not fear them but embrace them and always remember you are loved.

Rested, Da stood up and looked about, taking stock. She would need to explore. Off to her left the ground rose up, blocking the view to any further horizon. She climbed to the edge of the bluff and looked down, oddly certain of what she would find. A quarter of an hour later she stood at the base of the stone, its dark brown surface flecked with sparkling quartz. For a long moment she just stared at it admiringly. It was beautiful but something was different. All the sky stones she had ever seen had had smooth surfaces as though they were covered in ice, or polished by the sea, but this one was rough and weather hewn. Suddenly, she spun round, her eyes searching the landscape, she did know this place but it had changed. This was the stone known as Ny. But it was old, very old. Da stooped and took up a handful of earth. She examined it and then let it drain from between her fingers. A deep sadness filled her and bowing her head she let out a deep sigh. She had thought to look for her tribe but now she knew it would serve no purpose for time had laid them at her feet, as nothing more than forgotten dust. But it did not matter. She would build her own tribe and together they would find the Dreaming Stone and the shining hills. It would all start here at the foot of Ny. She turned back to the old stone and admired it for a few moments more. Then, with a knowing smile, she touched it.

Chapter 1

Fires Of The Terracan

The giant eagle’s scream pierced the evening sky as the electric arc snapped from the stone’s surface and crackled about his beak. The wide fans of the old hunter’s wings crashed and flurried as he tumbled and twisted up and away from the stone’s lightning rebuke. Hunger had made him rash. He had known the stone’s song would bring them, the little fox or the early hare but he also knew it would protect those it beguiled.

The vixen did not hear the eagle’s cry or the crackle that had saved her little life. For her there was only the warm resonance of the stone’s sonorous tones and the sweet captivity of a force immeasurably beyond her tiny ken. All she knew was that for the first time in her short, hungry life she wanted for nothing.

The stone’s reverberation began to rise in pitch, its northern face shimmering with a faint light. Then, suddenly, it was as if the entire megalith had become a transparent column, containing a writhing mass of liquid granite. Like raindrops on a still pool, circles splashed and rippled outwards, crossing and re-crossing. The seething rock appeared to be drawn in on itself, forming sinuous ridges and depressions that gathered and twisted into the contours of two human beings. Strangely flattened at first, contracted like a base relief, they began to expand, sliding backwards as if extruded from the liquid granite within. Their heads were bowed and each clutched a hand to their chest while the other remained outstretched. For the briefest moment, granite statues of two young men, perfect in every detail, stood before Ny, the Sleeping Stone, the fingertips of their right hands still touching its surface. There were no visible steps of transition, as their hands fell away from the stone the statues became flesh and blood.

The boys stood for some moments stretching themselves as if they had awakened from a deep sleep. A small snow fox did the same and wandered off unsteadily. They smiled to themselves, knowing the stones often caught small creatures in their song. They each held a small, leaf-wrapped package, which they placed with great care on the ground at their feet. Then, turning to face one another, they raised their hands high and locking their fingers, pressed their foreheads together. With eyes and mouths tightly shut they began the sharing. A cascade of visions poured between them as the earth gave up her secrets.

After a few minutes they dropped their arms and looked about. Their eyes took in the ambient colouring of the terrain and slowly a green-grey hue swirled over their naked bodies. These were the northern lands, Vicehorn’s lands, and they would let their overskins camouflage them until it became too cold to maintain.

Dillapan and Tontith, twins, Messiahs of the Prophecy, had taken their first breath of life simultaneously, in the same birthing cave, watched over by the seer, Moshon Da. Her sanction of the birth had not been unequivocal, but the people of the stones had waited too long and regardless of her hesitation the Terracan had looked to the two babes for salvation. Now eighteen years old the young men wondered about their fate and the old one’s indecision.

Night was approaching fast and they still had to find the settlement of Ny an Noc. They had been told they would find the bivouac fires to the west, but how far they couldn’t be sure. They picked up the two small packages and set off towards the last remnant of the sunset. They were well enough matched to have been true twins, the same height and olive complexion, the same wiry frame. Dillapan, was perhaps a little stockier, his face broader, squarer, like all of the southern fires. But Tontith’s mother had been from the east, from the Chon-Coieta Clan, and this showed in his thin face and slanted eyes. They had no facial hair and, having travelled the stones, were completely bald.

They covered the ground at a steady trot. It grew dark and very much colder, so cold that their camouflage began to fail as their overskins put more energy into keeping them warm. A pale turquoise glow flickered about them, merging and separating with the distance between them.

After a quarter of an hour they stopped and looked around. There was a small stand of wind blown trees to their left. Small and stunted they would still provide cover in these dangerous times. Also, they knew Ny an Noc to be in woodland such as this, so they sat and waited. If they were near enough the whispers would find them, if not they would hide and look again in the morning. It began to snow. The two boys sat back to back and joined their overskins into a bubble about them. Having only seen snow on rare occasions they watched entranced as it slowly changed the landscape and settled on the bubble, sliding down its all but invisible sides to form a raised circular lip about them.

They sat in silence for some minutes, trying to make sense of the visions that had accompanied their weightless drift through the Sonato path. Tontith passed his hand over a small area of the bubble before him, causing it to flatten and become a mirror. Dillapan did likewise and gave his twin’s reflection an enquiring look.

‘Was it Fol Enor?’ Tontith asked.

Dillapan shook his head. ‘No, that old bully Janarka once marched me a day and half to see it from about five miles off. It was a vast place covering the sides of two hills. What we saw stood alone, and though it was definitely Cotnish...’ he hesitated, the vision already fading into the low regions of his mind, ‘it was odd, so rectangular and precise. It even looked as if it had been made with small, exactly identical, red stones. Ever hear of the Cotnish doing that?’ He put his head back so that it touched Tontith’s.

His twin closed his eyes and tried to gather what he could of his brother’s fading vision. ‘No, I haven’t. And what were those white squares? They seemed very regular too.’

Dillapan sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps holes for light, the Cotnish do that. It’ll be in the high north they glistened like they were covered in ice.’ He shrugged. ‘Probably doesn’t matter, but when we were sharing back there it did rather sing out.’ He pouted his bottom lip. ‘Visions! Let them wander off for they’ll wander home when you need them.’

‘If you let them.’ Tontith always thought Dillapan didn’t take enough interest in their visions. ‘Ah, look, is that our whisper?’ he flicked a finger towards the trees. They stood up and squinted into the darkness. ‘See!’ Dillapan sighted along Tontith’s arm and saw a luminous speck flitting between the trees. He rubbed his biceps and producing another whisper held it up, the first, recognising its quarry, at once brightened and shot forward, stopping just a hand’s breadth from the twins’ overskin. Tontith pressed the two together and now, larger and brighter, the whisper moved off back toward the woods, lighting their way.

After half an hour of the boys cursing at the snares of the undergrowth their glowing guide stopped short and began to oscillate. The boys stood stock still, tilting their heads, listening. Somewhere before them, almost certainly, lay the camouflaged overskin of Ny an Noc. They started forward again this time with more than a little caution, knowing that what they could see and what was there would be two different things. Suddenly, the air about them became warm, the trees thinned and through them they saw the fires of Ny an Noc.

The whisper shot upwards and struck the overskin high above their head, sounding a single sonorous tone that announced their arrival. There was an immediate bustle among the bivouac’s inhabitants and a moment later a basso’s drone filled the air and was joined by tenors and high sopranos all weaving into a rhythmic whole.

Tontith stopped to listen, Dillapan glancing at him with a grin. He knew of Tontith’s love of the circle of chants and placed a hand on his shoulder, ‘The chant of the traveller to welcome honoured guests.’ Tontith gave a small grimace. Easily embarrassed he could suffer agonies at these elaborate meetings, but still the music was wonderful.

Silently at first, the people of Ny an Noc came forward and greeted them with hot mint tea, cobnuts and dried fruit. They drank the tea gratefully and nodded thanks to the faces that bobbed and craned to get a better view of the Messiahs. Then Dillapan, raising a hand, called, ‘We thank you for our fine welcome.’ At once there was a welter of clapping and they were led forward, into the heart of Ny an Noc. Hands touched and tugged at them and jugglers and acrobats vied for their attention. Young girls nudged one another, whispering boasts and dares from behind raised hands. Some even made finger patterns and provocatively covered their nakedness with kaleidoscopic overskins. But only one, an older girl, was bold enough to change her overskin to the mauve of evening with a shimmering pattern of stars, then lift woven fingers to her face and stare through the lattice blowing kisses at Tontith.

‘Don’t redden, it’ll show.’ Dillapan spoke from the corner of his mouth and waited for his twin to flush crimson.

But Tontith was slowly becoming less embarrassed by such overtures, though he still felt the side of his neck beginning to warm and was happy when an older woman shooed the girls away with quiet chastisements. He gave Dillapan a look that omened a swift revenge.

Ny an Noc, lying beneath a protective dome, was a roughly circular clearing, perhaps 150 feet across. The boys looked about but Terracan bivouacs were all much the same. Maybe this had once been a Cotnish place, the trees removed for some purpose, or, what was more likely, a natural glade, its dusty, earthen floor trodden flat over many seasons. Twenty or more small fires were dotted about. Some untended others with groups of four or five sitting about them, talking and playing games. There were old men kneeling in a circle their backs to each other, sleeping with their mouths agape as they shared past dreams. But also they could see at least two of the cooton tic k’hy, lost children, wandering as if dazed. Whether they still knew of the world none could say for these were Travellers who had gone astray. For them the Sonato had not provided. Perhaps they had delved in paths beyond their reach or had tried to build paths in their minds alone, none could say. Fed and cleaned they were otherwise left alone to wander for the stones would not take them and the Cotnish did not want them. Dillapan drew his twin’s attention away, he knew of Tontith’s compassion and he knew it would be rebuffed.

They stopped for a few minutes with the welcoming party to show their appreciation of the choir. A small boy was just beginning a solo. He stood beside an old woman, a shimmering turquoise cone hovering before his lips, amplifying the sweet but tiny voice. The elderly woman listened intently to every note, drawing them in the air with a long, gnarled finger. When the boy had finished the twins began to applaud enthusiastically and soon all the fires stood clapping. The small lad perhaps seven years of age, blushed scarlet and hugged the old lady in his embarrassment. She stroked his head and with proud smiles took his applause.

Rested and replete the young men sat beside a small fire with Uncle Vervandish. Old and frail now, he had once been a renowned traveller and teacher. The boys were in awe of both him and his wife Jol, Dillapan’s great aunt. When dreaming in unison the old couple was still considered to be the greatest burrowers and seers of their generation. Jol was away from the fire, gathering herbs before the snow became too deep, but Vervandish assured them that she would join them shortly. They made polite conversation while they waited, Vervandish being eager to hear the news and gossip of the different clans. There would be time for business later, for sadly business there was and of a serious nature, but for the moment they ignored the leaf wrapped packages that lay beside them.

Jol returned, hugging a small bundle of roots and young shoots to her old flattened breasts. She dropped them in a heap and greeted the boys, pinching their cheeks and stroking their faces. Her hands were thin and gnarled, amber dark as was the rest of her weather-tanned skin. And although sixty-eight winters had put an occasional wince in her joints, she still held her slender neck erect and her back straight. The beauty of her youth had, with the mixture of time and wisdom, matured into a serene austerity. But her features were now bright and good humoured as she looked at her two nephews, slapping their shoulders and giving them a little shake, as if checking that they were all in one piece. She took a deep breath and asked the ancient question, ‘Is there any news?’

The boys saw faces at the other fires turn towards them. They smiled but their smiles held no mirth. ‘None that’s good to hear, but we live in hope.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Ah, well.’ She had not seen them for over a year and cupping their faces in her hands she kissed each on the forehead, whispering as she had from their childhood, ‘Fear not. Just remember who you are, you may doubt, I do not.’ Then, holding them at arm’s length she smiled broadly and barked her deep and distinctive laugh.

As Jol was present, the boys opened the packages and handed over six thin plates of mica. The old woman leaned forward and blew on the ashes of the fire until the small heap of sticks and twigs glowed brightly and a tongue of flame licked the darkness. She held each of the plates to the light in turn. She pursed her lips and after a few moments nodded her head.

‘Yes, I can see, these do indeed hold an image.’ She offered them to her husband, but he shook his head gesturing to his eyes. ‘But we’ll have to wait for dawn to see if the sun can stimulate some movement in them. I’ll get Coonishinook to set them up so they catch the first light of day. I’m sure that’s a job you might like to help her with, Dillapan.’ She grinned as the boy shuffled uneasily. From childhood, Coonishinook had frequently stayed with Dillapan’s family at the fires of Mi Eca. But at the age of twelve the stones had refused the half-breed girl and though they had passed messages through friends, the boys’ travels in the last eighteen months had kept them apart. ‘Fear not, Dillapan, she’ll be here soon. I know she can’t wait to see you.’

‘Does she really, Aunt?’ He hesitated not wanting to show his eagerness but then said, ‘It’s been so long and I thought…’

‘Don’t be silly, boy. Not a day passes that she doesn’t mention you in some context or other, you’ll see. She went off for a run with Marlic. You’ll like him.’ The old woman flashed a mischievous grin at her husband. He smiled back and for some minutes there was silence.

When Jol spoke again, her voice was more sombre. ‘I’m afraid of what we might see in these plates. If they haven’t captured an image we can use poor Meverill’s work will have been in vain. There’s no doubt that Vicehorn’s hand grows ever more restless. It’s even been said that he’s foolhardy enough to lead many of the raids himself, which may be his downfall. If we were lucky enough to capture his image Vervandish and I could burrow his dreams and learn his intentions.’ She folded the crystalline plates in their leaves and sat holding them for a moment, saying nothing. Then she raised her hand and beckoned to a young boy. ‘Teeka, my whisper, find Coonishinook and send her to me.’ She twitched her nose at the boy and he tore off.

Jol lowered her head but kept her eyes on them. ‘Moshon Da has been visiting us a great deal of late.’ They looked at her, eyes wide with enquiry. She gave a faint nod. ‘Coonishinook meets her in the woods or sometimes she’ll come and stay. The two are as thick as bindweed. The other week she gave Coonishinook a rather odd gift.’ She struggled for words. ‘It’s an arrowhead but not like any I’ve seen before. It’s too fine to be Cotnish although the Makers would probably kill for such an item. Not only that, it’s not stone. I’m not sure what it’s made of; one of the heavier elementals perhaps, I can’t say. Strangely, I found it quite beautiful.’

The young boy returned and pointed. ‘I found her, Grandma.’ Jol turned and beckoned with her hand. A young girl stood at the edge of the clearing. She was tall, certainly as tall as Dillapan, and her hair was short, almost cropped. Beside her, sitting back on its hindquarters was a huge wolf, its pale blue eyes glinting in the dark.

‘That’s Marlic with her. Don’t let him disturb you.’ She was still beckoning. ‘Tontith, you love the mysteries, here’s one to brighten your overskin.’ She chuckled at their confusion.

As the young girl moved so the beast moved with her in a single flowing motion, almost as if he were her shadow. Dillapan thought her silhouette odd, but as she stepped into the light of the fire he saw, to his surprise, that she was wearing an animal skin and not only this but she had changed beyond anything he could have imagined. Her lips had become full and wide, and her almond eyes, dark as ebony, held a gaze of quiet intelligence. Her nose was now slender and on her right cheek he noticed she had three, small scars. Neither of the young men could help themselves; they stared at her in fascination. Coonishinook was no longer a child. Her mixed blood and the bloom of early womanhood had turned her prettiness into breathtaking beauty.

Jol’s laughter turned heads from those at the other fires. ‘Come, come, boys, don’t gape like a pair of lope sloths you’ll embarrass the poor girl. Move over, Tontith, let her sit with Dillapan.’

Dillapan coloured slightly and glanced at his friend.

Tontith laughed. ‘Finding it warm, brother, the fire a little hot?’

Dillapan’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m quite all right, thank you, Tontith. We apologize, Coonishinook, how have you been keeping? You look well.’ He felt the awkwardness in his voice and cleared his throat.

The girl knelt beside him, the wolf settling on her other side. She laid a small bundle of twigs by the fire to dry them then pushed her fingers deep into the creature’s grey-brown fur. ‘I don’t mind. It’s good to see you, Dillapan, and you too, Tontith.’ She smiled quickly at them then looked into the glowing embers of the fire.

Jol moved the mica pieces towards the wolf. It sniffed at them and looked at the old woman. The pale eyes seemed to hold something greater than animal cunning. Jol nodded. ‘There’s an image, but of what use I can’t say. Whatever, I doubt it will bode well. When we rely on death to gain an edge I fear we may have already lost.’

The huge beast made a low noise in its throat.

‘I know, I get despondent and I shouldn’t.’ She reached over and pulled at Marlic’s ear.

Tontith smiled foolishly and glanced at Vervandish then at Jol, his grin fading to one of a nervous twitch. He said, ‘You’re talking to the wolf, Aunt, is everything?’

‘No, my darling, I talk to Marlic and he’s a great deal more than just a wolf.’ She took a deep breath and sighed. ‘It’s part of why you’re here, boys, and a sad story, one our fires have kept close to them.’ She hadn’t travelled for some months and there was a fine haze of white hair on her rounded pate. She passed a hand through it thoughtfully ‘Your parents know, of course, and being the Messiahs and old enough to be lighting your own fires perhaps it’s best we tell it now.’ She looked at Coonishinook who nodded agreement.

‘As you know, many years ago when the troubles first started, the Cotnish fell on us in great numbers. Suddenly, everywhere we were under attack. We hadn’t learned to camouflage ourselves so many died, and they were true deaths. It was the story season you see and in those days we wandered much further from the stones than we dare do now, so the survivors were unable to bring the dead back to the stones in time to be merged.’ She stopped and put a hand to her mouth as if reliving the events, ‘Such an awful time. It was in one of the raids that Coonishinook’s mother was taken. We thought her dead but many months later, to our great joy, we found her. She had just wandered in the stones, finally ending up with the Sloomia people of the northern sun. Her wits were shattered and she wouldn’t speak. The Cotnish had had their brutish way and she was pregnant. The lovely Milliarett never uttered another word. You know the rest. She gave us this wonderful gift.’ She stroked Coonishinook’s arm. ‘Then sadness upon sadness, she drowned herself. It’s what happened next that’s been kept secret these many years. But as I say Marlic and our Mother now believe that the Messiahs should know the truth.’ She stopped and gave the animal a soft almost wistful look. ‘Do you remember the tale of Marlic and Tattianoo from story circle?’

The boys frowned and Jol was about to chide them when their eyes widened. They stared at the wolf then at Coonishinook who just nodded.

‘Spirit turning, Aunt?’ The boys spoke in unison.

‘Marlic is our son, Cooip, Milliarett’s husband. At first he roamed the empty lands over the ocean, but three years ago, when the stones first refused Coonishinook, he returned as you see him now. He can still travel, but to return to human form?’ She shrugged. ‘Well, that’s another matter and as a wolf his spirit might not be taken into the paths,’ she looked at the wolf for several seconds then added, ‘like his dear wife.’

‘And he’s returned to protect Coonishinook?’ Dillapan asked

‘Exactly, if she couldn’t escape danger through the stones she would have to travel overland and as a wolf he has speed, claws and teeth. Most important of all he has a killer’s instinct.’

Jol let her words settle for a moment then put her arm around the young girl and rubbed her back affectionately. ‘This darling young one has her mother’s courage. We know nothing of her blood father, of course, but we’ve always taught her to express herself as she feels her nature takes her. Things have changed since we last met. Moshon Da has told us to keep our business to ourselves as there are too many unhelpful ears prying into Terracan affairs. When the stones first refused Coonishinook, far from being worried, Moshon Da seemed almost pleased. And of course good did come of it. Our son was returned to us and our granddaughter was to be guarded day and night. Also, she insisted that Coonishinook be given those little scars, in the fashion of the Cotnish highborn. The idea is to give her the best chance if she should ever be captured, or even if she should choose their ways.’ She paused and smiled ruefully. ‘This young lady may have many choices to make one day.’ For a moment Jol’s face lost all expression and she looked at Vervandish. The old seer made a slight movement with his hand but said nothing. Jol exhaled noisily and drew herself up. Her face brightened but it seemed to take some effort. ‘But no doubt she will make them well.’

Tontith saw his friend’s discomfort and knew what must be passing through his mind. The silence lengthened so he moved the conversation on. ‘Did you make the covering you’re wearing?’

Coonishinook pulled at the hem of the simple tunic. ‘I didn’t kill the poor animal. I found it dead. I used this to take the skin.’ She took a flint from one of her pouches. ‘It was very hard work and it smelt dreadful for weeks. But I get cold. My overskin isn’t as strong as it should be so I persevered.’ She looked slightly embarrassed.

Dillapan had been sitting staring at her. He could not get over just how beautiful she was. He knew he must say something but he felt awkward and tongue-tied. ‘Your hair,’ he took a breath, ‘it’s so short…I mean I thought you may have learnt to travel?’ He realised it was a foolish notion, but he didn’t care. He hated that difference between them.

Coonishinook shook her head. ‘I have these.’ She emptied several shards of black obsidian into her hand, their translucent edges looking viciously sharp. She took one, cut a lock from the side of her temple and fluttered her fingers over the fire. The hair crackled and flared. ‘I also have this.’ From another pouch she produced a finely worked, obsidian blade. ‘It was with my mother when they found her. Grandma Jol gave it to me this year on my birthday.’ She paused as she recognized the enthusiasm in her voice, what must they think of her Cotnish traits. Biting her upper lip she glanced at Jol for support.

‘It’s all right, child.’ She stroked the girl’s arm but was looking at the boys. ‘I tell her what I’ve always told the pair of you, and it holds the same implication within the Prophecy. Remember who you are.’

Dillapan looked closely at the knife for some seconds but did not touch it. Suddenly, there were too many thoughts running through his mind and he could not make sense of any of them. All he could see was the glint along the blade’s glassy black edge and it said only one thing, Cotnish, Maker.

The small group sat around the fire in silence for some minutes. Jol knew her revelation would have been a shock to the boys and she let them think for a while. After several minutes Tontith asked. ‘Does Marlic understand us, Aunt?’

The old woman nodded. ‘Yes, oh yes. Within that beautiful body is a sad heart and a clever mind.’ She reached out to curl a finger in the animal’s fur. ‘Forgive the boast of a proud mother, Marlic, but it’s only the truth.’ The wolf just passed its tongue over its upper jaw and lay out flat beside Coonishinook. ‘Marlic is an elder of our clan. His wishes and needs come before yours, remember that. But then again, you must never forget,’ she paused and flashed her eyes at them; ‘he is also a wolf!’

Coonishinook took up the mica plates, holding them carefully in their vine leaf wrappings. ‘I’ll see to these, Grandma.’ Smiling at the boys she began to take her leave.

‘Dillapan, why don’t you help your cousin?’ The old lady used the word cousin to save her nephew’s obvious embarrassment.

‘Of course,’ Dillapan got to his feet and followed Coonishinook into the darkness, the strange wolf gliding in their wake.

Vervandish had sat quietly all this while. He was very old, but as frail as he was, his eyes still had the glint of his renowned wisdom. He watched Tontith fidget for a moment under his gaze. ‘So, have you enjoyed your travelling these last months?’

‘Yes, Uncle, I have, I love being in the paths and meeting people, but the fires are so anxious and they look to us for hope. It can be awkward.’

The old man nodded. ‘Yes, I can understand that. There’s so much fear these days. You mustn’t blame people looking to you for some little help, some succour. Do the mysteries still keep you awake at night? I suppose you still want me to teach you.’

Tontith was quick to answer. ‘Yes, Uncle, I do. I always have.’ He glanced at Jol then back to Vervandish. ‘Things may not be as we hope. The Prophecy says the sky will darken over the stone of Ny upon our twentieth birthdays yet Moshon Da says it will not happen. I try to keep arrogance from my heart, as does Dillapan, but so many look to us as if the Prophecy were to be fulfilled in us for certain. But what if we’re found lacking?’ He held his hands open before him. ‘That’s why I seek a master. It’s only right that we should know more of the mysteries.’

Vervandish nodded sombrely. ‘There’s a little more to the mysteries than learning a few hundred couplets of the Prophecy. I’ve spent my life trying to match my visions to the rhymes, or to see their like in the world as my life unfolds. And I’ve seen much, Tontith, believe me.’ He pulled at his ear and flexed his jaw, showing his teeth. He seemed reluctant to speak but then shrugged. ‘I’ll give you an instance:

"The Prophecy will come to the listening house,

To call the king and the kitchen mouse."

I’ve seen this king and the mouse for that matter. Then there’s:

"The vagabond lord must show his worth,

For one of his line must change the earth."

I first saw the vagabond lord in some of my earliest dreams. I’ve followed his wanderings and in later life I even sat and spoke with him. He seemed to have as much difficulty communicating as I did. I told him of our plight and even those parts of the Prophecy I thought pertained to his life. He insisted that I repeat them so he could record them in a book. I never saw it clearly; there were just too few connections. Book seemed to be a flat object he scratched at with a stick. I’ve seen Cotnish make fire this way but that wasn’t what he was doing. I had the feeling it was a memory aid.’ He turned a hand in the air. ‘But that’s pure conjecture. The point I’m making, Tontith, is that the Prophecy only gives us direction. Until you and your brother point the way, our dreams will remain unburrowed and unread by the Cad a Hoi. The way to the Dreaming Stone will be long and bitter. You’ll tread a cold earth and speak many new tongues before the hopes of our people are fulfilled. The danger of failure is greater than you can imagine, but you’ll be fine. Just remember who you are and that you’re loved.’

The old man’s face softened and he reached out and shook Tontith’s shoulder. ‘Have faith in yourself, boy. The clans do. I do. Perhaps I haven’t seen you and Dillapan standing before a great stone, the sky darkening above your heads, but if it makes you any easier I know that you will have a master. In fact, Tontith, you will have many, this I’ve seen.’ He suddenly got to his feet with an agility Tontith hadn’t expected, his face once more inscrutable. ‘Now, I’ve said more than I intended. I shall think in numbers for a while then retire. Dream well, Tontith,’ he looked at his wife but his passive expression did not alter. Jol was staring back and something passed between them, but whatever it was it was gone in an instant and Tontith did not feel inclined to enquire.

Coonishinook and Dillapan walked to the edge of the settlement, just beyond the group overskin. The girl gave a brief shiver, the night was cold and her overskin was so slight as to be almost invisible. Dillapan stood closer to her and widened his own. She smiled and nodded approval. She rubbed her own biceps and formed a tiny flutter of light. ‘It grows no better or worse, but you’ll make whispers for me, won’t you?’ He nodded but said nothing.

Coonishinook cast about with her eyes then she took the mica plates and laid them out separately. She pointed at a low angle. Dillapan could see, through a break in the undergrowth, a small patch of starry sky. ‘They’ll catch the first light here.’

The seer Meverill had prepared the plates and hidden them about his bivouac so that if they were attacked, others might know more of their enemy. Now Dillapan looked down at them, wondering if they were also a symbol of what might, one day, stand between him and the girl he loved. He felt as if his tongue was frozen to his teeth. He so wanted to chat and joke and amuse Coonishinook as he had in childhood, but they were no longer children. Her mixed blood had given her a strange and haunting beauty. Her face held a passive stillness while the eyes burned with a piercing sense of enquiry that was foreign to him, and it was their dark beauty that now helped him to silence. Did she know how he felt? She had only been a child. Had she forgotten his protestations to love and protect her? Maybe she saw it all as a childish fancy and him as a stranger. Here was the crux of the matter: he was not a stranger, but was she? Might she leave him, leave them all, for what was, after all, half her blood, the Makers, the enemy? The question would not form itself and he felt his lips move nervously.

But Coonishinook knew his thoughts at that second better than he did, for they were questions with which she lived. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and put two fingers to his lips. She stared at him for a long moment then kissed him and pressed her forehead to his. ‘It’s so good to see you again, Dillapan.’ He didn’t reply, but just held her close and slowly his doubts and fears faded away.

They sat together and he formed a mirrored bubble about them. Marlic’s nose, muzzle and eyes appeared within it and Coonishinook gave him a flick under the chin. ‘Watch the bubble not us. I became a woman the day the stones refused me, remember?’

Marlic pushed his face close to Dillapan’s and licked his cheek with a rough tongue.

‘That means you’re family now, so watch out!’ Coonishinook laughed.

An hour later they sat back-to-back, talking and laughing as if nothing had changed. Dillapan had cleared the bubble and was keeping a weather eye on Marlic, wondering if they would always be chaperoned in this fashion. Not that he did a very good job of it. ‘Jol said something about a strange arrowhead that Moshon Da gave you?’

Coonishinook reached inside her tunic and pulled up a thong to which was attached yet another leather pouch. Inside was what appeared to be a long thin leaf, dark in hue perhaps blue-grey, in the dark it was hard to tell. She handed it to him over her shoulder. ‘Be careful, it’s very sharp. Moshon Da said that Liat had given it to her, that it was of great value and I must keep