Lost Cause
EVERYONE WAS STARTING to trickle back into the little camp near the woodland stream, their faces disconsolate. The tunnel promised by Wabun hadn't turned up anywhere, and every time another little search party returned with nothing but negative news, their spirits sank a bit more. Even Marten hadn't been able to sniff one out, and he sighed longest and loudest of all, rocking back and forth atop a fallen tree. And even Peepaukawiss looked gloomy, ruffling one hand through his feathers and pouting; the others tended to the new fire they'd built, as evening was beginning to come on and the air was growing chillier and damper. There was a bit of commotion when Thomas, Winter Born, Pakwa, one of the loons, and then a tardy Lieutenant Barrington arrived, but as soon as they shook their heads everyone settled back into gloominess, sitting on logs or resting against trees.
"I really thought we would find that tunnel, too," Winter Born sighed, sitting down on a log; Remy yanked on one of her braids and she yelled, then jumped down and chased him off toward the stream.
Thomas sighed as well and sat down nearer the fire, rubbing at one tired eye; Barrington kept to the edge of the camp, scowling as he stared at the fire. "I hate to say it but maybe that East Wind fellow was putting her on...speaking of...is Charmian back yet?" He lifted his head and glanced around.
Francois shook his head; he was loading his gun and checking it. "Not yet...perhaps she'll bring good news with her, oui?"
"Maybe," Thomas said, sounding a bit more hopeful now. He glanced at Augwak as the GeeBee trudged his way across the camp and toward the stream, scowling even harder than Barrington. "Lord knows we could use some," he added.
Augwak made his way down toward the stream's bank, glancing further along to make sure that the white-haired brat and the other brat weren't too nearby, before sitting down with a thud and glaring at the water. Slight talking started in the camp, but not much; not that he would have complained, as any sort of chatter made his head hurt by now. He let out a miserable sigh and rubbed his belly, hating how empty it felt, even after eating part of that Lynx; he didn't care much for Lynx. He allowed himself to fantasize a bit about picking off one of the voyageurs when no one was looking--surely nobody would miss just one?--and feasting on his heart and innards. He licked his teeth and slavered, eyes going glassy.
I bet I could handle that even in my pathetic state, he thought. They don't have any medicine at all! So it wouldn't be like fighting off a manitou or anything. Ohhh, I'm so hungry! A Wendigo should never be made to go so very long without sustenance! I wouldn't be in such a dreadful state if not for that gigantic lunkhead...
I would not be here whatsoever if not for her...
He blinked, then sucked on his teeth, remembering the faint taste of blood. It had come from a near stranger, that odd one who'd come with them from the east, but the little Thunderbird had declared that the mainlander had ordered him to give it...and he was fairly certain that if he hadn't been fed just then, he wouldn't be here right now. He rubbed his belly again, hating that he hadn't even been awake to enjoy it, but he was more perplexed than anything. It still made no sense that she'd fed him. He stared off into space for a good long while, brow furrowing, and tried to work his mind around it, but no ideas would come.
The pissy little thing takes my spirit stone, and keeps me under her thumb, but then she gives it back...she takes away my Wendigo powers, and kicks and beats me, but then lets me be...and now she promises to find my medicine? AND feeds me? He narrowed his eyes as he thought. What sort of thing did I do to deserve THIS treatment?
"Well," he said aloud, stare drifting skyward, "I did try to take her spirit...well...that's certainly not it. I tried to eat her once or twice...but no, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be thankful for that...I nearly squashed that long knife boy of hers...I don't think she cared for that either...I went after that Ocryx once...but that seemed to rather irk her too...graagggghhh!! WHY IS SHE DOING THIS TO ME?!"
He grabbed his ears and pulled on them, making an awful face and gouging his toenails into the soil. "What sort of stupid game IS this?" he snapped. "All these years I have wanted that fleshling DEAD for how many times she's humiliated me! And now she thinks to SAVE me? What sort of hideous awful fleshling trick--? Does she plan to have me in her debt FOREVER? That's it! That MUST be it!" He clenched his fists and bared his teeth at the air. "I WILL HARDLY BE IN YOUR DEBT FOREVER, LITTLE BRAT!! You luck out this time because I don't have my power! The very NEXT time you set foot on that Island, I will tear your heart out and FEAST on it! And use your arms as APPETIZERS!"
He waved his arms to make his point, then deflated, losing his enthusiasm and sinking into a pathetic muddle on the bank. The fire died from his eyes and he rubbed his aching head, grumbling. For some reason, the thought of cooking and eating the mainlander didn't seem to hold quite the appeal that it usually did.
As soon as he realized this, he blinked, and his eyes grew. Gnawing on his lip, he made his way to the water's edge and peered down at his reflection. His own face stared back, yellow eyes wide. He carefully looked himself over...he looked much the same as always, just tired, and weaker than usual...but was it just him, or did his face seem a little paler than before...?
He pulled at his lower eyelid, examining the dark rings under his eyes. Worry etched lines around his mouth as he turned his head left and right. His skin was still the same dull green as always...but he did seem a bit wan...and his eyes didn't shine as brightly yellow as they usually did...he chewed on his lip again, fingers fiddling anxiously, and moved away from the water a bit, unease settling over him like a blanket.
He glanced left and right, then scampered further along the bank and behind a fallen tree. He made sure no one could see him before he squatted down and held a hand up before his chest. He concentrated, and the murky angry red glow of his spirit stone at last began to appear. Augwak stared at it, brow furrowing, as it emerged.
It was the same color as before. Yet...it didn't seem quite as dark...and he knew it had been murkier, blacker, the last time he'd seen it...
He bared his teeth and yanked his hand back, shaking it at his chest in a panic; the image faded and vanished. A whimper escaped his throat and he craned his neck to look around himself again, praying that no one had seen that but him. He started chewing on his fingernails, teeth chattering.
If your spirit starts to get too light, it changes, and then you begin to lose your old Wendigo powers. You become just like him...
This can't be happening!! Why would this be happening to me? THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING...!!
"It's all that wretched manitou's fault!!" he whimpered aloud, shifting from foot to foot. "It's all him! All because of him! If I had my medicine, my spirit would not be DOING such hideous things! I have to get my medicine BACK! Before..."
He let the thought go unsaid; to say it aloud would have made him start screaming and tearing at his ears. Instead, he whined again, biting his fingers nearly hard enough to bleed, and commenced pacing back and forth along the streambank, willing his spirit to stay as dark as possible for as long as possible.
"I wish to know why all of you are taking your precious time," Megissogwun said in a very unpleasant voice, right before all of the color drained from Niskigwun's face.
The Michinimakinong stood in the ruins of Cutfoot's camp, staring up at the manitou who loomed over him, his eyes glittering blue and malevolent, arms crossed over his broad chest. Niskigwun's own eyes shifted to look at the feather tattoo upon his breast, then back up to his face. The manitou looked bored, almost, yet something in his eyes made him shiver a little.
"You...you are he," he said in a faint voice, unable to think of anything else to say.
The manitou didn't respond. Niskigwun slowly brought his spear forward, and flared his wings; Megissogwun at last noticed them, lifting his head a little to look at them. He arched an eyebrow, then his eyes narrowed a bit--and the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You are one of them," he said, sounding vaguely amused, and uncrossed his arms.
Niskigwun took a step back, fighting to regain his composure. "You are the manitou who disturbed the Sky Mother so! And kidnapped a mere girl! How dare you arrive and threaten us to hurry! When all YOU have done so far is hide yourself away like some sort of coward!"
Megissogwun's dull look returned and he recrossed his arms. "I see...you are a righteous type. No wonder you are in their company."
Niskigwun's nose wrinkled; he kept his spear raised as he started pacing to the side, seeking the best angle from which to attack. "Perhaps you are more powerful than any of us--or even all of us--but this hardly means we will take your threats sitting down! I hardly care for that halfling manitou--but as soon as you took the girl--and threatened the Island--then you picked a fight with us. Rest assured that before this is over, YOU will be the one again defeated--Kabeyun or no Kabeyun!"
"You talk too much," Megissogwun said blandly. "Is this why Geezhigo-Quae chose you as her war leader?"
Niskigwun blinked. "Huh--?" he managed to get out, before with a CRACK he found himself hurtling through the air, and he crashed in a heap a little distance away, a puff of ash rising around him. He coughed and spat, sitting upright; one look at his arms showed him how messy his appearance must now be, and with a grimace he shook the ash from his feathers and shot to his feet. He clenched his spear and bared his teeth at the newcomer, who merely stared at him in response.
"How do you know this--?" he demanded.
Megissogwun just stared. "I assume that a silly head of plumes like that must mean something," he said, sounding bored.
Niskigwun's scowl grew. "Go right ahead! You hardly hurt me! But if you have so much as TOUCHED that girl--"
"Rest easy," Megissogwun replied. "The child is unharmed...so far. Yet if you and your friends continue to drag your feet, she will not remain so. I had thought that her father was interested in saving her...but perhaps I was wrong."
Niskigwun's feathers flared. "HARDLY!" He stormed toward the big manitou, spear at the ready. "You make a terrible mistake showing yourself now. I doubt I can defeat you--but there are those among us who MIGHT! And once we meet on equal ground, you will regret ever crossing us!"
Megissogwun rolled his eyes skyward. "Tiny threats...from tiny people. I had rather expected friends of Geezhigo-Quae to have more mettle than this...it appears I was wrong about this, as well."
Niskigwun crouched and held the spear up and out at his side. "As if you know a damned thing about the Sky Mother!"
Megissogwun raised an eyebrow. "You doubt me? I know her much more than you think." He uncrossed his arms again and started stepping forward, Niskigwun blinking again in confusion. "Perhaps after I send you off, you may give her my greetings, as I am starting to find you very dull for conversation."
Niskigwun furrowed his brow, but started stepping back. "Big threats...from a big bully! Perhaps if you faced someone of your own strength for a change, one would take you seriously!"
Another roll of the eyes. "You bore me," Megissogwun said, right before his foot met Niskigwun's chin, snapping the Michinimakinong's head back and sending him hurling head over heels. He crashed into the ash again with a pained yell, but just as quickly pushed himself up, staggering a little and rubbing at his chin with a wince. He met Megissogwun's eyes and started fuming.
"Cowardly BULLY attacks!!" he barked. "Why do you not fight like the manitou you CLAIM you are!"
Megissogwun raised an eyebrow again. "You think you would stand a much better chance then? Very well." He folded his arms. "Do whatever you wish. And as soon as you bore me again, I will send you on your way, with my message to Geezhigo-Quae and your friends."
Niskigwun gawked at him in disbelief, before fury began to well up inside his breast, making his teeth grind together and his fingernails dig into his palms hard enough to sting. Megissogwun stared at him for a moment, then one of his feathers twitched; he started to turn around.
"I see I overestimated you yet again," he said, taking a step. "Perhaps those little ones who accompanied you here will be a tiny bit more of a challenge."
Charmian--! Niskigwun suddenly thought, and his eyes went wide, a gasp escaping him. Without thinking further, he launched himself through the air, wings spreading, and lifted the spear to plunge it at the big manitou's back, letting out a yell as he did so.
He didn't even get to reach him before he was hurtling head over heels. He slammed down on one leg, biting off a cry of pain when his knee twisted; he started getting up, but received another kick to the head instead, and collapsed. He managed to reach up and weakly rub at the bruise forming on his cheek, blinking at the shadow which fell over him. Megissogwun's amusement was gone, his eyes again glowing slightly.
"You are rather pathetic," he said, "considering what you are." And Niskigwun tumbled over when another kick met him, and collapsed on his stomach, his fingers digging into the ashes. He winced and let out a small groan, his head throbbing.
The sound of footfalls came through the ashes. "Not going to get up?" Megissogwun's voice asked.
Niskigwun ground his teeth, eyes shut tight. "When I...get my balance...you will find my spear...shoved 'where the sun don't shine,'" he muttered, muscles straining to push himself up.
Megissogwun snorted. "I will take that as your pathetic attempt at a threat." Niskigwun managed to start pushing himself up, only to let out a wheeze when the manitou's foot came down over his neck, shoving his head back to the ground. The Michinimakinong's eyes popped open and he blinked the ashes away, then let out a hiss and started struggling. Megissogwun's foot merely ground into his neck, making him gasp and choke for breath. He felt the big manitou lean down closer to him, his voice coming hazy to his ears as his head spun.
"Geezhigo-Quae has always been far too proud of all of you," he said as if in confidence, "considering what you must remind her of." Then before Niskigwun could ask what that meant--if he'd even been able to--he felt Megissogwun's weight shift slightly. "I wonder how I should send you back? I do wonder if they would recognize you without your feathers, or without anything else." He paused, then Niskigwun felt him grasp his right wing. "Like perhaps these? Though I have seen them get removed before...and yet they always come right back...perhaps no one has tried hard enough just yet?" And he moved his hand down to the base of Niskigwun's wing, where it was jointed to his back. "Like perhaps this?"
He dug his thumb into the joint and yanked the wing, tearing it out of its socket. Niskigwun's eyes goggled, then a bloodcurdling scream escaped his throat, fiery bolts of pain searing through his back, as if his arm were being torn from his body. He started writhing against the ground like a butterfly with its wings getting torn off, but couldn't push himself upright with Megissogwun's foot still upon his neck. He just barely felt the manitou grasp onto his other wing, his scream dying down into pained whimpers, and Megissogwun said, "I wonder what they will think of their war leader so stripped of his badge of honor--?" before tearing it out as well, and Niskigwun screamed again, clawing at the ground and gouging his toes and fingernails into the ashes. Tears started pouring from his eyes as Megissogwun rose and tossed the wings aside; they landed among the rubble with a small puff of dust, already stained gray. The weight left his neck, but by now he was in too much pain to bother trying to get up; instead he curled up slightly, one hand slipping behind his back to press against the empty hollows where his wings had been. They throbbed and burned, feeling as if hot spears had been jabbed into his shoulderblades, and he whined and rocked back and forth, shaking and weak.
Megissogwun stared down at him, nose wrinkling slightly. "Hard to believe that you are what I know you are," he said with mild disgust in his voice; "I would have expected much better." He reached down and grasped onto Niskigwun's necklaces, dragging him upright to hold him up before him; the Michinimakinong snuffled and wheezed, blinking tears and ashes from his eyes, barely able to focus on the manitou's face. Megissogwun just looked bored again.
"Pathetic," he grumbled. "I do not know why I expected otherwise." He tightened his grip on the necklaces, then swung Niskigwun through the air, slamming him into the ground. Niskigwun managed to get out a startled gasp before he was being swung a second time, and cracked against hard earth yet again; Megissogwun lifted him and flung him over so he slammed down onto his back, and he let out a third scream, fresh pain searing through his wounds. Before it was even fully out of his mouth, a kick to the ribs sent him flying into a nearby pile of rubble where he crashed noisily; he at last tried desperately to at least push himself up a little, dragging his spear toward himself. From the corner of his eye he could faintly see Megissogwun walking his way, still with that bored expression. His hand shook, but he did his best to steady it, trying hard to block out the searing throb in his back.
If he goes after them...they will not make it back alive...
The Island...Grandmother...Charmian...
His cold fingers gripped the shaft of the spear and he bit his lip hard enough to bleed, shutting his eyes and focusing on the sound of the big manitou's footsteps as he drew nearer. He heard him snort as he came close, felt the slight breeze of his motions, and tensed his arm.
"Pathetic," that bland voice said again. "I'm betting that little girl would put up a better fight than you."
Niskigwun gritted his teeth. When he felt the hand grasp hold of him by the neck, he let out a hoarse yell, eyes popping open and fixing on the manitou's--they went wide--before he spun the spear around and jammed it at his chest.
It deflected against the mass of shells and feathers and claws that the manitou wore. A split second later, Megissogwun held the spear in his own hand, Niskigwun dangling from the other, and the Michinimakinong had just enough time to blink in surprise and confusion before he realized what was about to happen.
"I will just leave you as the parting message," Megissogwun said, and rammed the spear straight through him.
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