Unease Grows
"CRIPES," CHARMIAN GRUMBLED when a boom of thunder echoed in the distance, loud enough to make the ground quake. "Is it going to rain again?"
Stick-In-The-Dirt and Mani walked alongside her; they'd left Niskigwun behind to retrieve the gift that Charmian had brought Manabozho, and were already well on their way toward the camp that had been made earlier. Charmian was wearing her backpack again, having temporarily covered the tear in it by unfolding Old Mother Manitou's wall hanging in the bottom of the pack until it could be fixed. Stick-In-The-Dirt peered up at the lowering sky and bit his lip.
"Perhaps it will bring good news for Kenu," he suggested.
Charmian frowned, then turned thoughtful. "Oh. You mean more Thunderbirds...I wonder!" She slowed her step and stared at the clouds. "If any Animiki are passing through...maybe it would be a good idea to send him along with them. Considering that Nigankwam is gone..." Her voice faded, and she lowered her head, then started walking again. Stick-In-The-Dirt and Mani shared a look, then followed.
Something wrong, Red Land One...? Mani whistled.
"You still bother yourself about the old one?" Stick-In-The-Dirt asked. "You do realize that we did all we could...?"
"That's the problem," Charmian said, unable to meet their eyes. "What if I didn't do everything I could?"
The medicine man furrowed his brow. "But...you used that scroll that had been given you, the one from Little Wind. There was nothing more that you could have done!"
"But what if I did it wrong?" Charmian lifted a hand to her mouth and started chewing on her thumbnail. "He said I had to say the words just right. What if I messed it up? What if I said something wrong? I didn't write it down. I knew I should've. What if it is my fault that Nigankwam and the other Animiki are dead...?"
It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of her head since the battle...but she'd been able to shove it away, until voicing it aloud. Now it surged up in her as fresh as anything, and she remembered the awful look on Kenu's face once he'd discovered that his grandfather was gone forever. What if he's an orphan now because of ME? she thought, and had to squinch her eyes shut, trying to fight back tears.
She heard Stick-In-The-Dirt pause, then he touched her arm. "Charmian! You know this isn't so! If--if this is what happened--then it's that scroll's fault, and that Little Wind, for leaving you with such a difficult spell. You can't be expected to remember such things! And the way I see it he shouldn't have had such medicine in his possession anyway. Really--a trainee--with a scroll like that? Perhaps Thomas was right and there was something wrong about him. I do believe he was lying to us."
Red Land One, Animiki would've fought no matter what, Mani added. Would've been hurt whether you tried or not!
"But if I messed it up even more..." She lifted a hand to rub it against her eyes, scowling. "That means I'm responsible for what happened, and for Kenu. That means that at the very least, I have to make sure he ends up somewhere safe. He won't be safe with us--I can barely even keep an eye on Winter Born." She halted and glanced up again at the sky. "He'd be best off with his own kind."
Stick-In-The-Dirt furrowed his brow again. "But he's a stubborn little fellow...what makes you think you can convince him to leave, when he was convinced to come? He does believe he has a duty to uphold..."
Red Land One, Mani said again, know Animiki better than you do. Trust Mani! He will not be talked out of it. Best to just keep him along for now. Nothing more you can do.
Charmian's step slowed again, her eyes watering; she finally halted and wiped at them. "I know," she said in a small voice. "I just...wish there was something more. I feel just like when I was fighting Chakenapok...stuff just keeps getting worse." She blinked, then lifted her head and frowned. "What the heck is taking Niskigwun so long? I asked him to get that gift ages ago." She glanced over her shoulder, then her frown grew and she turned around. "It'd be just like him to pretend NOT to find it!" She clenched a fist, quickly growing irritated. "I wish he and 'Bozho would just get over that stupid spat anyway!"
Stick-In-The-Dirt rubbed his hands together. "Perhaps we'd just be best off waiting at the camp...? He did say he would come back."
"I bet he's doing something funny to that gift," Charmian said, then started stalking off in the direction they'd just come from. The other two blinked, then hurried to follow her. They caught up and Stick-In-The-Dirt waved his hand at her.
"Charmian! You just said yourself that it's going to rain! You really distrust a Michinimakinong this much--?"
Doubt he even has a sense of humor, Mani added.
"I don't think HUMOR'S remotely involved," Charmian said, fuming. "I knew I should've just looked for that thing on my own! Don't you guys remember how he and 'Bozho can't stand each other--? Because of that lady Michinimakinong abandoning Turtle like that? 'Bozho's hated the Turtle Spirits ever since! He can't seem to wrap his brain around the fact that not ALL of them are so heartless!"
"You really believe he would threaten your gift in such a childish manner?" Stick-In-The-Dirt insisted, and Charmian finally slowed her step, again chewing on her nail.
"You're right," she admitted after a moment; "that's more Manabozho's style." She started walking again. "But I still wouldn't put lying past him!"
Stick-In-The-Dirt and Mani looked at each other, then let out large sighs before following.
The walk back to the ruined camp didn't take as long, seeing as she practically marched all the way there, but it had started to trickle by the time that they reached it, and Stick-In-The-Dirt made faces as he brushed his dripping feathers out of his face. "Niskigwun?" Charmian called, then scowled. "I KNEW I should've just gotten it on my own...but no...had to send him along." She slowed her step at last as they reached the outer edge of the camp, and she frowned, glancing from left to right. The others slowed to a stop as well, looking around in puzzlement.
"Where is he?" Charmian finally asked, her brow furrowing. She eyed the smoldering wigwam remains; aside from the Mide lodge, there was nowhere big enough left to hide--as if the Michinimakinong would even be interested in doing so. "He should be right here."
Stick-In-The-Dirt frowned as well, taking a step forward. "Perhaps he headed back...?"
"He would've flown over us." She started walking. "I wasn't even anywhere else but here...why would he go looking somewhere else?" She halted, staring at the ground, then bent to retrieve something. She cupped it in her hand. "Manabozho's gift." An uneasy look entered her eyes and she turned back to them. "It's right in plain sight...how could he miss it?"
"There are tracks leading this way," Stick-In-The-Dirt said, looking at the ashes. Mani pawed at the ground, and started pacing in circles, sniffing; after a few moments he bristled, and then started letting out an odd growling noise which made the other two jump. They turned to face him.
"Mani?" Charmian asked. "What is it--?"
The manitou's ears flared. Bad smell, he growled, but before she could ask him what that meant, a rustling noise came from the other side of the camp, and they glanced up in time to see the doorflap of the Mide lodge get thrown aside, Cutfoot stepping out. He stared at them with dark eyes.
"You're seeking your friend?" he called out.
Charmian stared at him for a moment, confused, then slowly nodded. "Niskigwun...he has feathers on his head." She gestured at her hair.
Cutfoot's look just grew darker. "I think you should come inside, then." He turned and vanished back within the lodge, leaving the other three looking at each other, perplexed. They started making their way toward the lodge, all silent now, Charmian and Stick-In-The-Dirt both fiddling with their Megis shells as they walked. Charmian glanced around the camp once more, but still couldn't see anything distinctive; they pushed aside the flap and stepped into the long lodge, blinking in the firelight that illuminated the place. The flap fell back into place and they rubbed their arms, except for Mani, who simply stood inside the doorway with his head lowered so his antlers wouldn't gash open the roof. Charmian craned her neck to see Cutfoot walking toward the far end of the lodge.
"What is it?" she called out. "Has he been here?"
In response Cutfoot halted and turned around, gesturing. The fire was in the way so she couldn't see what he was pointing at; frowning, she stepped across the lodge, tilting her head to try to get a better look around the flames. At first she saw the wooden frame of a pallet covered in furs and skins--then she spotted what was upon it. Her eyes grew wide and her heart leapt up into her throat.
"N--Niskigwun!!"
She bolted forward, nearly running straight through the edge of the fire. Stick-In-The-Dirt managed to catch her arm before she could throw herself down at the pallet, and she fought against him as he tried to hold her back somewhat. The Michinimakinong was lying spread out on the pallet beside the fire, his eyes closed and his face pale. His headdress of feathers was tattered and askew, most of his body coated in ashes; but what drew her attention more was the number of ugly bruises covering him. Her eyes scoured down further and she at last spotted what appeared to be a hole just below his chest; her eyes filled with tears and she fought harder to get loose, even as her muscles started to give out.
"Niskigwun--!" she cried, voice breaking. Stick-In-The-Dirt let her go at a look from Cutfoot, and she dropped to her knees beside the pallet, holding her hands out over him but not sure what else to do. She reached out to touch him a few times, yet drew back each time; the wound to his middle wasn't a big one, but it looked deep. Even as she stared at it she saw a shadow move, and Cutfoot held up a spear.
"I believe this is what was used," he said, and she recognized it as Niskigwun's.
"His own spear--?" Stick-In-The-Dirt said, brow furrowing.
Charmian's eyes blurred and she swept a hand across them haphazardly, reaching out to Niskigwun and drawing back again. She bit her lip hard enough to hurt, then caught the glint of something lying on his other side. She sat up straighter to get a better look; hitching in a shaky breath, she glanced up at Cutfoot, her eyes wider than they'd ever been.
The old Mide just gave a short nod. "I found those near him."
Charmian slowly got to her feet, the other three watching as she made her way around to the other side of the pallet and knelt down. She reached out and picked up one of Niskigwun's wings as if they were made of spiderwebs, gently lifting it and looking it over from end to end. She saw the way that it had been torn off--or rather out--and her hands started shaking as the tears began streaming down her face. She had to lower it to her knees before her fingers could wrap around it and crush it.
"What...what did all this...?" she managed to get out, her voice cracking.
Cutfoot lifted one shoulder. "I heard some sort of commotion after you fellows left, but I was in the middle of my chanting, and couldn't make out what it was. It didn't last too long. When I came out, I found him lying in the middle of the camp like this. There was no one else around."
Red Land One! Mani whistled. Bad smell! Just like--
"Megissogwun," Charmian blurted out; she looked up at the manitou, and he nodded. A chilly feeling crept up in her breast and she looked at Stick-In-The-Dirt. "What would he be doing here now? When he's been HIDING all this time?"
The medicine man could only shrug and shake his head, obviously as confused as she was.
Charmian set the wing down and clenched her fists, rubbing one eye with one. "This is my fault! For sending him back for a stupid GIFT! I should've just picked it up myself--or left it behind--or whatever! How can he do something like this--? We're following everything he SAID!"
Cutfoot opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. The others all glanced down at Niskigwun. Charmian followed suit to see the faintest motion in his eyelids; after a long moment, he slowly turned his head a bit to the side, his eyes dragging open just a sliver. They glazed a little before focusing on Charmian, and he took in a shaky breath.
Charmian quickly shook her head and reached out one hand to place it to his chest. "Don't try talking or moving! I don't want you hurt worse!"
The Michinimakinong just stared at her for a moment, his breathing barely noticeable. "It is not...your fault," he whispered, his voice as frail as spiderwebs itself; Charmian's heart twisted on hearing it, and she reached down to take his hand and squeeze it; his fingers were cold. "I should not have...fought him," he added, and grasped her hand back weakly.
"You were just doing what you're used to doing," Charmian said. "If I hadn't sent you for that stupid gift..."
"I thought...at least...I could hold him back," Niskigwun whispered. "He was going to go after you...he is impatient now. He asks...why we waste our time..."
Charmian's fingers clenched around his hand, though he didn't seem to notice; the other three frowned a little at the look which entered her eyes. "He already knows we're doing every damn thing we can," she grated, grinding her teeth. "What the hell ELSE are we supposed to do! We're FOLLOWING all his damn rules!"
"Charmian," Stick-In-The-Dirt said, taking a step forward; his face was anxious. "If this is what he says--perhaps we'd best get going. To Kabebonikka. If we keep waiting..."
"We can't just go!" Charmian protested.
"I doubt you could move him very far and expect him to live long," Cutfoot said, and she gave him an aggrieved look. "That spear went straight through him...and his wings won't grow back, not in that condition. If you leave him here, perhaps I can care for him."
Charmian gnawed on her lip. She hated the thought of leaving him...but the thought of moving him, in this state, was even worse...
Stick-In-The-Dirt leaned over her. "He is a high-level Mide," he insisted softly. "If there is anyone who can tend to him the best, it is he!"
"You can take care of him--?" Charmian demanded, glancing up at Cutfoot, her fingers still digging into Niskigwun's hand.
Cutfoot crossed his arms and flared his nostrils. "I can do what is in my power. Other than that--you can only trust in Gitchi Manitou."
Charmian stared at him for a moment or two, agonizing, then looked back down at Niskigwun. She put her other hand over his and his eyes fluttered open again. "Niskigwun," she said softly. "We have to leave you here...but we'll come back. I promise." She frowned when the faintest trace of a smile made its way to his mouth. "What...?"
"You...promise," Niskigwun whispered. When her confused look grew, he added, "If there is anything I have learned...it is that...the sun will stop in the sky...before you ever break a promise."
Charmian blinked. Then her face dissolved in tears, and she rubbed at them, sniffling. Niskigwun weakly clasped her hand. "Either you'll get better and come after us," she mumbled, "or we'll come back and drag you along. Either way, this time you're GOING to be there for the final act."
"I rather missed it last time..." Niskigwun said, and she hiccupped, a sort of teary laugh. She rubbed at her eyes again and nodded.
"You'll get a front-row seat this time." She rubbed his cold knuckles. "But I mean it. We'll get him for this. Don't worry. And you'll be back with Geezhigo-Quae, complaining about 'Bozho or guard duty or something else stupid, in no time..."
Niskigwun's eyes opened again, wider this time, and he let out a weak gasp. Charmian stiffened when his grasp on her hand tightened more than it had before, and he turned his head, his eyes not as glassy anymore; they fixed on hers so intensely that she took pause.
"Geezhigo-Quae..." he managed to get out, before coughing thinly.
She bent over him. "I'm sure she's safe! We'll make sure of it..."
"No..." He shook his head, wincing a little, and once more opened his eyes. "He...said something," he wheezed, looking at her, and her brow furrowed a little.
"What did he say...?" When Niskigwun didn't immediately reply, she frowned a bit, then looked up at the others. They shared a look of their own before turning and silently departing from the back of the lodge, heading closer toward the fire. She turned back to Niskigwun and leaned closer to hear him better, her hair falling around her face.
"What is it, Niskigwun...?" she asked softly.
He had to blink to focus his eyes. "When he spoke," he whispered, even quieter than before. "It sounded...as if...he knew her, somehow."
Charmian's frown grew. "Of course he knows her...he destroyed her Island, and threatened her..."
He shook his head. "No...more than this." Another wince. "He spoke as if...he knows her well. More things...than he should. I feel that..." he took in a shaky breath "...there is more...they are not telling us."
Silence. Charmian stared at him for a moment or two, unable to speak. "You mean..." Her own voice sounded foreign when it at last came to her. "Geezhigo-Quae...you think...you think she's keeping a secret from us...?"
Niskigwun stared back up at her, and the look in his eyes made her feel cold. "I did not want to think it..." he whispered, his breathing more difficult now, "...but it is the only thing...that makes sense."
Charmian bit her lip a little. She peered toward the others, but if they'd heard, they were pretending not to, staring vaguely toward the entrance of the lodge. She looked back down at Niskigwun and squeezed his hand once more.
"I'll find out," she promised. "But you stay here, and get better--or I'll drag you back from the Spirit Road and...beat you with your own wings."
He forced a faint smile, though she saw his eyes go glassy again, and rather wished that she hadn't made the comment. She patted his hand and got to her feet, heading back toward the other three; they turned around to face her as she approached.
"We have to head back to the camp," she said. "I have to figure something out before we go north." A boom of thunder shook the lodge and she and Stick-In-The-Dirt glanced upward, then she sighed and lowered her head. "I think I'll need to talk with Kenu too...just a little bit." She looked to Cutfoot. "You promise you'll do your best?"
The old Mide made a huffing noise. "Do you imagine that I would take this post so lightly?! I have an image to maintain, you're aware." He straightened himself, appearing to regain his composure, and folded his hands in his robes. "He should be good as new by the time you get back."
Whenever that is...and whatever that means, Charmian thought, but didn't say it aloud. She sighed and nodded. "Should I be leaving any sort of payment--?" she asked Stick-In-The-Dirt, who frowned a little, then rubbed at his neck.
"Well..."
Cutfoot rolled his eyes and made an impatient shooing gesture. "I take credit, you know!"
Charmian wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so said, "Well...okay...I guess I'll charge it, then." She paused, a little confused, then waved at the younger medicine man. "Come on...before it starts storming." She shivered a little and rubbed at her arms even though the inside of the lodge was warm. "I kind of wish I had another one of those scrolls to talk to the Thunderbirds..." she murmured to him. "I don't have any real clue how to call them down or anything..."
"Scroll?"
She blinked and they all stopped. They looked back at Cutfoot. He was frowning at her now, nearly scowling, as if she'd just said something rude. She fiddled her fingers, peered at Stick-In-The-Dirt, then back at him.
"Huh...?"
"What's this about a scroll?" Cutfoot demanded, taking a step toward them; Charmian took a step back, feeling a little alarmed, but then made herself hold her place.
"What's it matter--?" she retorted, without thinking who she was talking to.
Stick-In-The-Dirt waved to shush her. "Just a little spell scroll that was given us--to help us against the Lynxes, back on the southern shore."
"What sort of help?" Cutfoot asked.
Charmian's brow furrowed. "Why so many questions--?" Stick-In-The-Dirt started nudging her and she grimaced. "All right!! Sheesh! It was supposed to make the Animiki stronger fighting against the Lynxes. But I think I messed it up," she said, her shoulders sinking a little. "The Animiki were all killed."
Cutfoot's frown grew. "Do you still have this scroll?" When she nodded he held out his hand and wagged his fingers somewhat imperiously; she bit off a scowl of her own, but dug in her pocket anyway. She handed the little scroll to him and shot Stick-In-The-Dirt a foul look which he ignored. Cutfoot unrolled the birchbark and perused it.
"Hm," he said. "'Bring death among the Lynxes.'"
Charmian blinked. "You can read it?" she asked in surprise.
He made a so-so motion with his hand. "Basically. The general idea of it." He seemed to grow a little perplexed, then looked up at her. "You recited this spell to help the Animiki--?"
Charmian nodded. "That's what the guy who gave it to us said it would do! And you just said that's what it says--bring death among the Lynxes!" She glanced at Stick-In-The-Dirt and Mani. "So, I didn't recite it wrong--?"
"It would've been best if you had," Cutfoot said; when she turned back to him, confused, he gave her such a glare that she nearly shrank into her vest. "THIS is likely the reason why they were killed in the FIRST place!"
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