Call of the Herald (21 page)

The others made similar vows, and Catrin was
left to stand in wonder. She'd had no preparation for this, and she
did not know what was expected of her. She knew that she was
leaving one reality and stepping into a new existence, and she was
unsure of the consequences of this new power.

Finally, Strom broke the uncomfortable
silence. "I'm just glad Catrin's on our side."

* * *

Sweat dripped into Nat's eyes as he scrambled
down a craggy face. He climbed with a mixture of haste and care.
His experience urged him to exercise caution, but his instincts
told him he must flee. The Zjhon were close--closer than ever
before. Already he had been near enough to see their eyes. Using
his staff to steady himself, he climbed past an awkward
outcropping.

When he reached the narrow band of greenery
that stood between the base of the mountain and the sand, Nat
cursed. He was starving and exhausted. After giving up on finding
Catrin, all he had wanted was to get back to town, to find some way
to get to Miss Mariss and food. The need for food and water was
sapping his strength and his sanity. Several times he had found
himself wandering without any idea of where he was going or where
he had been; all he could remember was that he needed to keep
moving.

Suddenly stopping, he realized he'd done it
again. Ankle deep in sand, he turned and only the mountains behind
him gave him a sense of where he was. What he saw when he lowered
his gaze made his location seem irrelevant: half a dozen mounted
men were heading straight for him, and there was little Nat could
do but wait for them to arrive. Maybe they would give him food, he
thought, but what was left of his reason suggested it was unlikely.
Turning away from the Zjhon, back the way his subconscious had been
leading him, he walked. When he raised his eyes again, certain the
Zjhon would overtake him at any moment, he was confused to find
that he must have gotten turned around again, for before him came
riders in a cloud of dust.

Chapter 12

If you wish to find yourself, you must first
admit you are lost.

--anonymous philosopher

* * *

Catrin left the crumbling plateau behind, her
body throbbing with energy, her senses heightened. As the breeze
caressed her skin, the hairs on her arms and neck stood up. The
roar of the mudslide pounded against her overly sensitive hearing,
and she retreated from the din. Followed by Benjin and the others,
she headed toward the northern end of the valley. There the
mountains turned east and the valley grew wider. With little dry
ground, they had to slog through a foul morass. Clinging mud made
loud sucking noises as it hung on to their boots, weighing them
down.

As the valley widened farther on, small
sections of dry land appeared more often, like giant turtles in a
sea of murky water. The valley floor was made up of rolling hills,
and when they found dry spots at the tops of hills, it was only
before they descended into valleys of muck. Puddles harbored fish
stranded by the rapidly receding water.

Catrin wanted to take the fish back to the
river, but she knew it would require too much time to do it right.
She and Benjin had spent hours once catching fish in buckets after
they were stranded by the Pinook River, which had overflowed its
banks. Because the fish would die if they were quickly moved from
warm water and put into frigid river water, they put the buckets
into the river at the shallows until the water temperature
gradually dropped. Then they tipped the buckets over so the fish
could swim out. She had enjoyed seeing the fish disappear into the
river, safe, and wished she could save these fish too, but there
was no time.

The mountains threw long shadows as the
waning sun set fire to the skies; bold strokes of crimson and ocher
made for a breathtaking display. Patches of dry land gradually
became larger, and some were almost suitable campsites. "I think
that hill up ahead looks like a good place to camp," Catrin
announced.

"There's not much cover there. I think we
should try to find a better hiding place," Benjin advised.

"No," she said quietly, determined to embrace
her new role, despite her insecurities. "I'm not going to hide
anymore. I have to show the Zjhon I don't fear them. Instead, I
will strike fear into them. Let them find us in the open, sitting
by our fire, and let them see we are not hiding. Let us invite them
to take us if they will. They will feel my wrath if they do."

No one but Benjin seemed to know what to make
of the change in Catrin. He had accepted her as the Herald and let
her be in complete control of their destinies. The others had known
Catrin most of her life--and theirs--and seemed to have a difficult
time accepting her now as the figure of legend from the prophecies.
But they had seen too much of her power to deny it, and slowly they
came to believe.

"As you wish," Benjin said with a short bow.
He walked ahead to look for dry wood; Chase matched his stride.
Strom and Osbourne remained alongside Catrin as she headed toward
the campsite.

"Is there anything you need us to do, Miss
Catrin?" Osbourne asked, looking uncertain.

Catrin sighed. "Please don't call me 'Miss
Catrin' . . . not you or Strom or Chase. You're my friends, and I
need you. I'm sorry I bossed everyone around and was so mean," she
said, sounding much more like herself.

"Oh, that's all right,
Miss Catrin,
"
Strom said with an impish grin. "We know you have the whole 'Herald
of Istra' thing to contend with. We could probably forgive you for
being weird."

"I want you to dig," Osbourne said in a
high-pitched voice, "from here"--he posed and pointed--"to here,"
he finished with a flourish.

"You best be careful, Osbo. You don't want
risk the wrath of Miss Catrin. Fear the wrath, boy. Fear the
wrath," Strom said as he ducked away from Catrin's playful jab.

While she was relieved to know she had not
lost her friends, Benjin's behavior concerned her. His sudden
change in personality was as bizarre as her own, and she needed to
talk to him soon, but she feared she would insult him. She had
looked up to him for so many years, and he had always been the
first one to help her with her unusual ideas. She would never hurt
him on purpose, but she did need to understand some things about
him.

When they reached the top of the hill, Chase
and Benjin were setting up a fire circle beside a small supply of
firewood already stacked to one side.

"You're absolutely certain about the campsite
and the fire, Catrin?" Benjin asked.

His use of her name annoyed her for reasons
unknown, and she suppressed her irritation. "Yes, this will be
fine. Strom, Osbourne, you asked if there was anything you could
do, and now there is. Would you gather fish from the puddles
please?"

Strom and Osbourne both nodded, and they left
seeking fish.

Catrin turned to Chase. "Can we talk for a
moment, please? I really need to know your opinion on
something."

Chase raised an eyebrow and nodded before
following her. A nearby tree grew around a large bolder, cradling
it in its massive trunk, like a great claw clutching a mystical
orb. Catrin climbed atop the bolder and sat cross-legged.

"Do you believe I'm truly the Herald of
Istra?" she asked. Chase had always been her closest confidant, and
they trusted one another. Before their tragic deaths, their mothers
had been quite close, and Chase and Catrin had spent most of their
childhoods together. Chase had the same pain she had, and she knew
he would be honest with her.

"I think . . ." He paused a moment,
thoughtful. "I think I do, Cat. I mean, all the signs are there,
and you have shown your power." He pondered for a moment then
returned the question. "Do
you
believe you are truly the
Herald of Istra?"

"Yes, I do," she replied. "I didn't want to
believe at first. I tried to tell myself it was all coincidence,
but things just kept happening, no matter what I believed."

"What is the Herald supposed to do?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "I wish I did
know; it would certainly make things easier. I guess I'm supposed
to destroy the Zjhon, but I'll be boiled if I know how or why."

They sat quietly for a while. Strom and
Osbourne returned with an abundance of fish, and Catrin watched
them while her thoughts drifted.

"What did you do on the plateau today? I
mean, how did you hit the ground so hard? I've never seen anything
like that."

"It's hard to explain," she began. "It's like
trying to describe an eagle's call to someone born deaf or a sunset
to someone born blind. I guess in this sense,
I
was born
blind, but something opened my eyes. I'm still uncertain about a
great many things, but I'll give you my best guess. I think the
comet flooded our world with energy, and somehow I can gather that
energy, focus it, and release it. I'm not exactly sure how I do it;
that's just how it feels when it happens."

"I think I understand. What opened your
eyes?"

"It could have been a number of things, I
suppose, but I think it was Peten's staff." She paused. "Something
inside me snapped. I can't tell you exactly what happened, but I'll
tell you what I remember. When I saw my reflection in the wood of
his staff, I knew I saw my own death approaching. I think my
conscious mind accepted my fate and waited for the killing blow.
Perhaps it was my unconscious mind that reacted instinctively." She
realized how strange her words sounded, but they were the closest
thing she had to an explanation.

"Well, Cat, this is how I see things: You're
the Herald and you have great power, but you don't know how to
control it. Your instincts seem to tell you things the rest of us
cannot hear. I don't think you're any different from the rest of
us, except that you've had some experiences that expanded your
mind. The prophecies say you'll destroy the Zjhon nation, so I
guess we should concentrate on doing that first."

Catrin saw thousands of complexities, and
Chase had reduced them to a few simple statements. She shook her
head and laughed. "I'll get right on that nation-destroying
thing."

The pain in her left thigh got her attention
as she got down from the boulder. Most of her body was sore, but
her thigh felt different; it felt as if she had a small spot of
sunburn. Then she recalled having pain in her thigh while she was
engulfed in power. She reached for the tiny carved fish still in
her pocket, precisely over where she felt the sting.

The carving looked worse than she remembered,
now dull and chalky. It retained its shape, and even in its current
state, it was oddly beautiful, and she was surprised it hadn't been
broken or crushed during her misadventures. She guessed it must
have bruised her leg during the climb, and when she could find no
other reasonable explanation, she accepted that.

"What've you got there?" Chase asked.

"I found this while I was exploring the
passage beyond the cavern; I had completely forgotten about it. It
looks like a carving of a fish, don't you think?"

"It's pretty crude, but yes, I'd say it
resembles a fish. I don't think you want to keep it in your pocket
if you want it to stay whole. Here, I have something for you." He
reached into his shirt and pulled out a plain and simply made
silver locket, its worn surface dented and scratched. Catrin had
seen the locket many times but had never seen what was in it. It
hung from a necklace made of thin leather strips braided together
and tied in a knot.

He deftly separated the strips and removed
one. He retied the two remaining strips and slipped his necklace
back on. "You never know when these thongs will come in handy," he
said with a wink. She watched him form a tiny noose from the
leather thong. He extended his open palm, and she placed the small
carving in his hand. He looped the little noose around the tail of
the fish, and created a necklace that firmly secured her
carving.

"May you wear it in good health," he said,
placing it in her hand. She admired his handiwork, holding it up
and studying it for a moment before slipping it around her neck.
She let it hang outside her shirt, so it could be seen.

"It's beautiful in its own way. Don't you
agree?"

"It's a lot like you, Cat. If you look hard
enough, it's kinda pretty," he said with a smirk. "Perhaps you're
both jewels in the rough."

He ran ahead of her back to the campfire,
drawn by the smell of cooking fish. Benjin and the others were
eating fish and drinking the last bottle of springwine. More fish
roasted over the fire, with a plate of fillets waiting to be
roasted.

"I give thanks to the mighty fishermen who
have provided so well for us. My compliments to your skills,"
Catrin said with a smile.

The day had left them tired and hungry, and
the fish were satisfying. The springwine disappeared, and they
wished that bottle were not the last. Despite their exhaustion,
restlessness set in. Benjin kept a watchful eye on the surrounding
land, alert for any movements, but the night remained peaceful and
still.

Catrin longed for something sweet and,
thinking she smelled apples, stood and said she was going to look
around. Clear skies and a full moon illuminated the night, and she
searched the sky for the comet. It was smaller and farther across
the sky, but when she spotted it, her thoughts focused on it, and
she was drawn to it. It mesmerized her and drew her closer, but she
became frightened and turned aside when arcs of power leaped
between her fingertips. Shaken, she walked on, following a trail
defined by smell alone. She was nearly at the base of the hill when
she spotted the trees, mere paces above the mud line.