Wabi (16 page)

THWACK!

I suppose my three additional bone-crushing blows along its spine were not needed, even though it was still twitching its tail. Nor was it absolutely necessary for Wigowzo and Malsumsis to rip out its throat. But it made us feel better.

The only problem with our destruction of Big Lizard was that we made a bit of noise doing it. Malsumsis's and Wigowzo's loud battle growls and my occasional Hoo-hoos were, I am certain, heard for a considerable distance. I suppose we no longer sounded like foolish, unwary prey.

As a result, we made our passage through the rest of the swamp with nothing larger than a mosquito attacking us. That was disappointing.

In the mud on the other side of the swamp, we found the tracks of that large cat creature, as well as that of at least one other with large webbed feet. Those tracks led away from the swamp. The webbed ones were spaced so far apart that it seemed this creature was running as fast as it could. I looked a little closer at those webbed tracks. They were familiar. I had seen them before.

I started chuckling. My old acquaintance Toad Woman was surely the one who had made those tracks. And from the look of her hasty stride, she was heading as far and as fast away from us as she could go. Perhaps she would find another valley beyond this one, one that was even more safely far away from either disagreeable owls or human warriors who (in spite of their best effort) still hooted like owls when they were excited.

I did not chuckle for long. We were out of the swamp, but not out of danger. The tracks of that cat creature led out onto a wide plain. It rippled with small hills and ridges, but there were no trees. The land that rose up before us from the marshy edge of the swamp was gray with ash. Everything had been scorched more than once by fire.

I placed my hand on Malsumsis's back as he leaned against me. Somewhat to my surprise, Wigowzo came and leaned against my other side. I was fully accepted now as her pack leader, as her friend. They both stared out at the wide dead plain before us. They saw, as I did, a cloud of dust in the distance that seemed to be growing closer.

“Be ready,” I said.

The low-rumbled growl that came from both their throats assured me that they were.

THERE WAS NO WIND, BUT each time our feet touched the earth a little puff of ash came up. This land was covered by ashes. But it was not a lifeless land. Here and there, as they always do, grasses and other small plants were beginning to grow up. If no other fire swept through here, this plain would flow again with grasses. Animals and birds would return. But not now.

The ashes looked almost like dirty snow. It was slippery under our feet. We took only a few more steps before we stopped. There was no point in going any farther. That cloud of dust was continuing to grow larger and closer. I squinted my eyes, trying to see whose swift passage across the burned plain was raising that dust cloud.

At last, when it was twice the distance of an arrow shot away, it was close enough for me to make out figures. What I saw first were wolves. Thirteen of them had been harnessed and tied together to pull a sled much like the ones I had often watched humans slide on top of the snow. A tall figure, so bent and gray that it looked almost like a heron, stood on that sled being pulled by the wolves. In one hand it grasped a long rope tied to the leads of the wolves. In the other hand was a whip. The tall figure used that whip to strike at the bleeding flanks of the wolves and make them run faster.

Now I could hear, above the panting of the wolves and the swish of the sled, that tall being's high, hard voice.

“Bemawomahla, kagawmahla!” it shrieked.
Run, run all day!

Close behind that sled loped the creature that had made those cat tracks. It looked something like the long-tail that hunts at night, but its chest was deeper. It was so much larger, it would have made a normal mountain lion look like a bobcat next to it.

Like the bobcat, this creature had a short tail. Unlike either of those common cats, this beast had two great fangs that hung down from its upper jaw. Each of those spearlike teeth was the length of the front part of my arm.

Malsumsis and Wigowzo were growling loudly now. I understood the anger they were feeling at seeing their relatives tied and treated with such cold cruelty. They were ready to tear that tall figure from the sled.

“Wait,” I said in a soft voice.

Heeding my word, my two friends crouched down. They would wait, but they were ready to leap forward in a heartbeat.

I knelt down myself, leaning Head Breaker against my knee. I unslung my bow from my shoulder and fitted an arrow to the string. The wolves pulling the sled were so close now that I could see how thin and worn they were, how their eyes were bloodshot, and how their feet bled. The anger within me grew, but I waited. Knowing when and where to strike is something every owl has learned by the time it grows to adulthood.

“Hoooo-hooo,” I whispered under my breath.

The tall being pulled back on the reins when the sled was only a stone's throw away. The wolves skidded to a stop and flopped down on the ruined earth, so exhausted that they did not try to shake their coats free of the ash that rose up and settled on them. The spear-toothed cat stopped also. It slowly lowered into a half crouch. Its small tail swished back and forth as it stared at us with a mixture of hunger and disdain.

The tall being pushed back the hood from its head. What it disclosed was a face that might have been that of an old human female had it not been so thin and bony, had its eyes not been so large and black, its teeth so sharp. I knew I was looking at the one who ruled this sad place. Winasosiz. The Oldold Woman.

The bony creature's mouth opened wider as she smiled. She raised one arm to point a clawed finger at us.

“More wolves to pull my sled,” Winasosiz cackled. Then she pointed that finger at my chest. “Human food for my pet to eat.”

I raised up my bow and began to pull back the arrow.

As I did so the Oldold Woman held her clawed hands out, palms spread open wide. Her voice grew softer, smooth as the flow of thick sap from the torn bark of a pine tree.

“You cannot move,” she whispered. “You cannot think.”

Something washed over me. Its touch, not just on me but inside me, was like that of icy water. Yet it did not stick. I thrust it away from me with one flap of the wings within my mind.
No one tells an owl what to do!
I drew my arrow back farther.

“You are weak,” she said, her voice growing louder. “You do not have the strength to hold your bow.”

“Are you sure of that?” I said, drawing my arrow back to my cheek and taking careful aim.

I looked straight at the evil face of the Oldold Woman. She had ruined this land just to make it easy for her to have her sled pulled across its ashy surface. I could read that thought in her mind now. It was a thought accompanied by other thoughts. She and the terrible creatures she commanded would destroy the rest of this valley. Then they would move on to the next valley and the next. They would not stop until every place was as burned and dead as her greedy heart. Her great power had twisted her. She hated all life, longed to destroy it all.

“No human can resist me!” she snarled.

A smile came over my face.
But what about a human who used to be an owl?
I pulled my arrow all the way back.

As I refused her command, I saw something in her face that I felt sure had not been there for a long time. Uncertainty.

“Let go of your weapon!” she screamed, waving her clawed hands in frustration.
Poor choice of words,
I thought.

“Like this?” I said, releasing my grip on the bow string.

With a twang my arrow sped from the bow, burying itself deep in the shoulder of Spear-tooth. The huge cat lurched to the side, then turned back in my direction—just in time to catch my second arrow in the center of its chest.

I am sure that arrow struck into its heart, but Spear-tooth did not die. It stumbled, then tried to gather its feet under it to leap. Before it could, it was attacked by Malsumsis and Wigowzo, who both went for its throat. Spear-tooth rose up on its haunches, trying to claw at them. Then it was buried by an avalanche of gray fur and flashing teeth. Even though they were still tied to that sled, those wolves remembered they were wolves. My defiance had weakened the Oldold Woman's control over them.

All of this happened in less time than it takes for a stone thrown high into the air to return to the earth, but when I turned my eyes to the sled, the tall figure was gone.

There was a sudden cracking sound behind me. Something came snaking in around me, knocking my bow from my grasp and drawing blood from my wrist. Another crack and a wave of fire cut across my shoulder, driving me down to one knee.

I turned to look up. Oldold Woman stood there, her arm raised to strike at me again with her rawhide whip.

“I am Winasosiz,” she cried. Her voice was shrill as a storm wind.

She swung her arm forward, aiming at my face. But I rolled backward and this time her blow only struck the dusty soil, raising a cloud of ash.

“I will destroy you,” she screamed, leaping forward to strike yet again. Fast as her whip arm was, my other arm, which had grabbed Head Breaker, was faster. The whip wrapped itself around my upraised club. I yanked hard and the whip tore free from her clawed fist. She stood there, staring at me with her huge dark eyes. This could not be happening. No one could defeat her.

Poor Winasosiz. She was so stunned that I think she did not even realize that the fight between the wolves and her very dead Spear-tooth had now ended. She did not notice that the wolf pack had gnawed free of their ropes. She was slowly being surrounded.

“I am Winasosiz,” she cried one final time. Her voice lacked conviction.

“Hoo-hooo!” I said. “I am Wabi.”

I had intended our little discussion to be longer. However, it was cut short—as was the life of that evil being—by the teeth of Malsumsis and Wigowzo and the rest of their angry relatives.

PERHAPS THAT EVIL BEING'S FLESH tasted as foul as it smelled, for after they had finished killing her, all of the wolves moved back from her body. I looked down at Winasosiz, the powerful being who had brought so much suffering to this wide valley. Her long clawed fingers were clutched against her chest, as if trying to still grasp some small part of that awful strength that had made it possible for her to control the lives of others. All she held now was her own death.

Perhaps she had been human once and had become changed and twisted by all that power. Perhaps she was some other being that simply had a humanlike shape. It did not really matter. I rolled her over with my foot so that her face was toward the earth. She did not deserve to look up at the sky. Let her dark eyes be turned to the soil. Let her body return to the land and feed the grass struggling up through the ashes.

Malsumsis shoved his nose against my thigh. I placed one hand on his head and then the other on the head of Wigowzo as she came up to my other side. I knelt to look closely at them both, running my hands over their bodies. Malsumsis was limping, but I felt no broken bones. Wigowzo had a slash on her chest and another cut near her eye. Both cuts were clean and had ceased bleeding. Once they could wash themselves in fresh water, they would be all right.

Then I rose to look at the other wolves that had been the slaves of the evil one. Like my two friends, most had suffered wounds from the sharp claws and fangs of Spear-tooth. Two of the wolves sat on their haunches, licking wider slashes than the wounds my friends had suffered. Yet it seemed that all of the wolves would survive. Or so I thought until I saw the one wolf at the feet of two others who stood over her like guardians.

I walked slowly over to those three. Other wolves stepped aside as I did so. I could hear a murmur of wolf thoughts.

Still, the two wolves who stood guard growled softly as I approached.

Malsumsis limped up to look at them.

The two guardians stepped back. I knelt down to look more closely.

That one badly wounded wolf, whose grizzled muzzle showed her to be the oldest of them, lay on her side, panting. Her body was twisted in a way I did not like to see. I gently ran my palm over her hindquarters, feeling her back. It was broken.

Malsumsis bent his big head down to the dying old wolf and whimpered. I understood the question he was asking. Hearing it made my human eyes fill with that moisture which I now knew to be tears.

The old mother wolf lifted her head weakly and whined back to him, her eyes holding his in a way that was so tender, it made my own heart feel as if it was about to burst.

It had been so long. He had only been a cub, the one who fell into the river and was washed away. But Malsumsis's mother recognized his scent just as he did hers. She raised one front paw, an effort that I knew had to be hard for her, and touched his cheek with it, drawing him closer so that she could lick his face.

Happy,
she whimpered.
Happy
.

Then the Great Darkness came down and spread its wings over her. Her head fell back to the dusty earth as her spirit rose from her body, her feet finding that trail of stars all wolves know to follow.

Malsumsis raised his head toward the sky and howled. Wigowzo and the other wolves joined in. Their song of loss and victory echoed across the whole of the wide valley. I raised my own head and sang with them.

As if in answer, drops of rain began to fall. Down the rain came, washing our uplifted faces, mixing with our tears, moistening earth that had been dry for too long, washing away the ashes. All around us new blades of grass glistened as bright as life and hope returning.