Zadayi Red (27 page)

He whooped his excitement.

He angled down the hill to the base of the spire to figure out a way to climb it. He reached up to test a hold with his right hand.

A spear point slammed into his left armpit.

He fell and rolled downhill. The spear levered out, ripping flesh.

He came up on all fours and skittered behind a boulder.

He breathed. His hearing, his sight, his smell soared into full alert.

His eyes fixed on the spear lying out in the open, bloody.
That point cut through me a fingernail’s span from my heart and lung.

I’m still alive.

His eyes ate everything within throwing distance and saw nothing.
What the devil?!

Alive but bleeding plenty.

My enemy knows where I am. I have to move.

His enemy was also somewhere above him. Which gave Zeya an idea. He slipped his spear across his back, through the straps that held his sling bags. He let his war club dangle from its wrist loop. He took a second look up. Impossible to climb. Except . . . except he needed the impossible.

Zeya reached high and slipped his hand into a crack. No good, too wide. He fished for a hold inside of it. No luck. He made a fist. Ecstasy—it filled the crack tight. He leaned his weight on the fist, walked his feet a couple of steps up the wall, jammed the other fist into the crack up higher, stepped up again, and grabbed a high handhold. In an instant he was on top of the boulder. His eyes made a survey in a circle. Still he saw nothing.

He slipped his sling bags off and climbed the cedar that hung out from the top. Still nothing.

Suddenly a man sprinted out of an outcropping, straight toward Zeya’s perch. Caught in the branches of the cedar, Zeya couldn’t get off a spear throw.

A Tusca. Inaj has sent someone to kill me.

The man stood near the boulder for a moment. The big rock was shaped kind of like a mushroom, wider on the top than the bottom. His foe had only a nub of an ear on the right side, maybe from an old wound.

Nub Ear let out a war shriek and charged around the boulder to the downhill side and . . . found nothing.

In a moment Nub Ear reappeared beneath Zeya.

Zeya smiled to himself. His mind spun with thoughts about what the man must be thinking. With any luck, he was looking for Zeya in every direction but up.

I’m hidden right above you.

Thought, breath, pumping blood—all were vined together.

But what if he does look up?

Quiet as a cat, Zeya climbed back down the tree. He wondered if Nub Ear would find a way to climb the rock. He listened for scraping noises, sounds of hard breathing. None. He peeped over the edge and saw nothing—Nub Ear must be back under the cap of the mushroom.

If the bastard tries to climb up, I will ram my spear down his throat.

But nothing.

Still, Zeya had an advantage, the high ground. Also, he knew where his enemy was.

Zeya went to all fours on the boulder. If the man made a move . . .

Now he saw one moccasin foot sticking out. Nub Ear was looking, listening, thinking.

Zeya remembered to clamp his left arm hard to his chest. He couldn’t wait forever—he was oozing blood. Several of his eagle feathers were already soaked.

Su-Li flew closer and circled.

They didn’t have a signal for,
If you pissed, you would hit your enemy on the head.

And it wasn’t quite that way, yet.

Zeya wanted to holler, “Why didn’t you spot the danger?” He knew the man must have been concealed, lying in wait.

He crouched, tense, nerves like plucked strings.

He had an idea for an attack, a wild one, more a howling urgency than a plan. The moment Nub Ear stepped away from the boulder, Zeya would pitch himself directly on the man, knock him down, and before he knew what was happening, cut his throat.

Fears fluttered through his mind like bats. Nub Ear had every advantage on him. Bigger, stronger, heavier, more experienced in war, and most of all not so scared.

The foot moved.

A shoulder appeared.

The foot and shoulder circled the boulder clockwise.

Carefully, creeping, Zeya circled with them.
He must be looking for my tracks!

On the far side of the boulder, back where he’d climbed up, Zeya could see more of Nub Ear. His enemy was looking all around. Then, survey completed, he stooped.

Maybe he sees one of my footprints in that bit of sand between the rocks. He’ll see that the tracks end and he’ll realize . . .

Nub Ear looked up.

Zeya hurled himself into the air.

Nub Ear shouted and started to roll.

Zeya’s hip whacked Nub Ear’s shoulder. They bounced apart and scrambled to their feet.

Nub Ear grabbed for his knife.

Zeya cocked his war club.

Nub Ear darted inside the club’s arc, making it useless. He thrust at Zeya’s belly.

In desperation Zeya flung a forearm at the slashing blade. He felt a fierce burn along his lower ribs.

He dropped his war club and jerked out his knife.

Su-Li seized Nub Ear’s neck in his talons. The claws dug in. Blood streamed. Nub Ear bellowed.

Before he could think, Zeya rammed his knife into the man’s belly.

Unbalanced by Su-Li, Nub Ear toppled backward. Gripping Zeya’s knife hand, he pulled his enemy down on top of him.

Zeya jerked his knife out and buried it in Nub Ear’s chest.

Su-Li fluttered into the air and perched on the boulder.

Straddling his enemy, Zeya looked into Nub Ear’s eyes, turned his head, and vomited into the sand.

T
his time Su-Li found a cave for Zeya, signaled the way to him, and watched impatiently until Zeya got the bleeding stopped with a piece of soft hide.

Su-Li brought in dead grasses, twigs, and small limbs for a fire. He himself disliked fires. When he’d finished, he plucked some dried meat out of one of the sling sacks, dropped one piece on Zeya’s forearm and the other on the ground for himself.

“You wonder what I’m thinking about that man. He knew what I’m doing, seeking out nests. Looks like he even knew which nests.”

Su-Li just looked at Zeya.

“I can’t stand the dark.” In the last of the day’s light Zeya got out flint and lit Su-Li’s kindling.

Zeya bit off pieces of the jerked meat and contemplated Su-Li, or his mortality—neither of them was sure which.

“Do you think Awahi gave me away?”
Chew, chew, chew, swallow.
“Looks like it.” More chewing. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

Su-Li cocked his head sideways at Zeya.

“Awahi guessed why I want the feathers. I could see it in his eyes. He wants the Cape of Eagle Feathers restored, too.” Zeya felt of several thoughts and spoke one. “He loves eagles.”

They finished their meat. “So who told Inaj? What did he know? What
could
he tell?”

Su-Li did a quick flip of his head to the other side and looked at Zeya with that eye.

“We don’t know, do we?” He swallowed the last of his
meat. “But we know the bastards will be waiting for us ahead, don’t we?”

He pulled the elk hide over his body, used his hands for a pillow, and closed his eyes.

Zeya spread out his eagle feathers for Paya to see. After plundering the nests of the Cusa region, he had forty-nine.

“Oh! Oh!” cried the crabbed-over man, jumping up and down and circling the elk hide. Zeya was displaying the feathers just inside the mouth of the cave, where the wind wouldn’t disturb them. Su-Li sat on a rock projection in the mouth itself, where he could fly away.

Zeya grinned at the buzzard. Paya looked like a toad hopping around.

The little man threw furtive glances at the spirit animal. Su-Li glared back.

“Yes,” Zeya told Su-Li right in front of Paya, “I know, you’re not sure we should show them. But Paya is a friend.”

The Crab Man beamed at Zeya, who thought,
I bet he hasn’t had a friend in twenty years.

“Paya showed me the cave,” said Zeya, “and all its beauties. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, Paya did, I did.”

“And that led to all the good things that have happened. It gave me this mission.”

“Yes-yes!”

“And besides, Paya knows this mountain backwards and forwards.”

“Yes-yes!”

“I should say inside and out. Underneath and on top!”

Paya giggled. “Yes-yes-Yes-yes!”

“And I bet he knows where the eagle nests are.”

The little man hesitated. “Maybe. But they’re, they’re, they’re dangerous.”

“Sure they are. But I have Su-Li to protect me. He flies up high and looks around—you know buzzards see everything—and warns me if there’s any danger.”

“Umm, umm, umm.” It was a squeaky, frightened sound.

“Do you like the feathers?”

“Yes-yes.” He grasped one gently and lifted it into the light like a pearl of great price.

Suddenly he dropped it. The feather arced its way to the floor of the cave.

“Blood,” said Paya. His voice was curdled.

“I used to wear some of them around my neck,” said Zeya. “When I got scratched, I bled on them.”

He picked the feather up. “I’ve been meaning to clean them. Feathers can’t be hurt by water—they’re made to get wet. May I use some of your water?”

Paya barely nodded.

Zeya dipped his fingers into the gourd Paya kept in his rocky camp home and stroked the feather gently. “See now, it’s good as new.”

He offered it to Paya, but the stooped man wouldn’t touch it.

“Paya, this is what I’m hoping. Tomorrow you will show us the three nests on this mountain. You know where they are, don’t you?”

Paya gave a meek nod.

“And you won’t even have to go near them, I promise. You can show us from above, a long way off.”

Paya nodded but didn’t say anything.

“So that’s yes?”

“I’m scared,” said Paya.

Zeya was prepared for this possibility. He drew out a fine obsidian knife with a handle made of a bear jaw, the one once owned by Nub Ear. It was better than his own, but he felt spooky about keeping it. “If you’ll help us, I’ll give you this,” he said.

Paya took the knife. He held the edge so that it gleamed in the half light. He inspected the strength of the binding, handle to blade. He beamed like a kid. “Yes-yes,” said Paya.

It wasn’t an easy morning. The first nest sported two eggs and a mother sitting on them. The second involved a scramble so much up and down that Zeya could barely keep up with the bent-over Paya. And when they got near the next, so close Paya was trying to point it out with an extended finger, Su-Li came wing-flapping hard at them.

He swooped directly over their heads, made a turn sharp enough to shave a head clean, and sped right back where he came from.

Zeya frowned. He ran it through his mind several times, but it came out the same way every time. “There’s someone over by that nest. Someone who’s waiting for me and wants to kill me.”

“Oh-oh-oh,” said Paya. He scurried back the way he came.

“Wait!” called Zeya. They weren’t within range of the enemy’s spear yet. They didn’t have to run like ducklings home to mother. They could plan something.

Paya was scampering up and down boulders and rock faces like a lizard. No chance of stopping him. Zeya trailed his friend as fast as his weary bones would carry him.

Except that Paya disappeared.

Zeya got to a long, open stretch following the ridge, and there was no sign of Paya.

The only cover was the forest on the mountainside a hundred feet below. Would Paya hide in the woods? From Zeya? Why?

Su-Li glided down so fast he made Zeya jump. The buzzard picked up a big pebble in his beak, floated onto Zeya’s shoulder, and dropped the pebble into his hand.

Again, Zeya sorted through the signals, and again there
could be no mistake. A cave. But that didn’t make sense. The cave was a half day’s walk away.

Wait. Maybe I better follow Su-Li.

Paya was holed up in a tiny opening. At first Zeya thought he was sucking his thumb like a baby. He was in fact whimpering, and that did not endear him to Zeya.