Crystal Gorge

“She’ll do it without his permission, won’t she?” Rabbit asked skeptically.

“Of course she will,” Dahlaine replied with a faint smile, “but that absurd business makes ‘Holy Azakan’ feel more goddish.”

“I don’t think there’s such a word as ‘goddish,’ Dahlaine,” Zelana suggested.

“You understood what I meant, didn’t you, dear sister?” Dahlaine asked her.

“Well, sort of, I suppose.”

“That means that it’s a word, doesn’t it?”

“Not one that I’d ever use.”

“You’re a poet, Zelana, so your language is nicer than mine. Anyway, crazy old Azakan desperately wants divinity. Whether he truly believes that he has it might be open to some question, but his subjects—or maybe worshipers—have learned to accept his announcement that he’s a god, because their very lives depend upon it.”

“Is there anything at all resembling an army in that part of your Domain?” Sorgan asked.

“Not really,” Dahlaine replied. “Azakan has a goodly number of guards that call themselves ‘the Guardians of Divinity.’ Their primary duty involves intimidating the populace of Palandor so that they’ll applaud and cheer each time the sun rises or sets at Azakan’s command. They carry poorly made spears and clubs, but they don’t really know how to use them. I’d say that their primary contribution to a war with the creatures of the Wasteland will involve staying out of the way.”

3

The Seagull and the rest of the Maag fleet sailed on past the narrow channel that opened out into the bay of Lattash without bothering to stop, and Red-Beard heaved a vast sigh of relief—touched with just a faint hint of shame. He was fully aware of the fact that he was evading certain responsibilities, but he knew that the tribe would survive without Red-Beard of Lattash serving as chief.

As they moved on farther north it became more and more obvious that summer was coming to a close. There were aspen trees and birch scattered among the pine, fir, and spruce, and the leaves of those particular trees had begun to turn, spattering the evergreen forest with patches of red and gold. Autumn was the most beautiful season in the forest, but it also gave a warning. Winter was not far away, and only fools ignored that silent warning.

It was about three days after they’d passed the bay of Lattash when Longbow advised Sorgan Hook-Beak that he was going to paddle his canoe ashore so that he could speak with Old-Bear, the chief of his tribe. “If anything unusual is happening up in the land of the Tonthakans, Old-Bear will have heard about it.”

Sorgan seemed to be just a bit surprised. “Are your people really that familiar with the natives of Lord Dahlaine’s territory?” he asked.

“I’ve gone up there a few times myself,” Longbow replied. “It’s always a good idea to get to know the neighbors. There are a few restrictions, of course, but we can usually step around them. As nearly as I can determine, we won’t need the archers of Zelana’s Domain up in her brother’s country—unless the creatures of the Wasteland attack in millions, but it’s probably a good idea for us to stay in touch with Chief Old-Bear. If an emergency comes along, he’ll be able to pass the word to the other tribes. Help will be there if we happen to need it.”

“I’ll lend you a skiff, if you’d like.”

“Thanks all the same, Sorgan, but I’m more comfortable in my canoe.”

“Could you use some company?” Red-Beard asked his friend. “Boats are nice, I suppose, but I’d like to put my feet on solid ground for a little while.”

“Ships,” Sorgan absently corrected.

“You missed me there, Sorgan.”

“We call them ‘ships,’ not ‘boats.’”

“Well, excuse me.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sorgan replied.

Red-Beard followed his friend out onto the deck of the Seagull, and then the two of them carried Longbow’s canoe up out of the forward hold and lowered it over the side.

It felt good to be in a canoe again, and Longbow’s canoe was one of the smoothest Red-Beard had ever sat in. He rather ruefully conceded that no matter what Longbow did, he was always the best. Some people might have found that irritating, but it didn’t particularly bother Red-Beard. Longbow was his friend, and he almost never tried to compete with him.

It was a balmy autumn day, the waves were gentle, and Longbow’s canoe seemed almost to skim across the surface toward the pebbly beach.

Red-Beard noticed that the men of the tribe seemed to avoid Longbow, which wasn’t really all that unusual. He’d noticed in the past that most people tried to avoid Longbow. “It’s probably that grim expression of his,” Red-Beard said to himself. “I’m sure he’d be more popular if he’d just learn how to smile now and then.”

Chief Old-Bear’s lodge stood alone on a small hillock that looked down over the beach. Red-Beard thought that was very unusual. Most tribe-chiefs set up shop right in the center of the village, but Old-Bear seemed to want to be separate—and alone.

He greeted Longbow rather formally, it seemed to Red-Beard, but different tribes have different customs.

“How did things go in the Domain of Zelana’s brother, my son?” Old-Bear asked.

Longbow shrugged. “It was a bit more complicated there than it was here, My Chief,” he said, “but things turned out quite well. It seems that we have a friend who can do things that Zelana’s family can’t, and she does them without the help of the Dreamers.”

“The old myths are true, then,” the chief observed.

“So it would seem, and she was using me as her spokesman. That got to be just a bit tiresome after a while, and it took me a while to catch up on my sleep.”

Old-Bear looked a bit startled. “I must have misunderstood the myth. I’d always assumed that she’d use one of the Dreamer-children to pass her commands on to the outlanders. What did she want you to tell our friends?”

“Her speech in my dreams was just a bit formal, My Chief, but it more or less boiled down to ‘get out of the way.’ She knew what she was doing, and she didn’t want us to interfere. We had two separate enemies, and they were very busy killing each other—right up until she destroyed them both.”

“Fire or water?”

“She used water this time—a lot of water. The creatures of the Wasteland won’t be going south anymore, because there’s a large inland sea between them and Veltan’s Domain.”