

### Rise of Man

Book 1: Ascendance

By E. Wayne Stucki

Copyright © 2012 E. Wayne Stucki

All rights reserved.

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This book is a work of fiction. All the events and characters portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

See these other books by E. Wayne Stucki available at your favorite ebook retailer:

### Liberty

### Betrayal

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

# Prologue

Footsteps echoed down the empty corridor as Teral Eddam, commander of the humans in the L'Khast Run, and his son walked towards the single door at the end of that long expanse. Only the dark gray of the man's uniform and the bright fluorescent patterns of the young man's clothing broke up the stark white of the walls, ceiling and floor. The color scheme and lighting of the hallway created the illusion that they were moving through light which was more than a little disconcerting. Teral glanced over at the teenager walking next to him. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Abbel, Terals' sixteen year old son, didn't say anything. He just swallowed, gave a jerky nod and kept walking.

As the two neared the end of the hall sensors noted their approach, recognized Teral's biosignature and activated the entry routine. Seconds later the door panel slid aside to reveal darkness which provided a stark contrast to the intense white of the corridor. Then lights in the ceiling of the room beyond began to glow.

Standing in the doorway the father and son watched the growing light begin to reveal rows of tables and shelves filled with computers, discs, tapes, films and, deeper into the room, books. Abbel looked over at his father. "This is a library," he said and gave his father an accusing glare. "This isn't anything new. I've been in libraries before."

Teral gestured at the room. "It may seem to be just a library but what you see is unique. There's nothing like it in the L'Khast Realm or, to my knowledge, in the world. Everything in here's been written or produced by humans and is about humans."

As the person appointed by the Kthpok Masters to be the leader of their human property he was allowed access to the writings of his predecessors. Most of the items on the shelves had been reviewed by Kthpok censors and approved which had been one of the conditions imposed by the Masters for allowing the library. A slight grin crossed Teral's lips as he looked at the rows of cubes, tapes, and books. There were a few ancient manuscripts on the shelves, hidden in plain view, that hadn't been screened by his Masters. He knew there was nothing in those unapproved writings that could be considered seditious or dangerous but just possessing those items without permission was grounds for immediate and painful execution. Of course his death would come only after being forced to watch his family tortured to death and then devoured.

"Are we going in?" The impatient voice brought Teral out of his thoughts. He looked over at the sixteen year old standing next to him. The young man was already the height of his father so Teral could look directly into those stark blue eyes.

"Well? Do we go in or stand out here all night?" Then a hopeful look came over Abbel's face. "If we aren't going in maybe I can go back home and be with my friends?"

Teral reached over to put a hand on his sons shoulder but the young man shrugged the hand away and gave his father a pained look. Chuckling, Teral gestured for Abbel to enter the room before him. "We go in of course."

After making sure the door was secure behind them the human leader led the way deeper into the room. He moved around the shelves, tables, and chairs placed in strategic locations for the convenience of those using the room. The shelves nearest the entrance contained the more modern computer cubes. But as the father and son worked their way towards the back of the large room the cubes turned to films and tapes then books which became older, less well bound. Some were held together by wire or string or leather strips. In the oldest section of the library Teral glanced over to see Abbel staring at the books while taking deep breaths to enjoy the smell of the ancient leather bindings.

At the far end of the room Teral turned down an aisle created by the back wall and bookshelves. This area was the darkest in the room because the height of the shelves and position of the ceiling lights combined to throw shadows over the books.

"Why are we on this aisle?" wondered Abbel as he followed his father. "It's so dark you can't read any labels." He paused to stare up and down the shelf trying to see what was there. "There aren't any titles on these!" he exclaimed after getting a closer look. "Without titles how do you know what you're getting?"

The teenager leaned over to run a finger along a shelf. A streak left in the dust exposed the dark wood beneath. "Besides no one's been back here in...forever!" He glared at his father. "Doesn't anyone clean this place?"

Teral moved to the darkest area of the row, reached up to the top shelf and removed a large cylindrical object. "Only a very few people are allowed to come in here," he said and looked back at his son. "The lead human," Teral tapped his chest with a finger, "his designated successor and a few other high ranking people are the only ones granted to have access to this library. Those who come here and aren't authorized will be executed \- painfully. Only one has tried to get in and paid the consequences. You see our Masters don't agree with wasting time reading material not associated with the work they give us." He gestured at the books on the shelves. "They also question the wisdom of keeping our oldest and most prized documents in books and on paper rather that storing the data on computer media." Teral shrugged and started walking back down the aisle with Abbel following. "Of course, they don't want us wasting our valuable time scanning these items into the computer either.

"As to how to know which item to select," Teral paused to smile at his son who had moved up beside him. "Everything here's been placed according to an ancient pattern that's been passed down from the fathers. By design the Kthpok don't know how it works. Part of that's from human deception and the rest," he gave a little smile, "is mainly from the Kthpok arrogance. Since I'm the only one who knows the system I'm the only one getting the books off the shelf and returning them." Teral motioned around the room, "I know where everything is which means no one comes here without me. And those I bring are authorized." He reached over to touch Abbel on an arm. "Don't worry. Because you're here with me you're in no danger." Teral grimaced and shrugged. "At least not for being here unauthorized."

Using the cylinder he motioned for Abbel to follow and led the way back to a table with better lighting. Teral pulled out a chair and indicated that his son was to sit down. The young man sat down and scooted close to the table. "Now, remember, you asked me a question earlier today?"

Abbel thought for a moment then brightened. "The one about how the Kthpok made us?"

Teral nodded. "That's right. The Kthpok did make us. In a way," he said with a shrug. "But it didn't quite happen the way you've been taught in school." Bending over, he slipped the cover off the cylinder to reveal a roll of paper wrapped around a center of polished wood.

The teenager looked at the cover held be his father and saw that it was made of dark, cracked leather. He couldn't imagine how old it had to be for the leather to turn that dark. Then he unrolled some of the paper to expose writing in faded ink and carefully rubbed his fingers over its surface. "It's old," he said. His awe at something so obviously ancient was evident.

Teral nodded and gestured at the roll. "This particular document is the oldest in the library and was passed down in secret from father to son until the library was established. It's called a scroll and is many hundreds of years old. My father - your grandfather - had it treated to preserve the paper and bring some of its flexibility back."

He reached out and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. This time Abbel didn't think to shrug away. "Now, that you've grown and learned enough to start asking the important questions it's time for you to learn the truth." A grim look appeared on the older man's face. "But you must know that with truth comes responsibility," there was a slight pause, "and danger \- always. This secret is known only to a select few and is never to be shared with anyone else."

Abbel nodded his understanding and worked to adopt a serious manner. Although his son tried to disguise his feelings Teral could sense the excitement behind that stern countenance. "There is one more thing," he said. "Our family has always been among the human leaders for the L'Khast. I learned this secret from my father and he from his father. Now you learn it from me. If our Masters ever discover that we have the knowledge contained in or this scroll," Teral softly tapped the paper, "our entire family will be killed - painfully and publicly.

"Now," he gestured for Abbel to begin reading, "what you'll find in that scroll will answer your questions. The reason the scroll's so big is that it covers several generations of our forefathers."

The young man bent over the paper and studied it for a moment. Then he began reading aloud. It was slow and deliberate as he worked to recognize the words. "I, Makok...son of Kok, son of Karg...make a...record of my proceedings and...that of my fathers." Abbel stopped and looked up at his father.

"Makok couldn't write very well," the young man commented. "It's difficult to read."

"Makok was your grandfather many times removed," said Teral, "and became the first of our family to serve the Kthpok. He was also the first of the human Points. Learning to read and write came many years after he was married with several children. The Kthpok had to teach him."

"The first to serve the Kthpok?" Abbel looked down at the exposed portion of the scroll with the faded ink and his brow furrowed in thought. "That means there was a time when people didn't have to work for the Masters. But the history we've been taught in school says humans have always lived under Kthpok guidance." The boy glanced up at his father again with the unspoken question apparent.

Teral gestured at the scroll on the table. "Read," he said, "and remember that the creatures we know as the Kthpok were called 'Eaters' before our fathers were placed in their service. If you live long enough you'll learn that name still applies today."

Swallowing, Abbel turned back to the scroll and read.

" _I, Makok, son of Kok, son of Karg, make a record of my proceedings and those of my fathers._

Most of my days have been spent in the mountains which sheltered my people. Then the Kthpok took my family and me from those mountains. We have been educated, as our Masters have said, and put to labor for their benefit.

This history is being written so my descendants can know of their fathers. I want my children and their children to know what we have been taken from. I want them to know what we have lost.

This history begins with my grandfather, Karg-the-old."

# Chapter 1

A blinding flash lit up the entire valley and the surrounding mountains then started to fade. Knowing there wasn't much time before it hit Karg didn't waste time by turning around but quickly glanced about for some protection. There were no large boulders or holes that would work; just trees. Picking a particularly large and bushy one that was close by Karg threw himself onto the ground under its thick branches, closed his eyes as tight as he could and curled into a ball with his arms covering his head.

A few heartbeats later a deafening roar like the rushing of many waters falling over a cliff blasted his ears then a strong hot wind coming out of the valley struck the tree. The branches of the tree were thrown back from the force of the gale as Karg's hair lashed about his head. Dust, sticks and small rocks picked up by the wind stung and poked at his skin and the sun dimmed. One of the branches above him broke off to disappear in the gale as Karg gasped and choked trying to catch his breath. This was worse than he remembered. Moments later the wind reversed and blew back into the valley carrying dust and debris with it.

Karg remained in what little refuge the tree provided, coughing and hacking, until the wind stopped. When a slight breeze cleared the dust out of the air and the fit of coughing stopped Karg opened his eyes to peer through the twisted and broken branches into the valley below. His vantage point gave him a perfect view of what was happening. Dominating the scene was a large fiery black cloud like the top of a mushroom rolling higher into the blue sky standing atop a dark cloudy pillar. This cloud was closer to his end of the valley than the others he'd seen.

Careful not to reveal his hiding place by touching any branches of the tree Karg checked the sky and surrounding area for predators. But with the wind and the noise he didn't expect any. At last he crawled out from under the tree and walked along the sloping hillside towards his alcove. Although he hadn't seen anything dangerous his stone tipped spear was always held ready as his eyes scanned the area for threats.

Like the rest of the Clan, Karg walked stooped over and made use occasional use of his knuckles. A prominent brow that shielded his eyes sloped down into a simian-like nose. His mass of thick black hair now matted with dirt, sticks and leaves was pulled back and tied with a leather thong so it fell down his back. Hides of deer and other animals helped cover his nakedness and kept him warm when the cold winds swept off the mountains and through the canyons.

He made his way through the clumps of scrub oak and bushes that dotted the slopes while slipping between or climbing over boulders that had fallen from the mountains. The only sound he could hear was the hiss of the slight breeze moving through leaves and bushes. It seemed the wind from the Sun-on-The-Ground had carried away any birds or insects that might have been in the area. The animals would have gone to ground like he had.

A short distance from the tree he'd taken refuge under he climbed a rise then dropped down into the bay that was his destination for the day. Karg crept through the trees that bordered a small meadow and stopped to look before he moved out into the open. Unlike earlier visits there were no deer getting a drink from the seep or feeding on the grass. He really didn't expect to find any after what had just happened but it was his habit to be careful. That habit had kept him alive over these many years. A deep breath brought in the faint aroma of the small yellow flowers that dotted the grass.

Leaving the trees he continued across the meadow and jumped a muddy area created by a small seep of water to stand beside the large boulder located at the end of the grass. Its fall from the mountain towering behind had placed it next to the cliff edge and gave an excellent view of the entire valley. Karg climbed onto the rock and found a comfortable position. Pulling a piece of venison jerky from a leather bag, he took a bite and stared around as he chewed.

It was beautiful. Snow capped mountains towered all around with trees climbing part way up their slopes. Between the mountains and the valley was a gently sloping area covered with trees and bushes. That small area ended in the steep cliffs that bounded the valley on three sides. Streams fed by melting snow on the mountain slopes fell over the cliffs in various places throwing mist into the air and watering the lush vegetation that edged the cliffs below. Small rainbows could be seen in at least two places. Creeks moved out of their pools by the cliffs then disappeared into the trees that covered most of the valley floor. Karg knew this could have been a wonderful home for the Clan if it weren't for the flashes of light, the hot winds and brown snow.

Whenever he looked into the Valley of Suns, as he named it, his thoughts went back to the time when he'd first discovered the valley. Turning away from the view he found the slope where he, Makto-the-Strong, and Jraf-the-Farseeing had walked down into the alcove tracking a small deer years ago. They'd just reached the small meadow when a sound behind Karg had caught his attention and he turned to see where it came from. Makto and Jraf hadn't heard the sound but continued forward to look into the valley when the Sun-on-The-Ground was born.

Startled by the sudden light and the rumble which followed Karg had turned around in time to see the glow fading and a black cloud with fire inside rolling into the sky at the far end of the valley. The other two men must have been looking directly at the flash of light when the sun was born because they were blinded. And if he hadn't been distracted and looking the other way he'd've been blinded as well.

Karg closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. After these many years he could still hear the anguished cries of his friends. When the hot wind had stopped blowing he'd heard Makto bellowing and saw him pawing at his eyes while, closer to the cliff's edge, Jraf was shrieking in terror and pain. At the time Karg had thought something must have cast a spell on Jraf because the man had been moving along the edge of the meadow, stumbling and crawling over bushes and rocks.

Yelling a warning that Jraf was heading towards the cliff Karg had climbed to his feet and ran to stop the man. But Jraf didn't seem to hear. He'd tripped on a rock and disappeared from sight. Karg reached the cliff's edge in time to see his friend's body bounce off ledges and rocks then come to a stop at the bottom amid a jumble of boulders.

The hunter remembered staring at the twisted and broken body sprawled on a rock far below hoping for any sign of life. But he'd been dreaming. No one could've survived a fall from that height. Then another sound had brought him back to what was happening behind him. There was his other friend.

Turning, he'd found Makto stumbling into trees, over bushes and rocks, clawing at his eyes also heading for the valley. Karg had groaned in misery at the sight and tried to deny this was happening. Screaming in frustration he'd run across the flower covered grass and dove to tackle the screaming man when he was almost to the cliff's edge.

Ignoring the bruises and scratches he'd got from the struggle he cradled the thrashing, shrieking man in his arms and crooned as if Makto was a small child. It'd taken the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon for the touch and sounds to sooth the distressed man.

Coming back to the present the hunter shifted position on the boulder and rubbed his eyes with grimy hands to banish the images he'd conjured. If he could he'd use his fingers to dig out the memories from that long ago time.

When Makto had been calm enough to walk, Karg had climbed to his feet and coaxed his friend up. Then the two hunters had started their exhausting trek back to their home cave with Karg leading a whimpering Makto by the hand.

Karg got down from the boulder, stooped to pick up a rock and threw it out into the valley. He watched the stone arc out and down then disappear in the scrub brush far below. Even after so many years he could vividly remember what had happened days after they'd arrived at Home Cave.

When it became apparent that Makto's sight wouldn't return the Elders of the Clan had ordered him to take Makto away and kill him. The meager resources of the Clan wouldn't support those who couldn't contribute. There just wasn't enough food. After he'd completed his task and buried his friend Karg had taken the wives and children of Jraf and Makto to care for as his own.

A low rumbling drew him back from his memories and he saw the dark cloud caused by the Sun-on-The-Ground reaching high above the mountains. He looked at the sun's position then around at the shadows thrown by trees and knew he had just enough time to return home before it got too dark to walk. He'd spent so much time thinking of the past that he hadn't done any hunting which could mean his family would go hungry tonight if his sons were just as unsuccessful in their hunt. But he wasn't that concerned. They were better hunters than he was.

Shouldering his food bag and holding his spear ready Karg headed across the meadow. Of course remembering past tragedies might mean he was getting old and couldn't concentrate on his task. Perhaps it was time he left the hunting parties to join the Council of Elders where he could give advice to the younger men. Karg gave a slight smile and shook his head. He'd contributed much to the Clan and still had more to give. His wives had bore him a handful of sons and his chest pushed outward in pride. Those sons were the reason the Clan survived the winter now. They brought fresh meat when others returned empty handed and that justified his defiance of the Elders.

Before leaving the meadow Karg paused to look down into the valley again. Even though the rainbows were still there it wasn't as beautiful as he remembered from that first time so long ago. All the plants at the far end to the middle of the valley had been burned by many Suns-on-The-Ground leaving patches of burnt stumps, dirt and rocks. Glints of dirty light could be seen coming off the ground in various places. The streams flowing through the valley were choked with blackened logs, scum and ash.

Turning away from the view he moved into the trees, climbed up the slope and out of the alcove. Moments later Karg crossed over the crest of a saddle between towering peaks and started down the slope into the canyon beyond. His spear became a walking stick because of the steepness of the mountainside. He pushed through a clump of bushes as his thoughts continued. Although they were different from most of the Clan God had made his sons the best hunters. He knew that Eiag, son of Cov, was the strongest and Aeb, son of Bren, could out run any in the Clan. A smile crossed his lips again and he grunted a laugh. His sons didn't need to be the strongest or the fastest; they were the smartest. His sons out thought their prey; they acted together.

After giving a shake of his head to clear his thoughts he continued down hill. If he didn't concentrate on what he was doing he might trip. On this slope a fall could very well be fatal. And his family was too large to lose one of its providers now even if he was getting old. Careful to not leave any mark of his passage he moved down the steep slope, weaving back and forth, slipping through the trees, bushes and rocks that dotted the mountainside.

About two-thirds of the way down the slope Karg moved out of a grove of scrub oak when a sound caught his attention and brought him up short. A few pieces of shale, disturbed by his movement, cascaded down the mountainside. Chagrined at his carelessness, he froze and cocked his head to listen. The rumble and crash from the rocks as they smashed through bushes and bounced off trees was loud but it couldn't mask the new sound. It was something that seemed familiar but... wasn't. He looked around to find where the sound was coming from and that didn't work either. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and was getting louder.

A quick glance around showed there was a bushy spine tree nearby large enough and with dense enough foliage to hide in. It wasn't his ideal choice but he wasn't sure he had a lot of time. Karg ran over, careful to not dislodge any more shale since moving rock would show where he'd hidden.

Moments later he pushed through the screen of branches, making sure none of the branches were broken. Ignoring the pokes and scratches from the green spines and branches he found an area next to the trunk, rooted out a somewhat comfortable position between the limbs and froze.

Karg was beginning to think his caution was foolish when an eruption of noise burst into the canyon. A heavy wind coming straight down from the sky blew dust, twigs and oak leaves in all directions. The branches of the pine tree whipped back and forth, scratching and cutting any exposed skin. Stifling a cry, Karg blinked to keep his eyes clear and shielded his face with his arms. It was obvious his hiding place wasn't going to be enough shelter for this strange gale. He needed a cave or at least a big rock to hide under; something to get him out of the wind. A short distance away, down the mountainside and around a bend of the canyon was such a refuge. He could hide there.

Leaving the trunk Karg inched to the edge of the cover where the limbs and spines drew bloody lines down the exposed skin of his arms and face as they whipped back and forth. His muscles tensed and he reached out to part the limbs.

The thrashing of the branches worsened and the noise became a roar coming from directly overhead. He looked up and... breath froze in his chest as all thoughts of running left his mind.

There was something in the sky that flew like a bird but... it wasn't like any bird he'd ever seen. Moving back against the trunk where he was away from most of the whipping branches and spines Karg studied the new creature as best he could through the dust and branches. He could see that it had no arms or legs which was strange. Even the large leathery birds he'd seen at a distance over the warm forests had arms and legs. And there was the noise. With that much thunder how could it hunt for food? It would drive all prey into hiding long before it arrived.

When the bird moved away his wonder grew. The wind went with it! Ignoring the pain of his cuts and scratches Karg watched the new creature move up and down the canyon as if it was looking for something. As it moved around he saw branches of other trees just below the bird whip from a wind he couldn't feel. A dust cloud seemed to follow the bird. Even stranger, there was a blur above the bird like the blur from the wings of a humming bird.

A chill ran down his spine when he got a clear look at the thing. Besides no arms or legs there wasn't a mouth, nose or ears or head! It was all body with a long thin tail! At the end of the tail was another blur only smaller. And he could see... "Inside!" The word was whispered. The front part of the body was clear with figures moving inside, pointing at something in the canyon. Had the bird eaten those animals alive and whole? If that was the case how could it eat with no mouth? And why was the prey still alive?

A blast of the strange wind returned as the bird came closer. Not wanting to be the creature's next meal Karg wrapped both arms around the trunk of the tree and hugged as tight as he could. This time the wind stayed. Looking up and squinting his eyes from the dust he saw the strange bird had moved over his tree and stopped. His wonder grew. Other birds could stay in one place if the wind was right. But the other birds had wings and this one had just the strange blur above its body.

Dust swirled, whipped up by the strange wind while small rocks and dead spines from the tree were blown around. Karg closed his eyes and clung to the trunk of the tree whimpering in fear. The bird remained over his tree for what seemed an eternity then moved up the slope and over the crest toward the Valley-of-Suns.

When the noise faded completely Karg erupted from under the branches of the pine tree and headed for Home Canyon at a run. He wasn't afraid the bird would sneak up on him. The noise it made would give him plenty of time to hide if it came back.

Rocks bounced down the slope as he ran, slipped and jumped the rest of the way down the mountainside. Hot brown snow began falling when he reached the canyon floor but Karg didn't stop running or care about leaving a trail. The Clan had to be warned about the strange bird that was in the area.

# Chapter 2

Karg rested on a rock shaded by a tree and looked at the valley below. Behind him was a cliff about three men high and had gouges and splits to mark where the boulders which surrounded him had come from. A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and bushes that helped conceal him as he leaned forward to get a better look.

Some distance below was a mass of vegetation meandering along the valley floor. The change of plants from the trees and bushes of the mountainside to the grasses, flowers, and shrubs of the valley floor was an indication of water. A wandering line of trees meant that water had surfaced and what they were hunting for - probably - would be there. He pointed at a particular break in the trees and announced to his son, "We'll start there! It should be good hunting but remember there's always some danger."

Kok looked to where his father pointed and nodded his agreement. He'd been on hunting trips with his father for years now and knew the older man would always treat him as if he was still ten years old. The young man didn't take offense since his father treated all his sons that way. He shifted position to hide a smile and studied the way down. It shouldn't be too difficult, he decided. The slope might be steep but there was plenty of cover they could use. He and his father should be able to stay out of sight as they moved down the rocky mountainside, skirting a nearby rock slide and get into the trees near the stream.

The young man knew that water and plants always drew animals the Clan could use. But there'd also be other hunters; hunters on four legs that wouldn't mind taking a bite out of his leg, or thigh, or arm. They always had to be on guard as a precaution. He adjusted his furs to they wouldn't snag on bushes or rocks as he prepared to make his way down to the canyon floor.

Kok was very different from his father. Rather than being short and stout he was tall and slender. His facial structure didn't have the prominent brow ridges and squashed nose of his parents. He even wore more furs than the others of the Clan because most of his skin was hairless. Although the Clan knew of his birth there were some that doubted Kok's parentage. They claimed he was a demon and had wanted him killed at birth or so his mother had told him. His brothers and sisters were just as abnormal.

Karg took one final look at the valley and then moved next to his son to get a better look at the mountainside they'd have to cross. "I don't want any rocks kicked loose to send the animals we're hunting into hiding," he whispered. A shiver ran down the old man's spine and he shifted to one side to get better view of the hillsides.

"What?" asked Kok in low tones. He'd noticed the change in his father. "What's happened?"

"I don't know," replied Karg slowly as he continued to look at the hillsides. "For some reason I have the feeling we're being watched." He shrugged his shaggy shoulders and glanced over at his son. "I don't see anything out there that's dangerous but that doesn't mean there isn't something there. So we have to be very careful."

With that said Karg moved away from the trunk and leaned on a boulder to get a better view of the sky through the branches. He was looking for that strange bird which kept live animals in its stomach. Maybe that's what he was sensing. It had appeared several times since spring and Karg wondered if it was looking for the Clan. But he hadn't heard the thunder of its approach so that couldn't be the reason for this unease.

Seeing nothing and, more importantly, hearing nothing that might be dangerous, he grunted his frustration. His family and the Clan were expecting the two men to return with meat and they couldn't do it here on the side of a mountain. Their prey'd be found near water. But that nagging feeling of danger still remained. Karg took a firm hold on his wood club and spear then started out of the boulders.

"Look!" hissed Kok grabbing his father's arm before he could leave their concealment and pointed. "The mountain has a bright spot!"

Karg stopped and looked across the valley to see what his son was pointing at. He gave a little jerk when he saw a bright spot shining at them from a large grouping of trees on the opposite hillside. It was so bright he had to immediately look away because it shone just like a small sun. How'd he miss that?

"It just...came," Kok said. "It wasn't there before."

The older man turned to look at his son as he thought of what to do. "Come on!" Karg ordered a moment later and pushed through the branches. "We'll hide in the trees near the stream."

Kok had already come to the same conclusion. He was out of their refuge and starting down the hillside. Karg followed on his heels. The two men moved from bush to boulder to tree, taking full advantage of the available cover. Although both men were anxious to reach the dense cover of the valley they moved with deliberate care. One rolling stone could cause more to move and that would kill them at the worst or could alert whatever was watching on the other side of the canyon at the least. Nor did they want to stir up a betraying dust cloud.

Almost halfway down the steep slope the two men paused to rest under a bushy tree that grew beside a clump of scrub oak. While his father rooted out a comfortable spot to rest Kok peered through the branches, looking for the shiny spot. Grunting, he moved around the stubby trunk to get another view of the opposite hillside. "The bright spot's gone," he announced after a moments search.

Karg slipped over to where Kok was crouching. Moving a small branch a fraction with a cautious finger for a better view he peered at the other side of the canyon. A brief gust of wind rustled the leaves and sent a small puff of dust into the valley but Karg didn't move. After a few moments of intense scrutiny he released the branch and moved back to look at his son. "It's gone but it isn't!" Karg said. "We've rested long enough. Let's go!"

Kok followed his father from the shelter of the tree and the two men resumed their careful hike down to the canyon floor. As he moved down the mountainside Kok thought about what his father had said. Looking back up at the spot where the bright spot had been he considered. His father must have sensed they were still being watched and, after a quick inner inspection, Kok agreed. All of his senses warned him there was still danger.

A short while later the two men slipped into the denser growth of the valley floor and rested in the shade of the trees lining the stream. Karg crouched amid the bushes along the bank of the stream and peered around, taking in his surroundings. His son was just as diligent and joined the inspection.

The stream wasn't large, small enough for the two men to jump, though it was deep and swift in most places. Further downstream were pools created by boulders which had fallen from the cliffs above and blocked the stream. But pools didn't provide food for the Clan. Karg had tried many times to catch a fish but failed. His prey had seen his hand coming and flicked under a rock or out of reach every time.

Grunting in satisfaction that there was no danger Karg looked over at his son. "Keep watch," he ordered then moved down to the pool to get a drink.

As his father drank Kok kept his stone-tipped spear ready and looked around. There was no longer the danger of them being watched by whatever caused the bright spot. Leafy branches from the trees blocked any view of the sky or the upper mountainsides. Only an occasional sunbeam reached the ground giving everything a light green tint. Bushes, ferns and shrubs formed a barrier that blocked the view of the nearby slopes.

When Karg finished drinking he waited for Kok to take his drink before returning to business. He selected one of the several animal runs leading downstream and downwind then moved off. Every sense was attuned, straining to detect any sign of approaching prey or danger as they followed the wandering path.

Although it couldn't be seen through the trees the bright spot on the mountain hadn't been forgotten. Both men could sense something was out there adding to the danger that accompanied the hunt. As a precaution they kept to the trees when the run they were following was exposed to the northern slope.

After they'd been walking for sometime the valley narrowed and the two men came to a point where a large rock sat in the middle of the stream. The water moved around both sides of the rock and fell into another pool on the other side. The run they were following dipped to the edge of the stream on the southern side of the rock and moved on downstream.

Kok and Karg followed the path around the rock and, in a thick stand of trees on the other side, came face to face with a herd of Tuskers. Startled at the humans unexpected appearance, coarse hair on the back of the lead animals bristled as they squealed with fear. The Tuskers nearest the two men turned to run but those in the rear hadn't seen the danger and continued pushing forward. With their retreat cut off, the leaders switched from fleeing to a crazed offense.

Karg, being the most experienced hunter, was in the lead and took the Tusker charge first. The animals were too close to use his spear so he dropped it and gripped his club with both hands. Leaping to one side, his gray streaked hair flying, he brought his wood club down on the head of the lead animal. The impact jarred his arms and stunned the Tusker. He turned to bring his club down on the animal again to finish it off but the rest of the herd was too close and coming fast. Karg changed his mind and tensed to jump out of their way but the next Tusker in line clipped one of Karg's legs throwing him off balance and to the ground.

The instant he hit Karg rolled to get out of the way of the charging animals. He was just getting to a crouch when another Tusker slammed into his side knocking him back down. The force of the blow sent his club flying. Again he fought to stand but gasped in pain when the animal used the tusks on his long snout to gore his thigh. Once again Karg rolled, trying to get away from those tusks. The animal continued its attack and pushed forward to rip and rend the downed man. The rest of the herd smelled Karg's blood as it poured from the ragged wound. Their squeals grew louder and more frantic as they charged.

With a loud shriek of pain the Tusker stopped goring and Karg saw his son step in to shield his father from the rest of the herd. The creature fell over, its head a bloody mess. Kok took another step forward and swung his club again bringing another squeal from another animal.

Using a nearby tree as a brace and panting from the pain, Karg struggled to his feet. The pain seemed to come in spurts but he couldn't stop. Kok would need his help against the herd. A quick glance showed the battle was getting worse. Squalling Tuskers were milling around trying to decide who to attack as Kok continued swinging his club to fend off the animals.

The young man yelled at the top of his voice to keep the animals attention away from his injured father. Dirt, leaves, pieces of fern and grass was thrown into the air from the hoofs of the crazed animals as they made feints, turned and then charged. Another Tusker charged and Kok brought his club down. The animal staggered then fell over. The young man stepped over the downed animal and brandished his weapon.

Once he was upright Karg brushed strands of hair from his eyes and began a frantic search. There! His club was just a short distance away. Dropping back to the ground he crawled over to his weapon dragging his injured leg behind spotting the dirt with blood. Yells and squeals filled the air as the battle continued.

The older man had just climbed back to his feet with his club in hand and turned to rejoin the battle when he heard Kok's cry of triumph. The angry squeals of the Tuskers turned to frustration as they swung around to run. Karg looked down the path and saw a small number of animals racing away. The rest of the herd lay around the young man's feet. Karg's mouth dropped open as he realized what had just happened. He shook his head. It wasn't possible. Makto-the-strong couldn't have done this without help and Kok was considered weak by the Clan. But Karg couldn't argue with what he saw. There stood Kok, bloodied and scraped from the battle, yet triumphant with... Karg quickly counted... seven Tuskers his feet.

Pain washed over him as the excitement of the battle faded. "Kok!" he called. "Help me! I'm hurt." Using his club as a support he settled back to the ground with a groan of pain.

Kok glanced down the path to make sure the Tuskers weren't coming back then hurried over to his injured father's side. Crouching, he studied the wound for a moment probing the gash with his blood smeared fingers ignoring the blood coming from the leg. Whenever Kok touched a tender spot Karg would give a small twitch and a soft moan. An occasional wave from the young man's hand caused the ever present flies to buzz about angrily.

After a few moments of examining the gash Kok leaned back and relaxed. "It's not too serious and should heal if it doesn't get infected," he announced. "But we have to get the bleeding stopped." The young man reached into a leather pouch and pulled out some moss which he packed into the wound. Then leaves covered the moss and everything was held in place by leather strips. "This'll help but you'll have to rest for a while once we're back home," he said as he tied off the last leather strip.

Karg let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded his understanding.

After Kok finished tending the wound Karg struggled to his feet to test the injured leg. It seemed he could walk but there'd be pain. Using his spear for support he gestured at the bodies of the dead Tuskers. "How did you do that?" he asked and hobbled over for a closer look. From what he could see all the animals had split heads, something a wood club couldn't do.

In answer Kok held out his club. "I call it a hatchet," he said.

Karg took the offered weapon and saw it had two parts; a stick and a rock. The stick was as long as a man's arm from the elbow to the hand and had been split at one end. A rock had been placed in the split and kept in place by what looked like strips of dried gut wrapped around the stick and rock. He tested the bloody edge of the rock with his finger and found it could cut his finger.

"Did you make this?" Karg wondered.

"Yes," answered Kok. His father opened his mouth to speak again but Kok held up a hand to stop him. "This isn't the time to get into how it's made," he said as if reading his fathers mind. Kok motioned to the dead animals. "We've got to get this meat back to the Clan. I'll show you how it's done after we get home."

Karg looked at the dead Tuskers and nodded. They did need to get the meat home but there was a problem facing them. There were seven Tuskers to move. That was enough meat here to feed the Clan for a full hand of days. Makto-the-strong could have carried three Tuskers and most men two. But Kok wasn't Makto and Karg was injured. How were they going to get seven good sized Tuskers home?

Karg watched in wonder as Kok took back his hatchet and moved over to hit a tree. In a few moments the younger man returned carrying two small trees with their limbs trimmed off. Then taking another stone from a leather pouch the animals were gutted and tied to the two trees with more leather strips.

As he watched the preparations Karg swelled with pride. His son had made the hatchet and killed seven Tuskers alone. Although Kok was the first born his other sons also showed promise. All in the Clan knew his sons were smartest and any who didn't believe would have to face Kok's great deed.

Kok walked over to his father and held out the hatchet. "You carry this and keep watch," he instructed. "I'll get the meat home." Without a word Karg took the hatchet and watched as his son picked up one end of the two sticks. After receiving a nod from Kok they began the slow, painful trek back to the Clan.

# Chapter 3

Karg paused to catch his breath and leaned against a nearby boulder. As he watched his sons gathering around showing no signs of discomfort from the climb the old man gave a weak chuckle. He really was getting too old for this. Looking back down the way they'd come he guessed they were two-thirds of the way up the mountain. There was a time he'd've climbed this slope without resting or slowing down. But now... A smile crossed his lips. He'd have to tell his sons not to get old.

Still examining the mountainside below him could see a few patches of snow in the shade of trees and rocks. The snow had come last night with the first cold storm of the season. It wasn't cold enough for the snow to remain long and most had already melted off. But the storm meant winter was coming.

Ignoring the small talk and jokes of his sons Karg looked at what lay before him. The mountains his family was in gave way to smaller hills and the jungles of the lowlands were beyond that. In years past by this time the Clan would have been moving to those foot hills and lower jungles for the winter. It was warmer there and food plentiful. The old man shook his head. Food was easy to find in the warm jungles - yes. And that wasn't the only thing plentiful. It seemed predators were under every bush and rock.

The Clan had grown fewer in number during the last three winters. New births were less that what the lowland predators took. And some of the births had to be left out in the night to die when it became apparent the child couldn't survive on its own. The Elders hoped that by remaining in the mountains and away from the lowland forests they could rebuild their numbers. Kok learning to work stone had been a big part of that decision. Karg's chest expanded with pride. As he'd worked rocks Kok had also learned how to create fire. This time the cold, snow and hunger would not drive them away to death.

Using a walking stick for support Karg turned to continue up the steep slope. His sons followed moving through the bushes, trees and boulders with sinuous ease while keeping a careful watch for any danger. If the younger men were frustrated at the slow pace set by their father they didn't let it show. The wound Karg received in the Tusker fight two summers earlier had never healed properly and left him with a limp. They could tell it made traveling painful and difficult for their father.

The family reached a spot of bare rock not far from the saddle between two mountain peaks when a blast of cold wind hit them. Karg paused long enough to adjust his hides to keep the cold out. That was another problem of old age - he was always cold. Grunting with satisfaction he continued climbing. The tedium of the hike allowed his thoughts to wander.

He smiled as the memory of what happened when he and Kok returned to Home Cave after fighting the Tuskers came to mind. After Kok had dumped the bodies of seven Tuskers in the middle of Home Cave's main chamber Karg related the tale of how the animals had been killed and gutted. It took most of the night of telling and retelling to convince the Clan that Kok had done the killing. The next day, ignoring the snide comments of the doubtful, Karg had Kok teaching his other sons the secret of making stones sharp and of putting the stone club together. Soon his sons were bringing in the large furred animals that roamed the mountains and food was more plentiful.

Last summer another of his sons, Jakto, had used a stone Kok had worked but rejected to cut the hide from an animal. He found a way to cure the hide to prevent quick decomposition. Now the Clan had more food to eat and better hides for warmth and protection.

The smile left his lips as he continued upward. At first the Clan had been upset over the appearance of his children at birth. The Elders had wanted the babes killed but Karg had stood in front of his family and prevented anything from happening. "My sons are whole," he'd argued, "they have two arms and legs and can support themselves." But the Elders hadn't been convinced and persisted in their efforts to have the children killed. It wasn't until Karg had threatened to take his wives and children away from the Clan that the Elders relented. Karg's smile reappeared. The exploits of his sons through the years had vindicated his defiance.

Karg led his sons between two large boulders and up over the saddle onto the other side. They moved down the slope, slipping through gaps in clumps of bushes and rocks, weaving back and forth. Eventually he joined a path created by animals and followed it into a thicket of aspen trees. Moments later, the trees ended and Karg stopped. Kok and his brothers stepped to their father's side to see where Karg had brought them.

Spread out below the men was an alcove bordered on three sides by aspens and bushy cedar trees. A grassy meadow covered the ground from the trees to a large boulder near the cliff edge. At the end closest to the mountains was an area where water seeped to the surface turning the ground to mud. On the side not covered by trees was a view of the fabled Valley of Suns Karg had told his sons about.

Karg's sons moved out of the trees and walked through the long grass to reach the large boulder at the end of the alcove. There was no slope leading down into the valley from where they stood. A sheer cliff dropped straight down to the valley floor with a jumble of boulders at the bottom. The men stood on the edge of the drop off to examine the valley.

"Hey!" called Karg as he made his way across the meadow, "I'm cold! You can stare at the valley all you want when camp's set up."

"Cold," chuckled Kok as the brothers turned away from the view. "This must be what getting old's like."

"Less talking and more work," added Karg as he collapsed onto the grass next to the boulder.

Everyone laughed and set about their tasks. Jakto and Kaf moved to a spot on the edge of the meadow sheltered from the slight breeze by the trees and cleared away any branches, sticks and dried grass. Kok made a small pile of dried bark, grass and small twigs in the center of the space then reached into a leather pouch for two small rocks. He knelt down and began striking the two stones together. On the third strike a spark flew from the rocks onto the bark. Setting aside the rocks Kok knelt and gently blew on the glowing ember. Moments later a flame appeared and sticks were placed on the tinder to build the blaze. Kekko appeared out of the trees with an armload of dry wood which was added to the fire until it was large enough to ease the chill in the air. Smoke spiraled up until it disappeared above the tops of the trees where it was carried away by the wind. A pleasant aroma began to fill the alcove.

Karg enjoyed watching his sons set up camp. Old age and his injured leg had prevented him from making long journeys or going out on many hunting parties this past summer. In fact, if his wives had their way he'd be back in the Clan's cave right now. But their protests had been ignored. His sons had to see the Valley of Suns and he had to be the one to show them. No one else knew the way.

After his bones had warmed the old man used his walking stick to climb back to his feet and struggled over to the cliff edge. Once there he looked down into the valley. The once beautiful valley was rough and jagged; scorched and burned, for nothing grew there any more. He looked upon a blackened, barren desert fed by streams of ash and soot. Waterfalls still sent spray into the air creating rainbows which were the only beauty left. Glancing up at the surrounding mountains he saw that even the trees and bushes on those slopes looked sickly.

Turning back to the valley a movement in the distance caught his attention and he stared. Towards the far end of the valley, there was something he'd never seen before and it appeared to be moving. "Kaf!" he called. "Come here. You've the best sight in the family. Come tell me what your young eyes see."

His youngest son left what he was doing by the fire and walked over to stand beside Karg. The rest of the family followed. "Where is it?" Kaf asked.

Karg didn't reply but pointed out the strange objects.

Kaf stared into the valley for several minutes without moving or saying anything. The others leaned forward, careful not to fall over the cliff, peering at the objects while waiting for the young man to speak.

After a long wait Kaf finally spoke. "I see things like the small predators from the jungle. They're moving things and doing something to the ground. There appears to be a hole in the ground and they're putting something over it." He paused for a moment then continued. "They're getting into... it looks like small caves on the ground and..." He stopped and leaned forward like his brothers as if being a little closer would provide a better understanding of what he was seeing.

Karg and his other sons looked at Kaf then back into the valley still trying to peer into the distance to see what surprised their brother. They could see shapes moving but not much detail. "The caves are moving!" Kaf's eyes widened and Karg looked at him in surprise. "One is moving up! Into the sky! It's coming towards us like a bird!"

Karg looked back into the valley in time to see something rise off the ground then yelled one word. "Hide!"

His sons looked at him in surprise for a moment before their discipline took over. Karg was one of the oldest in the Clan because he knew when to fight and when to hide. The order was not repeated and everyone dashed to pick up their belongings and find suitable hiding places. Moments later only the smoldering fire and tracks in the thin layer of snow in the shade of trees was evidence that anyone or anything had ever been there.

Then a roar like the rushing of many waters could be heard and grew louder. Karg huddled near the trunk of a bushy tree and shivered when he remembered where and when he'd first heard that sound. It'd been years ago and then he'd thought it was a living creature. But Kaf had called it a cave. Could that mean those animals he had seen inside the bird had made the cave? Were they gods who could make the sun-on-the-ground and things that flew like birds?

Soon the strange bird - or cave, as Kaf had called it - was over their alcove and drove all thought away. Its noise deafened those on the ground while the wind it made whipped the branches of the trees and shrubs. Small particles of snow mingled with dust, leaves, sparks and ash from their fire whirled around getting into the eyes and hides of the hiding men. Although Karg had been the only one to endure this before, his sons remained in hiding.

The thing moved back and forth for a moment and then stopped over one bushy tree where two of Karg's sons were hidden. Karg thought he heard the sound of a thunderclap but he couldn't be sure. The noise made by the bird was too loud. It stayed over the tree for a moment longer as if expecting something to happen. When nothing did the bird left and headed over the mountains, away from the valley.

The roar had just faded when a cry came, "Jakto is hurt!"

"Wait!" came Karg's curt order. There was no response and no movement.

Although one of his sons was hurt Karg forced himself to patience. He had to make sure it was safe or more of his sons would be in danger. Finally when the sun had moved a little towards the west from the day's middle and the sound from the strange bird hadn't been heard for sometime he stirred. "It's safe now!" he called. "Help Jakto!"

The family erupted from under the various trees and bushes where they'd hidden and scurried over to where Jakto and Kok were emerging. Karg watched as Kok helped Jakto over to the still smoldering fire. Other sons gathered small sticks that had been scattered by the wind and added them to the fire to rebuild the blaze and keep their injured brother warm. Jakto lay down and Kok exposed the injury.

Blood could be seen coming from two spots in Jakto's right upper thigh as Kekko, the best healer of the Clan, examined the wounds. "Eat these berries, it'll stop the pain," he ordered and pulled the dried fruit from a leather pouch. Jakto took the berries as ordered, popped them into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. The effect was almost instantaneous and Jakto relaxed. When he was satisfied the pain had eased enough Kekko went back to work.

Seeing the wound and the reaction of his son to the berries Karg realized how much pain Jakto was in. Yet the man hadn't cried out or given the family away when he'd been hurt. Karg's heart swelled with pride. He smiled down at his injured son then at the others who were looking on. "God has made my sons are the smartest in the Clan!" he announced.

Kekko smiled. "Smart, yes. But it didn't take being smart to get stabbed by a sharp stick."

"It wasn't a stick," objected Kok.

Kekko made sure the leg was clean then took more items from his pouch and began to dress the wound. "If it wasn't a stick how'd he get hurt?" he asked without looking up from his work.

"Father's bird was over us and made a thunder," replied Kok. "Jakto grabbed his leg and started bleeding. It wasn't a stick! Besides sticks stick in. They don't go all the way through!"

Kekko nodded at the explanation, finished his work then looked at his family gathered around. "We've all heard father's stories and wondered how true they were. Now we know. That strange bird is very dangerous." He looked at Karg. "You recognized the danger years ago. You're as smart as we are."

Karg wasn't so sure. The first time he'd come across one of those things he'd thought it was a new animal; just another danger. Now, with Kaf's help, he'd just learned it wasn't an animal but a made-thing like the rock clubs, spears and knifes. The cave-in-the-air was dangerous as were the small jungle eaters that seemed to control it.

"I don't want Jakto walking," announced Kekko when he stood after tying off a piece of leather to hold the medicinal plants in place over the wound. "The leg will heal faster if it isn't used and I don't want the injury to get infected. We'll have to carry him back to the Clan."

"I knew he'd find some way to get out of work," said Kaf and gave his older brother a playful jab in the shoulder.

Kok organized the construction of a carrier. Two strong limbs were cut from a tree and stripped of smaller branches. Hides were tied to the limbs making a bed for the injured man to lie on while they traveled.

As they were lashing the hides to the limbs a blinding flash lit the valley. "No one look!" cried Karg shielding his eyes. There was no need for the warning. His sons had been busy helping Jakto and weren't looking into the valley. Everyone covered their faces and closed their eyes.

Heartbeats later, when they sensed the bright light was gone, the family opened their eyes and turned around to see the expected ball of yellow fire and black smoke begin to roll into the sky. A rumbling, louder and deeper than thunder, was felt through their feet and in their chests.

The sight awed Karg's sons as they watched the dirty, black ball roll ever higher. They hadn't believed their father when he described the small sun to them. He was making the story bigger they said. Now they knew better.

"Hold on!" yelled Karg and grabbed onto a large rock. "The wind comes next."

Karg's sons reacted. Some took refuge behind rocks, others held onto trees. Kekko grabbed a nearby tree and leaned over to protect Jakto.

The roaring became almost earsplitting, much louder than the bird, and then a blast of hot air struck. It whipped up small rocks and dirt as it rushed out of the valley. Branches thrashed about and some were stripped from their trunks. An instant later the wind rushed back from where it came. The sudden reversal caught Kok unprepared and he lost his grip on the tree he was using as anchor. The wind blew him out from under the tree and along the ground towards the cliff edge. He bounced off a boulder, scraping a shoulder, and slammed into another tree. His hands wrapped around a thick limb and held on until the wind stopped.

Kekko raised his head and shook the hair from his eyes. "That was fun," he commented then looked around at his brothers. "Is anyone hurt?"

After getting off the ground Kok replied, "I'm scratched and bruised but otherwise all right." The other brothers echoed their elder brother.

Karg turned away from the valley to look up at the surrounding mountains and gauged the suns position. "It's time to go," he announced. "We were only going to stay until you could see a sun-on-the-ground. And we need to get Jakto home. The hot, brown snow'll be falling soon." He gave Kekko a reassuring touch then stepped over to the cliff edge to peer into the valley. Kok and Kaf went to gather the family's belongings for the long walk home. The small fire was smothered and their weapons and food gathered.

A short time later the family left the sheltered cove. Kok and Kaf were dragging the carrier that Jakto was on while Kekko kept fussing over the wounded man's coverings. Before he turned to begin the painful walk home Karg took another look at the valley and the cloud. It would be his last because he planned no more return trips.

The black cloud was right where it'd always been when he left. His family would be in the next valley over when the hot snow arrived. Then his sons would know the power of the valley that was theirs.

Kok's cry brought him back to see that his sons had gone ahead and were already entering the aspens. With the strange bird known to be in the area it wasn't wise to be alone. Using his stick he hurried to join his sons.

# Chapter 4

M'Rod, the Chief Scientist commanding the L'Khast Nuclear Test Range, stalked around the conference room. Usually he enjoyed looking at the pictures which lined the four walls whenever he entered. They marked successful tests that he'd supervised. There was one night test that he was especially proud of and hung in the place of honor behind his perch at the head of the conference table. At the time it'd been the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated. But now the scientists' attention was elsewhere. His long tail swept back and forth slamming into perches, table legs, and walls as he moved around the room.

After two circuits around the table the scientist stopped, swung his long neck back to glare at G'Rof, the Chief Technician, who was sitting on a perch at one end of the conference table. As the Kthpok commander had moved around the room the tech was careful to keep his own tail tightly curled around the leg of his perch and out of his superior's way.

"I understand that this supposedly secure facility is under hostile observation and has been for quite some time," M'Rod stated. G'Rof gave a sharp confirming nod, careful to keep a submissive attitude.

"In fact, it began two years after I assumed command of this site and hasn't been reported to security in all that time." M'Rod glared at the tech. His lips thinned and his sharp, white teeth appeared. "We've had a security breath for over ten years!"

The Chief Tech sat rigid on his perch without any expression on his face. Only his tail betrayed his emotions as its tip gave spasmodic flicks. "My people knew time was of the essence in order to maintain the Range's security," he explained. "Scans didn't show anything and it would've been difficult to direct Security to the general area. Using their initiative my Kthpok wished the honor of catching the intruders."

"I see," mused M'Rod and bobbed his head on its long neck as he resumed his stalking. "In order to save time our driller packs went hunting." If G'Rof noticed the sarcasm in the scientist's voice he gave no indication. M'Rod nodded his understanding as he continued his path around the table. "It appears that duty here is too boring if our Kthpok are willing to neglect their main assignments to go hunting. I'll have to think about a way to prevent it from happening in the future." One of his hands gave a throwing away gesture. "We'll let the matter drop for now as I have another more pressing item I wish to discuss."

G'Rof's tail gave another twitch at the apparent change of subject and he eyed M'Rod with suspicion. He didn't know if this new item was going to be worse than the one just tabled.

The scientist indicated a report sitting on the conference table in front of the technician. "Since you mention time being critical I have to agree. That report shows we're behind in the testing of devices and one of the reasons for that is our Driller Packs have been leaving their assignments to hunt for intruders." He held up a hand to forestall G'Rof's protest before it could be voiced.

"I said 'one of the reasons'. There are others. Regardless of what caused the problem the fact remains that we're behind. And if we want to keep our tails that problem has to be resolved."

He came to the opposite end of the table from G'Rof and stopped. Placing both hands on its smooth surface he leaned forward. His long neck placed the end of his mussel so close to the technician he could smell the other Kthpok's anxiety. "In order to get us back on schedule I've decided to use members of the Security Pack for drillers."

That announcement caused the technician to forget his anxiety and brought him off his perch. His tail was rigid and extended talons scratched the smooth surface of the table as he also placed hands on the table. "You can't!" he protested. "Those Kthpok aren't trained in drilling procedures. They'll be more likely to incinerate everyone and everything in the surrounding area than in bringing the testing to schedule."

"Then why do your Kthpok insist on doing a job they're not trained to do?" thundered M'Rod and straightened. G'Rof drew his head back in surprise. "Of course Security can't do drilling and likewise your Kthpok need to understand that Drillers can not do Security!" The scientist continued as he stabbed an extended talon at the table. "Starting right now I expect your Kthpok to inform Security when they suspect the observers are there. They will drill, not hunt!"

G'Rof gave a curt, accepting bob of his head. There was no question the instructions would be carried out. After all, M'Rod, as commander of this test range, could have one's brain removed for scientific examination.

"Besides not going hunting the Driller Packs are to work extra shifts until this Range is back on schedule," M'Rod continued. "If this doesn't happen losing a tail will be the least of your worries." The Kthpok made no attempt to hide the threat in his voice. He leaned closer to G'Rof, his eyes narrowed. "Is that understood?"

A few hours after being dismissed from his interview with the Chief Scientist the Chief Technician had his Drilling and Technical Packs equipped with radios. Their instructions were to notify Security of any unusual sightings or suspicious activities. There would be no further attempts to catch the intruders themselves. It was stressed that any technician or driller who did not comply with the new procedures would be transferred to the Polar Research Site without adequate cold weather preparation and would stay there for the rest of their lives. Which would be very short.

Nine days after the Chief Scientist's ultimatum one of the technicians making the final preparations for a test left his work, walked over to a vehicle and picked up a radio. "Site prep to Security. Site prep to Security," he called.

"Security!" came the immediate response.

"Observers noted in the mountains of the northeast quadrant."

"Are you sure?" came the reply. "Our monitors aren't showing anything."

The tech's tail swept over and slammed into the vehicle, rocking it and placing a sizable dent in its side. He took a deep breath, stifling a sharp comment, and then spoke. "I've got eyes," he said. "The smoke from their fire can be seen for miles. It's on the small flat area above the valley at the far end. Why don't you put on your battery-powered underwear and step outside to see.

"If there's no response to this report Chief Technician G'Rof will be making an appointment with Chief Scientist M'Rod. Last I checked he was still commanding this facility - including you. I don't think he'll be pleased to learn Security isn't up to doing its job."

"Security out!"

The technician waited to see if Security needed more information but all he heard was static. With a hissing cackle he turned off his transmitter, placed it back in the vehicle and returned to work. "I wonder if Security'll have any more success at catching the intruders than we have?" he said to a pack mate as he rechecked his equipments calibration before resuming his work.

Mrek crouched by the small fire and held out his hands to warm himself. The deep snows and short days of the winter had gone but the weather was still chilling to the bone. He stood, adjusted his furs, and walked over to the cliff edge for another look into the valley.

Once away from the shelter of a small grove of sickly trees the stiff breeze coming up from the plain below ruffled his shaggy hair. He couldn't figure it out. Days ago he had overheard Kok telling his oldest son, Makok, about a special valley Karg-the-old had shown him many years ago; a valley with powers.

From the bushes where he'd been relieving himself Mrek had perked up when he caught that. Everyone in the Clan knew the descendants of Karg were different; smarter than everyone else in the Clan and that made them wealthy. Mrek wanted that wealth for himself and had decided to visit the place.

It hadn't been that difficult to locate but what he found wasn't what he expected. Instead of a peaceful, lush valley with warm, flowing streams he found a barren, rough, jagged valley with no vegetation and a few brackish streams. The rainbows in the spray of the waterfalls dropping from the cliffs were pretty but that was the only beauty. He shook his head. The instructions must have been misunderstood or he'd taken a wrong turn.

Mrek turned and walked back to his fire running over Kok's instructions in his mind trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. Setting his weapons down within easy reach he squatted and added a piece of wood to the fire. Then he extended his hands out to catch the warmth. He hadn't been staring at the fire for long, mesmerized by the flames, when something wormed its way into his thoughts. Mrek stood and cocked his head to listen. A moment later he left the fire to hurry over to the precipice and stared around the valley. The sound he could hear was getting louder. But he couldn't...there!

Coming out of the early morning shadows thrown by the surrounding mountains at the far end of the valley were two strange birds. Each seemed to be all body with no head, no arms, legs or wings. Were these the strange creatures his great-father said old Karg had warned the Clan about? The man ran back to his fire for his spears and hatchet then found a vantage spot under an overhanging rock. He wanted to see what these creatures would do without them seeing him.

A short time later Mrek relaxed when the two birds moved through a pass several peaks away. Those were the strangest birds he'd ever seen. They didn't soar with the wind, moving up and down, like other birds he'd seen. These flew straight and level and didn't have wings. He'd never seen birds without wings before. Maybe this was the valley that Kok had described after all.

He waited, peering out from his hiding place, wondering if anything else was going to happen. It didn't. After allowing enough time to pass to make sure it was safe he stepped out from under the overhang and made his way back to the fire. Maybe if he stayed a little longer something else would happen, something that would give him powers like Karg's family

H'Tal, the Chief of Security for the Nuclear Test Range stood behind the flight perches and watched the pilots work their controls. He looked through the Plexiglas of the front screen to gauge their position as the craft gained altitude. When they leveled out H'Tal leaned forward and pointed out the pass he wanted the Hoverer pilot to fly through. It was several peaks to the left of the suspected observer's position.

The Kthpok pilot who'd been on earlier attempts with the Driller Packs turned away from his controls. "But sir, if we don't head for the location of the observers they'll get away!"

"And that's worked before!" asked the security officer. His voice was as cold as the Polar Regions.

"No sir," replied G'Mot as he suppressed a nervous twitch of his tail and turned his attention back to flying his aircraft. "You wish the craft to pass two peaks left of the observers anticipated location," he repeated.

"Correct!" replied H'Tal. "Now proceed, I am going to rejoin my pack. You will notify me when we go through that pass and are over the valley beyond." He watched for several moments as the second pilot relayed the instructions to the other craft and the main pilot adjusted his controls. Satisfied his orders were being followed the Kthpok left for the passenger compartment where his command of ten Kthpok waited.

G'Mot glanced back and gave a small sigh after the hatch slid shut behind the Security Chief. That particular Kthpok had the reputation of ripping internal organs from subordinates who'd become the focus of his dislike. The pilot looked over at his companion pilot then turned back to his controls. This mission had started out with a bent tail and he didn't want to risk a second more disastrous encounter. It took the two aircraft almost forty minutes to reach the point specified by the Security Chief. "Where's the smoke?" H'Tal asked as he moved into the pilot's compartment after receiving the pilots call. When the thin, wispy line appearing over the ridge had been pointed out he grunted and pushed a button activating his helmet radio. "Monitoring, do you have any readings on the unfriendlies?"

There was a pause while a member of his pack in another compartment of the craft consulted his equipment. "None, sir!" was the reply through the speakers positioned in his helmet near the officer's hearing orifices.

The Security Chief lowered his head then reached up to scratch an itch on his long neck. This problem was intriguing. He'd like to get a look at what these 'observers' were using to escape detection by the most sophisticated equipment he had available. Then a thought came to him. Maybe the fire was a decoy and the quarry had fled.

His tail gave a rejecting twitch. Whoever it was shouldn't be aware they were being hunted. After all he'd sent out patrols using this same course before. That wouldn't worry the observers. Besides they ought to know they'd have ample time to hide. This type of aircraft created enough noise to be heard for miles.

The Security Chief hissed as a realization came causing G'Mot to jerk his controls at the sound. The aircraft jumped causing everyone on board to reach out for something to keep them in place. Shaking his head H'Tal berated himself. He'd deviated from the driller's method which might alert his quarry to be more cautious than normal. Well he could make allowances for that possibility.

Stretching out his neck H'Tal was able to look through the front Plexiglas. The valley below was dotted with bushy trees, shrubs and occasional open areas.

"What are your orders, sir?" asked the pilot. The Kthpok's voice held a slight tremor.

"Hold position for a moment," ordered H'Tal then pulled a map from a pouch and spread it on a perch next to him. The two aircraft came to a stop mid-air as a talon traced the path the craft had taken then tapped where the uninvited observers were expected to be. H'Tal looked closer at the map as a thought came and his tail began to twitch in anticipation.

"Have Two circle around to land in this side canyon. Its pack will disembark and wait for my signal," the Security Officer said and indicated the spot on the map. G'Mot arched his neck around and over to look as the other pilot controlled the craft. "That's the canyon designated as C-5 downrange," H'Tal continued. "One will land in the side canyon just ahead. Once the Ground Packs have been released both craft are to lift, meet, and fly over the suspected site of the intruder. The aircraft will conduct a sloppy search grid, reporting all items of interest to the Center Room, and then leave for the Landing Area. I'll call for pickup when finished hunting for the observers."

The pilot repeated his orders then passed the instructions to the other craft. As soon as the transmission ended the other craft veered off to follow the instructions.

"Two is complying," the pilot announced. "We'll rendezvous in fifteen minutes and conduct the search grid."

The Security Chief bobbed his head in approval then turned for the passenger compartment and his pack. It wouldn't do to be injured in the landing and miss the successful completion of his plans. The placement of the two ground packs would bracket the area where the intruders had been reported and that meant there would be no chance of his target slipping past his talons. Having the aircraft fly over the observation point should flush the hostiles from their hiding place and into his trap.

Mrek picked up a rock from the edge of the cliff and threw it into the barren valley below. He watched as it hit the ground far below in a puff of gray dust. The only excitement of the day had happened earlier with the two strange birds and they didn't even get close enough to throw a spear at. He shielded his eyes from the mid day sun with a hand and looked at the far end of the valley. In the distance he thought he could see something moving but it was too far away to pick out any details. Dropping his hand he shook the hair out of his eyes. This wasn't getting him anything. There was still time for him to do a little hunting on the way home so this excursion wouldn't be a complete failure.

He turned and started back to his fire when a sound caught his attention. He cocked his head and listened. It sounded like the strange birds he'd seen earlier and was getting louder. This time it was coming from behind the mountains.

Grabbing his spears and hatchet from where they'd been laying by the fire he glanced about for a place to hide. The valley wasn't an option because he couldn't get down the cliff and the thick tree groves of the mountainsides were too far away.

The sound was getting louder! Coming at him! Panting in terror, he dropped his weapons and dove for the nearest cedar tree just as the two strange birds erupted over the mountains.

Mrek crashed through the branches, grunting in pain as sharp sticks scraped the skin off his arms, and then he slammed into the ground losing more skin. The noise made by the birds was deafening. He scrambled on his hands and knees up to the trunk as a wind that came with the roar threw dirt mixed with bits of snow into the air. The leafy branches of the tree thrashed about cutting and scratching anything that was exposed. Howling in terror, Mrek curled into a ball, protecting his head with his arms. Flecks of snow covered his furs and hair while finding ways inside the hides chilling him. But it wasn't the cold he was worried about.

When nothing else happened but the wind and noise he calmed down, uncurled and sat with his back against the trunk. Squinting, Mrek looked up through the whipping branches and swirling dust clouds to see the two birds moving back and forth. From their flying it appeared they were looking for something and he guessed he was it. Then, after what seemed an eternity, the odd birds tired of the hunt and flew off.

As soon as the birds were far enough off that he was sure they couldn't see or catch him Mrek dashed from the tree. He paused long enough to collect his spears and hatchet then headed for Home Canyon at a dead run. Wonderful powers or not, he was never returning to this valley again.

It took just an instant to race up the small rise of the pass then plunge down the steep slope on the other side. With furs flying he darted around trees, leapt over rocks and slid down snowy patches. Rocks disturbed by his wild passage bounded down the slope ahead of him. There was no attempt at concealment or to cover his tracks. His only thoughts were of escape. By the time he reached the canyon floor Mrek's arms and legs were cut, and scratched and bruised.

Ducking inside the cover of a well branched tree some distance away from the nightmare valley Mrek paused to catch his breath. The pain of his injuries was ignored as he scanned the skies for the strange birds. But he couldn't hear the sound which had warned him the first time of their approach. Shaking his head he bent to take care of the deeper cuts on his legs and arms.

He'd just finished dressing an especially deep scratch on his right leg when a new sound brought him up short. He cocked his shaggy head to listen, to see if he could tell what it was. After the sounds were repeated he stopped looking at the sky. It wasn't the strange birds but there was something on the ground coming towards him.

Shifting the branches of his hiding place ever so carefully he sought for another refuge, one that had better defenses. A moment later he settled back against the rough bark of the trunk cursing under his breath. There were no caves or large cracks in rocks close enough for him to hide. In fact, this tree seemed to be the best sanctuary available.

That meant his safest option was to stay where he was then leave when whatever was making the noise had passed.

Sounds of movement echoed down the canyon and Mrek turned his head to gauge where it was coming from. All he could tell was that whatever made the noise was behind him and getting closer. It even sounded like there was more than one something coming.

Mrek reached out once again to move a branch just a hair and examined the way he'd come. At first all he saw were the nearby trees and shrubs. Then a low sound like the quiet roar of the long tooth cat was heard which was followed by a crackling boom. A tree not far from his hiding place exploded in a ball of flame and smoke.

He glanced up at the sky through the leaves. There'd been no lightning or thunder; there weren't even clouds. Another tree, closer to his, exploded into flame and Mrek began to tremble. Perspiration ran down his face despite the chill air. This canyon was as cursed as Kok's valley. Would his tree explode into flame?

Mrek's breath froze in his throat as a figure appeared out of the flame, smoke and sparks rising from the burning trees. It looked like a small eater from the warm jungles with a long neck and tail. The creature walked on two legs with its neck arced up ahead and tail stretched out behind to counterbalance. But this one was different. Its hide was slick and shiny, not the usual mottled brown.

The Eater used its short arms to point a shiny stick at another tree. There was a low moan as a streak of light came from the stick and struck the tree causing it to explode into flame just like the others.

Screaming in terror Mrek brushed aside the branches and erupted from his hiding place. He had to get away, to stop this nightmare.

An eerie warbling pierced the air and the crash of breaking branches behind him announced that he'd been seen. Mrek raced across the valley floor, weaving back and forth to avoid trees, jumping over rocks and small bushes. His chest heaved and his throat burned from running but he didn't slow. Shrubs and branches tore at his hide coat causing him to stagger but he'd regain his balance to race off again.

The strange warbling began to fade and hope grew in Mrek's heart. On his way to Karg's valley he'd found a huge cave with many strange rocks and tunnels. Since he hadn't wanted to carry his supplies all the way to the valley he'd left them there. If he could reach that cave he could hide in one of the dark side tunnels.

Slapping at the branches in front of him he crashed out of a small grove of trees and ran into a clearing. A smile crossed his lips as he put on a burst of speed. The sons and grandsons of Karg-the-old may be the smartest of the Clan but he was the fastest.

Mrek had just reached the middle of the grassy expanse when more figures of the small Eaters with the shiny hides emerged from the trees he was heading for. He cursed as he came to a halt on the grass. The cave he was making for was just past those trees, around a bend in the stream and up a side canyon. Perhaps if he was fast enough...

He shook his head. There were too many Eaters to dodge. He saw at least two hands of them. Turning he found still more Eaters coming through the trees following his path. There was no escape now, only death.

A snarl crossed his lips. The Clan might cry over his bones when they found them. But they'd find those bones surrounded by the bones of many Eaters. The song of his death would be used to teach future hunters of the Clan how to die.

Flinging aside his winter fur coat Mrek made sure his stone hatchet and knife were secure inside his leather belt, and then he stabbed the butt end of one spear into the ground, held the other ready and waited. The Eaters began to move forward from both directions, tails swinging from side to side. A warbling was heard as they closed. Answering cries returned from various places. When several of the creatures were within sure range Mrek moved. Running forward a few steps he threw the spear he held in his right hand.

The sudden attack caught the Eaters off guard and they watched as the spear, thrown hard and true, caught one of their companions in the throat and emerged on the other side. The Eater fell to the ground gagging and spitting blood.

Spinning, Mrek ran forward, grabbed his other spear from the ground and hurled it at another Eater approaching from the other direction. Although his enemy was more wary of his abilities and tried to dodge the spear took it in the chest. A satisfied smile spread across the man's lips. He'd hit smaller, faster game at farther distances. This Eater also fell to the ground kicking and shrieking.

With his spears gone Mrek pulled his knife and hatchet from their hide holders and prepared for the onslaught of the remaining Eaters. A high pitched shriek sounded and the eaters raced forward. Heartbeats later he was jumping, stabbing, shouting and hewing at the creatures as they tried to grab him. One Eater went down after losing an eye to his knife; another had an arm broken by his hatchet. He was splitting the skull of still another when he was hit from behind and thrown to the ground. His head hit a rock and as darkness closed around him he smiled. The Eaters might make of meal of him but at least he'd made them earn his meat.

# Chapter 5

Jakto stepped up on a tree that had fallen across the animal run they were following then paused for a moment to glance over his shoulder at his older brother. "Tell me again why you volunteered us to help search for Mrek. He's been making your life miserable for years." He dropped down onto the other side. "Besides the man's been missing for more than five days. We have to assume he's dead! This's a waste of time!"

"Waste of time or not we had to help." Kok replied as he moved up onto the tree behind his brother. "If one of our family was missing we'd want help finding them."

Jakto gave a snort. "That sounds very noble but what's the real reason?"

"Couldn't fool you, could I?" chuckled Kok as he followed Jakto off the tree then gestured at the surrounding canyon. "Take a look where we are and remember what's nearby. When the Elders talked about searching for Mrek I suggested that we could look in this area. I want to keep others away from the Valley of Suns as much as for their own safety as protecting our legacy."

The younger man wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded his understanding as the two men moved around a large boulder. The summer heat had arrived within the last two days after an unusually cold spring. They were used to the cold not the heat which explained the loin cloth and sweat glistening on their bare chests. Leather moccasins protected the men's callused feet from rocks and sticks. A soft cool breeze coming down the canyon washed over their perspiring bodies. "Oh, that feels good," groaned Jakto. "It seems like we skipped spring and went straight to high summer."

A shout interrupted their conversation and the two men ran over to find Makok standing on the banks of a stream. The young man had scouted ahead while the older men had been talking. "What?" Kok asked his oldest son. "What've you got?"

Makok pointed at the ground in front of him where an animal run crossed the water. There in the dried mud bordering the stream they'd have to cross were footprints. "I think this is what we're looking for."

Jakto clapped Makok on the back. "You thought right." Then he turned to Kaf and pointed at the marks in the ground. Over the years the youngest of Karg's sons had become the best tracker in the Clan. "Can you follow this?"

Kaf looked at the tracks and then in the direction they led. He gave a grunt and jumped across the stream.

"I think that means yes," laughed Kok and motioned everyone to follow.

Kaf led his family up the canyon towards Karg's Valley of Suns. They wove through groves of trees and walked around the occasional boulder that had fallen from the mountains tracking the footsteps thought to belong to Mrek. A short time later the footsteps took them up a side canyon and straight to a cavern.

With his spears and hatchet held ready Kaf followed the footsteps and led his family into the caves dark opening. Everyone paused just inside the entrance to let their eyes adjust to the dim light then walked deeper into the cavern. As Makok looked around he realized this cave was just as big as or even bigger than the one the Clan lived in. He saw the usual stone spears pointing up from the floor and jutting down from the ceiling. The only draw back was that the nearest water supply was half a day's walk away unless there was water deeper in the cavern.

"Kok, over here!" called Jakto catching everyone's attention. "I've found pouches."

The other brothers hurried over to see the small pile of leather pouches Jakto'd found. They were hidden in the shadows created by a large slab of rock that had fallen from the ceiling just inside the entrance. "Do you think they're Mrek's?" asked Jakto.

"Let's get them outside and see what's in them," suggested Kaf. "That should help us figure out who they belong to. The light's definitely better out there."

Everyone chuckled at Kaf's stating of the obvious as they looked to Kok who nodded. Hurrying over, each man grabbed a pouch and carried it out into the light. The pouches were piled in the bright sun just outside the entrance. "Well the bags look like ours," Kok commented. Then the brothers stood and watched as Makok squatted down, selected a pouch and opened it.

"Oh...," said Makok and recoiled. A hand went to shield his nose while the other waved the air in front of his face to get rid of the smell. "That's gone bad!" At a gesture from Jakto he stood and moved away.

Taking a deep breath of clean air Jakto bent down and dumped the contents of the other pouches onto the ground. Then he stood back, gasping. "Food," he said, "about enough for one man for several days and all spoiled. Everything looks like the food we brought."

"This must've been here for at least four or five days for it to've gone bad like this," observed Kaf.

"Do you think this's Mrek's?" Jakto repeated his earlier question.

Kaf shrugged his shoulders. "The time's about right," he said. "Who else could it be?"

Kok nodded. "Who else could it be," he repeated and gestured at the pile of rotting food. "This means Mrek came this way. So all we have to do now is find him."

He looked over at Kaf and gave another nod. "Let's go find him."

When they left the side canyon and rejoined the main canyon it became apparent the footprints continued in the direction of the Valley of Suns. As they paused for a brief rest the brothers glanced at each other and grimaced. Had Mrek found out about the Valley of Suns? Had he gone there when a sun was born and been struck blind?

After everyone had taken a drink from their water pouches Kok nodded to Kaf. "It's time we got going," he said. Without saying a word the younger man slipped on his pack and moved out. The rest of the family trailed behind keeping a careful watch on the mountainsides on either side.

At mid-day the five men reached the faint path leading up the rocky slope to their vantage point for the Valley of Suns. Kok sighed in relief when the footprints they were following continued up the canyon instead of climbing to the pass. If Mrek had made it to the valley he hadn't gone that way. Perhaps he hadn't gone there at all.

Bypassing their trail to the valley the brothers followed the footprints. Kaf remained in the lead with Kok and Jakto trailing just behind. Makok and Kekko were spread out on either side watching for any sign of danger. Everyone had their stone-tipped spears held ready as they moved through the trees. A sharpened stone axe was attached to the leather thong holding up each man's loin cloth. Their eyes kept scanning the area for any signs of Mrek.

"Dad!" Makok yelled from the right side of their formation. "Over here! I've found something weird."

"What could have caused this?" the young man asked when everyone had gathered around. Standing in the center of a relatively flat area he pointed at the ground then knelt to run a hand over the dry, brown grass which had been flattened in a long line. A tall man's length away was another matching line. "It's been pushed into the ground."

"There's something else over here!" called Kaf before anyone could come up with an explanation. Leaving the strange lines the men moved over to see what new thing Kaf has discovered.

"Oh, this is not good," groaned Kok as he stared at the tracks on the ground and Jakto nodded.

"What are the small jungle eaters doing here?" Jakto wondered. "I've only seen them in the warm forests."

"These tracks just appeared," added Kaf, gesturing around the area. "Usually there's a trail we can follow just like we're doing with Mrek. That isn't the case here.

"And from the trampling and amount of tracks there had to've been close to ten," Kaf continued. "So what do we do now?"

Kok looked at his brothers and son. "This's getting complicated," he said under his breath. Then more loudly he announced, "we'll keep looking for Mrek but we need to be very, very careful." Jakto and Kekko looked at each other and nodded.

They'd been walking for a short time when Kaf appeared out of the trees ahead and waved the family ahead. He'd been doing his job, scouting ahead watching for footprints. "I've found something that looks like dried blood," he announced. "There's also signs of a struggle." Kaf said as he led the brothers through the trees to his find. "I've found blood in three places and there's many Eater tracks."

"This is really not good," swore Kok as he walked over to look at a dark spot in the grass. "But there's not a lot we can do about it. We don't know what's happened here. Although I'm guessing the Eaters whose tracks we've found probably caught up with Mrek, then killed and ate him." He shrugged. "That's what I think but we have to be sure."

"There's not enough blood for that," replied Jakto.

"What's that?" wondered Kok.

"There isn't enough blood here to show that the Eaters have eaten something," Kaf replied for his older brother. "With this many Eaters there should be blood all over the place. There isn't. It's more like a wound."

Kok gave a little wave of a hand and started forward. "Wound or not, we still have to make sure about Mrek. Let's go but keep your weapons to hand."

The small group of men moved in and out of the trees that covered the valley floor then came to another small clearing. By this time a light breeze blew down the canyon and Jakto wrinkled his nose as he caught an odor. "Smell that?" he asked his family. "There's been a fire ahead."

The eldest of Karg's sons sniffed to test the air himself then nodded. "That's probably a good sign. This isn't the weather for wildfires because it's been so cold and wet for so long." Kok shrugged. "It had to've been set, probably by Mrek since no one else's been here."

Continuing across the clearing Kok followed Kaf around some trees, crossed an area covered with small rocks then pushed through a small clump of bushes. Another gust of wind carried a stronger stench of burned wood and brush. Moving around a bushy tree he came to an abrupt halt to avoid running into Kaf.

"How?" was all Jakto said as he stared at what lay before them. He'd come up to stand next to Kok. The trees of the area were large and bushy which made them perfect for hiding. But here and there were black circles and charred stumps where some had burned leaving the rest of the trees in the area untouched. A normal fire would have burned all the trees, not just a select few.

"Not just how but why," said Makok after coming from his position on the right wing to stand next to his father and uncle.

"I'm afraid the only person who can answer our questions is Mrek or whoever made the footsteps we've been following," said Kaf. He shrugged. "So if we want answers we've got to find who ever it is."

They continued past the scorched areas with their blackened stumps and up the canyon. Before going very far Kekko who was now on the right side of their little formation called out and pointed up at the mountainside. Looking in the direction his brother was pointing, Kok could see a line of loose rocks, slipped dirt and footsteps marking the mountain soil coming down the slope. He grimaced and looked over at Jakto. So Mrek had been to the Valley of Suns after all. But what had scared the man enough to drive him down the rocky slope with such wild abandon?

Still hoping to find answers the party followed the tracks made by a new group of Eaters Kaf had discovered. Finding evidence of a group of small Eaters from the Warm Jungle was one thing. But two groups were unheard of. Besides there was no point in following the path on the mountainside since it was apparent the marks were coming down the slope not going up. And the brothers already knew what was beyond that ridge.

They followed the tracks along a stream, past small waterfalls and around trees. Then their path took a sudden turn away from the main canyon to move up a winding side canyon. A short time later the party came across a small clearing and the tracks they'd been following disappeared.

"What happened?" demanded Jakto of Kaf. "Tracks don't end without a reason. There has to be rocks, trees or streams they could walk on or in, something to explain the ending." He swung his arms wide. "Where are they?" Kaf gave a sheepish look and shrugged his shoulders.

Since there was no explanation about where the Eaters came from Kok had Makok and the others scout around the area. Perhaps they could find a clue while he and Jakto examined the area where the tracks ended.

"What do you think?" Kok asked Jakto after the others had left.

Jakto crouched down and pointed around the area. "See those rocks? Something's pushed them into the ground and they're all lined up. It reminds me of those two lines pushed into the ground we found with the first group of Eater tracks just before coming across the blackened area."

Kok nodded his agreement as he ran his fingers over the indented ground. "Maybe it was one of those flying things from The Valley. The ones we saw were large and probably heavy enough to do this."

Jakto considered the suggestion for a moment. "It might be," he said, nodding his head. Then the nodding turned to shaking. "But the Eater tracks lead from here to the burn spots. That still doesn't answer our questions. It just adds more."

The two men rose to spend some time examining the area and discussing the problem. Moments later after not finding anything they left their search and were trying to locate the rest of their family when Makok appeared from around a bushy tree. "We've found more prints!" he exclaimed. "Man prints not Eaters!"

Jakto shot a questioning look at Kok who gave a shrug. "We haven't found anything here," the older brother said. "So we might as well take a look."

Makok led the two men further up the side canyon and ducked through an arch created from two boulders wedged together. Moving up the sandy, moist stream bed they came around a sharp turn to find the rest of the family waiting. Makok pointed. "The prints are over there and continue up this canyon," he said, sweeping his arm to indicate the direction.

The two brothers moved closer and looked. It was obvious the marks had been made by a person. "Is this Mrek?" Kok asked.

Kaf shrugged. "This isn't the same person we were following earlier in the main canyon," he replied. "This one's bigger, heavier."

"So who is this?"

The tracker shrugged again and Jakto looked up this small canyon. The unspoken answer was that the way to find out was to follow the tracks. So follow the tracks they did.

Kaf led them along the side canyon then up to a saddle between two high peaks. As the family moved further north the number of trees and bushes grew larger, the peaks higher and hillsides steeper. On occasion they found themselves walking along a cliff edge. When the sun was setting the footprints led them to an area with water nearby surrounded by trees that blocked the view of the sky. Kok called a halt for the night.

The next day after breaking camp the family climbed through another mountain pass then dropped down into another series of canyons which were unknown to Karg's family. That was unexpected because everyone in the search party was a hunter and had ranged far and wide in this region searching for food. Apparently they hadn't gone far enough.

As camp was being set up for the night after another day's walk Kok checked their supplies. Their search had taken them several days longer than he'd planned for and food was running low. That meant they'd have to hunt and forage before long which would make their search even longer.

A thought came to mind of one possible reason why Mrek hadn't returned: He'd gone too far and had gotten himself lost! But that didn't explain why the missing man hadn't simply backtracked until he reached familiar country. Mrek may have had a bloated opinion of himself but he was capable of backtracking his trail.

The next day brought a surprise. After breaking camp they'd continued up the canyon they were in. By mid-day they reached the point where a stream coming down the hillsides created a small pond behind a large boulder dam. The water edged around one side of the rock then disappeared into the sandy streambed. Trees, bushes and grasses grew in abundance shading the entire area. The men paused long enough to fill their water pouches and get a drink from the ice-cold pool. The surprise for the day wasn't the pool but the beaten path leading to it from the other side.

"Who made this?" asked Makok as he looked at the ground then glanced over at his father. "This isn't an animal run! Has anyone of the Clan been here?"

"Not that I know of," replied Kok. "But even if someone had they couldn't have been here enough times to make that." He gestured at the path.

"Many feet did that," confirmed Jakto.

"We go on then?" asked Makok. "We follow this path?"

Jakto, Kaf and Kekko all looked at Kok who nodded.

Kaf started off, still in the lead with the others behind in single file. There was no need for the young man to go ahead scouting the trail because they were following a path that was well worn. The new path led along the side of a large box valley where the sides of the canyon went from steep slopes covered with trees to red sandstone cliffs dotted with bushes and trees growing from cracks in the rocks.

Kaf led the way as along the path as it twisted and turned through groves of trees and thickets of bushes, taking advantage of all the available cover. When the sun was starting to touch the mountains on the west they found their trail plunged into a narrow side canyon from which a stream issued. The entrance was a cut in the cliffs just wide enough for two men to enter side by side.

"Smoke," cried out Kaf and stopped just short of the cut in the cliff-wall. The rest of the party stopped to test the air themselves.

Kok took a deep breath and nodded. There it was. A slight breeze coming down the slot canyon carried the scent of smoke. It wasn't the odor of wild fires caused by storms but a... campfire! He gave a low whistle to catch his people's attention and a wave brought everyone in close. "There may be more than the usual dangers so we've got to be very careful," he said. "Don't let your guard down." After getting nods of understanding and agreement Kok headed for the cut in the cliff with his spear ready.

The slot canyon was so narrow that the stream covered the entire canyon floor. The water was cold and Kok was glad it was only ankle deep at its deepest. He looked up and saw the sandstone walls were sheer, several men tall and allowed only the occasional sunbeam to reach the stream even with the sun at mid-day.

With his brothers and son following behind he splashed up the canyon. From time to time they would come to a small, shallow pool to wade or a jumble of rocks the stream splashed down. They were very careful as they moved up the rocks to avoid slipping on the moss growing in the water. This far from home a broken leg would have been a death sentence. The canyon they were in twisted and turned, narrowed and widened.

On occasion they'd come to a sandbar with footprints that showed they hadn't lost the trail they'd been following. The footprints and smell of smoke led them forward. As the late afternoon sun began to redden the upper canyon walls Kok called a halt.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Makok and nodded in the direction they'd been walking. "Our path hasn't. And it isn't safe to camp in a canyon this narrow."

Ahead they could see the narrow canyon they were in was coming to an end but a path worn in the rock led up the sloping cliff and through a sharp cut in the canyon wall from which the small stream issued. The water rushed and burbled down the rock face then moved past the men.

"We're not stopping to camp," said Jakto. "Your dad's guessing we're nearing our destination, where ever that is, and wants to be ready."

The oldest son of Karg nodded to show Jakto was right and ordered a rest. After eating the last of their food Kok decided his family was ready. Besides if they waited too long they would be spending the night in the slot canyon - dangerous or not.

Careful not to knock rocks down onto those who came behind Kok used one hand for balance as he moved up the slope. He followed the path worn in the rock as it climbed back and forth in short legs between the cliff and stream. A few moments later he edged up to the lip of the canyon and saw a small barrier of logs had been erected over the gap in the canyon wall. A hole between the bottom log and ground was large enough to let the stream cascade through.

What've you found?" asked Jakto as he came up behind his older brother.

Kok didn't say anything but moved slightly to one side so Jakto could see around his older brother. A low whistle was heard as the man realized the logs had been set in place purposely not washed there.

"Keep everyone here until I've checked out what's on the other side," Kok instructed.

After getting an acknowledging grunt the eldest of Karg's sons shrugged off his pack and handed it to Jakto who passed it down the line of men. Turning, Kok moved up to the barrier and climbed just enough to see over the logs. A glance around revealed trees, bushes, and the little stream that led up to the barrier. Birds sounded in nearby trees but there weren't any animals in sight. Reaching for a hand hold he pulled himself up then climbed over the barrier.

Keeping his spear ready Kok moved away from the log barrier and into the surrounding trees to scout. Moments later he returned and softly called, "It's clear. Come on up." Then he stepped off to one side to keep watch. Nothing would threaten his brothers and son while they climbed over the logs if he could help it.

While he'd scouted the area he realized they were in a large valley surrounded with cliffs. From what he'd seen the only entrance to this place was the gap he'd just climbed through. Perhaps another way would be found as they had a chance to explore.

Jakto was the first of the brothers to appear over the log barrier. His eyes lit up when he saw the valley. He gave another low whistle then looked down at his brothers. "You've got to see this," he called.

"Then hurry up!" Kekko's voice coming from behind Jakto reflected his aggravation. "You're the one blocking the way."

Jakto chuckled as he climbed over the logs then moved to stand next to Kok. While the rest of the family climbed over the barrier and left the slot canyon Kok continued to look around to familiarize himself with the surroundings. The lush grass underfoot provided a soft cushion while tall, slender aspen trees mingled with firs to create a protective canopy overhead blocking the darkening sky from view. This much cover was something he wasn't used to. Of course he knew that the amount and size of plants in an area indicated the presence of water. But his experience had the plants in narrow strips along valley floors. Not like this. There was grass, bushes and trees everywhere. It was beautiful!

"What is this place?" asked Makok in awed tones.

The sound of his son's voice brought Kok's attention away from the paradise. "I don't know but we're going to find out."

"Is Mrek here?"

Kok turned to look at his son. "No, Mrek isn't here," he replied and pointed at a line worn in the long grass. It went from the entrance and disappeared into the trees. "That path and the worn rock we climbed up means there are many more people here than just a missing hunter. And have been for quite a long time."

As the men followed the path the sun disappeared behind the western cliffs. They wandered through the trees and the brothers looked about in wonder at all the greenery. Kok shook his head in wonder. "This must be the home of God," he muttered.

"It's beautiful," added Kekko echoing Kok's earlier thoughts.

Towards the middle of the valley the trees and bushes straggled to an end opening onto a lush meadow of knee high grass. Kok held up a hand to stop his family while still in the trees. Above them stars began to appear in the darkening eastern sky. In the failing light the men saw a lush green meadow surrounding a large lake. The small stream they'd been following wandered from the lake, across the meadow towards them.

"How have we missed this place?" asked Jakto. "Look," he said pointing, "there's plenty of water, wood for fires, and food."

"You've got to get in to find it," said Kaf and poked a thumb back the way they'd come. "That slot canyon doesn't attract anyone's attention and it's the only way in. The cliffs don't have any other passes that I can see." It was readily apparent that the valley was ringed by a circle of rugged sheer cliffs.

Jakto gave a low whistle. "There's no climbing those rocks."

"Look!" cried Kekko, "there's the smoke we've smelled." A short distance from the lake was a cluster of...things. Piles of sticks and grass. Smoke issuing from several of those piles was blown by a gentle wind towards the forest where they stood.

"There's something moving down there," announced Makok. "They're not from the warm jungles. They're..."

"People!" interrupted Kok.

# Chapter 6

The sun was just disappearing behind the Circle Cliffs when Akhim decided it was time to head for home. He checked the garden where he'd been working one last time for anything wrong. It wouldn't do to lose their crops this early in the growing season because of his stupidity. The carrots and beets had just sprouted and in another week or so the squash and corn should appear.

Many winters ago and in another canyon far away his people, the Tribe, had been starving. The seeds they'd planted in the old canyon hadn't been growing well and the stream was drying up. Even the herd of animals they'd worked so hard to catch and tame had almost disappeared down the gullets of predators. Only thirty beasts had remained out of almost one hundred. All of which meant they were facing a very hard winter. Then one day a hunter had returned from the hunt with no meat and a tale of finding a valley of wonders. His excited proposal was that the Tribe move to the new valley.

At first it'd been unthinkable for the Tribe to even consider leaving their home with the growing season coming to an end. But the hunter's tale was so appealing and their crops so poor that the Elders had decided to leave anyway.

The journey from the old canyon to their new home had been hard and took weeks. During the trek most of the very old and very young had died from exposure, malnutrition, falling off cliffs or down mountainsides, or were eaten by predators. Even with hunters staying awake at night as guards people or herd animals would disappear into the darkness. Then came the joyous day when the Tribe reached the slot canyon leading to Circle Cliff Valley.

Although they were exhausted and it was mid-day there had been no hesitation from the people of the Tribe. Everyone but the herdsmen had moved through the canyon entrance and went on to the valley to begin their settlement. Those who remained behind kept the herd animals safe and waited one day to let the Tribe reach their new home and clear the canyon. Then they'd moved the animals towards the entrance of the slot canyon.

At first the animals were fearful of entering the narrow canyon but the poking of sharp sticks, thrown rocks and shouts of the herdsmen drove them in. According to the man who'd found the valley there were no side canyons so all the herdsmen remained in the rear to keep the animals moving. The going was relatively easy for the herd, even going up the few rock waterfalls they came across, until they reached the end of the canyon.

None of the animals would even try to clamber up the final slope. They'd milled around bawling in confusion. Even with the vigorous prodding with sticks none of the animals would even start up that slope. One or two attempted to turn around and bolt back down the canyon but men blocked their way, yelling at the top of their voices and waving their arms to force them back to the main herd.

At last, the herdsmen had stopped trying to force the animals to climb the slope and came up with another idea. With the help of the rest of the Tribe the herdsmen covered the heads of each animal with a leather bag then several men pushed the beast up the slope. Even with the depleted herd it'd taken well into the night to get all the animals into the new valley.

In a way having to go to all that effort and trouble was good. It meant their herd wouldn't wander back down the narrow canyon and escape. But the herdsmen hadn't wanted to chance it and blocked the canyon slot anyway.

Once in the new valley the Tribe found that the discoverers description hadn't covered all the wonders to be found. Over the next few weeks the Tribe had wandered around the valley exploring its beauty. They'd learned how to make huts of grass and wood to keep the snow, rain and winds out. There was plenty of wood from the surrounding forest to feed the fires for cooking and warmth. But the hardships the Tribe had to endure weren't over. The winter was coming and their food supply was meager.

When their first winter in the valley had ended more of the Tribe had died. Even the hardiest and strongest of the hunters were thin and sickly. But the Tribe had survived.

As soon as the ground thawed in the spring the surviving Elder had the Planters working the soil. The seeds they'd planted grew faster and provided more food than the Elders could remember. Later that summer they also learned how to take the seeds from the long grass found in the valley to make bread. The herd grew fat on the feed from the valley and gave more milk than ever before. But the herd was so small that only calves and the newborns of the Tribe were given milk. When the summer ended the Tribe'd prospered and stored enough food to carry them through the next winter.

The Tribe had gained more than food from Circle Valley. They'd discovered some mud which could be shaped and baked in hot fires making vessels to store water and food. There was another plant that grew at the foot of the cliffs that had long fibers. The fibers could be woven together to make cloth. But there was more. Those same fibers could also produce soothing tones when stretched tight between sticks and plucked.

Akhim shook himself and brought his thoughts back to the present. Life had become much easier over the ten winters they'd been in Circle Valley proving the decision to leave the old canyon was right. He gave a contented sigh and turned to leave the garden. A cool breeze rustled his long brown hair that was pulled back and tied into a pony tail. He adjusted his cloth tunic to keep the wind out and increased his pace. His wife and children waited with supper.

At the edge of the village he paused long enough to stretch tired muscles then looked down the valley for his favorite view of the day. In panorama view were the sunlit cliffs giving way to the forest below that lay in shadow. A smile started too grown on his face then froze when he saw what was coming out of the trees. Akhim shook his head and looked again.

Breaking into a run, he raced through the village, ignoring people who called out to him. Akhim came to his hut and rapped on the outer wood frame. "Mik!" he called to his wife still breathing hard. "There are... people coming!"

"What? Who's coming? Why would they come here?" called Mik from inside the hut. "They have as much food as we have, a hut just as strong."

"No Mik," he replied catching his breath. "These people aren't our people. They're different, not from the Tribe."

Mik poked her head through the huts doorway, brushing aside the long cloth hung there for privacy. "People not of the Tribe?" she asked in awe.

Akhim's oldest son only three winters old dashed through the doorway and latched onto his father's knees. "Me see! Me see!" Aktil clamored as he looked up at his father. He was clad like his father in a cloth tunic and shoes.

Mik and Akhim gave a little chuckle and smiled at each other. This son was full of delights. "Come with me then, little Til," said Akhim. He picked up his son and set him on his shoulders where he couldn't get away. "We'll go see the new people."

"Me see! Me see!" squealed the child once more and grabbed his father's hair.

The parents laughed again. "Til and I will greet the new people and take them to the Council Hut," Akhim announced. "Mik, you and our daughters, take food there. These people might be hungry. You'd better tell the Elders as well. They'll want to meet these people."

Mik nodded and ducked inside. Almost immediately after the door cloth erupted and his oldest daughter raced off to tell the Elders. She was almost ten and it appeared she'd been eavesdropping on her parent's conversation.

Akhim gave another chuckle as he watched the long blonde hair lashing back and forth behind his daughter as she ran through the village. Then resettling his young son on his shoulders, he removed the small hands from his hair and took the trail to meet the new people.

The first meeting between the Clan and the Tribe took place in the meadows of Circle Cliff Valley as stars began to appear in the sky. One unarmed man with a small child on his shoulders approached an armed hunting party of five men.

It was apparent to the hunters of the Clan that the approaching person presented no danger. No father would put his young son in jeopardy. In turn Akhim felt no threat as the hunting party kept their weapons hanging on their leather thongs or were pointed at the ground. For everyone involved it was inconceivable that people would want to hurt each other. There were far too many dangers and people were too valuable to waste by fighting each other.

When the two groups of people came to within a mans length of each other they stopped and stared at each other trying to decide what to do next. Only the sound of crickets and the breeze moving through the long grass was heard. Then Aktil squirmed and squealed until Akhim had to take him off his shoulders and put him on the ground. That very action broke the stillness. The new men turned to talk among themselves and Akhim leaned forward to listen. But the instant his father's attention was back on the strangers Aktil broke away and wrapped his arms around the lead stranger's knees.

"Aktil!" exclaimed Akhim in horror and pointed at the ground by his side. "Get back here right now!"

The stranger smiled at Akhim. He handed his spears to a companion then bent to pick up the child. Aktil didn't seem to mind being held by the stranger. He just wrapped his arms around the man's neck and just melted into the stranger's chest. The man grinned through a scraggly beard, gave the child a quick hug then handed the boy back to his father.

"Thank you," said Akhim, taking his son and smiling back. "He's young and has much to learn."

The stranger seemed to understand, shrugged and replied but the words were unrecognizable to Akhim. He tried several more times then gave up with another shrug when it became apparent they couldn't understand each other.

"Shards!" cursed Akhim, ignoring his sons shocked look at his father's tone of voice. "Why can't we understand each other?"

Little Til pointed back over his fathers shoulder towards the village. "'ome."

"In a while, son," Akhim said, "we've got something we have to do first. We have to take care of the new people."

"'ome," squealed Aktil again and began to rock back and forth in his fathers arms to emphasize his desire.

"Ok Til!" said Akhim and gave his son a quick hug. "We'll take the strangers back to the village." Then he set the boy back on the ground. Still holding Til's hand so he couldn't run off Akhim used gestures to indicate to the strangers for them to follow.

Akhim had been able to learn the names of the people from the Clan by the time they reached the village. It was apparent that Mik and their daughters had succeeded in passing the word of the new people's arrival. Villagers lined the path to the Council Hut and stared at the strange men in their midst. As the small group passed through the cluster of huts people followed to see what was going to happen. Some of the braver members of the Tribe reached out to feel the furs worn by the hunting party. Leading the way through the village Akhim overheard muttered questions about how these new people got hides with the fur intact. At first he was concerned that his guests would feel threatened by all the attention but it appeared the men were just as puzzled about the cloth the Tribe used.

At the Council Hut Akhim and the men from the Clan had to push through the crowd to reach the entrance. Although the hut was the largest structure in the village it hadn't been built to house everyone in the Tribe which meant that many had to peer in through the entrance and the few windows. There was a fire in the middle of the single large room to help provide light and take the chill out of the air. Smoke rose from the flames to escape through a hole cut in the middle of the roof.

Akhim led the men from the Clan into the center of the hut and stopped next to the fire. He bobbed his respects to the Elders who sat at the other end of the hut as Kok moved up next to him. The rest of Kok's family made a rough arc behind the two men. Stepping off to one side so the Elders could see who was being introduced Akhim announced who his guests were. Each man bobbed his shaggy head when his name was given. The Elders did the same as Akhim gave their names.

When Akhim finished relating how he discovered and met the new people he stepped back. The Eldest nodded his approval of the report. With a wave of a wrinkled, gnarled hand two younger men rushed forward to help the old man to his feet. They hovered close by as he hobbled around the fire to stare at the strangers. Kok and his family remained silent as the Elder fingered their hides and weapons.

Another attempt was made to communicate but it soon became obvious that the two parties didn't understand each other. At last they discovered that pantomime was the only way that worked reasonably well. But no one was very adept which made the process of getting and giving information tedious. By this time the moon had appeared above the cliffs and bathed the valley in a pale light. A cool breeze swept over the village and rippled the waters of the central lake. Bored, cold and tired most of those outside left for the comfort and warmth of their own huts.

When the fire in the center of the floor burned low and it was close to midnight the Elders struggled to their feet. "Akhim!" called Merkin, the Eldest of the Elders. Akhim, who'd risen when the Elders did, gave an acknowledging nod. "Akhim," Merkin repeated, "go through the village and collect blankets and more food for our guests. Put wood on the fire. Our friends of the Clan can sleep here in the Council Hut."

The next few days went by in a whirlwind. Akhim, as the finder of the men from the Clan, was appointed their guardian and guide by the Elders. He took his charges on a tour of the village, the garden and the herd. They were also shown the looms that wove the Tribes clothing. In return Kok and his brothers showed their skill in fashioning stone-tipped spears and hatchets. They also tried to explain how to skin hides from animals and cure them to make blankets and coats.

At last the day came for Kok and his family to return home. They'd been gone for so long they knew their families would be worried. Their original mission to find a missing hunter had been forgotten in the excitement of discovering a new people. They wouldn't return with Mrek but they'd go with news of the Tribe.

On the morning Kok and his family was to set out for home they met on the commons outside the Council Hut. The entire tribe was standing in a crowd chattering with excitement with a small space left around the men of the Clan. Squealing children were chasing each other, dodging around the legs of adults. Their parents called, trying in vain, to get them to stop. At last Merkin shuffled forward to stand in front of Kok and held up a wrinkled hand. Moments later the volume of shouting, talking and giggles dropped enough to let the Elder speak

"My people," croaked Merkin, "we have experienced a momentous time. Because men from the Clan have found us we know we are not alone." A cheer from the crowd interrupted Merkin's speech for a moment. At a gesture from the Elder several people moved out of the crowd carrying bundles of cloth and pots. A slight breeze ruffled through the hair of the crowd and moved their clothing.

"As you go you will bear gifts from the Tribe to the Clan," announced Merkin. "You take pots containing seeds and bulbs for food plants. There are also bundles of cloth for your use." The bundles and pots were handed to Makok, Kekko and Kaf.

Although he didn't understand everything that'd been said Kok got the gist of the Elders message and he'd come prepared. Even though he knew the Tribe wouldn't understand all his words he stepped forward. "Thank you Elder Merkin," replied Kok in a loud ringing voice. "Your gifts are much appreciated and, I'm sure, will create quite a sensation at home. In return for your hospitality we have these for the Tribe." He nodded to Jakto and his brother moved forward to hand a bundle of hides, spears and hatchets to Akhim. "May the Tribe always prosper," concluded Kok.

The return of the hunting party at Home Canyon did create quite a stir. People had stared then cheered when Kok and his brothers appeared. They'd been gone so long people had begun to think they were dead. When everyone had gathered in Home Cave Kok began to tell what they'd found. The Elders of the Clan had never heard of any other people and were skeptical as the hunters told their story. But when Kok had his brother's display the pots and cloth they'd brought with them the Elders were astounded. Then Kok opened a pot and displayed the seeds within. The Clan listened in silence as Kok explained how the seeds and bulbs were used to produce more food.

Although the Clan tried to plant the seeds and make pots and weave cloth their initial efforts failed. The ground in their canyon wasn't suitable for growing or right for making pots. In Circle Cliff village the Tribes attempts to chip spear points and axe heads also failed. They couldn't locate the right rocks that would chip properly. Out of necessity trade sprang up between the two peoples and a trading language developed.

# Chapter 7

Makok, son of Kok, son of Karg, walked along the eastern trail leading to Home Canyon. He followed the well worn path as it wound through the trees and rocks which dotted the bottom of the side canyon. There were birds rustling in the branches that arched overhead making a cheerful racket. Behind him were men talking and laughing which added to the din. Everyone was excited to be returning home.

Taking a deep breath he could pick out the familiar smell of bushes and water and dirt that meant home. It had been fifteen days since his trading party of six men had left Home Cave for Circle Cliffs. While the hospitality of their trading partners couldn't be faulted he was looking forward to seeing his family once again and sleeping in his own hut.

A sound that didn't belong with the chirping and talking made it through all the noise and caught his attention. Stopping underneath a large tree, he held up a hand to halt the small group of men who were with him. The pots banging, spears jostling, feet slapping, and men talking ended as the men bunched up.

"What's going on?" asked Terlon who'd stopped just behind Makok. "We're almost home!"

"Quiet!" hissed Makok. "Listen." The rest of the party obeyed. Some even held their breath to cut down on the background noised as they listened. After a few heartbeats of silence the sound came again. It was still faint but it seemed to be growing louder.

"What is that?" whispered Hert.

"I'm not sure," replied Makok. "I've never heard this before. That's what caught my attention in the first place."

He'd never heard the sound before, that was true, but he thought he could make a good guess at what made it. Years earlier his father, Kok, had told him of a visit to the Valley of Suns and the families experience with the thing-in-the-air. Kok had even imitated the sound so his son would know what to recognize. That imitation was similar to the sound he was hearing now.

"How did you hear that?" wondered Terlon. "It's so quiet."

"It's different," Makok replied. "That's what caught my attention."

"Come on!" he said to his men and waved them forward. "The sound seems to be coming from the direction of home. Around this ridge and on a spur overlooking our village is a clump of trees. That'll be good cover. We'll stop there and see if we can find out what makes that noise." He looked at each man of the trading party as he added. "And be quiet!"

After getting a silent acknowledgement from his men the son of Kok turned and moved down the path at a trot. The rest of the party followed. Hands cradled pots of seeds and grasped spears to keep any noise they made to a minimum. A thin cloud of dust was thrown into the air from the feet of the trading party pounding against the beaten path as they ran for home. When they reached the end of the side canyon they left the trees, splashed through the streambed in the valley bottom and entered the main canyon of Home Cave.

"Come on, hurry!" Makok called, waving his men forward. Then he put on a burst of speed, crossed a small open space and arrived at the grove of trees that overlooked his home well ahead of anyone else. Setting his pack and load of goods in a clump of bushes where they'd be out of the way, he moved through the grove to peer at the valley.

Further down the valley he could see the small stream which ran the length of the canyon from Home Cave. It passed between the new gardens the Tribe had helped the Clan grow. There were also two hands of stick and hide huts on flat ground a short distance from the cave. Makok scanned the area but couldn't see anyone coming from the huts, the cave or working in the gardens.

"Where is everyone?" gasped Hert as he came up behind Makok. "It's just past mid-day. Someone should be in the gardens or working the looms."

"Look!" cried Terlon an instant later as the sound they'd been hearing suddenly grew louder. He pointed through the trees at the mountains behind them. "Something's coming!" Heads turned to see three objects appear between mountains peaks.

"Get under cover!" called Makok and dove into a large clump of bushes. The rest of the men followed suit an instant later.

Everyone in the trading party made sure they were well hidden inside the grove of trees and bushes as three things crossed the mountains and moved down into the canyon. Yes, nodded Makok as the creatures came closer; these things matched his father's description. There was a body with a straight tail, no head, arms or legs, or wings; they flew straight and were very noisy.

The three objects flew through the canyon towards the Clan's huts. One traveled down the middle of the canyon following the stream while the other two were in formation on either side higher in the sky.

When one of the things flew over the grove trees where the trading party was hiding a sudden blast of wind threw dust in the air and thrashed the trees like a hard summer storm. Cries of fear and rage from the other men were drowned out by the thing's noise.

Makok had expected the wind and noise because of what his father had told him. Although he'd been warned and thought he was ready he still wasn't prepared for its reality. The dust got into his nose and mouth choking him and forced his eyes shut. He used his arms to shield his head from the whipping branches. Heartbeats later the wind stopped as the thing continued on towards the village.

A light breeze coming up the canyon towards the village cleared the dust away from the trees. When he could see again Makok realized that one of the things was missing. But there was another large dust cloud just outside the cluster of huts. The other two things hovered, high in the air, over the Clan's huts. Emerging from the dust were figures; creatures he'd never seen before but could recognize from more of his father's tales. They were predators from the warm jungles of the lowlands and he wondered why they were here?

Moments later the dust cleared enough to let Makok see the missing thing was on the ground between the huts and gardens. He saw no sign of wings but there were two thin arms above the body that sagged down as they moved in a slow circle. A group of Eaters spread out in front and in back of the landed thing as if protecting it. The other two objects landed next to the first throwing up more dust and still more Eaters emerged.

"What are they doing?" whispered Terlon as he looked over Makok's shoulder.

Makok motioned the man to silence and watched as one group of Eaters, under the careful eyes of other Eaters with shiny sticks, walked down to the gardens. He stared in surprise as several of the creatures reached down and yanked plants from the ground.

"Eaters don't like plants, do they?" asked Terlon then turned to look at Makok.

"Not that I know," replied Makok and watched as the plants were stored in bags made of strange hides. That was odd, he thought. The Eaters weren't taking everything but were pulling plants from various parts of the garden. It was almost like they were taking examples of what was in the garden.

Another group of beasts left the Things that had brought them and moved into the village. Makok noticed that several of them also carried the shiny sticks like weapons while the others carried bags. The creatures with the bags peered at the looms and pots taking samples of these as well. Those with the shiny sticks stood guard. "Why aren't they going into the huts?" he muttered.

"How would I know," replied Terlon only to be hissed at.

Careful not to disturb the branches of his hiding place Makok watched as the Eaters returned to the three Things with their samples. A final group went back through the village and garden. But those Eaters didn't take anything; they left something that looked like rocks. Makok stood a little taller and strained to see what the objects were but he was too far away to get a really good look.

The thin straight arms above the Things began moving as the remaining Eaters scrambled inside. Then, with a growing roar and plume of dust, the Things left the ground to head back over the mountains.

That was strange, thought Makok as he settled back on his haunches to think. "Why did the Eaters take plants and goods? That isn't their usual prey," he wondered aloud then looked back at the village. What were the objects they'd left behind? He shrugged his shoulders to reflect his bewilderment.

"Those things are gone," he called to his men after the objects had disappeared over the western mountains. Everyone groaned at him for stating the obvious. "Gather your packs," Makok said as he ignored the snide comments about his intelligence. "Let's go home." Walking back to where he'd dropped his pack he checked to make sure everything was intact. Still laughing the others followed suit.

Shouldering his gear he looked back through the trees to the village. By now people were appearing from the cave and huts where they'd taken refuge. Several people had found some of the objects which had been left behind and called attention to them. A crowd was gathering to look at the strange objects.

The trading party had just left the shelter of the trees when white clouds appeared in the village followed an instant later by small claps of thunder. Others appeared in the gardens. Makok held up a hand to stop his party once again and watched the village. Those people crowding around the objects had fallen over. Others turned to run but only took a few steps before they fell. Most of the Clan coming from the cave were far enough away from the clouds to return to the safety of their refuge.

"What was that?" asked Hert.

Makok shook his head while staring at the village. The clouds that had appeared were slowly lifting and blowing away making it easier to see the bodies on the ground. "I don't know what happened," he replied. "It seems that clouds came out of the ground to hurt people."

"So what do we do?" asked Terlon as he moved up next to Makok and put a hand on his axe.

Makok glanced over his shoulder at his men. "I have a cardinal rule that's kept me alive for many years: When you don't know, hide!"

"Hide!" Hert said and a sneer crossed his lips. "The great Makok hide? We need to protect the Clan from all dangers!"

"Protect them from what?" asked Makok and gestured with his spear at the village. "Against clouds and thunder? You can go on in if you want but I'll wait until I know what I'm going to fight."

The man went to argue but was stopped by a shout. There was someone who'd hidden in boulders where the hillside met the valley floor. He'd been there when the flying objects and Eaters had come. Since he was closer to the village than Makok's party he announced that he'd go see what had happened to their people. Makok couldn't tell who the brave man was but waved his understanding and retreated to the grove of trees. The rest of his party, including Hert, followed. Once again they placed their packs and trade goods out of the way and then settled down to wait.

Makok watched as the man left the rocks where he'd been hiding and advanced towards the huts, spear held ready. Everyone in Makok's party scanned the area looking for anything dangerous but there wasn't anything in sight. The man was almost to the village when he dropped his spear and grabbed at his throat. A heartbeat later, he fell to lie motionless on the ground, just like those in the village.

"What killed him?" called Merik from behind a bush. "Nothing touched him!"

"Maybe it's the air?" suggested Hert.

"We're breathing air and we're not dead," Merik pointed out.

"That's because we're upwind from the village," said Makok. "And we don't know if they're dead or just sleeping. We wait for..."

"Listen!" The warning from Terlon cut through Makok's instructions. "The strange flying things are coming back!"

Everyone else in the trading party picked up the sound and soon spotted the things as they returned over the mountains, coming from the direction they'd disappeared. "The Eaters left something which came apart and made the clouds," guessed Makok. He gripped his spears tightly and started for the village.

"Where are you going?" asked Hert from behind a large tree. He reached out to stop Makok before he could leave the cover of the trees.

"To protect my family!" Makok tried to shake off the man's hand but couldn't get away. "They've already taken food plants and cloth. Now they're coming back for people. And they aren't going to have my wife and children!"

"Those Things are big and they carry a lot of Eaters," said Merik gesturing at the village. "To protect the Clan and the village we must have surprise."

"He's right," agreed Terlon. "There's more of them than we have so we have to be smart about what we do. You don't help your family if you're dead."

Makok nodded his agreement after a moment of thought. "All right," he said. "I'll wait for the right instant."

The noise grew as the things circled over the valley and dropped towards the village.

As he watched events unfold Makok tried to think of something, of a way to help his people that wasn't suicide. One of the things passed over a mountain spur and a cloud of dust was thrown up. "That's it!" he exclaimed and called his people over.

As the men gathered around he gestured at the village and began. "Those things throw up a cloud of dust when they get near the ground," he instructed. "We can't see them through the dust and they can't see us!" He gave a ferocious grin. "That's when we attack." The others nodded their agreement.

The six men waited and watched as the strange things began to settle to the ground throwing dust in the air. Before the Things disappeared completely in the thick cloud of brown dust Makok yelled, "Let's go!"

Without waiting to see if anyone was following he crashed through the underbrush, left the trees and raced for the village, his weapons in hand. Rage and fear lent speed to his feet. He was able to cross most of the distance between the trees and the village before the first Eaters started to emerge from the dust clouds. When he saw the faint outlines of creatures appearing Makok dropped down to run along the stream and use the bushes lining the streambed as a screen.

The rest of his men followed but there were too many Eaters to avoid detection. Several of the creatures spotted the running men. One of the Eaters had a shiny stick that he lifted. An instant later smoke came from one end accompanied by a small thunder. Behind Makok and on the other side of the bushes came a cry of anguish.

Makok was further away from the Eaters than he would have liked but he had no choice. He came up out of the streambed, drew back his right arm and threw a spear without breaking stride. Switching his second spear to his throwing hand Makok was ready to throw again before his first spear struck.

He selected another target and drew his arm back to throw when he heard another small thunder. Something grabbed his left leg, jerking it backward. The shock threw him off balance, knocking him to the ground. His spear flew off to one side.

Makok fumbled for his axe and tried to stand when the pain hit. It washed over him in waves and he cried out. Dropping his weapon he reached down and discovered his left leg was bleeding.

More thunders brought him from his throbbing leg to find there were more Eaters with shiny sticks. "How?" he gasped.

Makok looked up and saw the Eaters pointing their sticks. More smoke came out of the sticks accompanied by a small thunder.

Close to one of the huts he saw two Eaters yank a spear from the chest of another Eater and carry the beast away. Pride gleamed through the pain in his leg. It'd been a long throw but he'd hit his mark. Then he noticed there was something different with the beasts. The Eaters had something over their snouts.

Makok went to move his hand off the wound and push himself to his feet. He had to attack, to protect his family. The pain in his leg seemed to lessen a bit which helped but his hand wouldn't move. Concern started to change into hysteria. A nearby movement changed the focus of his attention and he glanced over to see other Eaters moving towards the Things carrying people. Makok strained to get up. He had to get those of the Clan away from the Eaters.

Instead of moving Makok found his eyes growing heavy. He was falling asleep! But even the horror of being helpless with Eaters running loose threatening his family couldn't force his arms to move or stop the sleep. His eyes closed and darkness came.

His wife was wiping his brow when Makok's eyes jerked open and he sat up suddenly. He looked around with wide eyes and then relaxed when he realized his family was gathered around him.

"You're all here!" he exclaimed. "They didn't get you."

Kerin nodded as she answered. "We were in the cave when the attack came. They never came close. But..." her voice trailed off.

Makok nodded his understanding. "How many people did the Eaters get?" he asked.

His wife gave a sigh before replying. "They got more than two double hands of the Clan. That includes men, women and children." She shook her head. "There were several whole families that are missing."

"What about Terlon, Hert and the others who were with me?" Makok asked. "We tried to stop the Eaters." He paused as he remembered. "I hit one but I don't know if I killed it."

Kerin nodded her head. "We know," she replied. "We were watching from the cave." Then she bowed her head and announced. "Merik's dead. He wasn't far behind you but hadn't gone into the streambed like you did. He had a small hole in the front of his chest and a huge one in his back. There was nothing we could do for him. Everyone else in your party was wounded. They've got wounds in the arms or legs."

After delivering the bad news Kerin settled back and looked at her husband. "What do we do now?" she asked.

Then she remembered. "Your uncle Jakto's been asking about you," she said. "He said he wants to talk to you about a something he's found."

Several days after the Eater raid Makok gathered with all of Karg's family at the Clan's Council Hut. Because of his birth position as the eldest surviving son of Karg, Jakto was considered the family patriarch and had the right to call the gathering.

Using a stick to take the weight from his injured leg as he made his way to the Council Hut Makok looked around and counted close to fifty people blocking the entrance. He noted that not all were of Karg's posterity. As usual the women and children were outside the hut trying to hear what was being discussed while the men crowded inside. With a little effort he made his way through the crowd and swept aside the cloth entrance. It was such a nice day outside that Makok wished the meeting was being held elsewhere - like outside where it wasn't so crowded.

Still using his stick he settled to the ground near the door and grunted in pleasure when the pain eased slightly. When he was treating the wound his uncle Kekko had found a strange stone in his leg and removed it. Then he treated the wound with a poultice of herbs and wrapped it with a hide. Makok been assured there'd be no infection but that hadn't helped the pain.

When it appeared everyone who'd been summoned to the meeting had arrived Jakto rose from where he was sitting. The Patriarch's hair now had more white than the brown it once had but he still stood tall and straight. The low rumble of conversations inside the hut ebbed to a stop.

"My family," the old man called in a clear voice. "I've called you here to know of a decision I've made. A valley far from here has been found, past the Tribe's Circle Cliff valley. It is green and fruitful like Circle Cliff and has a large stream of water. I have chosen to leave Home Cave and live in that valley." Dead silence followed that pronouncement for a few heartbeats. Then a few quiet conversations struck up as people began to discuss the possibilities.

"Why should we leave?" called out one man from the growing confusion. "We've lived well here at Home Cave."

"That's true," agreed Jakto. "We have lived well. I found that valley many years ago but never thought of leaving to settle there until now. But the Eaters coming into our valley has changed my mind. I think the Eaters will return for more of the people. So does Makok."

Embarrassed Makok kept his attention on Jakto while some of the other men sitting nearby looked at him. They hadn't realized his uncle had visited him yesterday and they'd discussed the decision. Still many of them were nodding their heads in agreement.

"So do all the sons of Karg," Jakto went on and gestured at Kekko and Kaf who were sitting beside him. "They've chosen to come with me because life in Home Canyon is good - now! But it won't remain so because the Eaters will return again! I choose to leave now while we can prepare for the winter.

"I am taking three days to prepare my wives for the journey. The time I'll be leaving is when the shadow of the largest mountain reaches the village after the three days are over. Those who wish may leave with me. I would hope that all Karg's family will come."

Over the intervening days word spread through the Clan that Jakto was taking Karg's family from Home Cave. There was no attempt on the Elders part to dissuade anyone from leaving. It seemed the Family's departure would solve a problem the Elders had been worried about for the first time; that of overpopulation.

When the appointed time arrived Karg's descendants began to gather with their possessions. Jakto stood on a large rock to watch his family gather and finish their preparations. To his surprise a young couple who weren't of Karg's family walked up carrying packs. The old man stepped off his rock and walked over to the two people, Delin and Astin.

Delin looked up to see the Patriarch coming in his direction and hurried over. "Can I help you Elder?" he asked.

A brief smile crossed Jakto's lips. "You can by answering a question." He gestured at the packs. "What are you doing?"

"We're leaving with you." Delin looked surprised. "We believe the Eaters will return and wish to be with your family. But if you won't let us we're leaving anyway." He shrugged. "We'll try the Tribe or find our own valley."

Jakto considered for a moment then nodded. "You won't have to do that. You're more than welcome to journey with us," he said and gestured. "Check with Hert and tell him you're coming with us." Turning, he made his way back to his rock, mumbling about idiots who couldn't recognize reality. He'd warned the other elders about the danger and encouraged them to abandon Home Cave as well but they'd refused.

"What's that you're saying uncle?" Makok asked.

Jakto glanced over and smiled. "Just commenting about some people's lack of vision. Particularly the other Elders."

Stepping back up on the rock, he checked the suns' position then looked at the mountains. The shadow from the largest peak had reached the village. Raising his hands to attract attention he called out. "My family, it is time. Makok has already made the postings for travel. Let's go." He stepped off the rock to begin the journey.

Cries of well wishes were called by others of the Clan who had gathered to watch. In turn the Family promised to send trading parties from the new valley when they could. It shouldn't take long to get established.

As he followed Jakto down the canyon Makok had a sudden thought. Maybe this was what happened to the Tribe. The Tribe had left the Clan and forgot where they'd come from. Or maybe it was the other way around. This time, however, there would be no forgetting.

# Chapter 8

Makok sat on the dirt floor of his hut staring at the fire. Outside he could hear the wind howling, blowing snow so hard that one couldn't see a spears length away if they went outside. He adjusted the furs around his shoulders as a strong blast of wind caused the walls to shift and the wooden frame to creak. Snow cascaded in through the smoke hole in the ceiling. A hissing was heard when a few flakes hit the fire.

Reaching over he added a piece of wood to the fire. The temperature was comfortable now but would cool down once the fire went out. Another blast of wind hit the hut and his wife glanced over at him. Makok gave her a reassuring nod. He knew this hut would hold since it'd already endured stronger storms over the past few winters. The heavy wood frame was covered, inside and out, with animal hides. The outer hides were in turn covered with the potting clay so abundant in Grass Valley. The clay was then fired so it would cure and harden. It was the hardened clay that prevented the wind from stripping the outer hides from the frame. The entrance was also made of hides and tied securely so only an occasional gust of wind sent snow inside. His hard work kept his family warm during the cold winter nights.

It had been almost twelve full winters since Jakto had led Karg's Family from Home Cave to settle Grass Valley. Makok leaned back against a wall with a contented sigh as the fire snapped and popped. Their new home had proven even better than they'd imagined. The gardens produced more food than they ever saw in the old canyon. There was plentiful game in the surrounding valleys. Now he wondered why they'd waited so long to settle here. Everything had been so comfortable that several winters ago Jakto had suggested they try raising animals like the Tribe.

That little project had proved more challenging than the Family had expected, Makok remembered. First they had to catch the right animals and keep them in wooden corrals. A corral was something the Tribe of Circle Cliffs hadn't worried about. Their animals could wander about their valley freely because there was no way out of Circle Cliffs. He gave a snort of amusement as he recalled some of the 'events' they endured as they worked to catch the horses, tame them and keep them in the valley.

At the snort Kerin, Makok's wife, looked over at him. A smile brought one from her.

Once the horses had been tamed and grown used to the corrals the Family put up fences around the grassy areas of the valley floor and let the animals wander the pastures. Just as those concerns were solved another problem appeared: Long-toothed Eaters. It hadn't taken the predators very long to learn where the easiest prey was. In the first two summers the Family lost many of the colts to the long-toothed Eaters before they came upon a method to protect the herd. Hunters were posted to watch for danger and drive the cats away. He gave a mental shrug. Even though some of the hunters died or were injured each year it was worth it. The horses were too valuable to lose.

Makok stretched out and settled against a pile of furs. He watched as his wife went back to showing their youngest daughter hand plays. The other four children, three sons and another daughter amused themselves.

A stronger than normal burst of wind hit the hut. The whole structure seemed to shake and more snow showered in through the smoke hole. Everyone looked up to see if the hut would collapse but Makok smiled again. Let the wind blow.

He went back to the problem he'd been pondering before getting sidetracked: How to strike from a distance. Their spears couldn't be thrown fast enough to catch the agile long-tooth predators menacing the herd. Only axes were effective against the swift animals. But that meant the axes had to be wielded close in; a hand-to-paw fight. He scowled as he pondered. There had to be a swift, accurate way to kill from a distance.

Once again his thoughts shifted. The summer after the Family had left Home Cave Eaters and Things-in-the-air had returned to that canyon and took more people. It was just as Jakto had said would happen. In fact a pattern developed. At least once each summer the Eaters had gone to Home Cave to steal people.

Makok had also noticed something else. It was only Home Cave that had been visited by the creatures. Neither the Tribe nor the Family had heard the flying things thunder or spotted one flying nearby. It was always the Clan that was attacked. When that became apparent more of the Clan began leaving. More families left to find their own valleys closer to the warm jungles until just over fifty people were left living in the once crowded canyon.

The Clan needed something to strike the Eaters from a distance where the bad air was not. Makok gave a quiet grunt with a slight nod. Now that he thought about it both people had the same problem. The guards were just trying to protect different herds from different predators.

"Pater?"

Makok looked to see who was calling him.

"Pater?"

Makok located the caller. It was his oldest son who was sitting on the other side of the fire. "Yes, Mak," Makok answered. "What do you want?"

"Watch!"

Makok saw his son, ten winters old, holding a sound maker. The Tribe had been making these items for quite some time. It was a piece of bent wood with several strings of dried gut drawn tight between both ends of the stick. They'd found that when pulling the strings and releasing them a sound was made. Shorter strings made higher sounds, longer strings deeper. The Tribes children would use the sound makers to occupy the idle time of the winter. Makok had brought one home for his family from a trading journey.

Mak fit a stick to one of the strings, pulled it back, then let go. The stick wobbled through the air to strike the inner hide wall next to his father. It fell to the ground. "See Pater!" he squealed. "I can make a stick fly, like a bird!"

"I see Mak," commented Makok tossing the stick back, nodding his encouragement. "How far can you make it fly?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."

"Try to hit this spot on the wall," asked Makok. He took a piece of charcoal from near the fire and made a circle on the hide wall near where he was sitting. "See if you can hit it from your side of the hut."

Mak nodded, fit another stick to a string and took careful aim. When released the stick wobbled across the open area, over the fire, and fell into a pile of hides. "Oh, short!" he said. The boy picked up another stick to try again. By this time the other children had noticed the new game and were clamoring for a turn to make the stick fly.

The rest of the evening involved Makok and Kerin laughing at their children as they launched sticks over the fire at the target. The children took turns experimenting to find better ways of getting the stick to where they wanted it to go.

Over the next several weeks Makok watched his children continue with their experiments with their toy when they could. The snows of winter melted as spring arrived with its increased work for the entire family. The gardens had to be planted, watered, and weeded. Hides also had to be prepared, pots made and cloth worked. In their free time the children would add grasses, reeds, and feathers to the sticks to see if they could improve the accuracy and distance of the sticks.

One day as Makok was preparing for his turn to guard the horses Mak approached. He held up the stick for his father's inspection. It was easy to see that all the strings had been broken. "Tim did it Pater!" accused Mak pointing at his younger sister who'd followed her older brother out to where their father was. "She pulled too hard and broke the string."

"I did not!" protested the younger girl.

"Then how'd it break?" argued Mak.

"Stop it you two!" ordered Makok holding up a hand to forestall further argument. "There was a hand of strings here. Can both of you say you didn't break one of them?" There was silence and neither child looked at their father. "I thought so. Now run off and I'll see what I can do to fix it."

After sending the two children back to help tend the gardens he studied the sound maker for a moment and then put it down. It might be easier to start over than to repair. It shouldn't be that difficult to make one. Earlier trading journeys to the Tribe of Circle Cliffs had let him see the toy being made. He'd even learned about different kinds of wood.

On his way to the pasture where the horses were being kept Makok stopped off at the stream and used his flint axe to cut several straight finger sized willows. He remembered that willow was one of the woods the Tribe used to make the toys. Since he was going to all this trouble he might as well make more one for each child and prevent future arguments.

When he was finished he had one stick for each of his children with two extras for mistakes. Then he carried the arm load to the small rise where he would guard the herd. Once there he propped the branches against some rocks then went to make sure there was nothing threatening the horses in his area.

A short time later Makok returned to his post satisfied that all was as it should be. Settling down with his back against a boulder where the view included horses grazing, he took out his knife, selected a stick, and began to strip the small branches and outer bark from the main shaft.

The whole process didn't take very long and he soon had a pile of shavings at his feet. When he finished he held up the bare stick and examined its length. It looked right for what he had in mind. Next, he tried flexing it, to see if it would break when bent. "Not bad," he muttered under his breath. "It has good spring and didn't break. Not bad for a beginner but what can I do for the string?"

He knew that the Tribe used strands from the dried guts of animals for the strings but he didn't have any available so he'd have to improvise. Pushing himself to his feet he looked around. "What can I use?" He muttered as he scanned the area. Then he shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing but grass and the..."

He stopped and stared at the horses. Now, why wouldn't that work? Of course one wouldn't be strong enough but if he braided several together it ought to work.

He walked down the slope and wandered through the herd of grazing horses. Selecting one that looked about right he went over and plucked several long hair strands from its tail. The beast gave a slight jump, whinnied and looked back. "Yah," Makok said with a grin. "It's a real pain. Now hold still." A handful of tail strands were collected before the creature had endured enough and trotted off.

Chuckling, Makok headed back through the herd and up the small rise to his boulder. Another scan of the area revealed there were no signs of predators so he sat down and amused himself by braiding several strands of the collected hair into a single long strand. When he thought it was long and strong enough Makok tied the strand to one end of the prepared willow and then the other end causing the willow to bow. Plucking the strand he noted that it hummed just like the Tribe's sound maker. "Well that's one," he said as he put it down and picked up another wooden shaft.

Two weeks later found the Family diligent in preparing for the summer's heat and harvest. Makok was on guard duty once again and looked out over the pasture where the horses were grazing. Several colts had been born since spring began and would be the first prey for any predators. He knew the guard's had to be very careful or the herd's increase would be lost.

"Pater! Pater!" called Mak as he ran around a large rock and held up a good sized furry Runner by its long ears for his father to see. "Look what I did!"

Makok turned away from the horses and looked down at his son with pride. The Runners got into the gardens and ate the Family's food. When they tried to stop the losses the Planters found it very difficult to kill the animal because the little beastie was very quick. Despite the difficulties his son had done it.

"Let me see," he said and took the animal for an obligatory examination. Although the Runner was fast it was good to eat. In most instances the beast would have been stunned by a thrown rock then clubbed to death or strangled in a snare. That wouldn't leave any meat which could be used. But this time was different. Holding the ears, he raised the dead animal higher so he could examine it closer.

"What's this?" asked Makok pointing to a bloody spot in the side of the animal.

"That's where I hit it," answered Mak holding up a stick, "with this."

Makok handed the Runner back to his son and took the stick. One end had been tapered to a point. Reaching out with a finger he tested the tip. He noticed the stick was smeared with dried blood from the tip to a point halfway down the shaft. The other end had bird feathers tied to the shaft. He looked down into the eyes of his son. "Tell me how you did this."

A wide grin came across the boys face. "It was easy!" he gushed then his voice took on a lower tone. "I hid behind a bush with the maker you'd made for me," Mak said and held up the Music Maker his father had made. "When the Runner got close I was very quiet. I pulled back on the string then let go! I hit it with the stick." The grin widened. "On my first try," he added.

"You're going to be a great hunter," Makok said and watched his son swell at the praise. "How far away from the Runner were you when you shot it?"

Mak looked around then stepped to one side and pointed at a bush. "It was from where I'm standing to that bush," he replied.

Makok gauged the distance to be about ten paces then looked back to his son. "That was amazing," he said. "Now, you learn the next thing about being a hunter." Makok smiled at his son's questioning look. "You killed it so you have to gut it and skin it before giving it to your mother." He took out his flint knife and nodded at the Runner. "Now, the first thing..."

That event got Makok thinking. If a music maker could kill a Runner could it kill a long-tooth cat? This could be the answer he was looking for. After his time on guard was finished and he was on his way home he stopped by the creek to cut a willow. That night in his hut he made his own Maker. Mak saw what his father was doing and wanted one so father and son worked together.

The willow stick broke the first time Makok tried it. So did the second and third stick. He gave up on using willows and tried other woods. After a number of attempts Makok found that wood from the yew tree worked best. He called his invention a bow.

Mak helped his father make the shooting sticks that fit the bow. These were called arrows. But these arrows were different from those made by Mak earlier. Makok split the end opposite to the feathers and placed a small, triangle shaped piece of flint on the tip of the stick. This tip was tied in place using more hair from the horse's tails.

After the bow and arrow have been fashioned the father and son did what came naturally and shot arrows at everything.

# Chapter 9

Makok stood on a large boulder that overlooked the meadow covering the mountain valley floor. Throughout the valley were boulders which had fallen from the surrounding mountains. After rolling down the steep slopes this particular rock had come to its present position just below the ridge of a small knoll. The added height gave him an excellent view of the valley and his charges. Some of the horses were grazing on the tall grass just below him while others were wandering about. A late morning breeze rippled through the tall grass and ruffled the animal's manes. On his left a few mares huddled together next to the fence to let their foals nurse. Further down the valley a number of horses were at the creek getting a drink.

Satisfied there was no immediate danger Makok jumped off the boulder and picked up his unstrung bow which had been leaning against the rock. He ran a hand up and down the length of the wood checking for cracks or splinters. After the inspection he nodded his approval at his weapons condition. He'd been practicing with this particular bow for almost two months now and there was no sign of strain in the wood.

Taking a bow string from a pouch at his waist he fitted a loop in the grooves at one tapered end of the bow. Then placing the end of the bow with the string attached on the ground he positioned his right leg against the wood and used his weight to bend the bow. When the wood had arched to the right position he looped the string over the other end of the bow and into the grooves there. Releasing the tension on the bow he let the string go taut. He checked the string to make sure it was secure in the grooves at both ends then nodded his approval. It was ready to use.

After slipping the strung bow over his head so it rested on his right shoulder Makok pulled an arrow from his quiver. He examined the shaft with a critical eye. Although he was young Mak had shown a real talent of making arrows and had produced all the weapons in his fathers quiver. The shaft of the arrow Makok was holding was made from a straight willow stick with feathers tied to one end. A flint he'd fashioned into a point was at the other end. Makok took a critical look at the feathers. If they weren't straight or secured to the shaft properly the arrow wouldn't hit the target.

A faint high pitched yapping brought his attention away from the arrow. Careful not to break the point he placed the shaft back into the quiver then climbed onto the boulder to locate the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the trees on the mountainside of the other side of the valley. Try as he might there wasn't much to see besides the herd, the forest on the slopes of the mountains, and small trail worn by the horses following the creek. Below, several of the animals below picked up on the strange noise and were looking around. One or two began moving forward, nickering.

Just then Shover, Tyr, Merik and Genl came running up from their guard positions. Each one held their spears at the ready. "What kind of animal makes that noise?" Shover asked Makok.

Makok shook his head in ignorance then jumped down from his look out. "It's new to me but we need to find out," he said and gestured at the herd. "We've got to do something to stop it or the horses'll get spooked." More of the animals were raising their heads to look for the sound that was getting louder. "If they stampede they'll go right through the fences." He nodded at the cluster of huts a short distance away. "People'll get hurt if stampeding horses get loose in the village."

"What d'you think?" Tyr asked the others who'd come with him.

Merik shrugged his shoulders in indifference. Tyr and Genl looked at each other and nodded. Then Shover said. "Makok's right! We can't let the horses get spooked. We have to check this out."

"All right," Tyr said with a deciding nod of his head. He was the man in charge of that days guard detail. "Genl you stay here while the rest of us go to see what's happening."

Genl went to protest but stopped at a scowl from Tyr. To keep watch he climbed up onto the rock Makok had used.

"Let's go!" called Tyr and the four men hurried towards the mysterious sound. As they left the rise where Makok had been the sound of the yapping changed, gaining in intensity and pitch.

"What's that mean?" wondered Shover.

"No idea," replied Makok, "but we'd better hurry." He paused long enough to make sure his quiver and arrows were secure then broke into a run.

The four men climbed over the fence to get into the meadow, sprinted through the tall grass, past several horses and vaulted over the fence on the other side of the valley. They crashed through underbrush and dodged trees as they ran up the side of the knoll towards the sound. The trees ended suddenly when they crested the ridge. What they saw in a small clearing below brought them to a halt. There was a pack of animals attacking a guard.

"What are those things?" asked Tyr breathing hard.

"No idea," replied Shover. "But whatever they are, they're ugly."

As he took a moment to catch his breath Makok tried to count the beasts that were down there but kept having to start over when he reached ten. The new creatures were dashing in and out, cutting in front of one another making it difficult to get an accurate count. As he watched all he could tell was that the animals were four footed, hairy, and very quick.

The man the pack was attacking had climbed to the top of a clump of boulders to get away from the beasts. The animals were dashing in and out, leaping onto nearby boulders then dropping down, slashing at their prey with their jaws. Some were perched on other rocks waiting for a chance to pounce.

"What's that guy doing here?" asked Shover and gestured over the hill towards the horses. "This can't be his post! He can't see the herd from here."

"Probably was chased here," replied Makok, "by those animals."

"That's my brother down there," cried Merik as he finally recognized the man being attacked. "Melik!" he called waving his arms to catch his brother's attention. "We're here to help you." But the animals were making too much noise and his call didn't carry over the tumult.

"C'mon!" he called and waved everyone forward. "We've got to help." The four men began hurrying down the slope towards the fight with Merik in the lead.

"Why isn't he using his spears?" asked Tyr as he jogged down the slope. The man was hacking at any creature that came within reach of his hatchet. By this time the men had come close enough to see Melik's arms and legs were bleeding from several cuts and scratches where the animals had gotten too close.

"He tried," said Makok and pointed to where two spears were sticking in the ground. "He tried and missed."

"Maybe he should have spent more time practicing the spear," commented Shover. "Pot makers!" he said in disgust. "They're only good for playing in mud."

"Mud?!" exclaimed Melik starting towards the other, "he's just as..."

"Hold it!" said Makok stepping between the two men to keep them apart and nodded at the fight in the clearing below. "We have a different enemy, remember?"

Everyone had stopped as the two men glared at each other for a moment then at Makok. "Watch this," growled Tyr. "I'll show you how a spear is thrown." Gripping the wooden shaft of one of his spears he ran forward, yelling at the top of his voice. After a few steps he drew his arm back and threw putting his momentum into the throw.

The animals were moving too fast trying to get at Melik and the thrown spear missed. Now alerted to the new danger the creatures eyed the new enemies. Stunned by the miss the rescuers paused in their charge. The cornered man, surprised by the unanticipated arrival of help, also stopped fighting to look up. Two animals on boulders nearby took advantage of their prey's inattention and leapt. Before anyone could react they'd dragged Melik to the ground from the rock where he'd taken refuge. Other beasts rushed in to claim a portion of the prize. The man's shrieks of anguish could be heard over the yapping and snarling of the creatures.

"Melik!" screamed Merik as he sprinted down the slope, brandishing his hatchet. Right behind him came Makok, Tyr and Shover.

There was a brief, noisy melee as four of the stronger beasts of the pack claimed the downed prey for themselves. Growling, the remaining animals turned to face the new arrivals who'd just reached the clearing. These animals snarled and moved toward the four men, saliva and blood dripping from their jaws.

Merik threw his spear at the closest beast. The creature skittered off to one side to let the weapon peg in the sod then turned back to face Merik. Its teeth were bared in a vicious snarl. The man cursed and said, "These animals are too quick to hit."

"That's what Melik learned," said Makok in a low voice.

Moments after he'd been dragged off his boulder Melik's cries and contortions stopped. The creatures continued to rip and tear at the hapless guard's body. "What can we do now?" moaned Merik. "How can we get around these things to save Melik?"

"We can't save him. He's dead!" pronounced Shover with a shake of his head. "By this time they've ripped out his throat." Just then two of the animals feasting on Melik left the corpse to join the group menacing the four men. Makok guessed there were at least fifteen creatures coming at them.

"We'd better worry about our own skins," Shover continued. "They're too quick to be hit by spears so all we have are our hatchets. And a hatchet didn't do Melik any good."

"Running wouldn't do us any good either," observed Makok slipping his bow over his head. "They're faster than we are."

One of the animals rushed in from the left and charged at Shover. Another dashed at Makok. Tyr swung his hatchet and missed. The animal backed off. Makok's attacker had only feinted a rush and didn't come within reach. In response, Makok let his hatchet drop to the ground, took an arrow from the quiver at his waist and put it to his bow string.

"Think your toy is going to help us Makok?" sneered Tyr.

"Shut up, Tyr!" barked Merik as he kept an eye on the menacing creatures. "We need whatever help we can get. I'm all for keeping those things as far away as possible." He jabbed at a creature with his remaining spear then glanced over at Tyr. "Unless you'd rather try your hand at a close fight with these things." Over the backs of the ever moving beasts they could see the two animals still tearing at the body of their friend.

Once again the creatures darted in. Shover, Tyr and Merik shouted and swung their weapons to keep the animals at bay. Makok drew back on the bow string, aimed and let fly. The arrow flew true to embed halfway up its shaft in the throat of an animal charging at Shover. No sound came from the beast as it collapsed at the man's feet.

With the sudden death of one of their number a change came over the rest of the pack. They became more aggressive, rushing in trying to drag one of the men down.

Makok reached back to his quiver and put another arrow to his string. The next arrow took one of the creatures in the side. It wasn't a killing blow but it slowed the animal down and the pain maddened it.

"Look out!" cried Shover as the injured animal sprang at the men. Makok jumped out of the way confusing the crazed animal. Merik brought his axe down splitting the creature's skull while Tyr took a swing at another beast. Makok put an arrow into the chest of still another.

The fight gained in intensity. Men shouted and hacked at the creatures that growled and bit. Cuts and slashes were opened in the arms and legs of the men as they fought to keep the animals away. Makok fired his arrows as fast as he could make sure of his target.

There was no telling how long the fight had been going when the surviving beasts broke off the attack without warning to run for the trees. Only five of the pack made it into the forest and all of them had taken at least one arrow.

Makok took a deep shuddering breath and let it out as he watched the animals run. "I'm glad that's over," he said and slowly released the tension on the bow string. Looking down he realized he'd only two arrows left in the quiver. Then keeping an arrow to the string he joined the other men as they hurried over to where Melik lay. From the torn and bloody condition of the body it was apparent they were too late. The man was dead. Merik collapsed next to the body of his brother, sobbing in grief.

Shover and Tyr looked at Merik then over at Makok not knowing what to say or do. The archer motioned for the two men to sit down then placed his bow and quiver nearby where he could get to it if needed. He began to clean and bind the men's wounds.

A cry came from the knoll and everyone looked up. It seemed Genl had raised the alarm and reinforcements from the Family ran down the slope. When they reached the clearing they stopped and stared at the beasts with arrows protruding from their bodies. Then they looked at Makok who was still tending wounds.

"How?" asked Terlon.

The first use of Makok's bow as a weapon was a success and it brought a change to his life. He was no longer assigned guard duty because Jakto, the Patriarch, had him teaching the hunters of the Family how to make their own bow and arrows. Then he was to show those hunters how to use those weapons.

When word was passed to the other villages of how well Makok's invention worked he was inundated with more students. But of all those he taught the hunters of the Clan from Home Canyon were the most attentive and diligent. They hadn't been visited by the Eaters this summer but an attack was expected soon. Perhaps the bows would help drive the Eaters off - perhaps not. Now there was hope.

# Chapter 10

Pentor reached out to shift the branches of the bushy tree which was his hiding place. In fact the tree was more of a large bush than a typical tree but that was to his advantage. His enemy wouldn't be able to see him through the dense foliage. With a small gap in the leaves created he peered at the clustered huts an easy stones throw away. Then he checked the suns position. It was nearing mid-day.

A short time ago scouts posted along the mountains nearby had signaled that the strange flying things which had plagued the Clan for years were heading for Home Canyon. Only the fastest of the Clan could leave the valley before the things arrived but they'd have to leave their families to do it. Instead of running the Clan prepared an ambush for the Eaters arrival.

He pulled an arrow from his quiver and tested the flint point to make sure it was sharp. A smile crossed his face. The Eaters that rode in the strange flyers had come to Home Canyon before and found his people easy prey. His smile turned wicked. But this time their visit would be different. There were hunters with bows and arrows hidden in various places around the village and near the gardens. If the Eaters wanted people from the Clan they'd have to pay with lives.

A growing, thunderous roar told Pentor that the time for revenge was near. He replaced the arrow in the quiver, glanced up through the leaves to see three things coming over the western peaks. Knowing it wouldn't be long before the fight began he settled down in the area created inside the covering leaves to hide a hunter to wait for his chance.

As they'd done so many times before the strange flyers flew back and forth over the huts and gardens sending dust into the air. A large number of small objects fell from the flying things. These objects were spread out among the huts of the village and in the gardens. Several were located between the village and Home Cave to take advantage of the breeze. Fortunately, none were close to his position.

Pentor watched as the flying things finished dropping the objects, rose and flew off to hover above the end of the valley away from the huts. It seemed they were taking up guard position to make sure no one escaped. His attention was drawn back to the huts when he heard several thunderclaps. White clouds on the ground were starting to drift down the canyon into the village and he knew that the bad air which made people sleep had been released.

Pentor watched the clouds begin to dissipate and nodded. He'd selected this fighting position intentionally. The wind was coming down the canyon, moving through the village and away from Home Cave. That way the breeze would keep the bad air away from him so he could stay awake to protect the Clan.

The sun had reached mid afternoon when the flying things left their guard position and returned. They were careful to leave as much bad air in the valley as possible and flew close to the mountains. One circled around to fly over his hiding place. Wind coming down from that flyer caused the branches of his tree to thrash and whip around. Dust, leaves, small rocks and sticks were thrown about. But Pentor was prepared and shielded his face from the flying debris. A moment later the wind left and the dust clouds moved, staying under the flying things. He blinked the dust out of his eyes and watched as the things settled to the ground near the village.

The hunter reached into his quiver which was hanging on a nearby branch to select an arrow. He checked it for any problems then put it to the bowstring with slow deliberate motions. Pentor didn't want to let the Eaters know he was there.

It didn't take long for the breeze to clear away the dust cloud thrown up by the strange flyers landing. He watched as openings appeared in one side of the things and Eaters climbed out. Some of the creatures gathered into a loose box formation then made their way into the village. Others stayed to guard the flying things and still others went towards the gardens. One by one the Eaters disappeared into the huts and a grim smile stretched Pentor's lips. He knew they wouldn't find anything.

After the alert had been given all the women, the children, and the elderly had taken refuge in the cave rather than try to escape the valley. They weren't fast enough to get away and would've been caught out in the open if they'd tried. The hunters with bows had taken up positions to defend their families.

When the Eaters left each hut empty handed Pentor gave a quiet chuckle. The lack of people seemed to puzzle the creatures and those who'd gone to the village met outside one hut for a quick conference. One who seemed to be the leader pointed at the mountain where the Home Cave could be seen and began chirping. A moment later five or six started that way following the path that ran along the stream.

Pentor gave a soft grunt of satisfaction. The path would bring the Eaters right past his hiding place and give him a perfect shot. Unfortunately the leader wasn't in the approaching group. Chirps and whistles that the hunter assumed was talking could be heard coming as the Eaters closed on his position. He pulled back on his bowstring, careful to aim through a small gap in the branches and leaves and waited. "Closer, come closer", he said softly. "Move a little this way." As if in answer to his barely audible commands the Eaters shifted to avoid a large prickly bush and brought them closer.

He watched as the Eaters moved past his tree. They were approaching an area of boulders when Pentor decided it was time. He pulled back a little further on the bowstring and loosed his arrow with a prayer for accuracy. Without waiting to see where his arrow went he stepped back for another. The shaft of the new arrow was just being set to his bow when a shrill, nerve shredding screech was heard. A hit! He stepped back to his vantage point, his bow ready for another shot.

The group of Eaters he'd been watching was standing in a rough half circle around one of their number who was on the ground. He knew it was his target because the thing was screeching and writhing in the dust with an arrow through its long neck. While two or its companions held their injured comrade down one of the other Eaters bent over and broke off the feathered end of the arrow. Then it pulled the rest of the shaft from the neck. It examined the two parts of the weapon, testing the stone tip with a finger, while another Eater worked to stop the bleeding coming from the downed creature's neck. A moment later the screeching stopped, only occasional spasms came from the downed Eater.

Pentor saw the Eaters glance towards Home Cave then around the area. More chirps and whistles were heard coming from the group and he gave a silent laugh. It was obvious to the hunter that his prey was wondering what had happened or where the arrow had come from. He loosed again and this time waited to see if his aim was true.

A soft shrill sound, that was almost a shriek, was heard as the arrow tore through the air. It flew straight and true to strike the right shoulder of an Eater standing over Pentor's first victim. He'd fired with such force the arrow sank one third of its length into the creature. Pentor heard a loud high-pitched wail as the Eater pawed at the protruding shaft. Cursing himself for not being a better shot he moved to get another arrow. This time he would kill!

In turning for his quiver he brushed against a branch disturbing the outer leaves of his hiding place. The movement was slight - as if a small, light breeze had brushed the tree. Pentor ignored the slip and placed another arrow to his bow.

A flurry of chirping came from the Eaters as one of them noticed the movement. Or was it that they guessed the bushy tree was the only place the attack could be coming from? The creatures acted. While two of them tended their wounded comrade several of the creatures turned and pointed shiny sticks at Pentor's tree. There was a series of thunderclaps and small clouds came from the ends of the sticks.

Pentor felt a hard kick in the chest and was thrown back against the trunk of the tree. Pain surged through his body as he slid down the trunk; the rough bark stripping skin from his bare back. The impact of hitting the trunk knocked his quiver and arrows from their place. The thunders continued and parts of branches and leaves flicked off and fell to cover the ground and hunter. He looked down and saw that a little hole had appeared in the right side of his bare chest with blood bubbling from the wound. Reaching up with his left hand he fingered the hole. He coughed and spat blood onto the ground then took some leaves from a pouch and placed them in the wound. The berries to ease pain were left in the pouch. Pentor wanted a clear head when he made the next shot.

Ignoring the pain bursting from his chest he struggled to his feet then gathered his bow from the ground from where it had fallen. Leaning against the trunk Pentor worked to catch his breath but the pain and pressure building in his chest wouldn't let him. Still panting, he looked around and found several arrows on the ground nearby. He almost fell over again picking them up. Then coming to an almost erect posture he put an arrow to the bowstring.

Moving back to his vantage point he examined the scene spread out before him. Pentor could see that other hunters from the Clan had attacked while he'd been knocked down causing the Eaters to take what cover they could behind several boulders. He could see most of the creatures had arrows in them. There were two more Eaters on the ground, a short distance away, unmoving. He assumed they were dead.

Pentor took careful note of where the arrows were in the bodies of the dead. That was where the Eaters were the most vulnerable. After a few heartbeats he was satisfied he knew what to shoot for and turned his attention to the survivors. As he watched, an occasional arrow would bounce off a shielding rock, come flying over the rock or stick in the ground nearby.

The Eaters would take turns dodging those arrows to point their sticks over the rocks to make thunder. Thunders could also be heard coming from the village and gardens. One Eater turned and leaned back against the rock, rubbing an arm where an arrow had gouged a bloody line. It arched its long neck to keep its triangular head behind the protecting rock.

Pentor pulled the bowstring back, gasping in pain and ignored the blood running down his chest. He tried to pull the string all the way back but couldn't. The pain in his chest wouldn't let him. After making sure of his aim he let go. The hiss of the arrows passage was just audible over the Eaters Thunder. He watched the arrow fly true to strike the creature in the chest. That was where he guessed its heart was. His target shrieked and slumped back against the rock it'd been hiding behind. The long neck dropped and the creature's head hit the dirt sending up a small puff of dust.

Startled at their companions cry the other Eaters turned to look. Pentor hurried despite the pain and shot again, killing another beast.

The surviving Eaters raised their sticks, pointing them towards the tree where Pentor hid, and the thunders sounded again. Invisible hammers struck slamming the hunter back against the trunk of the tree and then to the ground.

Makok watched the battle for Home Canyon from his concealed vantage point on the side of the east mountain. His feet shuffled in anxious movements as he itched to take part in the fighting. But he'd been told by Jakto that he was too valuable to risk in battle with the Eaters since he was the inventor of the bow and arrow. His job was to remain safe and evaluate the fight. Terlon had been sent along to make sure Makok followed the Patriarch's instructions. His wife had added her own very sincere and stern warning to the Patriarch's. Makok gave a little smile. He knew whose warning carried the most weight with him. Even with a guard.

From this position he could see that his bows and arrows were making a difference. "What's the count?" he asked.

Terlon who was standing next to him shielded his eyes as he looked down into the valley. After a moment Makok's friend replied. "I count at least ten Eaters down and not moving. I think they're dead."

"What about the Clan?" Makok wondered.

Herton, the Clan member who was helping Terlon guard Makok, shook his head. "There's no way to tell," he replied. "They're all hiding or in the cave."

Makok nodded his understanding and continued to stare down into the valley. If the fight continued as it'd begun all the Eaters would soon be dead and the things that brought them taken.

Just after another creature fell transfixed with arrows Makok saw an Eater not far from the cluster of huts raise a hand and arch his neck. Makok turned to Terlon and pointed down into the valley. "Look at that!" he cried. "That one's talking to his hand. Has the fighting made the Eaters lose their minds?"

Before anyone could even attempt an answer the noise of the thunders grew louder once more. The slender arms above the flying things began to move. Then the surviving Eaters broke from their cover and raced for their rides. Their long necks and tails were stretched out ahead and behind as they ran.

"They're fast!" commented Herton as the three men watched the Eaters streak through the village. "I don't think I've ever seen anything that fast."

The Eaters were fast but not fast enough. Hidden hunters killed three more as they retreated. Those creatures who survived leaped into their rides which then rose into the air. The expected cloud of dust flew out to block everyone's view for a moment. As the flying things rose out of the dust plume where they could be seen arrows flew from the hillsides.

"I can't believe it," said Makok and pointed. "Look, we can't even hit them! The wind just blows our arrows away."

"Yes," said Terlon, "but it doesn't matter. They're leaving." There was a brief pause as the men watched the things climb higher into the sky.

When the strange flyers had risen about halfway up the mountainsides and were turning away Herton began pounding Makok's back. "We did it! We did it!" he yelled. "We drove the Eaters off!"

"Easy," said Makok ducking away from the pounding. "I'd like to live to see my family again."

"Sorry," the man said in tones that suggested he was anything but and stopped in mid-backslap. "But this is the first time the Eaters and their rides have ever been driven off." A few scattered cheers could be heard coming from the vicinity of the village as the people of the Clan realized what they'd done.

"We've beaten them off!" cried Herton thrusting a clenched fist into the air then turned back to Makok. "And it's all because of your weapon."

The inventor of the bow ignored his companions and turned to see that the celebration down in the valley was just beginning. People were racing from Home Cave towards the village cheering and screaming. The hunters who'd been doing the fighting were also leaving their hiding places to join the celebration. Some, like Pentor, would never leave their hiding places. Most of those who did emerge were limping, all were bleeding but they were jubilant. They brandished their bows and yelled their defiance at the departing enemy.

Makok was just moving to leave his vantage point when he noticed something strange about the Eaters flying things. They'd moved down the canyon instead of disappearing over the mountains as they'd done in years past. Then the things turned to face up the canyon towards Home Cave and were staying in place several men's length from each other. Calling and waving a hand to catch his guards attention he studied the things. Down in the valley the Clan hadn't noticed what their enemy was doing and had gathered to celebrate near the village center.

A loud roar startled Makok as two small, thin grayish white clouds left one of the things. The clouds tore through the sky until they reached the mountainside above the Home Cave. There was a huge thunderclap and a portion of the mountainside flew up into the air. Huge rocks and large amounts of dirt cascaded down the slope to cover the caves entrance.

Makok's mouth dropped open as he stared at the dust cloud billowing down into the valley. "How could clouds break a mountain?" he mumbled.

Members of the Clan down in the valley stopped their celebration and turned to stare at the rock and dust. They hadn't seen the clouds hitting the mountain. Other thin lines of cloud traced from the hovering things to the village. Huts, dirt and people flew into the air.

More lines of clouds left the things and moved towards the valley. The village was soon obscured from Makok's view by all the dirt being thrown into the air. The roar of thunderclaps was deafening. Terlon scrambled in the dirt and hid under an overhanging rock while Herton groveled on the ground nearby. Makok had his hands over his ears to dampen the noise but remained at his vantage point oblivious to any danger. He just stood there and stared at the things where the clouds had come from. Even with his best bows and sharpest arrows how could they hope to stop the clouds-that-break-mountains?

It seemed like an eternity before the wrath of those things were satisfied. At last the clouds-that-break-mountains stopped leaving the flying things and the thunders ended. As he watched the things turned, rose higher into the sky and disappeared over the western mountains.

The breeze blowing down the canyon carried the dust away from the village leaving a scene of utter devastation. Only the rustling of leaves and an occasional falling rock broke the profound silence. There was no whimpering or crying of the hurt. Even Terlon and Herton were speechless. Below, the huts, gardens and celebrating people were nowhere to be seen. Holes and mounds; piles of dirt and shattered rocks dotted the landscape. Streamers of light grey smoke rose from smoldering splinters of wood only to be blown away by the light breeze. The once relatively flat valley was now a mass of smoking craters and ridges. Even the stream which ran down the middle of the valley was gone. There was no evidence remaining that anyone had ever lived here.

After remaining motionless for many heartbeats Makok gave a slight shudder and lowered his hands from his ears. Pulling his gaze away from the shattered valley he looked up at the western mountains expecting to see three black dots making noise coming back over the ridges. But there weren't any. When he was sure the flying things had disappeared and weren't returning he began hiking down the mountainside.

His first steps were faltering, then became steady, and picked up speed until he was running. Makok careened around trees, crashed through bushes and jumped over rocks heedless of the noise or danger. Branches and rocks cut and scratched his arms and legs.

Moments later he left the trees and arrived at the village. Or at least he was where the huts had once stood. He scrambled into holes and up rock strewn mounds, moving through the still rising smoke looking for anyone of the Clan. All that was to be seen was smoke, dirt, rocks and smoldering splinters of wood.

Makok was just climbing out of a hole when the sound of rocks being disturbed jerked him around. He looked to see his guard from the Clan stumbling behind him.

"It isn't possible," said Herton. His face was dusty and streaked where tears had run. Blood was running down a leg from a slash received in his run down the mountain. "Those huts had been made out of the heaviest logs we could carry. There's only splinters left."

Makok interrupted before the man could go on. "What's that smell?" he asked sniffing. Herton took a deep breath, testing the air, and shrugged his shoulders. Makok checked the air again but couldn't decide what the odor was. Shaking his head sadly he left the devastated village and continued on to where the Home Cave had been. "The whole mountainside's come down," he said in wonder looking up at the mountain. A treeless scar could be seen where rocks and dirt had come down the slope.

"The Home Cave is gone," repeated Makok. His face reflected the shock they were all feeling. "The mountainside just fell into the valley."

"They can't all be dead!" said Terlon who had stumbled up to join them. "Someone's got to be alive in there."

Makok stood back and looked up at the mound of dirt before him then shook his head. "Everyone had left the cave to celebrate the victory and was in the valley when the clouds struck." He shrugged his shoulders. "Or at least I think they did." Makok shook his head again. "Whether they stayed in the cave or not it doesn't matter. They're all dead because they're buried. There's too much dirt. We can't dig them out."

# Chapter 11

Makok leaned to his left and reached down to shift the furs he was sitting on to a more comfortable position. With that done he settled back to look around the half circle of four other men who made up the ruling council of Karg's Family. He'd been made an Elder and admitted to the Council two years earlier after the Battle of Home Canyon. Of course that was when Jakto had been the Patriarch and everyone was enamored with Makok's invention of the bow and arrow.

Jakto had died last winter and his youngest son, Jat, wanted to be the Patriarch. Makok had opposed that appointment at the time. He'd argued that the Patriarch should be kept in the lineage of Karg's firstborn sons. Or at the very least someone with more experience should lead Karg's family. Because of those reasons he'd championed his older brother to be Patriarch since Wern was the firstborn of Kok who was the firstborn of Karg. But Wern had died after falling over a cliff before the new Patriarch had been chosen. When news of that tragic accident reached the Family Jat had pressured the Elders to choose him as Patriarch before anyone else could come forward. The Elders had acceded to Jat's pressure and confirmed him as the Family's leader despite his youth.

Of course, the new Patriarch remembered Makok's opposition and had been working to get the inventor of the bow from the Council ever since. He'd tried on several occasions to oust Makok last year but had failed.

Makok gave a quiet sigh as he brought his thoughts back to the business at hand where the Council was discussing preparations for the coming summer. This meeting had begun in the mid-afternoon and from the glimpses he could see through the entrance cloth night had fallen. Jat, sitting in the center of the Family Elders, was leading a discussion in the minutia of planting crops and it didn't look like it was going to end anytime soon.

Shadows flickered over the walls from the fire in the center of the Council Hut. That fire was the only light available. A yawn almost split his jaw. Giving a slight shake of his head, Makok tried to wake up and focus his attention on what was happening. He couldn't understand why they had to talk details or even discuss farming at all. Surely, the farmers knew what they were doing after all these years of planting and tending crops.

Someone sitting near the entrance of the Council Hut stood catching Makok's attention. The older, more experienced hunters were closer to the fire and the Elders where they could contribute to the discussion. That was more of Jat's doing. He didn't want to hear from the young so they had to sit on the fringes of the assembly. Makok snorted and wondered why God had allowed Jat to become the Patriarch. It seemed that everything the man did put barriers between people.

Makok watched as the young man made his way through the other men in the hut to reach the fire. Once there the man stood tall and silent. Firelight illuminated the man's face as he waited to be acknowledged by the Patriarch and Makok gave a brief nod of recognition. That was Ko, son of Kek, son of Kekko. A slight smile creased Makok's lips and he leaned forward in anticipation. This was going to be good.

Jat continued his discussion with the other members of the Council and ignored Ko. But the young man was a good hunter and had learned patience. He just stood by the fire and waited. A few of the younger men in the back of the hut recognized the slight and began talking between themselves. The longer Ko was ignored by the Elders the more conversations began.

Makok gave a soft chuckle that was lost in the increasing din of conversations. The Patriarch had insisted on quiet during the Council's deliberations. And when it wasn't quiet? He looked over at Jat. It was obvious the Patriarch was getting angry at the breach of protocol.

At last Jat looked across the fire at Ko and held up a hand from where he was sitting. The conversations in the hut died as men began to wonder what was going to happen next. "You are interrupting vital business," Jat growled.

"I want to discuss something that's more important that farming," Ko announced. Muttering was heard once again. Makok noticed in the flickering firelight that Jat's jaw muscles had developed a spasm.

"It is not for a young hunter to decide what the Council considers," announced the Patriarch. "And the planting of food is very important to the family."

Ko didn't reply but remained standing by the fire. Muffled laughter could be heard from the back of the hut but those who were guilty of that unforgivable breach were hidden by the shadows.

Dan, an Elder to the right of Jat, shifted on his furs. "What is it you wish to discuss young Ko?"

Jat glared at Dan but didn't protest. Ko nodded his appreciation at the Elders permission then asked, "Why aren't you discussing plans to deal with the Eaters and their flying things?"

The Patriarch gave an accusatory glance at Makok. The inventor of the bow just looked back. Although he'd raised this issue many times before he hadn't prompted Ko to bring it up again. He could try professing his innocence in this instance but he knew Jat wouldn't believe him.

"It's been at least two years since the Eaters have been seen," replied Dan. "No one's even heard the thunder of the flying things since the Battle for Home Canyon. They're no longer a problem."

"They're more of a problem than telling farmers how to do what they already know," said Ko.

A quiet muttering was heard as some of the older men were insulted at the young man's impudence. Jat glared at the young man again then nodded to Dan and Marn. Both men leaned in to consult with the Patriarch. Of course, there'd been no invitation for Makok to participate in the discussion.

This wasn't the first time the other Elder's had excluded him and Makok had grown used to the obvious insult. Jat had been freezing him out of deliberations for over half a year now hoping that Makok would recognize that he wasn't wanted or needed and leave the Council.

After a few moments of whispered discussions the Family Patriarch climbed to his feet and faced the young hunter. "The Eaters from the flying things are not a threat!" he announced as he glared at Ko. "The brave hunters from the Clan drove them off and made them aware of what we people can do with our bows. In addition to that, we've never been attacked or visited by the Eaters. It was only Home Canyon that was visited." He paused and nodded at the men in the hut. "Even if they did find us we'll drive them off with our bows and arrows, just like the Clan did at Home Canyon," he said. "That's why we're discussing crops and not the Eaters. The subject is closed!"

At the pronouncement Ko's shoulders sagged and disappointment was apparent on his face even in the dim, flickering light. Marn chuckled and leaned forward. "Don't worry, young hunter," he said. "If you live long enough you'll have ample opportunity to use your bow to show the Family's eligible young women how brave you are."

As the rest of the men in the hut chuckled at Marn's words Makok, sitting in the flickering shadows cast by the fire, shook his head in disbelief at the Patriarch's words. He'd been at Home Canyon when the Clan fought the Eaters. He'd seen the power of the Eaters and the clouds-that-break-mountains. The thought of the Family driving the Eaters off with just bows and arrows was completely unbelievable.

Before this meeting Kerin had asked him to be patient and to keep a low profile. She and his children had faced some ribbing and jeers from others in the Family because of Makok's positions in the Council discussions. It was very obvious that he was disliked by the Patriarch so many hoped to curry Jat's favor by harassing Makok or his family. He knew Jat would be even more furious if he said anything now but Makok couldn't let this idiocy go unanswered.

"The hunters of the Clan didn't drive the Eaters away," he said from his seat. "The Eaters left because they'd killed everyone."

"They didn't kill you," retorted Jat and glared down at him. "They killed those who were fighting them, not those who were hiding." His tone of voice was accusing.

Makok glared right back at the Patriarch. "I wasn't killed because your father ordered me not to participate in the fighting."

Snorts of derision could be heard from several of the men in the hut. Another man near the fire rose to his feet and moved to stand next to Ko. "Makok's telling the truth," Terlon announced through the noise. "Jakto sent me along with specific orders to keep him out of the fighting."

"If they weren't driven off why haven't we seen them since?" asked Dan. "We haven't heard or seen any sign of their flying things. Those in Circle Cliffs or Eagle Clan haven't seen them either."

"It might be that the Eater's haven't been seen because our village and those of our friends are too well hidden," the bow maker replied. "But that doesn't mean they aren't looking. Remember, we didn't have any warning they'd found Home Canyon until they came in the flying things. With their original prey gone our enemy will be or is looking for new victims and will attack once they find it."

"But why?" asked Marn who was sitting next to Makok. "Why would they want to find us?"

"For the same reason they attacked Home Canyon," Makok replied with a shrug of his shoulders and held out his hands. "I have no idea what that might be but it doesn't mean there isn't one. I have no doubt the Eater's are out looking for more people."

Jat and Dan shook their heads in disgust at Makok's words as rude calls and jeers came from the sides of the hut where the younger men stood. Marn didn't participate in the calling of insults but had the appearance of doing some thinking.

The bow maker started to say something more but stopped. Looking around he could see his words would have no effect. "Ko has the right of it," he said instead of what he'd been going to say.

As the Council resumed its deliberations Makok began to think. If the Patriarch and the Elders weren't going to do something to protect the Family he'd have to take steps to protect his wife and children.

The next morning Makok didn't go into the forest to look for branches and limbs that could be fashioned into bow or arrows. Instead, he went around the village talking to the hunters who were still at home. He wanted to know about places that were well hidden or difficult to get into like Circle Cliffs. This new location also had to have water and fertile soil for gardens.

Since it was apparent the bow maker was considering finding a new home most of those he talked with thought the man was wasting his time and had a good laugh. A few remembered the criticism directed at Makok when he first tried to tell people about the value of the bow. They'd learned he was right. Then they considered his warning of the night before and wondered if he might be right again.

When he learned of Makok's efforts to relocate Jat smiled. If anyone asked he'd encourage the Family to assist in Makok's efforts to leave. This was his chance to get rid of an irritant.

The grass that covered the valley floor had greened and was starting to grow indicating spring had come when a young boy named Monet ran through the village shouting and waving his short bow. Makok was at the far end of the cluster of huts, returning from trying out a new bow when he noticed the commotion and hurried to find out what was happening. By the time he reached the Council Hut Monet had disappeared inside with the other Elders. "What's going on?" Makok asked. "What was Monet shouting when he ran in?"

Most of the people crowded around the hut just shrugged their shoulders. But one of the girls sitting near the entrance replied. "Monet said something about hearing or seeing the Eaters flying things."

Makok shook his head. "I told the others the Eater's'd come back but they wouldn't listen," he muttered in disgust and ducked inside the hut.

That night his wife asked what the Elders were going to do about Monet's news. She was interested because everyone in the village had spent the day discussing it. Makok took a bite of the rabbit he'd been roasting over the fire and shrugged. "There isn't much they can do," he replied after swallowing. "They're not sure if it's Eaters in the area or a young boy's over-active imagination. But they're taking action anyway. Guards have been set to watch for any flying things. That should give us ample warning so we can hide in the forest when they come."

Kerin nodded her understanding. "Jat and the other Elders didn't believe Monet," she decided. "But they wanted the Family to think they're doing something about the Eaters. That's why the guards are being set."

Makok gave his wife an approving smile. "I've told you before that you should be on the Council instead of me," he said.

"There's no way I want to put up with those idiots any more that I have to," she replied with a grin of her own. "That's what I've got you for." Then she asked, "since the Elders aren't doing anything constructive what are we going to do?"

"We're going to find a valley of our own and leave," Makok announced. "I haven't found one yet but the trading season is here. Maybe the traders from the other villages will know of a place where we can live in peace." He paused to look over the fire at his wife. "Or I'll go trading. God willing, we'll find a new home before the Eaters find us."

Five days later the first traders of the season arrived from Circle Cliffs. Makok was showing Akhim new arrows with obsidian tips when the man mentioned the Eaters flying things. The bow maker stopped demonstrating how sharp the new stone points were and looked up. "Those things were seen at Circle Cliffs?" he asked. "I thought it was too well hidden. After all, it was only a fluke that we found your village at all."

Akhim shook his head. "We haven't seen them at the valley," the man replied, "but in the hills around. And they were heard not seen. From the sound they didn't appear to be heading for the village and never came near. Because of that the Elders don't think the Eaters or their flying things know where we are or have anything to do with the disappearances."

"Disappearances?" prompted Makok.

"Families go into their huts at night and never come out in the morning."

"Maybe they decided to find another home because the Eaters were getting too close," suggested Makok.

"Although they say there's no danger that was given as the reason by our Elders," agreed the trader, "but I don't believe it."

"Why's that Akhim?"

"Because nothing was taken. Their hides, food, weapons; everything was left. It was like they just walked out and never came back." Akhim grimaced. "There weren't any tracks at all. It's like they sprouted wings and flew away."

Makok shook his head. "You're right. It doesn't fit. If a family was going to leave they'd need weapons and food at least. So what're your Elders doing?"

The trader shrugged his shoulders. "If someone wants to leave they can. But to help the people feel more secure guards have been posted."

The bow maker wasn't the only person in Karg's Family to listen to the tales of the traders. Several other men began talking with Makok about finding a new home for their families.

As the summer continued guards continued to report hearing the sounds of the Eaters flying things coming and going from a distance. But since the things weren't heading towards Grass Valley there was no alarm given. A sense of unease took deep root in Makok and grew with each day he was unable to find a new home. At last he decided to widen his search.

Makok walked along the path that would take his trading party to the Eagle Clan's village. He took a deep breath savoring the smell of pine trees and sage brush. Although he enjoyed traveling this trip was met with mixed emotions. He was glad to miss the squabbling of the other Elders and Jat's constant sniping. And there were the others of the Family that were harassing his wife and children. He hated not being able to bring them with him. The harassment confirmed that it was time to take his family elsewhere. Even if it were another established village.

A shout from Hert who was scouting ahead caught Makok's attention. "Someone's coming!" his friend called back. A moment later he added, "It's the traders from Circle Cliffs."

Everyone in the Makok's trading group took their hands from stone axes and relaxed. Makok glanced around at the surrounding area and shook his head. "Not here," he announced to the others. "And I don't remember seeing a good spot back the way we came." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe Akhim will know of a place."

According to custom when traders met in between villages they stopped and set up camp together to share news and do a little trading. It was fortunate that Akhim had seen a good spot to camp a quarter days walk towards the Eagles.

Makok was sitting next to the campfire warming his hands while waiting to go to bed. Darkness covered the mountains and hid the surrounding forest. The light from the flames illuminated the faces of several men sitting nearby surrounding the fire. No one was talking because they were tired and the day's news had already been discussed. In fact, most of both parties had already climbed under their sleeping furs. He looked up at the cloudless sky to see the stars. A bright sliver of the moon was beginning to emerge over the mountains.

"Full moon," commented Makok breaking the silence. "I'll wake up a couple of times tonight with that shining at me. I'll be glad to get to the Eagles so I can sleep in a hut."

"Not me," replied Akhim who was sitting next to him. "I'm very happy to be away from that place. I couldn't leave Eagle Village soon enough."

"I thought you liked to travel and see new places," said Terlon who was on the other side of Makok.

"I do," replied Akhim, "generally. But while we were at the Eagles the Eaters flying things were heard." He shrugged. "None of the guards saw anything but said the sound was coming a ridge or two away." Akhim looked over at Makok. "I wasn't going to take a chance with those things, even with the bows and arrows."

Makok nodded his agreement.

A day after parting from the Circle Cliff traders Makok and his party from Grass Valley crossed a pass and started to move down into the valley of the Eagle Clan. About halfway down the slope he paused to look around; searching for the guards Akhim had him told about. "Where are they?" he wondered.

"Who?" asked Hert.

"The guards," Makok replied. "They're supposed to be watching."

"They wouldn't be very good if we could see them." Makok turned back to look at Hert.

"Hert's right," added Terlon. "If we can see them the Eaters can also find them."

"But we're not Eaters. They should be able to see that where ever they are," replied Makok. "And because of that the guards won't be worried about an attack. In fact, they should be finding out where we come from and send word to their Elders."

Hert went to reply but stopped when he realized the bow maker was right. He closed his mouth and joined Makok in looking for the Eagle Clan's guards.

Rising high above them on all sides they saw the mountains dotted with thick clumps of trees and shrubs. Further below the traders, a thick strip of lush growth followed the stream on the valley floor. Everything looked peaceful, just like Makok remembered from last summer. Still, a sense of foreboding lay over the valley.

"Let's go," said Makok after he'd scanned the hillsides without finding anyone. "Perhaps when we get to the village we'll get our answers." He resumed walking down the trail with the rest of his party behind. No one said anything but were absorbed in their own thoughts.

The party rounded a small ridge after reaching the valley floor and came to a widening of the canyon where the cluster of huts of the Eagle Clan was in plain view. Makok hurried to a stand of trees which provided concealment and stopped to examine the village. The rest of the men from the Family gathered around.

"Something's wrong," he announced after a moment of watching the scene below. Then before anyone could ask a question he dropped his trading goods under a tree, strung his bow, and headed for the village keeping to what cover he could find.

Terlon dropped his own packs and ran to stop Makok. "If you go sneaking in like this you're asking to be filled with arrows," he warned.

Makok shook off the hand. "The huts are just like I remember from last year, near the small stream," he said and pointed. "See the streamers of smoke coming from the huts?" Terlon nodded as he looked and Makok continued. "The sun's high in the sky. People should be out tending their gardens, children playing, men hunting. So where are they?"

Terlon looked again at the huts then at the sky, checking the sun. "You're right Makok. There ought to be people out. This is not right."

Makok dashed across another clearing and paused just inside the last clump of trees before reaching the village. The others of the trading party joined him after leaving their own loads of trade goods behind. From the shelter of the trees Makok took a moment to scan the huts and the area around for any indication of life. But only small streamers of smoke rising from the huts wafted by the wind could be seen.

"Maybe the Eater's've been here leaving everyone asleep with their bad air," suggested Hert.

Makok gave a slow nod. That would explain the absence of people. "It doesn't fit," he said after a moments thought. "If the people were asleep or hiding we'd've met someone on the way in. The guards would have warned us away or come to us for help and they haven't."

"So, is everyone in the huts?" wondered Din as he tried to watch everywhere at once. This was his first time away from Grass Valley. "Or did they run away?"

Although he couldn't see any danger Makok slipped his bow over his head and one shoulder where he could carry it strung. After making sure his quiver and arrows were secure he pulled his stone axe from its leather thong. "Have your bows ready!" he ordered his men then took off at a run across the wide meadow to the nearest hut.

Ignoring the usual niceties like asking for permission he whipped aside the entry hide and ducked inside to look around. His axe was held ready to strike but there was no need. There was no one inside.

Placed around the hut were the standard family properties of furs, pots, and weapons. Everything was lying as if the family had prepared for the night and then left. He moved to the center of the hut and held a hand over the smoldering fire. Although the ashes were still warm, it hadn't been tended for some time.

Leaving the hut he went to another checking the ground along the way. But there weren't any footprints anywhere. He couldn't even find those left by the Eagle Clan from the night before. It was as if a strong wind had swept all marks away.

The feeling came that the Eaters were involved returned and he remembered Akhim saying that the flying things had been heard nearby. He glanced around. His eyes darting from huts to groves of trees or clumps of boulders; anything that would shield an enemy. There was nothing unusual to be seen.

Makok continued to go from hut to hut searching for some sign of what happened. He was leaving the fifth hut when Terlon and Hert walked over to him. "We've searched the other huts, the corrals, and the gardens," Terlon reported. "There's nothing here but their animals."

The bow maker looked up at the surrounding mountains and his unease changed to fear. "There's nothing more we can learn or do here," he said. Gesturing at the deserted village he said, "there's definitely nothing we can do for the Eagle Clan. They're gone! Turn the animals loose from the corrals so they have a chance to get food and water on their own. Then get the rest of the party to gather our goods and meet on the trail leading to the pass. We're going home."

"Home?" asked Hert. "We have other villages to trade with."

Makok shook his head. "Not anymore," he replied. "Our Elders need to hear of an entire village disappearing so we're going home." He paused and looked around before speaking again. "There's one last place I want to check so be ready to leave when I get back."

Hert and Terlon exchanged looks. "I'll release the animals," Terlon offered. "You get the others." Hert gave an acknowledging nod and moved off to get the others ready. Makok turned once more to look at the village willing the huts and dirt to speak, to tell him what had happened to its people. But all he saw were empty huts. The only sound came from a quiet rustle of leaves caused by the slight breeze and the soft trickle of water falling coming from the nearby creek. The bow maker took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. "Maybe there'll be something at the stream," he muttered and started off through the village.

On his way he looked for any place where the Eater's flying things could have landed. There were several areas that seemed level and large enough but a quick search of each one revealed nothing. Everything had been swept clean.

As he left the cluster of empty huts and walked towards the stream Makok's face took on a thoughtful expression. There were only two reasons he could think of to explain the deserted village. One was that the Eaters had been here and taken everyone. He gave a brief shake of his head to reject the idea. The Eater's flying things were very noisy and the guards would've warned the village. Besides if the Eaters were involved the men of Eagle Clan would've fought.

The other alternative was that the people had found another place to live. One that didn't require the people to take weapons for hunting or protection. One that was warm all the time and had plenty of food. Makok shook his head again. He doubted that such a place existed. There was always danger where ever one went.

This was crazy, he thought with a wry grin. He'd just ruled out both alternatives that explained the disappearance of an entire village. And that wasn't possible! In addition, there was still his feeling that the Eaters were involved.

Once Makok reached the stream he glanced around the near bank, looking for any sign of the Eaters. Water trickled and splashed down its course, over rocks and fallen logs then making its way around trees and boulders. Birds calling and the noise of insects mixed with the sounds of water creating a peaceful atmosphere in complete opposition to the turmoil Makok felt.

A call disturbed his search and he turned back to see his people ready at the far end of the village. From their talking among themselves and glances at the mountainsides he could tell they were as anxious to leave as he was.

He gave one last look around before turning to leave and...stopped! There were footprints in the drying mud of the opposite bank. This was it!

He splashed across the stream but was careful not to disturb the mud of the far bank. After a few heartbeats he gave a furtive look up at the mountains and then called for the rest of his party to come see what he'd found. This was the proof he had been looking for. There, outlined in the mud, were the markings of the Eaters.

# Chapter 12

As he walked down the path towards home Makok reached up to adjust the pack on his right shoulder so it rode higher. In shifting that pack the one on his left shoulder slipped off. He was able to catch it before it hit the ground without dropping anything else. Makok was carrying the two packs because he'd sent Hert on ahead to alert the Patriarch and the Elders of what they'd found at the Eagle Clan.

The sun had gone down a short while ago and the day was fading fast now. That meant full night wasn't far off. Looking up through the trees he saw a few of the brightest stars were starting to appear in the blackening sky. Normally, he'd've had his trading party make camp for the night but he wouldn't this time. They were so close to home and family that no one wanted to stop.

Moving both packs to a single shoulder Makok increased his pace to a trot. Behind him the rest of the trading party followed suit. Although he'd been on the move since early this morning and was exhausted the sights and smells of home beckoned. The closeness of family always brought a new spring to his step.

A slight smile crossed his lips as he trotted down the path. His wife wouldn't be expecting him home for another two weeks. He could imagine the surprise on Kerin's face when he walked into their hut. But now that he thought about it he regretted sending Hert ahead. Kerin'd know he was coming because Hert would tell her.

The men of the trading party continued the easy but fast pace. They left the side canyon and moved onto the soft meadow grass of the main valley. Home was just moments away now. Above them the sky darkened and more stars began to appear. Horses nickered and snorted while men guarding the herd called out greetings as the trading party ran past.

Leaving the grove of trees which was just outside the village Makok saw that a large fire had been set on the commons near the Council Hut and most of the Family was there. He guessed that meant Hert had arrived early enough to deliver his message to the Patriarch and the Elders. He gave a slight shake of his head. There went any chance of surprising Kerin. The bow maker slowed to a walk to catch his breath.

Moments later Makok's trading party entered the circle of light created by the fire and were inundated by questions or smothered with hugs from family members. Makok spotted his wife and children in the crowd and hurried over. He didn't care what happened to the trade goods in the packs when he dropped them in his hurry to wrap Kerin in his arms. After a long, lingering kiss he released his wife to hug and tickle each of his children.

"What's this Hert tells us about the Eagle Clan?" The Patriarch had come over to where Makok was reuniting with his family. His attitude was condescending and the tone of his voice, accusing. "A whole village doesn't disappear."

Before Makok could reply another voice asked, "What about the Eaters?"

The bow maker picked up Kim, his youngest child, and turned to face the Council of Elders. Makok's two other children, Mak and Rin, disappeared into the crowd to find their friends.

"I told them everything we saw!" explained Hert from behind the Patriarch. "But they wouldn't believe me."

A large number of the Family had followed the Elders and gathered around to listen to the discussion. Children excited with all the commotion ran through the crowd playing tag using the adults as obstacles. Their shrieks and squeals added to the din of conversations.

"Quiet!" yelled Jat then glared at Makok. A moment later the noise level dropped slightly. "Well?" the Patriarch prompted. "What's this about?"

Makok looked at Hert. "You told them?" he asked as he picked up the man's pack with the hand that wasn't holding Kim and handed it to him. Hert nodded, taking the pack. "Everything?" Hert nodded again.

The bow maker looked back to the Patriarch. "Well?" prompted Jat again.

Makok still didn't reply to the Patriarch but handed his youngest daughter to his wife. "Take the kids home," he told Kerin. "I'll join you there after I finish here." A concerned look flashed on Kerin's face then disappeared. He gave her a quick smile and reached out to give her right arm a soft squeeze. "Don't worry, I won't be cause too many problems." Kerin nodded, took Kim from him and left to round up Mak and Rin.

Then Makok turned his attention back to the Patriarch. From the jaw muscles twitching he could tell the man was incensed at having to wait. "I asked you a question," Jat growled through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you did," replied Makok in a calm voice, "but you don't want to hear the answer."

Dan started to chastise Makok but the bow maker held up a hand to stop the Elder. "Hert told you we found the Eagle village empty," Makok began. Still standing behind the Patriarch Hert nodded in emphasis. "He told you it was like the people inside the huts had left their huts never to return leaving everything they owned." He gestured. "Just like the disappearances Akhim reported at Circle Cliffs. In fact we met Akhim a day's walk from the Eagles village and he told us that the flying things had been heard near the Eagles."

"No one was in the huts? They were gone?" asked a voice from the crowd. "But their things were still there?" It was too dark for Makok to tell who'd spoken.

"That's what we found at Nat's hut," called a woman amid a growing commotion.

"Quiet!" yelled Jat again. When the noise subsided enough the Patriarch prompted Makok to continue.

Makok shrugged his shoulders. "We checked every hut," he said, "and every hut was the same."

"But what about the Eaters?" asked Dan.

"I told you we found the Eater's tracks along the stream bed," said Hert.

"I saw them as well!" added Terlon, who was standing nearby. He waved at the others of the trading party. "We all did!" The men who'd arrived with Makok nodded their agreement.

"That's it?" asked Jat. "Tracks?" He threw up his arms in exasperation. "You cut short a trading mission and cause all this fear and commotion for a few tracks?" His voice reflected derision for Makok's decision.

Makok looked at Jat. "I told you that if you didn't believe Hert you wouldn't believe me. Think what you want but my family will be leaving tomorrow."

"Leaving?" snorted Jat and held out his arms. "Where will you go? You said the Eagles are gone and there's a problem at Circle Cliffs. There's no where else to go! So where will you go?" he repeated.

"I don't know," Makok replied. "But we're not staying here. Now, it's been a long day and I'm exhausted. I'm going to my hut where I can get some sleep."

With that said Makok picked up his pack and shouldered his way through the people surrounding the Elders. As he made his way through the crowd the bow maker ignored the questions that were shouted at him.

When he pushed through the entry hide of his hut Makok found his family waiting. All three children looked up from what they were doing to see who'd come in. "You were right," his wife said as she added a piece of wood to the small fire in the center of the hut. "It didn't take you very long to get done." Kerin looked up at her husband. "So, was it the Eaters?"

Makok nodded. "I think so," he replied and settled down next to her. "Hert, Terlon; everyone saw tracks made by Eaters at the creek."

"So what do the Elders think?"

"They're not!"

Kerin gave a sharp look at her husband. She'd never heard that defeated tone in his voice before. "They're not what?" she asked.

"They're not thinking," he replied. "They won't admit the Eaters were involved in the Eagles disappearance. And they can't see the danger we're in." Makok shook his head and waved a hand towards the commons. "I heard from someone at the fire that Nat and his family disappeared overnight?" Kerin nodded. "And they left their furs, weapons and food?" Kerin nodded again.

Makok sighed and sank back against the huts hide covered wall. "Then the Eaters are already here," he said. "And they're taking people." He shook his head. "I just don't know how or why."

"What are we going to do?" Kerin asked. She relaxed back onto her heels as she watched her husband.

Makok moved closer to the fire with a decisive air. "We're leaving first thing tomorrow morning," he announced.

"We're leaving!" Mak's excited voice cut into the conversation. "All of us?" he asked and scooted closer to his father.

Makok looked down into the boy's eager face. "All of us," he replied and reached over to tousle his sons hair. "Now, it's time for bed. You'll need to be well rested for the long journey ahead."

Mak went to protest but his mother intervened. "Don't argue with your father," she said. "He's been on these trips before and knows what we need. In fact, it's such a good idea we're all going to bed." That announcement brought groans from the rest of the children.

"But we're too excited to sleep," said Rin, the oldest daughter.

"No arguing," said Makok in stern tones. "Everyone get ready for bed."

Ignoring their complaining and arguing Kerin and Makok shepherded the children through their night time routine. After making nature calls, getting drinks of water, saying prayers and giving hugs the children were laying down covered by their sleeping furs. Moments later they were asleep.

Makok gazed at the sleeping forms. He reached out and took one of his wife's hands. "That was quick," he said. "I don't ever remember Mak falling asleep like that."

Kerin nodded her agreement. "Or any of the others for that matter. I thought they were too excited but..." She shrugged and gave a sly grin as she leaned over to kiss her husband. "This just gives us some time alone."

Makok lay on his back, arms to his side and legs straight. A slow, regular breathing indicated the man was sleeping not dead. Then a finger on his right hand twitched, the left leg jerked. Moments later a low groan was heard. He raised his left arm and rested it on his forehead. "Wha...?" he mumbled and groaned again, his eyelids fluttered. In one explosive movement he sat up, eyes wide, heart pounding.

"Of all the stupid," he cursed and looked around expecting to see the sleeping forms of his family lying nearby. "We should... What's this?" he asked and climbed to his feet, staggering just a little.

Another look around confirmed that he was anywhere but in his own hut. And he wasn't alone. The prostrate forms of villagers surrounded those of his family. A quick count showed almost everyone in Karg's Family was in this place with him. Everyone but Jat or the other Elders of the Council. A closer look revealed another disturbing fact: All the elderly were gone.

Turning in a slow circle he took note of the area. It was a very strange place they were in. The walls looked more like rock than wood or hide. They were smooth, not rough like the rocks in the cave of Home Canyon. He looked down at the floor which was definitely not dirt. Nor was it rock.

Everything was white! The only colors in the room other than white came from the brown and black furs worn by Karg's family. Where the roof should have been was what looked like another wall dotted with many small suns. The suns weren't as bright as the real sun but they still gave him spots in the eyes if he looked at them long enough.

"I was home," he muttered. "I was in my hut with..." Makok let the sentence drift off. "How did we get here?" he wondered. Then his eyes widened as he remembered and he looked down at the still forms of his wife and children.

"Oh no!" breathed Makok and dropped to his knees. With a silent prayer he put an ear to his wife's chest. He held his breath while listening for a heartbeat. A moment later he gave a sigh or relief and rocked back on his knees. "She's just sleeping," he whispered. He checked his children to make sure they were all breathing.

"Thank God, they're all right," he said and looked around again. "Everyone's got to be all right. But where are we?

"It's obvious we're not in a hut," he continued talking to himself as he continued examining the room. "I've never seen a hut large enough for an entire village to fit in. Only Home Cave was large like this. But this isn't a cave either. The walls are too smooth and regular and white." He stopped and turned his head, re-examining the whole area again. "There are no openings."

His wife groaned and rolled off her back onto her right side. He was beside her immediately. "Kerin? Kerin?" he called softly. "It's Makok. Wake up."

She groaned again, her eyes opened then she rolled over onto her back again. "Is it morning?" she asked as she stretched.

Her sinuous movements still reminded Makok of the young woman he'd taken for his wife so many years ago. "I don't know," he answered. "I can't see the sky. All I know is that we're not in our hut."

When her husband's words registered Kerin jerked to a sitting position, eyes glancing about, never resting on anything for very long. "How did we get here?"

Makok shrugged his shoulders and placed a hand on one of hers. "I have no idea but I'm just hoping we find out soon. I'm starting to get hungry!"

Kerin smiled and reached over to give her husbands cheek a soft caress. "Poor Makok," she said in a teasing tone. "We'll have to feed you soon or there'll be no living with you. Now give me a hand up!"

Makok moved to help his wife to her feet then stopped. He looked around at the assembly spread out around them then shook his head. "Let's wake our kids first and have them help us get the rest of the Family together."

"But why us?" asked Kerin. "Why aren't the Elders..."

Makok hushed his wife and they began waking their children.

It wasn't long before they had all of Karg's family awake and gathered in a noisy circle centered on Makok's family. When he was sure everyone was completely awake Makok gave his wife a confident smile than held out his hands to quiet the crowd. "I don't know how long we have until whoever brought us here comes back," he called over the noise of many conversations and cries of children. "I have no idea who's taken us from our village or how they did it but until we find out we need to take steps to protect ourselves. This is wh..."

"Why should we listen to you?" shouted someone from the back. "You're not the Patriarch." A few other people echoed the protesters words.

"Look around!" retorted Makok and gestured to encompass the room. "Do you see Jat anywhere? What about Dan or Marn? It seems I'm the only member of the Council here! In fact, do you see any of our elderly at all?" He paused for a few heartbeats to let his people confirm that what he'd said was true then began again before anyone else could speak. "Whoever did this is trying to keep us off balance hoping we'll be confused when they return." He gestured at a man in the front row. "Do you have a plan to protect your family, Vil, if it's the Eaters who come in?" A stunned silence greeted Makok's words. Even the children quieted down as they sensed their parent's unease.

A moment later a woman spoke up to cut through the silence. "Why shouldn't Makok lead?" she asked. "He warned the Elders months ago we needed to find a new home. He even began looking but most of us laughed at him." She gestured at Makok. "He was right! So why shouldn't he lead now?" A few mutterings of agreement were heard and no protests.

"All right!" Makok said nodding. "Since that's settled here's what we do."

Those tasked to examine their prison for a way out were about halfway around the walls of the strange hut when those assigned to keep watch noticed something happening. A portion of the wall was moving; it was opening. At their shout Karg's family scurried back to form a large group in the center of the large open space.

Makok glanced around to gauge his people's readiness and nodded. Women and children were placed inside the protective outer ring of men and older boys. Everyone was ready, poised for a fight. His people were as prepared to face the unknown as he could get them.

After giving Kerin a reassuring smile the bow maker moved through the Family to stand in the front ranks nearest the opening. "This approach could be a ruse to draw our attention away from the real threat," he called loud enough so everyone could hear. "Keep watch on the walls in front of you."

A lone man dressed in strange, many colored clothes walked into the room through the opening and the wall closed behind him. He crossed the floor until he was a short distance from the defensive circle then stopped to look over the formation. "Who's your Elder?" he called. No one answered although a few people looked at Makok. "Who set your positions?" the man persisted. "You must have an Elder."

Makok moved away from the circle to face the newcomer and let the ranks close behind him. "I set the positions" he announced. "And they'll stay that way until we know where we are and if we're safe."

"Makok!" exclaimed the man and moved a couple of steps closer. "You were always quick with new ideas. I should have expected you to organize Karg's Family."

Now that he was closer Makok got a better look at the man and thought he recognized him from visits to Circle Cliffs.

"Seantim?" he asked as he squinted in the unusual light. "Is that really you? You look different."

The man smiled and nodded. "It's the clothes," he replied then ran a hand across his chin. "And the shave. The Kthpok don't go for beards. They don't think it's sanitary."

Makok was intrigued by the unknown words but decided he had more important things to learn. "Where are we?" he wondered and gestured at the room. "What is this place? And who or what are the Kthpok?"

Seantim drew himself up to make his announcement. "You're in the L'Khast Education Center and you've been brought here to be educated." His voice was pitched to be heard by everyone in the room.

Makok glanced over his shoulder at his people but he could see they didn't recognize the word either. "Educated? What is 'educated'?"

"A tour of the Education Village you'll be living in has been arranged," continued their host ignoring Makok's questions. "I know you're hungry. You'll be fed at the end of the tour."

Seantim walked around the Family still in their defensive circle then came back to Makok. "There are too many people here for one tour," he said. "Please separate your people into three parts. The first part will come with me now."

"You still haven't answered my questions," reminded Makok. "We don't move until we know if we're in danger."

"The tour will answer your questions and you'll see for yourself that there's no danger." The bow maker still looked doubtful so Seantim leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "There's really no danger," he repeated. "I know. I've been here for quite a while. We've traded before and I've always been honest with you. Haven't I?"

Makok looked over their host. After a moments thought he nodded. "You've never led me wrong before so I'll trust you now. My family and I will go in the first group," he said.

# Epilogue

Abbel finished reading the history and picked up the last yellowed page. He examined it for a moment, checking its texture and feel. It was obviously very old. Then he turned the paper face down and placed it on the untidy mess of pages he'd already read. The young man glanced up at his father. "That's quite the story," he said. "Or set of stories. How long ago was this supposed to have happened?"

"Several hundred years at least," Teral replied. "That'd make it six or seven generations ago and it did happen."

The young man thought for a minute then shook his head. "It's hard to believe because it goes against what we're taught in school. Someone must've had a really good imagination," he said and shrugged his shoulders. "Though I've seen more exciting stories on the vid."

Teral reached down to the table and began rearranging the leaves of paper into a neater pile. Then, he picked up the stack, tapped it on the table and used his hands to pat the errant pages into place. "I imagine another reason it's hard for you to believe because it's not like the movies you watch which have the desperate hero saving the day at the last minute?" he asked. Looking over he saw his son smiling and nodding. Then the older man continued. "Those are pretty melodramatic and, I have to admit, the special effects are impressive but there's a difference here." Teral paused for a moment then held up the pages for Abbel to see. "This is real life. What you're taught in school and seeing on the vid is pure propaganda," he said and shrugged. "The kind of propaganda where a Kthpok always resolves the problem in the knick of time despite interference from a bumbling but well-meaning human sidekick."

The admiral snorted in disgust. "Our Masters present us with the illusion that we're dependent on them. That's the propaganda. Real life is the other way around. Humans are the one's who're doing the work and solving the problems. They Kthpok are dependent on us!"

Teral took the neat stack of papers and placed them back into their protective holder. He took meticulous care to not fold, tear or crumple any of the pages. "This is our most precious legacy," he said as he made sure the ends of the holder were secure.

After he was satisfied his treasure was secure Teral turned to his son. "Now, do you remember what I told you before you began reading?" Abbel pursed his lips as he thought back. "How safe is it?" Teral prompted.

The young man gave a silent ooh then a puzzled look appeared on his face. "But why?" Abbel asked and nodded at the package his father held. "Why would the Kthpok kill anyone who has or reads these stories? There isn't anything in there that's treasonous or dangerous."

"That's a good question," replied Teral, nodding his approval. "The reason the Kthpok will execute publicly anyone who has knowledge of what's on these papers is that it exposes their myth of rescuing the poor human animal from extinction. See, they want us thinking we're dependent on them which prevents any thoughts of freedom. But, as you can see, humanity was very capable of taking care of itself before the Kthpok came into the picture." The admiral shrugged. "We weren't going extinct, we were prospering and growing. That's what the Kthpok'd consider treason."

Teral left the table carrying the packet of papers and headed towards the back of the room. He walked past the rows of shelves to the last aisle. His son followed in silence for a few minutes then asked, "but how do you know those stories are true? Maybe what's on those papers is the propaganda."

Teral smiled back at his son. "I was a little older and taller than you are now when my father brought me here to read this history," he replied and shrugged. "In fact, I had the same question and it seems my answer to you will be the same as what he told me then.

"Your grandfather said, 'I got that history from my father who got it from his father and he from his father.'" Teral looked over his shoulder at Abbel and smiled. "That line of the history being passed from father to son is unbroken all the way back to Makok who experienced and recorded what you've read. You're a direct descendant of Makok and Karg." Teral turned back to watch where he was walking. "My father did not lie to me then and I don't lie to you now. Each of our father's has testified that this history is true."

Teral waved the packet he was carrying and turned down the last row of bookshelves. "You see here that humanity was doing just fine before the Kthpok 'wardship' began. We were at peace with each other trading between villages. It was the Kthpok or the Eaters that we feared and fought." The admiral's shoulders reflected his sigh. "We still trade today but now it's with lasers, bombs and death instead of hides, pots, and food."

Teral reached the end of the row. Abbel watched in silence while his father returned the packet to the top shelf then stood back to make sure the precious bundle was inconspicuous. Stepping forward once more, Teral moved the packet further back on the shelf. After checking once more, the admiral nodded in satisfaction.

With their true history hidden in plain view Teral led the way back through the room. The father and son walked down the main aisle and through the tables and computer consoles heading for the exit.

Before the door sensors could be triggered by their proximity Teral stopped and turned to his son. Placing both hands on Abbel's shoulders he looked into the young man's eyes then said, "what you've read, this history, is important to our people. Most don't know of their heritage and seem content to endure life as property to the Kthpok. But it's a tenuous life, contingent on a Kthpok's whim. The few of us who do know of our beginnings have the duty and obligation to keep that knowledge alive and secret."

"But what good is this knowledge if most of the people don't know?" wondered Abbel. "Since it's so dangerous why don't you just drop those papers into an incinerator. That'll remove any danger to you, mom or the rest of us of discovery or reprisal."

"The danger would be gone, that's true," agreed Teral. "But our people would be ignorant of their beginnings, of what they'd lost. They'd have no reason to question their slavery. At least this way we who know can work and prepare to regain our freedom." A fierce look came over the admiral's face. He gave his son a little shake then dropped his hands to his sides. "That's the obligation and duty I...we have to find a way to free our people." Teral took a deep breath before continuing. "And if what I hear coming is true that opportunity may not be far off."

Abbel perked up at his father's words. "We can be free?" he asked. "Just like Makok? To go where and when they want?"

Teral gave a brief smile. "See what knowing your history does?" he asked. Then he nodded. "There's a possibility but there's danger.

"Now, if anything happens to me this history must be protected."

A look of dismay came over Abbel's face. "No!" he protested, shaking his head. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

Teral gave a slight smile. "There's no guarantees in life, son," he replied. "Only God knows when our time's over. That and the whims of our masters. So, if something should happen to me you must come here and take the manuscript. Guard and treasure it for the day we walk free. Okay?"

After Abbel gave a curt nod Teral turned and moved for the door. He stopped when his son asked," will I get a chance to help?" The door sensors noted the two men's approach and the panel slid open in a soft hiss of air.

"For this to work," said Teral, "all humanity'll have to help." Then he walked through the door to begin the fight for humanities freedom.

