 
The Culling

Published by Kerry A. Duff at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 Kerry A. Duff
The Culling

By Kerry Duff

Chapter One

One scream broke the mild spring morning before the violent clamor of armored men and horse-drawn carts drowned out all else. Now there was only the sound of men calling out orders, the impatient clatter of the horses, and then the cries of each victim as they were lifted from the ground and thrown into the carts.

Corlu risked a look through the tangled curtain of her hair. She was lucky. She was on the outskirts of the group, lying face down where the mound gradually fell away to the marshes. Others, closer to the mud track, were not so fortunate; like the small child they had just taken. He screamed for his mother, but was silenced with a single blow.

A group of men moved in Corlu's direction. She took a sharp intake of breath and looked down, closing her eyes and willing the men to move elsewhere. Please, she prayed. Please let them pick another.

She waited, feeling the wet spring grass beneath her hands and the rough mud under her left knee. The feel of it only heightened the strangeness. This could not be happening to her—not on such an ordinary day.

The men drew closer and grabbed a woman a few yards ahead of her. Two of them dragged her to a nearby cart while another continued his search. He moved forward, prodding bodies with his foot, as he made his decision. Corlu could smell him now-—a rotten odor of stale sweat and animal flesh. He called out an order in his harsh guttural tongue and then turned back in her direction.

A feeling of panic spiraled up through her body. She could run-- jump to her feet and head to the marshes. But where was she to go? The men would easily catch her before she made it to the flats, and, all around in every other direction, were the bare and empty hills, offering no place to hide, no safe haven. She forced herself to control the panic, even as the man moved closer.

Suddenly Corlu felt the weight of his gaze and knew she was next. Fear took hold of her body. She was no longer sure whether she was keeping still or shaking and whimpering in terror. Helpless, she watched his boots as they now strode purposefully towards her. She was caught. His hands were on her shoulders, turning her over. A face full of blood, filth, and cruelty; matted blonde hair and red-rimmed eyes. The face of a nightmare.

Suddenly the horns sounded the alarm. The man held on to her for a moment, hesitating, and then dropped her, and ran off.

Corlu lay motionless, listening to the blasts that came from the carts. They signaled her release. The Clacamash came and took whomever they wanted, whenever they wanted, but they too feared an enemy stronger and more fearful than themselves. None knew who or what this was, but it was always the same. The Culling ended when the Clacamash had garnered enough victims or when they blew their horns and departed as quickly as they had come.

When the cry of the birds calling to each other through the reeds was the only sound in the morning quiet, Corlu rolled over, staring up into the pale blue sky, and then watched as the others rose shakily to their feet. Like them she was free. Free to once more paddle slowly through the channels left by low tide, to listen to the sharp song of the migrating Liathen. Free to return home and share the midday meal with her family. Free to resume the small chores of everyday life. Free.

But could she return, knowing that while she had escaped this time, in a few years, she might not be so lucky? To the north and east lay the Clacamash settlements, to the west was the water, and to the south spread the Remains where none ventured. There was no way out.

Freedom was a lie.
Chapter Two

The galla nuts were abundant this spring. Corlu groaned as she paddled around the corner and came across a bush half dragged into the water by the weight of the glossy round spheres. She was hungry and wanted to get back for the evening meal, but she couldn't leave such a find. The nuts from this one bush would more than fill up the woven basket that lay at the bottom of her brachen and would provide meals for a month or more. Besides, she had to set a good example for the younger ones.

She could hear them giggling and splashing behind her, and she called to them, trying to infuse some severity into her voice.

"Mari, Selma, come around here and help me."

"We're not done with this one yet," her sister called back through the reeds that separated them. More giggles followed.

"Hurry up then!"

Corlu winced at the nagging element in her voice. She sounded just like Old Man Keal. She tried to pass it off as irritability caused by an empty stomach, but deep down she knew she had been jumpy and short-tempered ever since . . . ever since the Culling, she said to herself firmly. She was not going to forget what had happened. That was what the rest of the village seemed intent on doing, but she couldn't, not any longer.

How strange, she thought, that she'd never questioned the silence that dominated the village after each Culling. Like everyone else she had learned to ignore the gaps where neighbor or friend used to be. One perhaps offered some subtle sympathy--a meaningful glance or a food offering left outside the home where grief had struck--but one never openly recognized what had happened. One never even spoke their name—the Clacamash.

The Culling was part of life, and silence was the way it was addressed. This was the way it had always been done. Corlu knew that it helped the village to keep going, but she couldn't forget. Just when she had begun to sink back into her routine, images of that morning would come flooding into her mind, filling her with fear and panic. She woke up from nightmares every night, covered in sweat and unsure where she was. Yesterday evening, she had caught sight of herself in the still water near the dock. Her skin, usually a soft brown color, had seemed mushroom pale, and her dark green eyes lay shadowed, almost black. The reflection had disturbed her more than the nightmares.

Pushing the image away, Corlu returned to the job at hand. From the other side of the clump of bushes she heard snippets of the children's conversation. They were talking about the Clacamash.

"But why do they come for us? What do they want?"

Corlu recognized the voice. It was Kilean, a little girl of five, who was really too young to be out here in the outlying marshes.

Her brother Tonn instantly replied: "Because of the mines, stupid! They need slaves to work in the mines underground. If you're captured, you work there till you die."

"That's not what I heard," piped up another voice. "I heard my mother talking to my aunt. She said they kill them because of the Beast. It orders them to make sacrifices."

"There's no Beast," interrupted Tonn.

"No, it's true. They take them to a cave and then cut their throats, so the blood runs out everywhere."

Corlu paddled forward quickly to intervene. The children would be frightened tonight in the dark, especially Mari, but then she stopped herself, remembering what Ana had said about being too protective of her younger sister. She's not as strong as you, Corlu, but she has to grow her own way. She can't always shelter under your branches.

Corlu bit her lip. The children had moved on to even more gruesome stories about the Clacamash and why they returned every few years to cull the villagers.

"My sister says they kill the ones they capture and eat them. Her friend's brother saw one of them eating a bird at the last Culling. They eat flesh. He saw them!"

The pronouncement was met by an astonished silence. This last idea was the theory that was most often secretly discussed amongst the adults, at least when it was discussed. She remembered the disbelief and horror with which she had first heard that the Clacamash ate the flesh of animals. It was an easy jump therefore to the horrifying notion that hunger lay behind the Cullings.

Leaving the galla bush half-covered in nuts, Corlu swiftly turned the brachen and paddled around the corner of the large clump of reeds. As she had expected, the children had finished picking the last of the nuts and were simply idling the afternoon away.

"It's time to go," she said curtly and began moving back along the channel.

Throwing their baskets down, the children eagerly pushed off and followed her, happy to be done with chores.

The tide was slowly moving in, so it was easy paddling. Birds sang in the bushes and flew back and forth across the water, intent on the spring work of nesting. Up on one of the mud flats, a group of herons stood like sentinels, their feathers ruffled by the breeze.

Periodically checking the children behind her, Corlu paddled out of the narrow channel into the bay. The village lay in front of her along the shoreline. It was the southernmost village, but looked much the same as its sisters to the north. Round wooden houses rose out of the green and yellow reeds on poles, connected to each other by a maze of wood and rope bridges. These were the residential quarters, placed above the waterline to avoid the winter's chilling damp. Further out into the water lay other structures built upon small islands, both natural and artificial. These too were connected by the system of bridges, although people just as often used their brachens and paddled from one to the other.

Corlu propelled the brachen through the tiny canals until she reached the sun-weathered meal house where she could drop off the bags of nuts. Across the water came the screams and laughter of a group of small children racing from one house to another, the rhythmic thud of an axe, and the clatter of food preparation. The scent of wood smoke and cooking overlay the ever-present smell of mud, wet leafs, and the salt tang of the sea.

Jumping lightly up onto the platform, she tied up the boat and then helped the others.

A tall woman came out to greet them.

"Quite a haul," she said. "I can always count on you to bring in what we need."

Corlu smiled up at her, pleased with the small compliment. Ana had been Corlu's mother's closest friend and had helped Corlu's grandfather to raise her and Mari when their parents had been taken.

The older woman turned to the others with a quick movement and scanned their baskets. "Not much here, Tonn. What were you doing out there?"

Tonn had the grace to look ashamed and tried to make himself useful by carrying in the baskets of nuts.

"All right, everyone. Here's your share." Ana handed a small handful of the nuts to each child. While meals were usually communal, the morning meal took place within each family dwelling, and thus each gatherer was given a small percentage of what they had foraged.

Corlu stuffed the nuts in her front pocket. "I'll see you at the Council tonight?"

"Yes," Ana answered brusquely. For a brief moment a look of weariness swept across her face, and then it was gone. "I'll see you there."

\- - -

Council meetings were held every month in order to discuss village business and to resolve disputes. While all adults were entitled to a voice, the counselors made the final decisions.

Corlu looked forward to these evenings. Even when there were matters of importance to discuss, a festive air hung over the proceedings. A special late meal was prepared, and people used the time as a chance to catch up on news with neighbors and old friends. Children were allowed to attend as long as they sat quietly, but most of them crept outside to play.

Tonight, the large, domed meeting hall was crowded long before the council was to begin. Laughter and the clamor of a hundred loud voices filled the air. Children ran back and forth across the empty space in the middle of the building.

Corlu sat with her grandfather and Mari. Her grandfather was speaking with their neighbors, Tonn's parents, about the best way to repair an old roof. Corlu was only half listening. She was scanning the crowd, noting who was missing. Some of the families who had lost relatives in the Clacamash's latest raid were not that well known to her, but the woman who had lost her child, Shean, belonged to a family who lived nearby. Their entire family was absent, as was the custom.

Corlu tried to imagine their grief. How did you get over having your child ripped from your arms, to be hurt, killed, or worse? She felt sick at the thought. Did nobody else care? She looked around at the laughing faces and felt even sicker. The indifference was like a sharp slap in the face.

Corlu turned her head and then suddenly jerked back. Lian, Tonn's older brother, had sat down next to her and was obviously waiting for an answer to a question she hadn't heard. His dark brown eyes searched hers.

"Corlu, did you hear me? Are you upset?"

Corlu felt stupid. For Lian to notice that something was wrong, she must have been extremely unguarded in her expression. He was a childhood friend, but they weren't close, at least not since they had grown up.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, twisting a coil of rough brown hair behind her ear.

"Didn't seem like it. You've been sitting next to me for ten minutes and haven't said a word. And you've been staring at everyone else as if they smell like rotten adjuni beans."

Corlu attempted to laugh, but it came out like a choking cough.

"Was it the Culling?" Lian asked after an awkward pause.

Now it was Corlu's time to stare. People didn't mention the raids unless they were forced to. Lian's words struck her as profane, and yet something in Corlu responded to them.

She looked up fiercely, as if willing him to challenge her. "I was just thinking how strange it all is that everything goes on as usual—as if nothing happened, as if it'll never happen again."

There was another second of silence between them in which Corlu had time to regret what she had said. Now he would think she was odd or simply scared, but his words surprised her. "I know. I know what you mean."

Corlu looked back into his eyes, trying to figure him out before she committed herself, but the words unleashed an avalanche of unexpressed thoughts, thoughts she had been longing to share with someone. "So why don't we speak of it? Perhaps if we talked about it, we could come up with some way to deal with it. There has to be a way. Why don't we leave, go someplace else?"

She shook her head angrily. "But, of course, nobody will mention it. Even tonight, when it only happened a few days ago, they won't talk about it." Corlu stopped, feeling stupid, and stared down at her knees.

Lian leaned forward. "I think it's strange that we all avoid speaking of it, but I don't see that we can ever change it. The Culling's a part of life."

"Yes," interrupted Corlu bitterly. "It's always been that way, and it always will be." The traditional phrase tasted bitter on her tongue.

"Well, what would we do? Come on, Corlu. We can't fight them. There's too many, and we wouldn't even know how to begin."

"We don't have to fight them, but we could leave . . . escape. I don't know . . ."

Corlu trailed off, knowing what was coming next: that there was nowhere to go, that this had already been discussed years ago, and so on and so on. But Lian simply nodded. "Yes. We could leave."

Corlu tried again to read his face, but the drums had begun, signaling the start of Council. Lian moved back to where his family was sitting.

The meeting droned on. As Corlu had expected, there was no mention of the recent raid in the council discussions. Decisions were made about every aspect of their lives—new buildings, foraging expeditions, boat repair—but nothing was said about the thing that most affected them all. After awhile, she grew bored and let her mind wander until she felt the shake of her grandfather's hand on her sleeve, announcing that the meeting was over.

But when they walked back home across the bridges, Corlu felt anger rising up in her. The sight of the familiar wooden house looming up out of the reeds in front of them filled her with loathing. What kind of home was it that offered no protection, no sanctuary? The Clacamash could enter there as they pleased.

Finally she burst out. "Nobody talked about the raid at all! Nobody even mentioned it, did they?"

Her grandfather stopped and looked at her. "Is that what's been bothering you all evening?" He nodded to himself. "I thought it might be."

He and Mari made as if to continue walking, but Corlu stayed, her fist drumming on the thin rail of the bridge.

"Why? Why is the issue avoided? What about poor Shean?"

He turned and sighed. "I left some food today, but I didn't see them. It's hard, but after they have grieved, life will go on for them. They'll have another child."

"That's disgusting!" snapped Corlu and then looked down, ashamed.

Mari stared at her, her brown eyes wide with astonishment. Corlu never spoke to anyone that way, let alone their grandfather whom they loved with an intensity sharpened by the fact that he had been both mother and father to them.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's right."

The old man sighed again and motioned towards their home. "Let's go in and speak of this."

Corlu remained on the bridge, feeling like a sullen child. She wanted to stay out in the cold dark night, alone with her anger. She felt like she could walk for miles, paddle out across the wide sea, run, escape . . . But, after a few minutes, she unclenched her fists and followed them indoors.

Her grandfather turned from the fire as she came in and handed her a cup of telsh. It was an adult drink—bitter and strong. It was the first time she had been offered the drink, and, as she swallowed her first sip, she schooled her face so as not to make a childish reaction.

Taking a seat, Corlu watched as her grandfather gently kissed Mari good night and then came back to the fire. For a while there was only silence between them, but then he spoke.

"Corlu, I'm an old man now, but I remember the first time the Culling happened. I can never forget."

The old man placed his cup carefully on the floor before continuing. "It never goes away, and for a while I felt as you did. I wondered how one could go on living, waking up each morning, knowing that everything could be taken away from you, but I came to realize that this is life. None of us know when we're to go, and so we have to live every day rejoicing in the world around us."

Corlu impatiently made to speak, but the old man held up his hand.

"Your mother knew this better than I, and she lived this way. Think of Barrard Keal. You've seen him at his work, yes?"

Corlu nodded. Just this morning the old man had threatened her and Mari as they had taken a shortcut around his house. They had run away, gasping with laughter. Old Man Keal was the village joke.

Her grandfather took a sip and then continued. "Every day is a trial for him, but this is of his own making. He complains when the weather is cold, but when summer graces the skies, he complains of the heat. He groans about the amount of work to be done, but when it's light and everyone else enjoys their holiday, he's unhappy because he has nothing to do."

"Yes, so why has he not been taken?" Corlu burst out, despising herself at the same time for the meanness of her words. "If he hates life so much, when others want to live . . . " She trailed off, seeing in her grandfather's eyes the appeal to her better nature.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Sometimes it seems unfair, but then compare your mother's life to his. Every day was a joy to her. Every day she was happy. Would you rather live a long life that was a burden to you, or live a shorter one full of happiness?"

Corlu didn't reply. His words seemed wise and right, but she knew they didn't answer the feelings and thoughts that were swelling up inside of her.

She stared up at the symbols painted over the doorway, willing the tears away that threatened to turn her anger into sadness. The circle of flowers, the triangle enclosing the leaping fish, and the sun. These were the home symbols. They meant safety and community, and for a moment, Corlu let the sight of them soothe her.

But then she remembered the Clacamash man with his boots and foul stench. Would these symbols keep him out? Save Mari from being taken? Her grandfather killed as she watched helplessly. Anger and hopelessness sparked again inside of her like a forest fire that nothing could quench.

As if sensing her changing mood, her grandfather laid a warm and crinkled hand on her arm. "Corlu, I don't ask you to agree with me, only to think on this for awhile. I admit it's sometimes very bitter. When your parents were taken and Mari almost lost . . ."

"Mari was there?" interrupted Corlu, distracted from her anger. "Mari was there when they were taken?"

"Yes but this is a secret between you and I. She doesn't remember, and it's best that way."

"I understand," said Corlu hurriedly. "But why wasn't she taken? What happened?"

"Your father was one of the first to be forced into the carts, but your mother was on the outskirts of the group."

Like me, thought Corlu. Just like me.

"When she saw the Clacamash coming closer, she must have known that she was next. Mari was under her, and as your mother was dragged up, she resisted, made a lot of noise. It was a distraction to hide Mari."

Her grandfather rose and lifted the heavy clay pot from the table near the fire, pouring the hot liquid into the two cups.

"At first we thought she had been taken too. When the survivors returned, they said all three of them had been taken. The next morning, a man visiting from another village saw something moving in the grass. It didn't move like any animal that he knew of. It was Mari. She had been out all night, but she had survived. In the midst of our grief, hope was brought home."

"She wasn't hurt?" asked Corlu.

"No, but she didn't begin to speak when the other children her age did. Whether this would have happened anyway, I don't know. Maybe she grew to be as other children when she began to forget."

Corlu sat quiet for a minute, trying to take it all in, but then another thought arose. "And where was I? Why was I not taken?"

Her grandfather sighed again. "You were with me. At home. Ill with the summer sickness. We didn't know if you'd ever walk again or even survive the summer." He reached and grabbed her hand. "Bad things sometimes happen together, all at once, but then so do the good things in life. With Mari's return, you gradually got better, grew strong and healthy. You've never been sick again."

He looked at her proudly. Despite the anger still swirling through her, Corlu smiled back. She was never sure if she succeeded in living up to her mother.

"Come now," said the old man, rising slowly. "It's time for rest."

\- - -

That night Corlu dreamed of her mother. She wore the dark green cloak that Corlu remembered so well and stood on the hillside where the last Culling had taken place, shouting out through the loud braying of horns. Her brown hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, so alike and yet different from the tangled mess that surrounded Corlu's own head.

Corlu called to her, frustrated at not being able to hear what she was she was saying, but then the braying turned into the call of a thousand birds. They flew down and swirled around the top of the hill, obscuring her mother from sight. Corlu kept calling, screaming for her to stay, to wait for her.

Just as suddenly as they had come, the birds flew up and away, leaving the hill bare. Her mother was gone. Loneliness filled the air, gradually turning to a clammy sense of fear.

Something was coming.

Run said the voices on the wind. Leave everything and run.

And never look back.
Chapter Three

The warm spring season arrived with a flourish. Not even the most pessimistic feared a sudden swing back to winter weather, and everywhere was proof that supported that confidence, from the green rushes to the huge swathes of yellow water lilies that crowded the inlets and canals.

Corlu lay back in her brachen with eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of warm sunshine on her body. Every so often she felt herself drowsing off and forced her way back to consciousness. She was waiting for Lian and for what he was bringing—a map that he claimed his uncle possessed. Finally, after days devoted to the slow garnering of hints and rumors about the world beyond the village, she was going to have something solid upon which to build her plans.

She had begun her search ironically with Old Man Keal. He had claimed that the Kytheland existed, that he knew the way. "Far away to the south is a land of softness and joy," he had intoned with eyes closed. "A river fills the valley and dances as it runs to meet the sea. The grasses are sweet, and the nuts fall like red-golden leaves. Above it all are the Falls with their arcs of colored light. Our people came from this land, and to this land we shall return."

"And?" Corlu had prompted. "And?" But she had been too eager, and he had turned away, muttering, refusing to continue.

"He doesn't know any more about it"' laughed his neighbor Bran as the old man had shuffled away, throwing malevolent looks over his shoulder at Corlu. "Nobody does. It's just a story. A myth." And one more disappointment in Corlu's search for answers.

The movement of the boat broke her thoughts as it tipped abruptly to one side. Corlu opened her eyes. Lian settled himself on the seat opposite her and began to unravel the rope that tied the brachen to the bridge.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes, and I almost got caught," he answered, rubbing his chin. "Let's get past the river mouth to the southern marshes. They were gathering there yesterday, so there'll be no one there today.

Corlu nodded and picked up her paddle. It would take awhile, but she had awoken early this morning and had already brought in her basket of adjuni beans. She had the rest of the afternoon free.

With two paddlers, the brachen moved briskly through the water. Soon they were past the village and then into the strong current spilling out from the river mouth. The boat skipped and jumped as it encountered the pull between the tides and the river, but they paddled quickly across and into the wetlands that lay just south of the village.

Far in front of them, Corlu could make out the rocky promontories that jutted out from the shoreline to create the large bay within which the villages lay. This far south, the grass hills became pine-covered slopes. Beyond them was unknown territory. She had never climbed those hills to see what was on the other side, and no one she knew had ever paddled out of the bay and around the peninsula. That would have been madness, for the brachens were no match for the wild open sea and its ever-changing winds and storms.

They tied the boat up to a half submerged tree trunk that lay across one of the reed-lined canals. As soon as she had finished tying the knot, Corlu reached eagerly for the sack that Lian had thrown next to him, only to be stopped by Lian's voice.

"Dry your hands off first. You'll get it wet."

Corlu made a face, but wiped her hands quickly on her tunic. Asking Lian to help was necessary, but she always forgot how annoying and overbearing he could be. As children, they had been best friends and spent their time daring each other to do things that nobody else would do. They'd broken limbs, torn skin, and almost drowned together, but as they grew up, a distance had formed between them.

Sometimes she felt like Lian was comparing her to some of the other girls, like Jann, the one he was always flirting with. He'd look at Corlu as if there was something wrong with her or make some irritating comment, and her anger would boil up so quickly, she'd want to hit out at him. And then there would be times when they would settle back into a quiet friendship, when it seemed like Lian was seeking out her company. Corlu didn't know what to think.

Now, she watched impatiently as he clumsily attempted to smooth out the curled edges of the map. When he had opened it, they exchanged a look of suppressed excitement. Corlu had seen maps before—the village possessed a number that documented the canals, mudflats, and sand bars that riddled the area—but those were ordinary maps, showing useful information in the drab dark ink that was garnered from the adjuni plant stems.

This map was a riotous mix of the brightest colors Corlu had ever seen, brighter than the aquamarine tide pools to the north and more vivid than a winter sunset. Blood red lines led to deep purple brushstrokes depicting mountains and valleys. Along the edges where the land met the coast, swirls of green met a shimmer of blue, over which someone had drawn symbols in bright gold.

After her eyes had adjusted, Corlu discovered another oddity of the map. Instead of realistically depicting the coastline and other features, it placed their village squarely in the middle and denoted features in a symbolic fashion. It seemed more decorative than practical.

"Where did your uncle get this?" she asked. "It looks different."

"It's been in the family for a long time, but I don't know where it comes from. I don't think it was made in the village."

"No. I've never seen anything like this. The colors --"

"I know and look here." Lian pointed to the bottom of the map. "See, everything the elders always said was true."

She looked at the area to which he pointed. South of the village along the coast the map was covered in large triangles—a mountain rang. A series of bright orange flames ran below and beside them to the east. Written over the flames were the words "The Remains." A clear warning.

"So, it's true," said Lian. "They were right. We are blocked off to the south as well."

Corlu remained quiet for a minute, studying the map.

"This doesn't make it absolutely true," she said finally, but even she was disappointed. She had hoped the map would dispel the idea that it was too dangerous to go southwards. She had hoped it would give her proof that the myth of the Remains, an impenetrable land from which no one had ever returned was just that—a myth, a children's story, an idea that could easily be disproved.

"The map could be the very reason why people started believing this," she said, refusing to give up on the idea. "And what do the flames mean anyway?"

"My grandmother said that within the Remains lies a wall of fire that lasts for miles."

"That's ridiculous. Have you ever seen a wall of flame?"

Lian simply shrugged.

"Even if it is true, maybe we can go around by the coast."

"Come on, Corlu, you know that the cliffs become impassable." Lian jabbed his finger at the mountains and blue symbols indicating whirlpools. "There's no way to get around that direction. And that's not ridiculous, just plain truth."

Corlu pretended to look unconvinced, but she was deeply disappointed; the passion that had driven her for the last couple of weeks slowly fading. She searched the map with her fingers, looking for answers, for a way to escape. The Clacamash to the East and North of them; the ocean to the West, and now the South blocked.

"This might mean a river and a waterfall," she said pointing at a thin blue line at the very bottom of the map. It intersected a circle of tiny strokes of soft white and then flowed out to the sea.

"Corlu, that is not the Kytheland. You can't really think . . .?"

"I don't think anything, but if you're so sure that this proves that the Remains are real, why not the Kytheland?"

Lian shook his head. "The only thing I think this map proves is that we don't know anything. We've learned nothing, except that there's a good chance that we can't make it south."

"You can't have it both ways," she argued.

"Let's just eat," sighed Lian, opening the sack. "I brought a lot in case we were gone all day."

Corlu opened her mouth to snap irritably back at him, but swallowed it down by taking a deep breath. With a shrug, she accepted the bread and fruit, while Lian settled down in the brachen, limbs a sprawl in the warmth of the sun.

The two were silent as they ate. All around them was the vast wildness of the southern marshes. Small waves, whipped by the breeze, slapped against the brachen, singing of adventure and change. It was a day to begin a journey—fresh and bright.

After awhile, Corlu lay back in the brachen, her head on a sack. The rocking motion of the waves made her drowsy again, but she didn't fall asleep. Instead, she let the image of the map fill her mind. She saw the coastline, the mountains, and the strange symbols. If an exploration party followed the coastline for as far they could go, they could avoid most of the mountain range and then they could at least get a sense of what the Remains really were. They could report back and further plans could be made. At the very worst, the village could migrate into the mountains. But would they leave?

Corlu thought about this for a minute or two, trying to imagine the entire village setting off for the high peaks—the old, the very young—all leaving most of their belongings behind them, and then, when they arrived, adapting to a completely new environment. What would they eat? How would they live?

Corlu sighed. It was easy now to understand the inertia that kept the village where it was. They were a coastal people, skilled in handling boats and utilizing the many plants of the wetlands. Moving to the mountains would either mean the village's death or a transformation into something completely new. She was ready to make that change, if it meant escaping the Clacamash, but she could see why others would refuse. It could mean death just as surely as the Culling.

The other possibility was simply to move southward along the coast as far as they could. If the map was wrong, this might work, but conventional lore held that south of the village the wetlands ended and the cliffs began. A windswept beach open to the fury of the ocean would probably be even worse than the mountains. It was the marshes, quiet bays, and river that they needed. Even if the map was wrong and such a landscape existed further along the coast, how far was far enough away from the Clacamash?

Corlu recalled vague stories about villagers who had left and never returned. What was out there that made it so dangerous? What had they died from? The Clacamash, said the voice in her head, which is why you should listen to your elders. It's a dangerous world outside the village. Much safer to remain within the marshes.

But there was no safety anywhere; not there, not here, not even out on the ocean out of reach of the Clacamash.

Feeling her stomach twist with anxiety, as the images of the raid again filled her head, Corlu opened her eyes and sat up. Lian had fallen asleep opposite her. She stared at him for a moment, wondering when he had grown so tall. While his sun-browned face still spoke of childhood, there was a hardening of the jaw that was as unfamiliar as the newly gained height. Always, she had been the taller of the two, while he had been the stronger. As she looked at him, secretly enjoying this chance to watch him unseen, she felt a strange flutter in her stomach and at her throat, as if a tiny bird was trying to escape. What would it be like to rest her head against his chest? If she moved from her seat and lay down against him would his arms tighten around her and pull her closer?

Lian let out a grunt and then a long-drawn out spluttering snore, and the image and strange new sensation disappeared like a swirl of bubbles beneath her paddle. With a grimace, Corlu reached for the map that had fallen from his hand.

Up above, gulls called to each other, occasionally swooping down in search of fish. Then a group of herons appeared. Stately and dignified, they flew overhead and past to the south. With one hand shading her eyes, Corlu watched them until they were far out of range. They flew south, she repeated to herself. They flew south.

Suddenly there were no more questions or doubts. They had to at least try. Sitting up quickly, she carefully placed the map in Lian's sack and then added the vestiges of their meal.

"Let's go," she said loudly, grabbing her paddle.

"What's the rush?" Lian asked lazily from the bottom of the brachen. "We've got time."

"I want to get back in time for council. It doesn't matter about the map. We have to see for ourselves."

"You're joking, right?" said Lian, stretching and flexing his arms. "You're going to speak up at the council!" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're crazy . . . after all of this . . . after the map shows it's impossible. You think they're actually going to listen to you?" Corlu simply handed him his paddle, ignoring him as he continued. "You're just a child to them, Corlu! What are you going to say? That we should all go looking for the Kytheland?"

For an answer, Corlu began vigorously paddling homeward, and, after a few snorts of disbelief, Lian gave up and thrust his own paddle down into the deep green water.
Chapter Four

Corlu wove her way up to the front of the crowd, trying to be polite, but aiming for a seat near the front of the council meeting. This was made difficult by the fact that the day had turned cold and rainy. Everyone, especially the older adults wanted to be close to the large bonfire and away from the open doorways.

More and more exasperated looks were thrown her way, until Juana Creesh, one of the oldest members of the village, turned around and, smiling, beckoned with her hand. The old woman nodded at Corlu and patted the packed earth beside her. She had always had a soft spot for Corlu.

Corlu thanked her and sank down as unobtrusively as possible, scanning the crowd to judge its mood. To the left of the fire, sat the council members deep in discussion. Above their heads, high up in the wooden beams that supported the roof ran a line of painted icons, symbols of their village mixed with those of the sister villages. The figures jumped and flickered in the light thrown by the torches that ran along the walls.

As she looked around at her neighbors, Corlu spotted Lian. He was sitting next to Ana, talking and gesturing with his hands. They both looked up. Lian acknowledged Corlu's forced smile with a nod, but Ana simply raised an eyebrow questioningly, obviously puzzled why Corlu would sit up front. It made Corlu feel uneasy. Was it really that strange that she would want to pay attention at council or had Lian told her that she was going to ask about the Culling? The older woman eventually looked away, but Corlu still felt self-conscious. Was she about to disappoint the person she admired the most?

She squirmed in her seat, remembering the last time she had felt this way. When she was about eight, she had come across two children huddled over something with sticks in their hands. Curious, she had gone to find out what they were looking at. Before she could see what they had found, one of them had sharply prodded at the ground and laughed. Moving closer, she saw the mutilated snake, still alive and desperately trying to escape its tormentors. It was a small snake, probably a baby, one of the many that lived amongst the rushes. They were harmless and not poisonous.

Corlu had gone wild with anger. One of the children received a broken arm for his pains, the other a black eye. Then Ana had stepped in, first putting the snake out of its agony and then dragging Corlu away before she was beaten herself by one of the children's parents.

Weeping, still furious, Corlu was forced to witness the severe disappointment in Ana's eyes. She had tried to explain that the children had deserved it, but Ana simply stared back at her gravely, as if she barely knew her. After a few moments of heavy silence, Ana had spoken. What the children had done was wrong, but Corlu had a responsibility not simply to right wrong, but to manage her anger.

"If you don't learn to handle your temper, it'll be your downfall. How can you help to keep the world in balance, if you lose control and don't consider the consequences?"

The words had frightened Corlu at the time, speaking as they did of Ana's disappointment, but, after the shame, she had come to see them as a demonstration of Ana's confidence in her. From then on, she had tried to control her temper and to live up to the older woman's expectations. Perhaps she was about to change all that by speaking up. She was certainly going to make her grandfather unhappy.

"Lian says you're going to speak tonight." The gruff voice brought Corlu sharply back to the noisy present. It was Shiall, a tall girl her own age with a mane of hair as bright as sunlight, rare in the village. Corlu felt a surge of impatience and looked angrily over at Lian. Was he telling everyone their plans?

Before she could reply, Juana spoke up in shocked tones. "Of course she's not going to speak. Corlu has learned her place."

Corlu smirked at Shiall, feeling relieved. She and Shiall weren't exactly enemies, but they weren't friends either. Since they were the same age and showed the same abilities, they most often found themselves in competition with each other. Corlu preferred Deera, Shiall's best friend.

"Hmm," snorted Shiall. Corlu stared up at her with a fixed smile on her face, daring her to ask more questions.

Juana made quiet, tutting noises, taken aback by Shiall's rudeness, but before anything more could be said, the drum announced the start of the council, and Shiall stalked off.

As the raindrops fell hissing onto the fire, the head council member raised his arms and made the traditional welcome:

"I greet you all, stranger and village kin. From the Many comes One."

"From the Many comes One," the crowd repeated. The words echoed around the room, and then people settled down, coughing and shifting, making themselves comfortable.

After a pause, a woman rose and began a long and detailed explanation of a future building site on the northern outskirts of the village, closer to where the adjuni beans grew. The wood and reed building was to be used for winter storage.

She spoke for quite some time, and then the discussion began—when to start, who would be detailed to help build, who had the skills? People called out suggestions, made complaints. Again, Corlu felt the hot impatient anger growing inside of her. Here they were again having an endless discussion about winter storage, when by the time the building was completed, some of them might not even be around to use it!

She moved restlessly, prompting a puzzled look from Juana. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself and listen to the speakers. As the anger subsided, the nervousness grew, and her hands became increasingly sweaty as the meeting droned on. She couldn't speak, she told herself. She had changed her mind. It was rare for those under the age of eighteen to participate in council. Everybody would stare, and she'd be publicly reprimanded. She would just keep quiet tonight. But, Corlu felt full of dread because she knew, she just knew that she would be driven to speak, that she had to do it just to show herself that she wasn't afraid.

The moment came. Her throat constricted and she opened her mouth, but, by the time she felt her voice escaping, someone else had taken the floor with a question about waste disposal. Waste disposal! The very banality of the question infuriated her, and her courage returned.

"Are there any other concerns before we end?" shouted the council head, looking around at the crowd.

People were beginning to stand up and gather their blankets when Corlu raised her voice. "I have a question."

Her voice was unnaturally high and shrill. Swallowing, she began again, noticing that the people around her had stopped their leave-taking to turn and stare. "I would like to raise a question about the Culling."

At the word, the crowd fell silent. Heads whipped round.

"I want to know why . . ." She coughed and began again. "I want to know why we haven't explored southwards as a place to go . . . to move the village to . . .?" She trailed off falteringly, but she wouldn't have had a chance to finish anyway, for the place was in an uproar. People had raised their voices in shocked tones, and many were making a huge hustle and bustle, shepherding their families out of the building.

Above the noise, the Council Head called for order. "This gathering is concluded," he announced and then signaled to Corlu's grandfather, who quickly appeared at Corlu's side, pulling her in the opposite direction to that of the crowds departing.

Before she knew it, Corlu was being hurried away from the council building deep into the shadows. Ana was on one side, her grandfather on the other, a frightened Mari hanging on to the old man's sleeve. They were taking the long way back to their home, a circuitous route, one, Corlu soon realized, that guaranteed a minimum amount of traffic.

Not a word was spoken until they entered the living space. Her grandfather took a long look at her, sighed, and then proceeded to hustle Mari into the other room. Ana crouched down besides the banked fire and began feeding it twigs to kindle the blaze. The flames rose high, turning the mud and wattle walls a rosy pink.

Corlu stood awkwardly, staring at Ana's back. Half of her was horrified at what she had done and couldn't quite believe that she had spoken up. The other half felt defiant and angry that she had been shamed in this fashion. Why hadn't they answered her at least, she thought, furiously attempting to swallow back tears.

"Corlu, sit down," said Ana finally. "It's not as bad as all that." Her voice was gentle, but she did not turn around or speak further.

Corlu sat down on the wooden bench by the center table.

As the fire began to warm the room, Ana turned towards her, searching her face for a moment. "You should have been answered," she said, reading Corlu's thoughts. "If the crowd hadn't been so loud, I would've motioned for you to be answered at least. Everyone deserves that."

Corlu swallowed hard. She had imagined a lecture, and the sympathetic words threatened to unleash the tears that she was trying desperately hard to hold back.

"But, you must put the Culling out of your head, or you will have no life here," Ana continued. "You must accept this. You just have to."

Corlu bowed her head. The words were a final drowning of her hopes. She looked up as her grandfather came back from putting her sister to bed.

"Corlu, why?" he groaned, sitting down beside her. His face was kind, but his worried expression made Corlu's stomach twist. It told her just how outrageous her behavior had been. She wondered what would happen tomorrow. Would people avoid her? Gather in circles and whisper as she went by? Would she be permanently ostracized?

"We've already spoken about this. I thought you'd understood."

His words prompted her to speech. "But, I don't understand. Why is it forbidden to even speak of it? Surely, there's a way out of this? Why can't we move south?"

Her grandfather sighed. "When I was young, a group on the council thought like you. Secretly, they sent an exploration party south. They didn't return, and it no longer remained a secret. The village decided that a rescue party must be sent—larger than the first. Perhaps twenty young men and women left. They also did not return."

He clenched his fist; his eyes were stern. "There is no way to pass through the Remains except through death."

"But how do you know for sure? How do you know if you haven't seen this with your own eyes?" Corlu finally voiced the thought that had driven her search for answers.

Her grandfather looked over at Ana for help in answering this question, but she was staring into the fire and refused to turn around and meet his gaze.

"I know because it makes sense," he finally answered. "I know because it's village lore. And I know because those twenty never returned. If you can't agree with this, Corlu, you must at least accept the decision of those who are older, more experienced, and yes, wiser than you."

Corlu shook her head, feeling the tears again. She felt sad and weary.

"You're ashamed of me," whispered Corlu.

He quickly reached out and held tightly to her wrist across the firelight. "No, Corlu. But you are breaking my heart.
Chapter Five

The very next morning the Clacamash struck. Fifteen villagers were taken--the largest number in the village's history. A sense of shock and outrage pervaded the village. Cullings happened every few years, but this one had occurred only weeks after the last.

Corlu had woken late and without a word had remained indoors, fearing the stares and whispers of those around her. Shame and ostracization were the village's tools for keeping order and balance. Force was rarely used.

She had been sweeping near the door when the survivors stumbled back into the village. It was the grim and dazed look on their faces that told her what had happened.

Mari, she panicked and ran outside, throwing the broom back against the house.

"Where's Nadel?" screamed her neighbor to the right, trying to grab Corlu. "Have you seen Nadel? He was supposed to be here!"

Corlu shook her head and ran on. People were running around, calling for their children, their relatives, trying to get a head count. Weaving her way through the crowds, Corlu sped down across the bridges. She thought that Mari had been on cleaning duty, but she wasn't absolutely certain and the doubt caught at her throat.

The gloom of the meal house was in stark contrast to the bright sunlight outside, and it took a few seconds for Corlu's eyes to adjust. She stumbled forward, scanning the room. It was empty; those on duty must have run outside at the news.

Quickly, she checked the preparation area and then ran around out back to the stores. At the sight of Ana hurriedly giving directions to a group of children, her heart stopped racing. Of course! Mari would be with Ana.

She called out Ana's name and the group turned towards her. Ana stared at her, puzzled. Mari wasn't with them.

"Where's Mari?" Corlu called frantically. "I can't find her! She's not anywhere!"

Ana grabbed her arm as Corlu ran up, forcing her to stop. "She's not here, but we'll find her, Corlu."

Corlu stared up at the calm grey eyes that were willing her to avoid panic.

"I'll help you. Now where have you looked?"

"Home, here . . ."

"Let's check the other houses, but first the brachen."

Corlu's heart leapt at the suggestion. The brachen. Whenever Mari was sad or scared, she had a habit of curling up in one of the boats tied up among the reeds. If her sister couldn't find Corlu or her grandfather and was worried by the panic, she would've hidden in one of them. It made sense.

Splitting up, Ana and Corlu raced from one bridge to another, calling for Mari and checking each brachen. Most lay out on the water, their empty hulls warming in the sun, but some had to be pulled from under bridges and from behind the marshy vegetation.

Corlu's breath came faster as she yanked at rope after rope, hope rising. But over and over again, she was met by a sack of adjuni beans, a load of driftwood. Her stomach clenched tight. Panic threatened to overwhelm her thoughts. She sprinted over the furthest bridge to the outermost platform where a group of brachen rocked in the water. Mari had to be there.

Corlu threw herself down on the wooden planks and pulled at the fraying rope of the nearest boat with a violent heaving motion that sent the brachen flying out from beneath the bridge. A green blanket, a huddled form. Corlu's heart leapt and a welcoming smile was starting at each corner of her mouth as she pulled away the blanket. A pile of dried rushes and some sacks of beans. Nothing else.

Corlu pushed the boat away, closed her eyes, and laid her hands flat on the warm wooden dock, willing away the panic. This couldn't be happening. The words kept repeating, imprinting themselves on her brain until they broke down into meaningless sounds and no longer made sense.

Tears were streaming down her face when she heard the call. It wasn't Ana's voice, but Lian's, coming from back over by the meal house.

"Corlu! She's here. I have her!"

Wiping the tears from her eyes with one hand, Corlu looked up and saw her sister's small form next to Lian. She ran back across the bridges and grabbed Mari in a fierce embrace.

"She was hiding in one of the boxes in the new store room," Lian explained.

Corlu held her sister away from her. "Didn't you hear me calling you, Mari? You must have heard me calling your name. Why didn't you answer?"

Mari looked bewildered by the intensity of Corlu's voice and the tight hold on her arm. She started to cry, gulping out her words. "I was afraid. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I didn't want them to find me."

Corlu pulled her closer, quietly comforting her. "They're gone, Mari. They're gone, and they will never find you, I promise. I'll always keep you safe." As she murmured the words, Corlu felt sick. The Clacamash hadn't found Mari, and she was safe. But for how long? In a world in which the Cullings were accepted without a fight, all promises were meaningless and empty.

The mood in the village had calmed down by the afternoon, but people seemed stunned, unable to cope with the suddenness of the attack. The Clacamash had raided twice within a matter of weeks and were no longer something that could be ignored, or carefully enfolded within the daily habits and traditions of the village. People left off their chores and sat talking in small groups. Some simply wandered around as if waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

Corlu sat in the doorway and stared out at her neighbors as if they were strangers. She didn't feel confused or stunned, for she had never forgotten that the Clacamash were out there. She felt angry and bitter. The village was horrified, but they wouldn't do anything, and even if they did, it wouldn't stop the Clacamash.

Mari lay behind her in her cot, safely asleep, but that meant nothing. Sooner or later, the odds were that she, like everyone else Corlu knew and loved, would be out on the slopes when they came. "This is the way it has always been and the way it will always be," as the village elders were so fond of intoning, but Corlu had come to a decision. She was leaving. She would try to find a safe haven for her sister, even if it meant disobeying her grandfather and her elders, even if it meant that she would never see the village again.

Through the milling crowds, she watched as Lian made his way to her house. Behind him came Deera and Shiall.

At the doorway they stopped.

"Let's talk," said Lian. His eyes told her nothing. Corlu nodded and followed the three out to the bridge where just a few hours ago she had been frantically looking for Mari.

It was quiet and calm here. The water slapped up against the bridge, moving it gently back and fro in a lulling motion. If Corlu turned her back on the village and looked out over the reeds to the bay, she could almost imagine that it was just another lovely spring afternoon.

Lian shuffle his feet and then broke the silence. "You were right."

Corlu said nothing. She just glared at him. He coughed, looking slightly embarrassed, and then straightened and looked directly at her. "There has to be a place beyond the Clacamash, where we can live, and if no one else is going to go, it has to be us."

"When we heard you in the council meeting, it was like you were speaking our very thoughts," interrupted Shiall. "And now . . . "

Corlu remained silent.

"You agree?" demanded Lian. "They're never going to send an exploration party. Look at the way they reacted to you in council."

All three looked at Corlu, waiting for her to speak.

"I was planning on leaving tomorrow," she said finally, daring them to argue with her.

"Good," said Lian, pulling out the map. "Then we're coming with you. I think we should see how far we can get down the coast. Maybe you're right about the map as well."

Corlu blinked, taken aback by the speed with which things were progressing. Her plan was suddenly no longer her own.

"I wouldn't count on that, but it's the only thing to do," she jerked out.

"It is the only thing to do," said a quiet voice. It was Deera. Everybody turned and stared. She usually let Shiall do all the talking. Now she looked right back at them with a look of such determination that Corlu realized that there was more to the girl than she had previously thought.

"They took my aunt and my cousin this morning." Deera said and then ducked her head. Shiall moved closer as if to shield her from view.

After an awkward pause, the four sat down on the platform. Lian took out the map and they began to put together a plan. They would leave in the early morning and head south, carrying only the basics—a little food and water, a blanket, a few tools. They would take two brachen—one from Corlu's family and the other from Lian's. The theft seemed a miniscule matter in the scale of things.

As she listened, Corlu didn't know if she felt relief or apprehension. With the others coming she was sure now that there would be no backing out. She had worried whether that the burning anger she had felt while holding Mari close would last. At times, the journey seemed like an insurmountable task, something she didn't have the courage to undertake alone.

On the other hand, now it was no longer her journey propelled by her anger and sense of what must be done. She wondered who would make the decisions.

Back at her house, Corlu tried to avoid the doubts and questions that forced their way into her thoughts. She went about her chores as usual and tried to appear as if it were any other evening. She was aided by the pervasive mood of shock caused by the morning's events. Nobody seemed to think it out of the ordinary that Corlu sat silent through the evening meal or that she avoided eye contact.

While her grandfather refilled the woodpile and swept out the room, Corlu put Mari to bed, fighting the urge to linger by her little sister's bedside. Mari had been silent this evening, even more silent than was usual. She let Corlu cover her up and blow out the lantern, but then called her back to the pallet.

"I'm right here," said Corlu, sitting down on the rough bedding. She smoothed the long hair away from the little girl's forehead, attempting to memorize the features and yet hide her own secrets at the same time.

But Mari knew. "Are you going?" was all she said.

Corlu hesitated for a second, but faced by those clear blue eyes, she knew she couldn't and wouldn't lie. "Yes," she whispered. "But I'll be back soon, Mari."

Mari grasped her hand, closed her eyes, and smiled.

\- - -

The sky was still dark when Corlu crept out of the house. She stood for a second, letting her eyes adjust and whispered one last goodbye. It was gloomy and cold, and Corlu found it harder than she had imagined to just walk away.

Don't think about it, she said to herself. Just move your feet and go.

Down at the meal house all was quiet. Corlu was the first one there, so she crept into the storeroom. They had decided that they would travel light, foraging as they went until it became obvious that food would be hard to find. Into her sack, containing a blanket and a winter tunic, Corlu stuffed nuts, some dried fruit, and a couple of loaves of bread. Then she heard footsteps behind her.

"Corlu?" whispered Lian's voice.

"Over here. Are the others with you?"

Three figures slowly emerged out of the gloom.

"We're ready," said Shiall grimly.

Without another word, the two girls turned towards the long food shelves and began packing their bags.

"You've got the map?" Corlu asked.

Lian nodded and patted his bag. "But I think Tonn saw me leave."

"Are you sure? Did he say anything?"

"No, but I think we should go quickly."

With a new sense of urgency, Corlu helped Lian pack his bag. In a few minutes they were ready and crept quietly out of the meal house and along the bridges to the farthest platform where four or five brachen were tied up. Suddenly a figure loomed out of the mist.

"You're leaving?"

Corlu's muscles tensed at the sound of Ana's voice.

"We have to go."

"I'm not here to stop you." Ana's face was sad. She looked old in the gray dawn. "The council has no plan, and they'll do nothing. Go! I'll take care of Mari and your grandfather."

Corlu's eyes widened with shock.

"Go! Quickly," said Ana again. She grasped Corlu's forearms in a gesture of farewell.

"Be safe and take these." Ana pulled away and handed Corlu a long sheathed knife and two small parcels. "This contains sylvara root. For fever and pain. And this one's agoura powder for burns."

Through her tears, Corlu fumbled with her bag, attempting to place the precious knife safely away amongst the other items. Shiall took the parcels and placed them in her sack.

"We have to go," said Lian.

Ana touched Corlu's cheek one last time and then pushed her in the direction of her friends. The boats were untied, and they were waiting for her. Corlu slid down behind Lian and then looked back up at the platform to say goodbye, but Ana was already gone. Swallowing, Corlu picked up her paddle, and followed the other boat out onto the dark water of the bay.
Chapter Six

The sun was riding high in the sky when they reached the end of the peninsula that jutted out into the bay and protected the waters within. They had paddled hard, impelled by the fear of discovery. The tiny beach amongst the lichen-encrusted rocks was the furthest Corlu had ever been in her life. Beyond the peninsula was the open ocean. Even the peninsula itself was considered unsafe by the villagers because the Clacamash had occasionally been seen there.

While they ate a quick meal, Lian announced that they should change their plans. "I know we said that we'd leave the brachen here, but it's going to be a long journey on foot. We've got to go over the peninsula and then back to the shoreline. And look at it! It's sheer rock"

"So what do you suggest?" said Corlu sourly, knowing what was coming next.

Lian shrugged. "We take the brachen."

Corlu gritted her teeth and shook her head. The brachen would never last in the huge ocean swells. She knew better than any of them.

"Look we'll make better time with them," he continued. "It could be calm on the other side, and we can use the brachen to go even further down the coast."

Lian was looking at the other two, as if he was garnering support, like he was imagining himself a council leader. Corlu clenched her fists tightly.

"Besides," he added. "I think there's a greater risk of being taken by who knows what, if we go over by--."

"You're crazy," snapped Corlu before he had finished. "There's no way the boats will make it in open seas, and we all know the currents are dangerous."

Lian put on his supercilious expression, the one that annoyed Corlu more than anything, and then shrugged. "The whole point of this venture is to explore, to test what everyone has ever told us. Here's our first chance. The brachen are our greatest asset. We can't just leave them after a few hours."

Corlu looked down at the rough brown sand and willed herself to remain calm. "Listen. There's a big difference between finding out what lies south of us and taking a tiny boat out into the ocean. The waves will overwhelm us as soon as we get out there. That's truth, not simply tradition!"

"We should try at least." Lian looked around at the other two.

"And since when are you known for challenging things? A few days ago, you didn't even think I should speak up."

Lian frowned and looked away. Corlu felt like they had had this same argument over and over again. Every time, Lian would arrogantly assume that everyone should do what he thought was right, no questions asked. Well, she was sick of it!

In the heat of the argument, they had almost forgotten the other two, but now Shiall spoke up. "Look, we can settle this right now by voting, and, while I also think it's crazy, I do think we'll need the brachen. It's worth the risk, and we can always turn back or land, if it looks like they can't handle it."

Corlu swallowed hard, trying to control her voice, so she sounded calm. She turned to Deera. "And what do you think?"

Deera looked uneasy, but Corlu could tell that she was going to side with Shiall. This was exactly what she had been worried about when the others decided to come along. What good was the company going to do her, if they were all going to be drowned on their first day out?

"Well?"

"I agree with Shiall," said Deera quietly, avoiding Corlu's eye. "But I think at the first sign of danger, we should turn back immediately."

"If we can," snarled Corlu, her self control slipping.

"Fine. We're agreed," said Lian, with an irritating smile. "Let's go."

Corlu threw him a look of suppressed fury. "I'm steering then," she said, as they threw their bags into the brachen and started pulling it across the wet sand to the water. Lian raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Corlu paddled angrily for a few minutes, stewing over what had just happened, but, in no time at all, they were rounding the point of the peninsula, and her attention was instantly focused on the boat. It had been windy out on the bay, but nothing compared to the blasts that now hit them head on from the open sea. Huge breakers crashed into the peninsula on their left, sending spray spinning into the air.

Corlu aimed the boat away from the rocks, but it pulled towards the shoreline. Beneath the boat, she could feel the deep ocean currents, the vast depth below.

She dug in hard with the paddle, hoping that if they could just make it to where the peninsula curved back into the coastline, the waves would carry them in, instead of sweeping them up against the rocks. If that happened, they were done for. There was no way they could survive amongst the breakers.

They weren't going to survive very long out here in the open sea either. The brachens were built low for use in protected waters. They were no match for these waves. Each time the boat fell into another trough, Corlu felt her heart stop. She was sure that they would capsize. She had long since given up checking for the other boat. There was nothing but the relentless crashing and roaring of wind and water.

It was soon clear that they were making little headway. They weren't going to make it. Water poured into the boat, swirling around their legs, and Corlu's muscles were strained to their limit. Each time the boat rode to the top of a wave, she frantically scanned the rocks, looking for somewhere to land.

"Can you see anywhere?" shouted Lian over his shoulder. "Can we turn back?"

"We can't!" Corlu yelled, her voice whipped away by the wind.

It was impossible to turn back in these waves. They would instantly swamp the boat. But she also knew that they didn't have the strength or skill to land.

In and out went their paddles. There was nothing left to do, except thrust in and push forward. Corlu had given up steering, and she could tell that Lian was tiring. The waves were directing them now.

Looking up, she felt a surge of hope. They were coming round the other side of the peninsula now, and a long sandy coastline curved in front of them. They had caught the tide in, but they were also dangerously close to the rocks on their left. With each surge forward, they were being swept closer and closer to where the breakers were crashing. They would be thrown up against the cliff face and torn to pieces.

As they plunged into the next trough, the last thing Corlu saw was Lian down below her, drenched, paddle lifted, and then the boat was sent over from behind and they were in the water.

Corlu went under and then came back up amongst a swirl of foam. She gasped for breath and then sank under again, as an enormous wave broke over her head. When she came up a second time, she saw the keel of the brachen ahead of her and grabbed for it. Her eyes stinging, she felt the edge of the boat and threw herself on top.

Lian was barely holding on to the other side. Blood poured down from his forehead into the water.

"Lian!" she screamed.

In between the beating of each wave, she caught another glimpse of him. He was slipping, fighting to catch hold of the brachen. She lost him for a few minutes, and when the next break came, he was gone.

"Lian! Lian!" Twisting and turning, she searched through the foam for any glimpse of him. Her own grasp was slipping, and she knew she couldn't last much longer. Each wave dragged her and the boat down and then upwards before crashing over them. She could barely see, and her lungs were on fire.

Out of the towering waves, a dead weight slammed up against her body. Lian. With her last bit of strength she grabbed at his arm and pulled him towards her before the waves pushed them spiraling towards the black rocks that glistened amongst the spray. In a powerful surge, she was sent upwards, and then there was only darkness.
Chapter Seven

It was dark. Above the loud boom of the breakers, she could hear someone calling her name. Then hands were pulling her out of the water and up a sharp incline. Coughing and shivering, she looked up at Shiall and Deera. A damp cavern wall arched high above their heads. Beside her in the gloom of the cave lay Lian, retching onto the shell-encrusted sand.

"How?" was all she was able to get out. Her lungs ached with a fiery pain, and she was freezing to the point of numbness. Deera placed a blanket round Lian's shoulders and then handed one to Corlu. The blanket was damp, almost wet through, but Corlu pulled it closer, willing herself warm.

Then she realized what that blanket meant. She looked over to her right, and there, pulled up on the sand, was a brachen. The front was smashed in and small tears lined the sides, but it sat jauntily on the pebbled slope as if it had simply been pulled up into the sea cave for some minor repairs.

"You paddled in here?" she gasped.

Shiall gave a dry laugh. "You've got to be joking? We thought we were going to drown. We couldn't keep away from the rocks and then a wave just swept us in here through a crack. We smashed up over there, but we were able to pull the bags out."

"We were all lucky," said Corlu, trying to sit up.

From beside her, Lian coughed and then cursed.

Corlu looked at him for a second--he was in worse shape than her, although the blood seemed to have clotted into a wound above his left eye. Deera was winding some sort of bandage around his head. He shrugged half-heartedly as if trying to convey embarrassment at the fuss, but the wound looked horrible. He paused for a moment and then looked up at her.

"You're not going to say I told you so, are you?"

Corlu shook her head, but she was smiling. This was the second time that she had cheated death, but unlike the emotions that had remained after the Clacamash raid, this time she felt exhilarated. They had come through the first test. It had been risking death to try to round the peninsula in the fragile brachen, and only luck had saved them, but they were still alive and still together. She shook the moisture from her hair and rubbed down her wet clothes with the blanket.

It was Shiall who broke her good mood. "I don't suppose any of you have thought about how we're going to get out of this cave?" she said in a loud voice. "Because there's no way we're going back out through there."

They all looked as she pointed towards the cave opening where massive green white waves surged inwards, filling the neck of the cave with foam. They were trapped behind a maelstrom of furious water.

Corlu tried to still the tremors that shook through her body. "Let's just hope there's another way out then."

They were all quiet for a minute, involuntarily stealing glances at the shadowed walls of the cave.

"Of course there must be," said Deera, breaking the silence. "My father said the peninsula was riddled with tunnels and caves. He almost broke his leg the one day he was here, falling into a hole up top.

Corlu got up, testing her strength, and then watched Lian rise. "You look like Tonn when he got into the harvest wine."

It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but Lian smiled back.

Shiall and Deera picked up the two remaining bags, and then they all picked their way across the rocks and sand to the back of the cave. Away from the opening, the crashing of the surf was softened. Against the background roar, they could now hear the pattern of dripping water as it slowly fell from the roof, a lonely, dreary sound.

Corlu scanned the wall ahead, searching for openings in the gloom. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a number of tunnels. All of them were pitch dark.

"I'm going to try this one," said Shiall, making her way to an entrance on their far left.

"Wait!" Deera cried and ran back to the brachen. She returned carrying a long length of twine. "Tie this around your waist."

Shiall rolled her eyes, but allowed Deera to attach the twine.

"Keep talking to me, " Deera said as she watched Shiall disappear into the dark.

Moments passed. Holding the end of the rope, Corlu shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm. Deera peered into the darkness.

"Shiall?" she called.

There was silence. Then a muffled curse floated back to them. "I'm coming back. It's a dead end," called Shiall.

She emerged from the tunnel, shaking her head.

"I'm going with you into the next one," said Deera firmly. "I hate just waiting out here."

Shiall shrugged and waved her toward the next opening. The two disappeared into the gloom.

Corlu could feel the dread returning. Lian had become quieter and quieter, and she could sense his body cold and wet beside her. It was all she could do herself to stop herself from shivering uncontrollably. She stamped her feet a couple of time, wincing at the pain, and handed Lian the rope end.

A muffled shout came from the cave. The rope went taut, pulling at Corlu's hands.

"Shiall? Where are you? Deera are you there?"

There was a long moment of dead silence.

Then came Deera's voice, faint but firm. "We're fine." All was silent for a few more seconds, and then Deera shouted back something. Her voice was distorted, the words indistinguishable.

Corlu stumbled to the entrance. "Deera? Are you there?" Her voice bounced off the low ceiling and echoed in the deep darkness. The rope slackened, but still there was only silence.

Suddenly a hand grasped her arm and she fell back startled.

"It's just me," said a voice. "We're back." Deera's face emerged from the gloom.

"What did you find?" asked Corlu.

"There's a little bit of light ahead," said Shiall, joining her. "We'll have to let go of the rope eventually though. It's a risk."

"One we have to take," finished Corlu taking the rope from Lian's numb and out stretched fingers. He barely moved. She searched with her hands for something to tie the rope to, and when her fingers brushed an outcrop near the ground, she made a quick knot and shoved a couple rocks over the loop. "If we don't pull on it, it should hold."

She swallowed down her fear and followed Deera and Shiall into the tunnel, pulling Lian behind her. It became increasingly darker with each step. And then soon, it was time to let go of the rope. It took Corlu's last bit of courage to continue on into the gloom towards the gray patch of distant light, but she did it. It wasn't only that Lian was frighteningly quiet. Corlu could feel her own steps slowing, her thoughts becoming vague and muddled. This was their only chance.

They walked on.

After what seemed like an hour or so of clambering over rocks, Corlu began to lose track of time. They could have been walking for an hour or a day. There was no way to tell. Barely exchanging a word, they stumbled along the tunnel and up and over the endless piles of boulders that blocked their way.

Corlu's legs throbbed with various bruises, and she could feel a trickle of blood around her knee. Her feet and hands were numb, and snatches of songs she learned as a child rattled nonsensically through her head. Three little fish, swimming in the blue. Here comes the shark, now there are two. Two little fish, swimming in the sun. Here comes the shark, now there's only one. One little fish . . .

Suddenly, from behind came the loud sliding of rocks and a muffled groan. Lian. Corlu groped her way back to him, and helped him to lean against a large boulder. She was shocked at the deathly coldness of his hands. He was stronger than her and a better swimmer, but he had almost drowned. The thought chilled her.

"I'll be better in a second." Lian's words came in ragged spurts.

Corlu took his hands in hers and tried to chafe them. "We're probably close."

Suddenly his grip on her hands grew tighter. "Just don't leave me here, Corlu. . . . I couldn't . . . "His words ended in a fit of rasping coughs, but Corlu knew what he was going to say. He couldn't bear to be left to die down here, all alone in the dark and cold. She felt the dread too. It was pressing down on them from the cave walls.

"Don't be foolish, Lian. We're almost there." She tried to be flippant, but she could feel herself close to tears.

Lian didn't answer her, but he lumbered to his feet and started moving. Slipping and stumbling they continued on down the passage. The harsh sound of their breath and the monotonous dripping were the only sounds in the empty darkness.

Corlu was focused on getting over a rocky section, so she didn't notice the change in light until Deera cried out up front: "We're out!"

Turning a corner, they were suddenly hit by a blast of sunshine that fell from above along a gigantic rock pile. Ever afterwards, Corlu would remember the sheer joy of seeing wispy white clouds floating in the afternoon sky after hours of being under ground. Up above a bird floated in slow drowsy circles.

All four stood transfixed in the warm shaft of sunlight. Then they were grinning at each other, laughing. Shiall let out a whoop and embraced Deera in a dancing hug.

Corlu turned to Lian who had collapsed upon a large boulder at the base of the rockslide. He smiled up at her. She studied the pile of rocks that tumbled from the opening above them. "We should take it slowly. No point in breaking a leg when we're so close to the top."

Lian nodded and then stared down at the ground between his knees. Corlu looked at him anxiously "You're well enough?"

He nodded again and then stood up, moving close to her. "Thank you."

"For what?" She was puzzled for a second and then remembered the awful moment in the tunnel when he had almost broken down. "Don't think of it," she mumbled, embarrassed. "It was nothing."

She could feel him towering over her, his closeness both strange and yet familiar. His eyes held hers for a long moment. Involuntarily she stepped closer, her body drawn to his though the intensity of his gaze stripped her to the bone, leaving her bare and exposed. Then there was the rasp of a rock falling and she breathed out. Lian turned away, and the moment passed.

Cheeks stinging, Corlu busied herself with drinking some water from the flask and gathering the remaining gear. Thankfully, the cave was dim, but Deera and Shiall had to have noticed. She felt like she had stood transfixed in front of Lian for hours. The thought was humiliating. Avoiding their gaze, she started climbing.

\- - -

Late afternoon sunshine spilled over the landscape, when they finally crawled through the hole and stood above ground. They had come out on a low ridge near the end of the peninsula. Behind them and to their left towered the jagged cliffs. To the right lay the ocean and then miles and miles of white beach, stretching off to the south. The sky flushed pink and orange as the sun came to rest on the horizon.

Lian sat on the ground, catching his breath. Corlu made sure to sit as far away as possible. Still, pleasure swept through her body. The soft breeze seemed to blow away the cloying dampness of the cave. The warm rock behind her back had been baking in the spring sunshine all day.

"I didn't think we were going to make it out so quickly," said Deera, glancing back at the yawning hole behind them. "I thought we might have had to spend a least a night down there,"

"Don't say that," shuddered Corlu. The thought of being stuck down below as night came stealing on and brought absolute darkness was chilling.

Shiall studied the coastline, while the other three rested in the sun. After a moment, she turned around and threw herself down beside them. "We can probably just make the beach before night fall. We'll want time to gather some wood and then we can get our clothes dry."

"That's a good plan," said Deera, stretching her arms above her head. "How do you feel, Lian?"

"Drier, warmer, and ready to get off this peninsula, and I think we should do it quickly. Anyone or anything has a good view of us."

Everyone's head snapped up, suddenly aware of how vulnerable they were on the outcrop, framed against the sky. Quickly shouldering the bags, they set off down the ridge to where the peninsula met the beach.

When they reached the sands, the sun had fallen below the pile of clouds on the horizon, and the sky was deepening to violet. They needed to gather wood quickly, for the spring nights were still cold, despite the deceptive summer sunset, but without a word they all stood for a moment, gazing westwards at the pink-silver ocean. They had made it past the peninsula. Not many in the village could say the same.

With the last bit of color painting the sky, they gathered a pile of driftwood and built a fire behind one of the grey boulders that littered the upper stretches of beach

"I don't think they can see this from the village," said Shiall, warming her back against the blaze. "But I don't know if it's wise."

"We have to take the risk," said Corlu. "These blankets are still damp."

"I know," said Shiall, smiling at her over the rim of their one cup. "I just felt like I had to say it. I don't think anyone's out there. It's just us." She shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Like it's all just open emptiness? Just us and the sea," answered Corlu, turning into the wind.

Shiall stared at her for a moment and then answered. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

They stared at each other for a moment and then turned away, a little embarrassed. Corlu busied herself with arranging the blankest for the night.

\- - -

As she lay close to the red and gold flames, her ear filled with the unfamiliar sound of breakers thudding on the sand, the strangeness of being away from the village struck Corlu. This was the first time any of them had been away from the village overnight. But she felt no fear, just an exhausted acceptance. If she had any fears, it was about not having enough courage to meet what lay ahead, a fear of failing and wanting to return home.

There was also the troubling situation with Lian. They were sharing a blanket, as were Deera and Shiall, but, even though they were back to back, she knew she would never be able to fall asleep. She was too conscious of the heat from his body, the thought that she would like nothing better than to curl up against him.

Lian moved restlessly and then whispered: " Corlu, are you awake?"

Corlu tensed. "Yes."

"I should've listened to you," said Lian quietly. "I knew you were right about the boats."

"It's fine," she coughed out gruffly. "We came through safely."

Lian sat up abruptly. "No it's not fine. We almost died. We didn't just come close, we ran along the knife's edge. If it was just me . . ." he shrugged. "But I almost killed three other people, and we lost our packs."

Corlu lay still for a moment and then sat up too. Shiall and Deera were a hazy muddle of blankets across the fire. They seemed miles away. It was just her and Lian, and suddenly the words came. "Lian, we have no elders with us. We'll make mistakes. It's just the way it is. Next time the responsibility may be mine, or Shiall's, or Deera's."

"But you were right. It was crazy to go out in the brachen." He turned angrily away from her. "I bet you feel vindicated!"

Corlu sighed with relief. This sounded more like the ordinary Lian. "Yes. I was right," she said, punching him in the arm. "And I'm going to be rubbing it in for the rest of your life!"

"I bet you will," he grunted and lay back down, taking most of the blanket with him.

Corlu smiled, pulling at the blanket and moving closer to the warmth of Lian's back. Some time later, she fell asleep counting stars in the soft black sky.
Chapter Eight

Corlu placed a large piece of driftwood in the center of the fire and watched as the flames rose quickly to engulf it. They had awoken to a chilly, if spectacular dawn. The handful of dried adjuni beans they'd allowed themselves wasn't exactly the meal Corlu craved after a night spent outdoors. Her stomach growled for the warm bread her grandfather made each morning. Perhaps the real hardship on this trip, the one that might wear them down and undermine their purpose, wasn't going to be injury, but hunger and cold. With the meager meal over, there was nothing to keep them from breaking camp early and beginning the long hike along the sands.

They soon learned to pick out the most efficient route across the beach, walking on the hard-packed sand close to where the waves crept up. Used to the marshes and tidal flats of their village, all of them were exhilarated by the endless space, the spray and the crash of the long silver rollers.

They walked for almost three days, their muscles aching from the unfamiliar exercise of hiking across sand. On the second day, they noticed that the beach was narrowing and the cliff face growing taller. On the morning of the third, the cliffs towered above them, and it became harder and harder to trace a path up the rock face.

As she scanned the immense cliffs, Corlu felt anxiety rising within her. She had always been able to hide her fear of heights where they lived, but now there was no delaying the inevitable. When they passed an opening caused by a small mountain stream, they stopped to make a decision. The tide was out, but even so, the breakers crashed on the pebbles next to them, spraying their feet with foamy mist. The sand had disappeared completely.

"We need to start climbing," said Shiall, stating the obvious. "This may be our last chance." She finished refilling her water flask and headed for the opening.

Deera and Lian made to follow her, but turned when Corlu called to them.

"Wait. It looks like a dead end. There'll be something better further up. Why don't we keep going?"

"What are you talking about?" said Shiall impatiently. "This is probably our last chance before the tide comes in." She shielded her eyes and pointed down the coastline. "The beach ends in cliffs down there."

"You can't see that far," answered Corlu. "Why go up when there may be an easier way? We can't climb up there."

Lian came closer to her. "What's wrong?"

Corlu turned on him angrily, hating him for sensing her fear. "Nothing's wrong with me! You're crazy to think we can make it up that way. Let's just keep going."

As she began to walk away, Lian tried to grab her arm, and Corlu swung around on him. Deera and Shiall stared at her in amazement.

"We have to keep going!" she yelled at them. "And, if you're not coming, I'm going alone."

"Something is wrong with you," snapped Shiall. "We can't separate, and you don't get to make the decisions for all of us, especially one that makes no sense. Where do you think we're going to be when the tide comes in?" She gestured at the foaming sea. "Swimming out there, that's where!"

"Wait," said Lian, stepping between the two girls and searching Corlu's face. "Corlu was right about the brachen. Maybe we should keep going and see what happens." He turned back to Shiall.

"But that's—" she started and then stopped.

A silence fell on the group. Corlu angrily picked up one of the bags and trudged off down the beach. She knew what Lian had done. She could imagine the look on his face as he silenced Shiall, and it just made her more enraged. Who did he think he was? She didn't need to be humored, and she certainly wasn't being unreasonable.

When Lian came up beside her, she veered away to the left, putting some distance between the two of them. If they all wanted to conspire against her like she was some outsider or small child, then they could just walk on without her.

\- - -

The sun rode high in the sky. Corlu watched as the other three stopped and then turned towards her. She had fallen slowly behind over the course of the morning, still brooding over her earlier behavior. She was ashamed, but didn't know how to apologize. It had become clearer and clearer with every slight bend in the coastline that the only way up was the break in the cliff they had stopped at this morning. Every time she slipped, making her way over the huge rocks that covered the boulder-strewn beach, she told herself that she was going to have to admit that she was wrong.

Apologizing, however, was going to be relatively easy compared to the daunting task of making herself climb up that cliff. Village life revolved around the water not the mountains. Now she was going to have to climb straight up a cliff face, and the back of her neck went clammy just thinking about it.

Lian called her name and started walking towards her as the other two watched. She knew what he had come to say.

"I know!" she shouted, furious. "I know. The tide's coming in. We have to turn back." She threw down the sack, trying to fight back the rising panic.

"Soon it'll have covered these rocks and we'll be trapped." Lian spoke quietly, but the kindness in his voice threatened to overwhelm her.

Corlu turned away and made to pick up the sack.

"We can sit for a moment. We're all tired."

Corlu swallowed and tried to make her voice sound ordinary. "You were right, Lian. I just thought there might be a better way up."

"I hoped there was too, but, Corlu, you can do this. I know you. You'll do this, and you'll be fine."

Shame washed over her for a moment. Of course they had all known that she was scared! She clenched her fists and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Then came an image of Lian in the cave, quiet and weak, begging not to be left behind, terrified of dying alone. She sighed. He was being more than generous after the way she had snapped at him, and she felt grateful for his confidence. He had never spoken so before, and if anyone knew her and what she could do, it was he. She looked up and gave him a shaky smile.

"You'd better catch me if I fall."

"I'll be right behind you."

"Can you promise that?"

Lian flashed a cocky grin. "Of course I can."

\- - -

It was a rough scramble getting back to the break in the steep rock face. The waves were already washing up to the feet of the cliff, and they had little time to sit and think about the climb.

Deera reached the opening first and led the way, followed by Lian and then Corlu, with Shiall last. As Corlu had expected, the rough pathway along the stream continued for only a few bends before it ended, and they were forced to start picking out a route across the rock face.

Every so often she risked a look up and wished she hadn't. The cliff loomed menacingly above her and presented a face of almost seamless granite. As far as she could tell there was no way up; no handholds or ledges upon which to rest. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing—placing her foot carefully and conserving her strength as she pulled herself up and over the huge rock steps.

Gradually, they slowed down, as it became increasingly more difficult for Deera to pick out a route. After a few moments, they stopped to rest and wipe the sweat from their eyes. Corlu trained her eyes on the stone beneath her feet, knowing that if she looked around she would start to panic.

"Up that way?" she heard Lian say.

"Should be easy," Shiall replied behind her.

Corlu laughed nervously.

"Just look at my back," Lian said reassuringly.

Corlu nodded. She had dropped all pretense of not being deathly afraid. She didn't care now who knew, as long as they helped her get through this.

The rest of that afternoon was one long nightmare. Even after an hour of climbing, the fear didn't leave her. Sometimes the way was easy enough. There were even sections where they were able to rest with the view down below obscured by a boulder. Corlu panicked any time anyone made a sudden move or came near her, but as they climbed, she followed Lian closely and was glad of Shiall just behind her.

She knew they were near the top from the comments the others were making, but then there was a sudden silence.

"What's wrong?" she panicked. "What's wrong?"

"It's fine," said Deera. "This last part's just a little difficult."

"What do you mean?" Corlu demanded, looking up from Lian's back. The sky swayed into focus, its pale blue in contrast to the deep indigo of the ocean. They were higher than Corlu had ever been before, higher than the hills to the north, higher than the gulls that circled below them. She felt like she was going to faint, but the pain in her fingers kept her conscious. She gripped the rock with sweaty hands.

Up ahead, the ledge they were on fell away to almost nothing. They were going to have to shuffle along the tiny shelf, grasping the rock in a spread eagle stance, using their hands more than their feet. Corlu knew physically what she had to do, but the mental image of falling backwards down to the rocks below paralyzed her.

"I can't do this," she muttered. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," said Deera. "I've seen you balance between two brachen on a windy day in the middle of the bay. This'll be easy for you."

"Besides," growled Shiall with exasperation. "You have no choice. You just have to."

"Let's go then," Corlu muttered. "Just go!"

Lian went first. Corlu watched as he inched his way along the ledge. He stopped for a minute, searching for a grip hold with his right hand. Suddenly there was a sharp crack as he disturbed a tiny section of rock, sending pebbles and loose earth tumbling down into space. They were too far up to hear them hit the ground below.

"You're fine," shouted Shiall. "Keep going."

Lian grunted in reply, focused solely on his next step.

Then in three quick movements, he had swung himself to the other side around the jutting rock. He was slightly above them now and obscured by the bulge in the cliff.

"It's not so bad," he called back.

Deera shook her ahead as she readied herself to climb.

Suddenly, Corlu knew that she had to move now, had to go before the paralysis meant she was left whimpering on the cliff face for all eternity. "Deera," she gasped. "I'll go next."

Deera nodded and made way for her. Corlu could see she was trying to look unconcerned.

"I'm coming over," Corlu called to Lian and then shimmied her way along the tiny ledge, feet sliding sideways.

One step and a tight grip above to the right. Two steps. Three. The rock tore at her left cheek, but she hugged the rough surface even tighter. Four, and she had reached the middle. She made to move quickly around the bulge and narrowly missed the handhold. Her body swayed outward, and for a moment time crashed to an agonizing slowness. She was mid-air; she was going to plummet off the ledge, down the cliff to the boulders below. With one last effort she threw herself against the rock, grasping the handhold and regaining her balance. She sobbed in relief, but the mistake had thrown her off, and she stopped, panting with terror.

"Come on, Corlu," cried Lian. He was visible now, but for Corlu he might as well have been a mile away. She couldn't move. Her hands were dripping with sweat, and she knew they would slip if she grasped for the next hold.

"Corlu, move!" Lian shouted. "Just move! You can do this!"

"Leave me alone," she whimpered, beginning to cry.

"Corlu, listen to me. Close your eyes and move slowly towards me,"

"I can't. I'll fall."

"No you won't. Just a few more steps and I've got you. I'm right here. Close your eyes and I'll guide you."

With eyes closed, Corlu visualized the next move. Then she made a tiny movement sideways and was able to grasp the next handhold. She took a deep breath, listening to Lian's instructions.

"That's right, put your right foot a little further along. Good, now grasp the next one."

Step by step, obeying every instruction she was given, Corlu inched her way along.

"Now put your right foot up. There's a hold further along. Higher! No higher up. Yes!"

With a grunt, Lian grasped her wrist and pulled her up. Corlu stumbled quickly away from the ledge and sank down by a stand of wind-gnarled pine trees. Turning away from the cliff, she let her body shake out all the fear and strain of the climb.

The trees had sent their roots snaking across the dusty soil of the mountaintop into battle with the sun-warmed grey rock. Against her back, she could feel the rough bark with its sticky bleeding wounds of sap. She watched the others climb up, limbs still shaking.

Gradually her body slowed it's shivering, and she closed her eyes, leaning against the tree. It was quiet away from the roar of the ocean, a silence only broken by the lonely sigh of the wind through the top branches and the occasional scuttle of rocks sliding down the cliffs. An eagle rode on air currents high above in the deep blue sky. There was the scent of cedar and pine. The sun burned her face in constant interplay with the cold mountain air that gusted up from the sea below.

After a few minutes, when her breathing and pulse had slowed, she turned around, looking for the others. They stood at the cliff edge, looking south.

"So, what can you see?" she called.

"Mountains, mountains, and more mountains," Deera answered.

"The cliffs seem to go on forever. Although it's hard to tell with the haze. I don't see any break though," said Shiall.

"It's going to be a long walk before we find any river valley," joined in Lian. "It's all beach and scrubby mountainside."

"Well. At least that puts some distance between a future village and the Clacamash," said Corlu.

"So. Where do we go from here?" Lian asked.

Corlu stood up and looked around. "Let's keep the ocean in view." She scanned the grove of pine trees. "Look. I think we can walk along the top for a way without going too deeply into the trees, but I'm staying as far away from that ledge as possible."

Lian grinned. "Coward! The drop's not that bad!"

Corlu shot him a look and started off through the trees.

Fund's Third Tale;

Copied by Liesen Riedlle

The stories say that before our people came to these shores and learned to live peacefully in villages, we lived as the wild land animals do, up amongst the hills to the east and the north. There were no villages, for each small family lived and died alone. There were no rules or councils, and murder and rape were a way of life. The people quarreled and fought, and life was hard. Mothers and fathers did not care for or raise their children. Survival was all that mattered.

One family, however, grew powerful. The eldest man had many wives who bore children who were taller and stronger than any that had been born before. These children fought amongst themselves, but they also banded together and dominated the land.

People from other families were subdued by them: murdered or forced to slave for them. Some, however, were drawn to this man and his group willingly, thinking that protection was worth the price of slavery. The group grew larger until they ruled over all of the people. Still there were no rules or laws.

When the man grew older, his children plotted to kill him and steal his power. They came upon him as he lay sleeping and beat him with clubs until his bones and entrails lay scattered amongst the rocks.

Now power rested with the man's many children, but they could not agree to live together peacefully. Much blood was shed. Out of the fights and murders, two brothers arose as leaders, and the people were forced to choose between the two. The people were divided, and a great battle was fought that threatened to kill off every living person, young or old.

In the midst of this battle, a woman looked up into the sky and saw a strange bird circling over her head. The bird spoke of freedom from war and strife, of a land where food was abundant and there was room for all. At first the woman ignored the bird's call and returned to the fighting, but she found that she could no longer kill, no longer lift her club against another. To avoid being killed, she was forced to lay down her weapon and flee.

Others also had heard the bird's call and fled the hills, following the bird as it twisted and turned in the sky. When they arrived at the ocean's edge, they wept with joy and vowed to live peacefully by its side, forsaking the ways of their mothers and fathers.
Chapter Nine

"But who are they?"

Corlu shoved the fire vehemently with a stick as if to further underline her question. The fire exploded for a moment in a shower of orange sparks. It was the fourth night since they had climbed up from the beach, and they had finally broached the reason that had sent them on their journey in the first place.

Lian had been the first to break the silence: "Why do they take us?"

A simple question that had opened the floodgates, as if, with the break from the village, nothing was now taboo, everything allowed. Corlu had no doubt that this was the most important question, but she had been pursuing her own line of thought. Perhaps if they knew who the people were who so randomly raided their village, they might be able to figure out what they wanted.

"Who are they?" asked Lian through a mouthful of mashed clava root. "More like what are they? I wouldn't call them people!"

"Cover your mouth!" interjected Shiall from across the fire. "I can see what's swilling around in there from way over here."

Lian grimaced at her, shaking his head.

"And why do we never speak their name?" demanded Corlu before Lian could respond. "It seems superstitious."

"My mother shivers if you even say a word that sounds like Clacamash," said Lian, wiping his mouth. "She slapped Tonn across the face the other day when he started to name them. She almost got in trouble with the council."

"Do you think it's what they call themselves?" asked Deera.

"I don't know," Corlu said, taken aback. "I've never thought about it. It sounds like one of their words. Not ours."

"Then why do we know their name, but nothing else about them?"

"You ask that when we can't even talk about the Culling?" Corlu shook her head angrily. "I think we did know things about them, but we've forgotten it all, and it wasn't allowed to be written down."

"Well they're not like us or anyone from the villages," said Deera. "My father said they've always been there, but they've been coming more often. He said that they came only once in his father's lifetime."

"That's what my grandmother said too," Shiall added and then spat in disgust.

"Perhaps they're moving to the coastline or expanding their territory," Corlu said thoughtfully. "What would cause that?"

"Maybe their beast creature is getting hungrier," said Deera, half joking.

Shiall gave a contemptuous laugh. "You don't really believe all that do you?"

"No." Deera shook his head, embarrassed. "But still . . ."

"Still what? They capture us and feed us to some imaginary beast that we've never seen or heard?"

"Well, what do they want with us then?" asked Deera with a hint of defiance.

Shiall shrugged impatiently and leaned over to help herself to more food. "I don't know, but it's not for that reason. Perhaps they kill us simply because they enjoy it." She paused, her fists clenched. As Shiall stared into the fire, Corlu realized that what she had thought was simply anger inside the other girl was actually hate, a hard implacable hatred that demanded vengeance. It made Corlu nervous.

There was silence for a moment, and then Shiall looked over at Corlu. "You've seen them. What do they look like?"

Corlu jerked back at the abruptness of the question. The others shifted uncomfortably, but she could feel their curiosity. They tried to hide it by avoiding her eye politely, but she could sense their questions in the way the air went still, as if they were all holding their breath.

And why not speak about it, she thought. Hadn't all of the old barriers come down when they'd made that momentous decision on the bridge, a decision that meant disobeying their elders and going against everything they had thought to be true? Why not face her memories as she'd faced her doubts and fears about leaving?

Shiall sat quietly waiting for her to speak.

She drew in a breath. "They're bigger than us--stronger."

"How much bigger?" asked Shiall eagerly, her eyes glinting red in the firelight.

"I didn't see that much. They make you keep your head down on the ground."

She had a sudden flashback of lying prone, the winter ground thawing in the early spring sunshine. The strong odor of flesh and sweat.

Corlu rubbed her eyes. "Their language is different, but I think I understood a little of what they were saying. It seemed like they were picking people, choosing them for different reasons."

"So what are they looking for?" asked Shiall, leaning forward as if she would pull every last memory from Corlu.

"I don't know. They picked adults, strong adults, but then young children too." Corlu gulped, her hand moving to her mouth. The young child, barely able to walk. His screams, the raised hand, and then the silence.

Corlu covered her eyes. It all came back: the sense of helplessness, terror, and shame.

Suddenly she felt a warm pressure on her knee. "It must have been horrible."

Corlu glanced up to see that Deera had come to sit next to her. She stayed close and offered sympathy, but she did not tell Corlu that she needn't talk about it, needn't remember. Corlu was grateful. They were beyond that now.

"It all seemed so random. I was next--" Corlu choked out.

"You were?" Lian looked stunned. I . . . I didn't know that."

"One of them was reaching to pull me up when the horns blew, and they left. They took the ones they had in the carts, and then just left."

"Like they'd taken enough?" asked Shiall.

"No. It wasn't like that. It was as if they had to leave and leave quickly. Like something was going to happen to them, if they stayed around."

"Something scared them off," said Shiall.

"Something." Deera repeated. "The beast creature doesn't sound so childish now, does it?"

Shiall pulled a face, but doubt lingered there for a moment. The idea did make some sort of sense. "Well, it's good to know that there's something out there more powerful than them—something they're afraid of."

"Maybe," said Deera with a tiny smirk at Shiall. "But it's probably just one more thing for us to worry about."

A silence fell over the group. Eventually the last log fell into the center of the fire. The flames rose high for a moment and then subsided into a mound of red coals. Corlu was tired, but she got up and wandered a little away into the dark gloom of the trees in order to relieve herself before sleeping.

As she stared into the outer ring of darkness, she felt the old fear and anxiety return. It had all but disappeared over the last few days. Ever since the cliff climb, she had been filled with a sense of confidence about their expedition. For days they had wandered through the pine forest, encountering no danger or accident.

And no obstacles either. The land had continued to rise upwards as they walked, but they had always been able to keep within sight of the ocean. Then, as if following the outlines of the map, they had come to the peak and headed downwards. The landscape gradually changed from dusty wind-blown pines to lush green giants, towering over a jumble of ferns and moss-draped boulders.

Just when food had begun to be a worry, they had miraculously stumbled upon the stream-filled canyon where they were camped tonight. The four had spent the afternoon running around, calling to each other excitedly about every new discovery: mushrooms in the wet under the dark trees, clava root growing in masses along the stream, and then the galla nut bushes, their familiar red leaves sending a frisson of homesickness spiraling through Corlu's stomach.

They had eaten well, and Corlu was filled with a physical sense of well-being, but she was troubled by the conversation around the fire. It had brought up feelings and images she had tried to forget and, in a single moment, erased the lightness and freedom, the joy in leaving it all behind.

Suddenly there was a crack and quick rustling ahead of her and to the left. She froze and peered out into the darkness, trying to make out the dim outlines of the underbrush. Corlu told herself that it was just an animal moving around, but the fear kept her there, motionless. Had they been followed? Did the Clacamash actually make it down this far south?

There was another noise to the left. Crouching, Corlu inwardly cursed herself for letting her guard down.

Moments passed. The night lay silent all around her. The smell of moss and wet mulch filled her nostrils. Corlu's eyes had adjusted to the dark, but she could see nothing beyond the ring of trees. She waited for a moment more, and then, when she was sure the woods were empty, she returned to the safety of the firelight.

"Where were you?" Shiall asked sleepily from her rough bed on the ground.

Corlu pulled her blanket from the sack and found a space next to her by the fire. "I thought I heard something."

"Probably just an animal," said Shiall, absently pulling a twig from her hair.

"Maybe."

"Did you see anything?"

"No. It's too dark."

Shiall yawned and turned over. "Probably nothing then. I wouldn't worry about it."

Corlu nodded, but she remained awake with her back to the fire and her eyes open until exhaustion finally claimed her.

\- -

The next morning, Corlu awoke feeling tired and irritable. Stones had found their way up through the blanket, and her spine ached.

They all argued over what to eat for breakfast, and the argument continued as they decided which direction to take.

"If we turn that way we'll lose sight of the ocean," said Lian as they stared around at the breaks in the trees.

"It doesn't matter, Lian," Corlu snapped. "It's still going to be there whether we're walking right along beside it or not."

"Look, I know you're deathly afraid of the height, but—"

"That's not the reason!"

"Will you both stop arguing! Let's just go this way," interjected Shiall, trying to push her way around the two. Her abrupt movement against the foliage sent a shower of drops down upon them.

"Watch your step," Deera warned from behind.

All of them looked down to the moss-covered ground, slick with moisture, but it was too late. As Shiall stepped back behind Lian, Corlu was sent off balance and her foot slipped off the ridge. Accompanied by a series of resounding cracks, she tumbled down through the underbrush, slipping and grasping unsuccessfully at roots and branches. Near the bottom of the slope, her body made a full somersault sending her flying into a mass of large ferns.

Besides the throbbing in her head, the first thing Corlu noted was the stench. It filled her nostrils and mouth as if it was a solid substance, forcing her, choking and retching, to her knees. As the bile welled up in her throat, she realized what her right hand was planted amongst and threw herself backward with an animal scream.

Shiall reached her first, halting Corlu's unseeing scramble up the slope.

"What is it? Corlu!"

Corlu made to wipe her face and silently pointed to the clump of ferns. By this time, the other two had slid down towards them. They turned and followed her finger.

Lying atop each other as if clustered together for warmth were the remains of three corpses, the whiteness of the bones gleaming against the intense green of the forest floor. Enough flesh remained to show that one was the body of a small child.

Shiall turned away, gagging, but Lian and Deera stood as if paralyzed.

"Who are they?" Shiall finally groaned through the hand that covered her mouth and nose.

"They're from the villages," said Corlu from behind them. She had cleaned away the traces of sickness, but she was frantically trying to rub her hand clean with a handful of large leaves.

"What?" Lian turned towards her. "How do you know?"

"Look at the weave of the cloth. They're not Clacamash."

The others reluctantly turned back to the mass of flesh and bone. Scattered amongst the remains were tatters of blue and cream cloth, the colors of the northernmost village.

"Not from our village," Lian sighed with relief.

Deera rounded on him. "Does it matter?"

But Lian refused to be shamed. "Yes, it does," he returned. "It does."

"Come on. Let's go up," said Shiall, grabbing both their arms.

After one last horror-filled look, the four scrambled up the slope until the stench no longer lingered in the air. The sense of evil, however, filled the canyon and crept up the hillside, surrounding them all. No bird sang amongst the trees.

"What happened to them?" asked Deera. Tears streaked her face.

"Must have been the Clacamash," said Lian grimly.

Deera and Shiall nodded their heads in agreement, their minds working slowly, half-frozen by the shock.

All of them scanned the forest, the terror rising in their chests.

"They could still be out there. We have to go," hurried Shiall, speaking the words they all felt.

Corlu could feel the panic welling up in her also, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and think calmly. The bodies had lain there for a long time—no reason to think the enemy was out there watching them. "I think this happened sometime ago," she said.

Deera sighed. "And we can't just leave them there, whatever they died of."

The others were silent, torn between fear and duty. Inside Corlu a voice screamed at her to flee, to get away from the danger, the stench of death, but she knew she couldn't walk away. The thought of those bodies, lying vulnerable in the open air was too much for her. She stood up and spying a downed tree behind them, clambered up and grabbed hold of the nearest large branch. They were going to need a lot of wood, and they might as well get it over with.

Even though they worked quickly, the sun was riding high above them by the time they had gathered enough timber to light the fire. Only Deera had the courage to carefully arrange the logs and branches. The others blindly threw their load down with head averted and then hurried back up the slope for more.

When the pile was high enough, Corlu took out their flint and lit the kindling on both sides. The wood at first seemed reluctant to burn and simply sent up a spiral of lazy smoke. Corlu's brain was filled with gruesome images of bodies slowly smoking and turning black, but eventually the wood caught.

Before long, the small glade was filled with the heat and noise of a roaring fire, and eventually the corpses were hidden from view.

"To the earth, to the sky, and to the water," murmured Deera, tears on her lashes.

The others stood silently. Eventually Shiall turned away. "We have to go," she said, pointing toward the clouds of smoke filling the sky above the treetops.

Corlu nodded. Even if the Clacamash had had nothing to do with the deaths, it was still too risky to linger where they were.

When they reached the top of the slope, all four turned instinctively to the opening that wound closer alongside the cliffs. The dense and abundant forest had become a place of rotting decay and unseen enemies. The craved the cold ocean wind and the clean bare view of sea and sky.

\- -

After less than a day, however, they were forced to turn gradually inwards. For another two days, they crept through the trees like intruders, silent, nerves taut. At night, everyone took a turn at watch.

On the morning of the fourth day since they had found the bodies, there was a definite change in the landscape. The thickets of trees grew thin, and the green undergrowth of ferns, ivy, and small flowering shrubs had all but disappeared. The ground lost its wet sponginess and became increasingly sandy with ridges of rock, all of which they welcomed as a sign that they were heading back down to the coastline.

Late in the afternoon, sweating in the uncommonly warm spring weather, they came out of the last of the trees onto a bare outcrop of rock that gradually sloped upwards. The setting sun was far to their right, almost behind them. With a sense of dread impelling her forward, Corlu scrambled up the incline and then stood, looking down.

Sand. For as far as the eye could see stretched a desert of grey sand. To the left far in the distance lay a chain of grim mountains and a haze of black smoke. Peaks also rose close by on the right, entrapping the desert plain on both sides.

She looked over at Lian, remembering the day they had studied the map in the brachen. Sure enough, they had come to the Remains.
Chapter Ten

Fire and death walk the white hills

The wind sings through silent doorways.

No breath.

Our line is forgotten.

Corlu woke bleary-eyed to a shower of grit as the others sat up. It was their third morning amidst the gray sand dunes. She watched wearily as Lian attempted to spit, reached towards the flask, and then changed his mind. Corlu knew why. It was empty.

It was her fault, all her fault, and Lian knew it. When the others had wanted to backtrack, she had argued convincingly that they should move forwards, cut across the desert westwards to the ocean. And now as she lay here in the sand too weak to get up, she faced her guilt. They had followed her, and she'd been wrong. Again. So here they were in the Remains with no water and the wall of flame so vividly depicted on their map still to be encountered and overcome.

"Let's go," said Shiall her voice low and rasping.

Corlu rolled over and saw that Shiall was already packed, ready to walk away across the dunes.

"We need to get going." Shiall's tone was cold and she seemed to stare determinedly away from Corlu, as if afraid that eye contact would let loose a string of accusations.

The other two groaned and stood up, also avoiding Corlu's gaze, Corlu noted.

She began to roll up her own belongings. Her eyes stung, she felt dizzy, and her face and scalp burned in the heat that already shimmered in the air. Her thoughts seemed to swim in and out of focus like the shifting sand as it skittered across the desert.

Ahead of her, the others were already cresting the nearest dune. She forced herself to catch up, noting their slow, planned movements, as if they were afraid, afraid of falling and being left for dead.

The morning unraveled in a mirage of repetitive thoughts and monotonous steps. Corlu knew she that she was becoming increasingly confused, losing control, but she steadfastly stared at Lian's back, willing herself on. Then she stumbled and fell to her knees. She allowed herself to rest for a moment, hearing her breath rattling in her lungs.

When she looked up, wind was rising, sending sand sailing off the top of the dunes into swirls that blocked out the mountains, the horizon, and even the sky above. The hiss of its sweeping and ever changing patterns confused her. She looked down, pained by something cutting into her knees. Below the shifting sand was a layer of jagged black rock. Reaching out with one hand, she traced its rough contours until her thoughts sharpened.

She rose, steadied herself, and then peered up. The others were no longer in sight. Calling, she spun around in desperation. Had they left her? Returned to the forest and left her to die? She screamed their names, but there was no answer to her calls, just the skittering of sand particles and the howls of the rising wind. Sobbing, she screamed again and again.

Then in front of her, like a dream, standing firm amidst the sand storm was a stone wall and a doorway.

"Corlu!"

"Corlu!" The voice came from the doorway.

She struggled forward against the wind until she felt a rough grasp on her wrist.

"In here," shouted Deera and pulled her through the opening.

Corlu fell into the quiet dark of a tiny stone hut. Holes gaped in the back walls and ceiling, but there was escape from the sand and noise without. She looked at the others. Shiall and Lian were resting against one of the walls, eyes closed as if dead. Shiall looked up and smiled at her.

Corlu lay still for a few minutes, listening to the sand throw itself against the walls in furious gusts. Then looked around for Deera. "This is a house?" she croaked stupidly.

Deera was in the corner of the hut with her back to Corlu. "I know. It doesn't make sense. In the middle of the Remains . . ." She stopped, seemingly intent on digging at something from the ground.

Corlu struggled with her thoughts. She didn't know which train to follow first: her relief that the others hadn't actually hated her enough to leave her behind or the thought that they had found an actual house in the middle of this waste land. What might that mean in terms of the map.

"People must have lived here. Before the flames came . . . " She licked her chapped lips and then winced at the pain. They were raw and bleeding.

"Maybe the Clacamash," said Deera with a cough, but lapsed into distracted silence.

Corlu peered into the gloom. "What are you doing?"

Instead of answering, Deera held up a large bulbous root and gestured beside her. Sticking out of the sand and rock were an abundance of straw-like stalks.

"Dead plants?" Corlu had thought Deera was in better shape than the rest of them, but perhaps she had been wrong.

"Dactyl. My aunt used to talk about it. Where's your knife?"

Corlu reached behind to grab the pack and then stopped. "What do you want it for?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just give me the knife, Corlu."

Corlu slowly handed it over and then watched as Deera split open the root and lifted it to her mouth.

"Here," she said, passing it to Corlu who took the root hesitantly, not sure what she would see.

But, cupped inside the rough skin of the plant was a mouthful of water, a small mouthful of water, but enough to make Corlu's throat ache for the feel of it. She lifted it carefully to her mouth and frantically sucked at the moisture. When it was done, she closed her eyes, but her body screamed for more. She stumbled over to Deera and began digging.

Frowning Shiall opened her eyes and then Lian.

"Water," said Corlu, answering their unspoken question. Their blood-shot eyes filled with a tiny spark of hope.

Within an hour, they had pulled up nine more of the bulbs and had found the deeply buried taproot that extended the length of Corlu's body.

"Slowly. There's more than enough," cautioned Deera. "Open the tap root and fill up the flasks."

She turned to Corlu. "Where's that parcel Ana gave you? The agoura powder."

Corlu had forgotten about Ana's gift, though she had used the knife every day since they had begun their journey. An image of Ana in her brachen, smiling in the sun, made her throat constrict, but she forced herself to concentrate, pulling out the cloth, handing it to Deera.

Ignoring their questions, Deera took one of the cups and made a paste from the powder and water from the bulbs. The others then watched fascinated as she smeared the dark brown mixture over her face and arms. When she was entirely covered, she made more and then passed the cup to Lian. He recoiled violently. The mixture looked and stank faintly like excrement.

"It's for the burns. Put it on. All over!" Deera barked, and the others, without a word, obeyed.

With their thirst quenched and their skin cooled by the strange cracking paste that covered their limbs and face, they fell into an exhausted sleep.

\- - -

Corlu woke to a narrow shaft of sunlight burning into her cheek. She grunted and moved into the shadow, desiring only to fall back into sleep, but a hand shook her back to consciousness.

"Time to wake," said Deera.

Corlu groaned. For the first time in days, she felt rested and, while her limbs ached, the burning that had increased with every day in the desert had faded. The revolting agoura paste had done its work. All she wanted to do was drink more and then sleep. She knew it was morning, but they had agreed to wait until the cool of the evening before venturing out. She had hours more to rest.

"I thought we were waiting for nightfall," she muttered irritably, eyes still tightly closed.

Deera's voice moved further away. "It's almost time. The sun is setting now."

Startled by how long she had slept, Corlu opened her eyes and sat up. Deera was standing in the doorway, a dark silhouette against an orange backdrop.

"We slept that long?" asked Shiall joining her and looking out.

Deera smiled and threw her arm around the other girl's neck. "We needed it."

Shiall grimaced. "You smell like—"

"Don't say it," groaned Lian. "I don't want to be sick."

Corlu looked at the three of them and then down at her own body. They looked like strange creatures with matted hair and eyes that peered out of a grey green mud skin.

She laughed. "If you could see what you look like . . ."

"Yes? Well you too," said Lian. "The prettiest girls in the village!"

As the three girls laughed, a ray of the setting sun caught Corlu's eye as it played over the wall of the hut. She gasped. Where the ceiling met the wall were a series of fading painted symbols: a circle with a rough flower design, a triangle enclosing a fish, and another circle, denoting the sun. They were the standard symbols placed in all new village houses during the ceremony that celebrated the new home. She closed her eyes as the thought of her grandfather's house stabbed through her with a slash of homesickness that made her groan out loud.

"I'm fine," she muttered quickly, as the others glanced at her in concern. "Look," she pointed. Her voice came out on a strange high note that broke mid-word, but they stopped and looked up to where she pointed.

"But those are the home symbols!" said Lian, peering upwards.

"Yes and how did they get here?" asked Corlu.

On one of the symbols, there was gleam brighter than the rest. She peered closer. Sure enough, against the age-dulled texture of old paint sparkled the tiniest speck of shimmering purple, a scrap of paint that had somehow survived the roll of years and one that matched the color of the mountains on their lost map. She grabbed Lian's arm. "The map."

He stared and then nodded. "It's the same color."

"Not one we use," said Deera frowning.

Corlu stood on tiptoes to study the symbol more closely. "But maybe one we used to. The home symbols are exactly the same."

"Are you saying people like us lived here?" asked Shiall.

"Yes or maybe . . . " Corlu answered before Lian interrupted.

"Not just people like us. This is where we come from. I thought we came down from the hills, but we must have come from the desert, from here."

There was a long silence. Then Shiall asked the question their thoughts had all led to: "So why did we leave?"

No one answered. They wandered off, peering into corners, searching for more symbols, anything that tied this empty stone hut back to the village so far away. But there was nothing more. The stone house would yield no more secrets.

\- - -

Halfway to the foothills, Corlu realized that the deep grey sand had returned and the strange black rock had disappeared. Walking became harder, so they called a break. Corlu sat down by Deera on the cooling sand as the sky turned to purple above them.

"Do you think there were more ruins back there?" she asked, scratching at the dried paste behind her ear.

Deera paused before she spoke. "I think so. I think there was a whole village of people who used to live here."

"How?" Corlu threw her arm out at the barren silvered landscape. "How could they exist?"

"I don't think it was always like this," said Deera meditatively. "Look behind us."

Corlu stood up and looked back from whence they had come. To her right, far off in the distance the tallest mountain smoked, and in a line from the mountain ran a swathe of black rock, a giant's path. All was caught up in the light from the nearly full moon, black rock, silver grey sand, like a dark river stone inset in the frost.

"My aunt spoke of mountains that suddenly spewed hot fire and black rivers of fiery rock."

Corlu turned back to Deera. "You think that rock came from the mountain?"

"Yes and I think it destroyed the people who lived here. Maybe some escaped." She shrugged.

In Corlu's mind she saw the bright orange flames on the map. "The map . . ."

"Yes. Not a wall of flames, but something that happened in the past. Perhaps an explanation; not a warning."

"All those stories that stopped us from leaving. All this time—"

Deera sighed, and Corlu remembered for the first time that she had lost her aunt to the last Clacamash raid, the aunt who had taught her the plant knowledge that had saved them all. She waited for Deera to speak.

"That's why . . . That's why when we reach the sea, Corlu, it's time to turn back, so we can tell the villages."

"Without finding the Kytheland?"

Deera sighed. "Corlu, this might be the Kytheland. This is where we came from."

"But." Corlu gestured at the fire-wracked landscape all around them. No waterfalls or sweet grass. No river dancing to meet the sea. Then she understood. "Before the fire, this was the Kytheland" she said dully, feeling the dream vanish. "I understand"

Corlu took one last look at the river of black rock as it wound its way through the sea of sand and then picked up her sack. The only thing left to do was to go on. .

Chapter Eight

Something cried out above the usual birdcalls, followed by a quick rustling. An arrow sliced past Corlu's ear and pierced the tree in front of her. She froze. Spinning, she dropped to the ground and scanned the trees ahead. There was nothing. Her eyes darted back and forth to where branches moved, leaves shook, but it was only the breeze playing in the forest as it made its way up from the ocean. There was no sign of where the arrow had come from.

Heart beating, sick to her stomach, Corlu waited, her mind returning to the fears of the last two days.

Someone had been watching them, following them; sometimes close, sometimes dropping back, but always there, an oppressive presence that had even trespassed into the realm of her dreams.

This morning she had woken and gone to relieve herself without giving it a thought. And then the arrow. The first tangible sign that someone or something was out there.

After a few minutes of fear and waiting, when the birds had resumed their chattering calls, Corlu jumped up and grabbed at the arrow, intending to pull it out quickly and then drop back down out of sight. There was no use in running, and she had to get a close look at the arrow's fletching. Something about it looked vaguely familiar. She tugged hard, but the arrow stayed put. Twisting frantically, she pulled again, all the while, her back prickling, anticipating yet another arrow.

With one last wrench it came free, and Corlu knelt down in the undergrowth, panting in relief. The tip had sliced the side of her left hand, but she ignored the pain and bleeding and studied the arrow. It was small and crudely made.

She stared out one last time into the clearing and then turned and crawled back to the camp.

"You're bleeding!" Shiall grabbed her arm. "What happened?"

Without a word, Corlu raised the arrow and handed it to her.

"You were shot? Where? Who was it?" Lian and Deera had now gathered around her.

"The arrow missed me." Corlu winced and then groaned as Deera grabbed the hand she had cut on the arrow. "On purpose I think. I couldn't see anyone, but I've felt something following us for a couple of days."

Instinctively the other three raised their heads and scanned the forest. Sun filtered through the trees that surrounded the glade, but the woods became increasingly denser and darker in the direction they were heading. They had been planning to follow a tree-filled canyon down to the water, its cascading falls a sure sign that there was an outlet to the sea.

A wave of intense nausea suddenly hit Corlu in the stomach. The full realization of what had just happened and what could happen seared through her brain. She sat down quickly. The others joined her, eyes darting nervously at the surrounding trees.

"I've felt it too," Shiall said. "I thought I was just imagining things, getting used to the forest again after the desert."

"Someone's warning us," added Lian, studying the arrow. "I think we need to head further east or get down to the beach quickly."

Deera nodded as she wound a piece of cloth around Corlu's injured hand. "At least we can see who's shooting us down there."

"Maybe they own the whole area; coastline included," Shiall said grimly. "They want us out of their territory."

Corlu looked over at Lian. "You see the similarities." It was a statement rather than a question. Both of them had studied the art under Lian's mother, one of the few adults in their village who knew how to make and shoot the small arrows.

"What?" Shiall turned sharply on them.

Lian held out the arrow and pointed to its fletching of feathers and the small blunt arrowhead. "This is how my mother taught us to make arrows. The style is very similar."

"Yes?" queried Shiall, peering closely. "And?"

Lian exchanged glances with Corlu and then shrugged. "I'm not sure what it means, but this style is as close to our way of craft as . . . as how they make them in the other villages."

"What are you saying? That we're being attacked by someone from the village? Someone from the village is here? That's ridiculous! You know it's the Clacamash!"

Shiall's voice had risen, and Corlu grabbed her wrist. She kept her voice low, but the tension hissed through her clenched teeth. "Keep your voice down. I don't understand, but maybe we should wait, search the area."

"Are you mad?" demanded Shiall. "We have to leave now and quickly. The Clacamash are here. It may already be too late."

"She's right. We have to go now," Deera said.

Corlu looked at Lian. He nodded. "It has to be the Clacamash."

The fear was contagious. Corlu got up without another word. Grimly, the four separated. They gathered their sacks, kicked over the fire, and, in a matter of moments, were weaving a path down through the thick bushes that screened the top of the canyon. They had become adept at quickly and quietly decamping.

Corlu led the way, panicking every time she had to duck under branches since it meant her vision was momentarily obscured. In her quick frightened glances, trees loomed like human figures and swinging branches like sword arms. She moved faster and faster, almost stumbling down the slope in her haste to gain the clearance surrounding the falls.

She had almost reached the boulders, sweat dripping in her eyes, when above the roar of the waterfall, she again heard the strange call. It came from behind them.

"Get down," she cried, turning quickly and falling to the ground as Lian came crashing into her. Over his back, she saw Shiall crouch down. Then came a crashing through the underbrush, loud and unmistakable, and then a more familiar cry.

Shiall was on her feet, screaming for Deera, as she ran back the way they had come. With her body's pulse pounding in her throat, Corlu darted panicked glances all around, and then peered into the gloom, trying to make out where Shiall had gone.

Then a movement to her right caught her glance and she froze. A branch waved back and forth as if recently caught and released. She clamped down on Lian's arm and they both stared, bodies tensed, ready to run.

There was a quick fluttering and a bird flew up out of the foliage. Lian cursed, let out a breath, and moved from his stomach to a squatting position. He opened his mouth to speak, but Corlu cut him off with a gesture. She wasn't sure that it had only been a bird springing into flight. All around she felt eyes staring at her from the dense forest, trapping her. Her breath came harshly as the panic rose. There was nowhere to go, no escape.

Shiall's frightened voice called from nearby. The sound of pounding footsteps filled the forest air.

Lian and Corlu stopped mid-movement, unsure whether to run towards the voice or make for the stream. Then Shiall came crashing through the bushes. Tears streaked through the dirt caking her face and neck.

"They've got Deera."

"What?" Corlu gasped.

"She's not there." Shiall raised shaking hands to her face and swaying backwards and forwards as if drunk with mid-summer wine. "She was right behind me. Right behind me. I heard the noise . . . she's not there." She let out a choking noise. "I can't find her. You have to help me."

She turned back as if to leave, but Lian grabbed her arm. "Who? Did you see them?"

"No. I didn't see anything . . . I just heard a struggle." She pulled at Lian's hand, her voice rising with panic. "What are we going to do?"

Corlu moved past Shiall and followed their trail back for a little way, the other two close behind her. She searched the forest for traces, but its dark gloom offered no help. The bird sound had ceased, and there was only the sound of the breeze picking up against the softened roar of the falls.

She cupped her hands. "Deera," she screamed. Her voice was muffled by the deep woods, but then came the echo that raised the hair at the back of her neck: her voice, but distorted and strange. The noise in the quiet was unnerving. She froze for a minute, staring at the others in horror, as if she had broken some primeval taboo. She waited to be taken, but there was only stillness.

The moment passed, and they moved outwards from each other. No longer caring, Lian and Shiall took up the cry, ripping aside branches as they searched the side of the canyon.

Tears were streaming down Corlu's face now. Deera was gone. Was she hurt, frightened? Was her life being taken at this very moment? Corlu moaned at the thought. She was searching for Mari all over again, pulling aside reeds to get to the brachen, trying to erase the images of the Clacamash and their bright swords, her sister's terrified eyes merging with those of Deera.

Corlu stopped, hands on knees. "No," she wept, repeating the word over and over again as if it would bring Deera back. Against her will, her mind filled with images, painful in their poignancy: Deera laughing at one of Lian's stupid jokes, Deera holding out a hand as she helped Corlu up the cliff face, her brown eyes soft and kind, Deera lying quietly in the firelight, listening to the others speak. After everything, after the distance they had journeyed, after the sea, the cliffs, the Remains, she had failed. She had lost her.

When her hoarse sobs subsided, Corlu wiped the mucus from her upper lip with the back of her bandaged hand, straightened, and looked around. Where were the others? Shiall had been clearly in view last time she had noticed. The woods were silent. She could not hear the crashing or calls of the others as they searched.

Turning on her heel to head back the way she had come, she felt a hand on her back. She cried out and then saw only darkness as a foul-smelling cloth was thrown over her head and tightened from behind. Then came the blow.
Chapter Nine

"You're a idiot, Fram."

"What!"

"How do you think we're going to get them down with this over their heads? It's stupid."

"It was your idea."

"Yes. And now—"

"Shut up, the pair of you. They can hear you."

Corlu heard the words as if at a great distance. Something was covering her eyes. Her head was spinning and she was having a hard time keeping her balance and remaining upright, but she forced herself to concentrate. She had to make sure that the voices were speaking in her tongue. The inanity and childish tone of the conversation confused her, made her think she must be dreaming. Surely she wasn't unconsciously translating Clacamash?

She shook her head and tried to listen closely, but the conversation had faded to a whispering buzz. Behind it was the faint crash of waves breaking against the shore. She was near the ocean then. She had dim memories of staggering in the dark down a rough path, but she had lost sense of time since the blow to her head.

Were the others with her? Was Deera here?

Corlu coughed. Her throat was rough from breathing through the wretched cloth that bound her face, but she swallowed and took a breath. "Lian?" she croaked. "Lian?"

There was the sound of movement and then Lian's voice. "Corlu, I'm here."

Someone grabbed her arm roughly, sending her stumbling. "Be quiet!" The voice was followed by frantic whispers and then someone helped her up.

"Who are you?" she said more loudly. "I can hear you. I understand you."

She pulled against the rope that tied her hands behind her back, and when no violence followed, she spoke out boldly. "Lian, where are you? Shiall? Is Deera here?"

She tensed, expecting a rough grasp or perhaps a blow that would knock her to her knees, but none came. Instead, the cloth was dragged off her face. She gasped and blinked.

She stood on a grassy slope that overlooked the ocean, and in front of her was a group of children, the eldest at least a couple of years younger than her. She gasped, causing a flurry of scowls.

There were seven of them—four boys and three girls. They were dressed in a motley collection of grimy tunics that crudely resembled those made back in the village. Their hair was long, the matted locks tied back with bits of rope and plant stems, and in each of their hands was an extremely sharp knife.

Corlu didn't know whether to laugh or to make an escape. Hearing a grunt from behind her, she turned. Shiall and Lian were being unhooded. They, too, gasped when they caught their first sight of their captors.

"Where's Deera?" were the first words out of Shiall's mouth. "Where is she?"

"The other one is over there," said one of the boys gruffly. He received threatening looks from the others, but the group parted to reveal Deera, sitting on the ground with her head hanging between her knees.

Deera looked up and smiled weakly. "I'm not hurt. One of them was a little eager when it came to capturing me."

Shiall groaned as if she had been personally hurt and made to run over to her, but she was instantly stopped by a row of knives.

"No!" yelled a boy with a bright red thatch of hair. "She's resting before we take you down to Alba."

"Who?" Corlu demanded, towering over him. "Who's Alba?"

The eldest of the girls shoved the boy aside and stuck her face as far as she could up into Corlu's. Her breath stank like rotted seaweed. "No more questions. It's time to go." Obviously their leader, thought Corlu.

She opened her mouth to say more, but was violently pushed from behind towards the ocean. The ground ran downwards to the water, but ended abruptly in a crumbling cliff. Corlu instantly tensed and frantically looked around for the others. They, too, were being prodded and pushed towards the edge, even Deera whose face was still pale and waxen.

"Move it," growled the girl who was in charge.

When Corlu began to struggle, out came the knife. It was placed expertly at Corlu's throat. "Move, or die."

"Go ahead," yelled Corlu, furious. "I'd rather you stabbed me than be pushed over a cliff." She laughed hysterically. "What a choice."

Strangely, the girl herself began to laugh, emitting loud choking hoots and snorts. "We're not going to push you over. Why would we push you over?" Wiping her eyes, she pointed down towards a stand of scrubby bushes. "There's a ladder!"

She gave one last guffaw, and then the weirdly fierce expression snapped back into place. Raising the knife, she sliced through the rope that tied Corlu's hands and then gestured with it towards the bushes. "So. For the last time. Move!"

Corlu looked back at Lian and the others with a question in her eyes. Lian shook his head. He was right. What was the point in risking injury or death when they all wanted to know who these children were and where they came from?

And, the only way to get answers to their questions was to go see this Alba. Corlu smiled grimly and followed the redheaded boy to the ladder.

If anything could have matched the horror of the cliff climb up from the sea caves, it was the descent down the flimsy rope ladder. As Corlu searched for the next rung with her foot, the ladder swayed back and forth in the wind, rubbing the thin straggly-looking ropes against the rock face. The ladder moaned and groaned, as if carrying too much weight. Every time Corlu slowed down, the fierce girl's foot came stamping down on her fingers and she was advised to "hurry up or else!"

"These knots are really shoddy," called Lian somewhere above her.

The sky turned upside down for a moment in a jerky spinning motion. Corlu blanched, but held on tightly until the dizziness had passed. "Shut up, Lian!"

"Sorry. It's just I can't believe it's lasted more than a---"

"Enough talking," shouted one of the boys. "Move!"

Corlu was wondering how long her sweaty, grazed fingers were going to last when surprisingly the rock face she had been staring at suddenly curved away backwards underneath the cliff in a small cave. There was a short drop, and then she was on the ground.

She turned shakily away from the ladder and was instantly grabbed by the red-haired boy. A knife pricked at her back.

"Wait here," he growled and then held his hand up to the fierce girl before she jumped down. "Pass me the rope, Eli."

In an instant, the two had tied Corlu's hands behind her back again and were doing the same to the others.

"Where are we going?" Corlu demanded, but received no answer.

Eli motioned her forward along the sand. Ahead was the ocean. Corlu scrunched her eyes against the sparkle and glare of the mid-afternoon sun. But, instead of heading towards the rollers, Corlu was steered along the edge of the rock face.

Unexpectedly, she rounded a corner and gasped in amazement. In front of her opened up a wide river valley dominated by an enormous waterfall, sparkling in the sunlight. The water thundered down over the precipice and then spread slowly outward forming a wide river that flowed to the sea. Tiny sandy islands and mud flats dotted the mouth of the river, and green rushes covered the riverbanks.

As she stumbled forward, Corlu was able to turn around and catch Shiall's eye. Her own excitement was mirrored there. The Kytheland, the place of myth and children's story. She could hear the rasping voice of Old Man Keal: Far away to the south is a land of softness and joy, a river fills the valley and dances as it runs to meet the sea. The grasses are sweet, and the nuts fall like red-golden leaves. Above it all are the Falls with their arcs of colored light. Our people came from this land and to this land shall return.

Corlu laughed out loud. The Kytheland. They had found it! It was unbelievable, but true—Old Man Keal had been proven right. This was where they had come from and where they would return, for surely they had found their new home, a place where the villagers could live in peace and isolation.

Corlu stared hungrily at the scene before her. The very air glowed with a special light and yet the landscape stood out sharp and clear. This was place for their village.

All they had to do was figure out who these children were and how they had gotten here in the first place. As soon as they made contact with whoever was in charge, they could start planning how to bring the entire village down the coast. Corlu strode ahead eager to meet Alba.

When they drew closer to the riverbanks, Lian called out. "Look, there's another one."

Corlu peered into the distance. Far off, she could make out yet another gigantic cataract, its water further enriching the wet river valley. She twisted her head back and forth, excitedly taking it all in and already imagining how she would describe the scene to Ana—the rich green and brown wetlands, the forest and waterfall behind, the wild blue ocean breaking on the sands.

"Stop," ordered Eli, as they came to the edge of the greenish brown waters. She held up a grimy hand covered in what looked like blood.

One of the girls let out a high call that Corlu recognized from the forest. Across the river, there was movement on the banks of the largest island, and soon Corlu could make out a couple of brachen making their way sideways to the current. As they drew closer, Corlu noted their clumsy design. They were larger than the ones made in the village, and, instead of making the usual swift crisp lines, they wove and teetered as if uneasy in the water.

"You and you go in this one with Fram and me," said Eli, pointing to Deera and Corlu.

As the redheaded boy held the brachen steady, Corlu awkwardly lowered herself into the boat and then helplessly watched as Deera tumbled in. Fram seemed to find pleasure in seeing her fall.

"Help her," Corlu snapped at him, straining against the rope around her wrists.

Fram simply smirked and turned away. He seemed to have something wrong with his eyes and was continually rubbing them as if by habit.

"I'm fine," said Deera, rearranging herself as best she could at the bottom of the boat.

"Are you sure?" Corlu asked, searching her face anxiously.

Deera had a little more color, but she was still pale and her face looked ill and fatigued. Corlu moved closer and attempted to help her get comfortable. She scowled at Fram.

"She needs water," she demanded of Eli, but the girl simply prodded Corlu with the knife. Corlu rolled her eyes, but decided to be patient and wait. As soon as they got over to the island, they would be freed from the control of these brutish children, and they could get some aid for Deera.

The brachen made its slow lurching way over to the mud banks. Corlu was too concerned with the craft capsizing and leaving them helpless in the water to pay much attention to what lay ahead. Periodically, she twisted her head to make sure that Lian and Shiall were still afloat, but the pitching of the boat made even this difficult.

When they finally slid up onto the mud of the island, Corlu caught a quick glimpse of a path in the undergrowth before the bushes erupted with a crowd of children, small children, older ones, girls as tall as her. Corlu gasped. Their hair was matted and their tunics ragged, but they were clearly not Clacamash.

"Are all of them from the villages? Do you come from the villages?" she demanded of Eli, forgetting the knife in the growing realization of who these children were. Could they all be here? All of the children stolen through the years, not sacrificed in some bloody ritual, but safe and sound?

A strange look passed over the girl's face before she grunted and pushed Corlu out of the brachen. Corlu barely had time to register it, before the mob of children descended on the boats.

"You!" yelled Eli, cuffing a small girl. "You're supposed to be on look out duty on the other side."

The little girl looked terrified.

"Grab her arms," Eli yelled to a contingent of older children. "Take her up to the hut."

"No!" screamed the girl. "Please, Eli. I checked before I left. I didn't—"

Her cries were cut off by a violent slap from Fram that sent her staggering to the ground.

Shocked, Corlu stumbled over to help her up, but Fram waved her back with his knife. He grinned. Corlu felt anger surging through her body. If her hands had been free, she would have knocked the boy to the ground.

Instead, she turned angrily to Eli, gesturing to the girl being pulled by her arms back into the bushes, blood pouring down her face. "What are you doing? She's hurt."

Eli shrugged and methodically tied up the brachen. "She broke the most important rule. She left her post."

"She's a child!" snapped Corlu, instantly recognizing the ridiculousness of expressing such a notion to a girl who herself was barely old enough to take out a brachen.

Eli simply pointed up through the bushes and shoved Corlu in front of her. The remainder of the children surrounded Corlu, staring and chattering excitedly until Eli commanded them to stop. The other boats had come to shore and they now made quite a crowd.

Looking back at Lian and Shiall, Corlu suddenly felt a tug at her waist. A little girl the age of Mari was staring up at her. "I'm not a child!" she announced triumphantly.

Corlu attempted a smile. "No," she said quietly. "You're a big girl. What's your name?"

"You're my prisoner," answered the girl.

"Yes," said Corlu gently. "And what's your name?"

The little girl continued to hold onto Corlu's clothing, but she would make no other answer.

There were no trees on the island; just water grasses and low-lying shrubs. They hadn't gone too far before Corlu could make out their camp—a cluster of roughly built shelters thrown up against the scant protection of the bushes. There were about fifteen of them scattered across the center of the small island. In between the shelters, stone-encircled fires smoldered in the late afternoon light.

As they neared the camp, more children appeared from the habitations. They ranged from small children of five or six years to boys and girls on the verge of adulthood. Their clothes were falling off them, and, while they stared at the newcomers with interest, their bodies radiated a strange lethargy and indifference. The camp smelled of smoke and unwashed bodies undercut by the odor of salt and decaying vegetation.

The small girl pulled Corlu forward past the crowds of children. Corlu attempted to make eye contact with a couple of them, but they simply stared and then turned to mutter to their neighbor.

"Hurry up," urged her small captor. "Alba wants to see you. She's been waiting."

"Who is Alba?" asked Corlu.

The girl looked up puzzled. "She's Alba."

"What do you mean? Is she your leader?"

There was no answer. The girl pulled at a stalk of winter grass and mashed it between her fingers

Corlu decided to change tactics. "What's that big hut over there?" she asked, pointing to a shelter that stood on the edge of the settlement at a distance from the rest of the ramshackle huts and lean-tos.

"That's where the prisoner lives," the girl said with a grin.

"Who is your prisoner? Is she like me?"

The girl laughed. "Not like you! Don't you know anything?"

Corlu was about to ask her more, but the contingent suddenly stopped before a shelter. Someone was emerging from the hole that had been built into the mud below the thatch of branches. She was tall, so tall that she almost had to bend double to exit the hut. When she straightened up, she towered over the children and even Corlu was forced to put back her head to meet her eyes, sea-blue eyes that pierced Corlu with a strange and chilling lack of life.

The figure held Corlu's gaze for a moment and then slowly moved onto Shiall, Deera, and then Lian. The crowd had fallen silent, waiting for the girl to speak. She took her time, sweeping her impenetrable gaze back over the prisoners, taking in their clothing, sacks, and newly muscled arms. Corlu realized that she was holding her breath. She forced herself to let it out and breathe naturally.

Then the leader smiled, a slow smile that shook years off her face and returned warmth to her eyes, for now Corlu could see that she was a girl, not much older than Corlu, with hair the color of sunshine like Mari's.

"I'm Alba," she said, moving forward. "You've come from the camps, and you're tired, but first, we need to know which one?"

Corlu hesitated to speak for all of them and exchanged quick glances with the others.

"I'm Corlu. This is Deera." She twisted and gestured: "Shiall, and Lian. I don't know what camps you're speaking of. We come from the villages."

This time it was their captors who registered shock. Curiosity suddenly flashed in the girl's eyes, and a loud muttering rose from the crowds behind them.

"Stop!" The word rang loud above the murmuring. In an instant, the crowd became quiet, stopping mid-sentence to turn back to Alba as she stood, arm raised in a gesture of command.

"You come from the villages. What do you mean?"

Corlu swallowed and looked around at the others to see if they wanted her to speak first. Lian nodded and quietly stepped closer behind her. The gesture was reassuring, but Corlu felt the danger like a knife at her throat. Alba's eyes were flat again. There was no welcome, despite her words, and no sign as to what she was thinking.

"Over twenty days ago, we left the south village, searching for a new home, away from the Clacamash—"

A loud murmuring of voices again arose, but was silenced by another signal from Alba.

"You know then of the Clacamash?"

Alba nodded and motioned for Corlu to continue.

"The raids have been more frequent. They've taken many of our friends, neighbors, and families. We—" Corlu gestured back towards the others. "We wanted to look for a new place for the village, safe from the Clacamash. The council didn't agree, but we came. We crossed the desert four . . . five days ago. We didn't expect to see anyone from the villages." Corlu faltered, caught up in her own curiosity. "How did you get here? Where did you come from? Are you from the villages?"

Instead of answering her questions, Alba turned to Eli and the red-haired boy. "Fram! Eli!"

The two sprang forward and forced Corlu to her knees. She cried out in surprise and felt the others move to help her, only to be stopped by the crowd. The girl Eli ripped at the tunic covering Corlu's left shoulder, while Fram kept hold of her neck, forcing her forward and digging at her skin with his nails. Despite the pain in her knees, Corlu instinctively straightened and threw Alba a defiant look.

"No mark!" cried someone from behind her. "She's telling the truth."

Alba signaled to Fram and Eli and they roughly checked the others.

"No mark! No mark!" The crowd grew louder and swelled forward as if it would engulf the prisoners.

"Put them with the prisoner" cried Fram.

Alba stepped forward and stared hard at Corlu's shoulder. She paused for a moment, and then, without warning, struck Fram to the ground. He fell hard against an outcrop of rock and cried out, but no one moved to help him.

"Come with me," Alba motioned to the doorway of the hut from which she had emerged and, without another word, stepped inside.

Corlu turned back towards the others, but they were already beside her: Lian's hand on her shoulder, Deera and Shiall's arms around her waist. Shiall pushed her forward, and they moved towards the dark hole of the hut.

Before she stepped inside, Corlu cast a glance at the surrounding crowd. Most of them were her own age or younger. They were thin and wiry. Dirt caked their faces like permanent blemishes. They stared blankly back at Corlu. If she and the others had passed some type of test, were now accepted into the community, the crowd gave no sign. A boy rubbed at his runny nose and wiped his hand against his thigh, but the rest remained still, staring at Corlu. There was no hostility in their eyes, but no welcome either. Neither warmth nor friendliness, as if it mattered little whether they had been killed as outsiders or embraced as friends.
Chapter Ten

Corlu paused a moment on the threshold of the hut, trying to get a sense of her surroundings in the gloom, but Shiall was right behind her, and she had to move forward or risk falling awkwardly. She caught herself in time and attempted to step down with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Sit," ordered Alba from somewhere to her right.

Corlu slowly lowered herself onto a thin layer of rough blankets and peered across the hut, her eyes gradually making out shapes in the dark. Alba was sitting on the other side of a disused fire pit with her arm lying on what Corlu first took to be a large pile of blankets. Then the pile moved, and a face appeared, a thin, pinched face, haunted by a set of brown-black eyes.

Ignoring Corlu and the others, Alba turned to the figure. "You heard us outside?"

"I heard." The figure coughed, a harsh dry rasp, and then slowly sat up—a girl, older than Corlu, with the wasted figure of the very ill.

Alba reached out and gently smoothed a strand of dark hair away from the girl's face. "I wanted you to see them as they told us their story." Her voice was soft and full of love.

The girl, however, simply nodded and then turned back to scan Corlu and the others.

"This," said Alba, "is Leela. She'll want to hear your story—how you got here, where you come from."

Corlu opened her mouth to speak, but Lian and Shiall were already speaking, questions tumbling out of their mouths. "But where do all of you come from?" "How did you get here? What is the mark?"

Alba laughed, but held up her hand. They fell quiet, a little annoyed, but sensing the power that lay behind that gesture: "I know you have questions, but tell me your story again more slowly. Don't leave anything out."

While politely stated, Alba's words were not a request, and so, shrugging, Corlu started at the beginning.

The story took longer than she would've thought the second time around. Alba frequently interrupted with prompts and questions about the village, the length of the different steps of their journey, where they had camped, what they had seen. Afterwards, Corlu was taken aback to recall how many personal details had also somehow emerged in her story, how many of her feelings and thoughts had escaped as she had answered.

Alba grunted approvingly as Corlu finally wound up their story. She handed a wooden cup across to Corlu. It was filled with water, tepid and with a faint odor of mud. "You are well rid of that pack of fear-ridden elders. We also refuse to give in to the Clacamash."

"Yes?" said Shiall, interrupting impatiently. "So tell us. How did you get here? Where did you come from?"

Instead of answering, Alba frowned at Shiall and then turned to the girl by her side. Leela stared out at them for a moment through a cloak of dark hair and then nodded once, before settling back down into her pile of blankets. Corlu wondered what was wrong with her, whether she was sick or injured, but this thought was soon lost in the words that followed.

"We're all villagers here, but every one of us comes from the camps, " began Alba. "All of us were taken by the Clacamash when we were children and made to work in the mines."

"The mines?'

"The Clacamash need the metal for their wars, you see, but they don't want to risk their own lives when they can always get more of us. And I'm not talking about the small mine the villages use. These mines are deep underground and they're huge. Tunnel after tunnel."

Alba rolled up the sleeve of her rough tunic and thrust her shoulder towards Corlu. The skin was puckered and seamed, but Corlu could make out the black imprint of a crossed circle.

"They brand you when you arrive—like their animals. The hot iron, the smell of burning flesh, your flesh--you think it's the worst that can happen to you." She laughed grimly.

"So that's why they take us—to work; not to kill?" asked Shiall, leaning forward urgently.

Alba shrugged as if the answer made no difference. "In the end—even if you survive the tunnel collapses—you die. There's never enough food and the work is hard. Children get sick . . . the beatings are brutal."

She paused and searched for Leela's hand. Corlu willed back the images that filled her mind. Her mother watching helplessly as a Clacamash stood laughing over her dead father. Their faces were vague, but the blood and the wounds were as vivid as if she was actually there.

Alba's voice went on. "After awhile—I don't know how much time had passed since I was taken--some of us heard that you could head south, that if you could escape, the Clacamash wouldn't follow you south. That the Kytheland really existed. So we planned it all out. This was six, seven springs ago. We didn't think we would make it out of the camps, but we knew it was better than slowly starving to death.

"The night we left we were lucky. There was an attack on the mines—"

"An attack?" interrupted Shiall. "Who was attacking them?"

"The other group of Clacamash. They call themselves the Inheritors—"

"But who are they?" Shiall broke in again. "Are they stronger?"

Alba glared at her and threw up her hand in what was becoming a familiar signal. Shiall rolled her eyes at Corlu, but she remained silent.

Before Alba could continue, Leela's harsh voice arose out of the corner. "We forget. We forget that they keep you ignorant in the Villages, ignorant of the truth, so that you'll simply accept. You've lived in the dark like small babes at the breast. Now it's time for you to learn the truth." The strange tirade ended in a fit of coughing. Corlu's eyes met Lian's. The girl's language seemed slightly ridiculous, but there was something chilling, almost threatening about her.

Alba cast about, searching for a cup to fill from the water jug, found it, and gently helped the sick girl to drink. She received no thanks, just a dismissive wave of a hand, as Leela sank back onto the blankets and pushed away the cup.

Again Corlu's eyes found Lian's. This was a strange relationship. Was Alba the acknowledged leader or did this girl hold the reins of power deep inside the darkness of the hut?

As if she caught the sense of their thoughts and wished to distract them, Alba straightened up, throwing back that mane of thick golden hair, and picked up the story. "Your elders practice evil through cowardice, but the Clacamash are worse than animals. Every thought, every action, even their own relationships with each other are based in evil."

Corlu shivered in the heavy fetid air. "Evil" was not part of the village lexicon. Nothing was evil; it simply was. Anything else was superstitious children's nonsense.

Alba took a drink. "They even fight and kill each other. Not just in the heat of battle, but slowly, as punishment."

Corlu clenched her fists in the dark. The idea was sickening.

"It's true," said Alba defensively. "We saw many prisoners killed."

"Prisoners?" asked Lian.

"The Clacamash are at war amongst themselves. They fight to control the mines. When they attacked that night, we gathered a group and escaped. We were lucky."

"And the adults?" Corlu interrupted. "Are there adults that escaped?"

Leela gave a harsh scornful laugh.

"Only children," answered Alba. "We hardly ever saw the adults. They worked deep in the mines or never came back from the battlefields."

"What do you mean?" Deera asked, leaning forward. "Why were they on the battlefield?"

"They didn't take up arms with the Clacamash did they?" demanded Lian.

Leela gave another scornful laugh. "They might as well have done."

Alba gave her a worried look. "You need to rest, Leela."

"I'm fine," snapped the girl and lay back into the darkness.

Lian looked at Alba. "Well? What does she mean?"

Alba paused, as if searching for the right words. "In the camps, we were left alone. You fend for yourself or die. They kept us separate from our parents, the elders. And, if we ever did get a moment with them, when we asked them about escaping, well, they just told us to obey the Clacamash, not to even think about leaving."

Alba spat as if something distasteful had crossed her tongue. "If we'd listened to them we'd all be dead, but half of us made it here and others followed."

"But no adults?" asked Corlu, fighting to keep the hope from her voice. Could her mother and father have survived?

"No," said Alba with finality.

Corlu dug her nails of her right hand into the palm of the other to stop the welling tears.

Alba's voice rose as if she was giving a speech. "And that's why this settlement will succeed. We've thrown away all of the old ways, the cowardly ways of acceptance. We'll have none of the lily-livered ideas of the past."

"What do you mean?" Shiall's eyes gleamed with interest.

"We practice defense, we guard our settlement and train everyone who wishes to remain. The Clacamash won't attack here without warning."

"And if they do, we'll fight to the death," hissed Leela.

Lian laughed. "You think you can fight the Clacamash?"

Suddenly there was a flurry of legs and arms. Lian lay on the ground. Alba's hand was around his throat and a knife pricked at his stomach.

There was a shocked silence and then Corlu made to throw herself at Alba, but before she could, the older girl had sheaved the knife and was holding out a hand to Lian. Corlu expected him to hit it away, but he kept his face still and accepted the help up. They stood looking at each other for a moment until Alba stepped back and Lian's shoulders relaxed.

"You can teach us to do that?" Shiall breathed.

Alba stared at her for a moment, taking her measure. "I can teach you lots of ways to defend yourself. Like you, we refuse to just accept what the Clacamash deal out. There is always a guard around the settlement. They range widely—"

"The group who caught us?" Corlu asked. "That was your guard?"

"Yes. They were one of the groups out on three-day duty. We know if anything comes near us."

"And then you what . . . ?"

"We have places to escape to. They'll never find us, and if they did . . ." Alba shrugged. "Well, we already told you, everybody here is prepared to fight to the death."

"Everybody!" warned Leela. "There's no room here for the soft." Her eyes gleamed in the dark.

"So nobody has ever found you?" asked Corlu, her thoughts racing ahead to plans for the village.

"Well, yes," answered Alba. "For a year or so, scattered groups from the children's camps found us—the last one included a child barely weaned. But for some time now, we've lived alone." She smiled at Corlu, a slow, but dazzling smile. "Until you found us, that is. A group of travelers with ideals such as our own."

"But no adults?" Corlu's voice trembled, hoping against hope.

"No. No adults."

Corlu's heart sank, but what had she expected? Her mind went back to the corpses in the forest. "We came across some dead. They were wearing cloth from the villages."

"Where?" demanded Leela.

"In the mountains before the desert." Lian explained. "Two adults and a child. We think."

Leela and Alba visibly relaxed.

"Do you think they were escaping the camps?"

"Who knows?" shrugged Alba.

"If they didn't make it, we have no need for them anyway," said Leela. "We want the strong, the young, those who have proven they will do anything to survive."

Corlu glanced involuntarily at the mound of dirty blankets that covered Leela's limbs. She was sure the girl was sick or disabled in someway.

"Do any of the adults know you came south?" she asked. Perhaps there was still a chance.

"No," said Alba. "Why is it so important?" She stopped and then a look of comprehension crossed her face. "I see."

"It's not important," said Deera suddenly, as if to put an end to the conversation. She gripped Corlu's forearm tightly in the gloom, stopping her from saying more.

"Corlu, nodded, shocked at how much she had revealed. She resolved to say nothing more.

Suddenly the raucous sound of a horn came blaring through the doorway.

"Evening meal," explained Alba, holding back the ragged curtain and peering out. "We'll eat, and then I'll find you sleeping huts that you can share until you build your own."

She stood up, motioning to the others to precede her, but turned back to Leela and gently arranged her blankets. "I'll have Fram bring you some broth."

Corlu heard a muttered reply. Then Alba began to whisper. Corlu was sure they were talking about them, but when she caught Alba's eye, the girl simply flashed another one of her brilliant smiles and again waved Corlu through the door.

Corlu couldn't help herself; she smiled back.

\- - -

That night, as the others lay asleep behind her in the rough hut, Corlu stared out at the night, giving up her last hope, a hope she had kept hidden even from herself. In the evening cool, she allowed the tears to fall. She had been keeping them at bay since dinner when Lian had returned the conversation to the camps.

"You never told us why the adults were on the battlefields?" he had asked between hurried spoonfuls of soup. They had all wolfed down their food, forgetful of manners, reveling in the hot, if bland taste.

Alba sighed. "You won't want to hear this." She paused, wiping her mouth. "It's hard, but then life is hard isn't it? Everyone here has accepted that."

"Well?" Lian had prompted.

Alba had made them wait while she got up and ladled more soup from the large tureen that rested near the fire. A small boy ran forward and refilled her cup with water. She nodded her thanks, and he faded back into the crowd of boys and girls that were keeping a close, but respectful distance.

"In the camps, the children last longer than the adults," said Alba. "Anyone older than eighteen years or so is sent deep into the mines or out to the battles. They die within a few weeks either way. They use them as decoy and shields."

"What do you mean?" Shiall had demanded. "Decoys?"

"They're used as screens in battle. Their death is easier than most. They die quickly. Arrows mostly. They're simply tools to the Clacamash." Alba grimaced impatiently at their looks of shocked incomprehension. "Look, they herd them out before them--when they charge in battle. It creates confusion."

Her words had left the four of them in stunned silence, but she had continued: "Believe me, it's better than what happens to those who live when they come home to celebrate their victories. Far better."

Alba's face had looked so grim and strange that the others had asked no more questions, but had sat silent through the end of the meal, each pondering what they had heard.

Now, Corlu let it all sink in. There would be no reunion. No happy ending. Her mother and father would never return to the village. Never come back to take up their rightful places in the village. She would never know whether she had grown up to look like her mother; whether her father would have been proud of the way she could handle a brachen in white water. They were dead, and she was alone.

But she was alive, she told herself. Alive and strong. She had found the Kytheland, fought against fear and deprivation, and, she told herself fiercely, she would kill any Clacamash that attempted to take that away from her.
Chapter Eleven

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Corlu scanned the tumbling water below and then turned and looked upwards. Everything was still. The air hung heavy between the deep canyon walls, and the sky was tinged with a sickly pale green tint, heralding a storm. Most likely a powerful one, given the mass of dark clouds building on the horizon.

What was she supposed to do, she wondered? Was she still expected to stand guard if the storm hit? Knowing Alba, she thought, the answer was yes. Corlu grimaced, remembering their first day of training--Alba pacing back and forth, barking orders, screaming rules, and then, just as suddenly, squatting down to make a more detailed explanation.

Nothing gets within a strode of the island. If a spider moves his web upstream, I want to know. An egg falls from the nest at the peak, I want to know. A stone moves . . . . You understand? Vigilance is what keeps us free. We have to know when and where they'll come from. That's the key to our safety, and after that, comes defense.

Alba's language was inflated and ridiculous, but something in Corlu responded to it.

On that first day, Alba had woken them before daybreak, rousing them roughly from the blankets, and forcing them out for a tour of the settlement and the large mud flat of an island on which it sprawled.

"The building's crude, we know, but it's only makeshift, temporary," she had explained as they walked around the rough-looking huts and shelters. "What's important here is defense. So we build quickly, and then get on with it. We don't plan on making the same mistakes as the villages."

She spat. "All that craft and beauty is meaningless given the Cullings."

They'd all nodded their heads. It did make sense, thought Corlu. Hadn't this been her very criticism of the council, of her grandfather, and Ana? That it all could be taken away in a moment. What did it matter if life was slightly uncomfortable, when they were alive and free? Some things simply had to be sacrificed.

"What's it like in the winter?" Deera asked, peering into a hut where dried seaweed hung from the outcropping twigs that sprang from the walls near the ceiling.

"It's freezing and miserable!" hooted Alba. They had all laughed, their suspicions slowly allayed by their curiosity about the settlement and Alba herself. Corlu still felt unsure about her, but Alba radiated a confidence and charm that was hard to resist. Somehow Corlu felt more alive around her; she wanted to please her, to bask a little in the strong sunlight thrown by her smile. She could see that she had this effect on all of them, all except perhaps Deera, who remained as quiet and thoughtful as before.

They had been at the settlement for more than seven days and were now seamlessly woven into the tightly disciplined system that Alba ran. Life here was different from the village where duties lazily interwove with play and rest. Here, they were up at daybreak, sent out on guard duty or practice on an empty stomach. All four of them had become remarkably proficient with the bow and arrow--although Corlu couldn't help but notice that her aim was truer than the rest.

Corlu had another reason to feel a secret pride. She had conquered her terror of heights, for when it came to scaling the cliffs, Alba had refused to even listen to her fears.

"Just shut up and get up that ladder, Corlu. Now!"

Stung, Corlu had started to walk away in anger, and Alba had actually grabbed her and forced her back to the ladder.

"There's no place for cowards or rule breakers here. You do as I say or else you suffer the consequences. Now go!"

For a moment Corlu had stared into those hard blue eyes, anger and rebellion simmering within her, but there was no escape. With Fram snickering down below, she had been forced to climb all the way up and then all the way back down.

When she had reached the bottom, pale and shaky, Corlu had looked to Alba for approval.

"Now go back up." There was no emotion in Alba's face; no mercy or understanding.

Swallowing hard and trying not to think about how she had almost lost her footing on the way down, Corlu had grabbed the rope and started climbed.

She scaled the cliff face nine times that day, the last time in the dark, long after sunset. Fear had seamlessly transformed into exhaustion. Collapsing, after falling from the last rung, Corlu had expected to hear at least a word of praise, but Alba had simply grunted and headed the group back for a late meal.

The next day, however, when, with aching muscles, she had been sent up the cliff, Corlu found that her panic and fear had abated to a mild nervousness. The realization sent a stabbing sensation of joy through her body. She didn't know if she was quite ready to start scaling cliff faces, but the climb up to the canyon opening held no more fear for her. She had finally conquered the terror of heights that had plagued her for so long.

It was a hard, but good life on the island. Unlike her existence in the lazy flow of the village, Corlu felt she was actually working towards a goal, instead of drifting midstream, letting the currents direct her course. She was also less bothered by those disturbing feelings that Lian had seemed to bring out in her during the journey. Sometimes she would catch him looking at her, and her insides would tighten, her breath catch a little, but then she'd pretend to be deeply involved in what she was doing and the feeling would slowly dissipate.

Besides, they were more often apart. She saw him now and then, but they were usually sent on different errands and duties. She knew he had become quite a hero for rescuing one of the children from drowning while out in the brachen, and the speed at which he had surpassed everyone in fighting had even gained a grudging approval from Alba. Once she had come across him entertaining a group of awe-struck little boys by picking them up as they ran full tilt towards him and holding all three upside down. They were laughing and Corlu had felt her own lips curving upwards in response, as if the clouds had parted, turning a grey day into one filled with clear sunshine. But then Alba had come around the corner and she had straightened her face, as if she had been doing something inexplicably shameful.

Corlu stretched and looked around at the trees, forcing her mind back to the present. A noise to her left told her that Shiall had returned from patrolling the waterfall area. They had become quite adept at moving soundlessly, but also at detecting the slightest movement nearby.

"Should've had your knife out," Shiall said gruffly when Corlu simply greeted her with a smile. Wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand, she slid down beside her onto the rough outcrop of rock.

"Yes." Corlu shrugged easily. "I think this weather is making me sleepy."

They stared out through the trees at the sky that hung heavily over the green-gray ocean. From behind them, they could hear the first roll of distant thunder.

"So, do we stay here? Make shelter?"

"I saw Renn up by the falls. He said we might as well go back down. They got up here early; they can take over."

"Glad it's them and not me. I wouldn't want duty up here tonight."

Shiall shrugged and idly stripped the leaves off a small branch. "There's a shelter. They won't get that wet." She threw the branch to one side and looked out at the ocean. "You know. I like it up here. You can see everything. It gives me this feeling of—and I know this sounds foolish—of power." She laughed nervously and then shot a quick defensive look at Corlu.

Corlu looked down and rubbed her hands against the dirt. The conversation had become a little strange, but she knew what Shiall meant. Some days she felt like she could draw in her breath, stretch out her hands, and take in the whole world. She was growing stronger, no longer afraid to reach out and take what she wanted.

"I know," Corlu answered gruffly, standing up to avoid any awkward eye contact. She wiped at her nose. "We should go, if we hope to be inside before the storm comes."

As it was, they barely made it down the ladder before the wind and rain set in. Buffeted by the gale, their vision obscured by the sheets of water being thrown down from above, they raced for the brachen. Once in the water, it took all of their skill to make their way across the river mouth to the island. The brachen spun like an autumn leaf driven by the capricious gusts of the storm.

Soaked and freezing from sitting in the steadily increasing pool of water that filled the bottom of the boat, they finally made it across, but their vision was impeded by the driving rain.

"This can't be right!" Shiall yelled from up front.

"This is it," Corlu shouted back.

"It can't be. There's no way to land."

"Look. Over there. It's collapsed." Corlu pointed to a mess of mud and swirling water where the bank used to be. "I'm taking us around to the other side," she yelled and back paddled furiously against the frothing current to turn them around.

Pushed by the wind off the ocean, they quickly paddled around the backside of the island and then met the gale again face on, as Corlu searched for the landing site. For a moment she thought they had gone too far, but then she caught a glimpse of the clearing in the bushes and drove the brachen in hard and clumsily, more concerned about being carried out to sea than the mud. With a quick twist of her body, Shiall jumped out, pulling the boat up almost completely onto the bank.

In the pelting rain, the two then dragged the brachen up behind the bushes.

"If this keeps up the whole island's going to go," Shiall hissed. "Here--I think it's wedged. Let's go."

Stumbling through the mud, they ran back towards the center of the island where the thick mat of low-lying bushes provided some protection from the storm. Corlu was just beginning to think pleasant thoughts about food and a warm blanket, when unexpectedly a solitary hut emerged out of the gloom. She half fell, half slid to a halt.

"What's that?"

Shiall paused for a moment and looked back. "That's the prisoner hut." She made to leave. "Come on. Let's go!"

"Wait," called Corlu. "Is anyone in there?" She was wet through, her hands cramped with cold, but there was something about the lonely shelter that stirred her curiosity.

"Of course not," Shiall yelled impatiently. "Hurry. I'm freezing!"

Corlu took a step forward. She remembered asking about the hut when they had first arrived and receiving no answer. She wondered whom they would keep imprisoned in such a dreary-looking place. Surely, Alba didn't put any of the children in here for punishment?

She waved Shiall back. "You go ahead. I want to look inside."

Shiall groaned. "Just be quick then."

Corlu walked softly up to the hut, searching for the door as she wiped rain from her face. It was around the other side, but tightly shut. To the left was a knothole about waist high. She crouched down and peered in, but all was dark. Curious, she pressed her face closer, pushing her dripping hair behind her ears. She couldn't make out very much—some straw, a wooden platter. It looked like the hut hadn't be used in awhile.

Then, without warning, an eye suddenly appeared in the opening, unblinkingly returning her gaze. Corlu catapulted backwards, stumbling from the force. The disembodied eye stared out, holding her gaze as she crouched, paralyzed on the ground. It blinked, and she moved. Hand over her mouth to stop the scream which had welled up in her throat, she staggered back to Shiall.

"Go!" She pushed her down the path. "Go!"

Slipping and sliding in the mud, they sped back to the settlement against the wind and rain. When they got to their hut, Corlu all but pushed Shiall down into the dry warmth.

"Now, what was all that about?" Shiall demanded once they were they were both inside.

Shaking, Corlu reached for a blanket from her pile and used its rough surface to dry herself before she answered. She was feeling a little embarrassed now that they were away from the hut.

She calmed her breathing. "There was someone in there. It surprised me. I was looking through a crack and then there was suddenly someone looking back at me."

Shiall stopped midway as she reached for a blanket. "You saw someone? Are you sure?"

Corlu nodded.

"I didn't know anyone was in there. I wonder who it is?" Shiall grabbed the blanket and grimaced. "It must be freezing in there. Still, you didn't have to panic."

"I know. It just took me by surprise." Corlu attempted to be nonchalant, but she was having trouble dispelling the image from her mind.

"I thought the Clacamash had landed!" Shiall laughed. She quickly threw off her damp tunic and reached for Lian's cloak, obviously finished with the topic. "Let's go see if there's any food left. Maybe we can get Alba to tell us who's in there."
Chapter Twelve

Corlu slowly followed Shiall back into the wet night. It bothered her that Shiall hadn't been disturbed or at least curious about the person in the hut, but her stomach was clenching with hunger, and she looked forward to getting under cover. The meal house, like the other buildings, had an impermanent feel to it and was open to the elements on two sides. It wasn't going to be the warmest or driest place, and the food was barely edible—either lumpy or full of grit--but after a day of tough physical exertion, Corlu knew she could eat almost anything.

As they strode past the sleeping huts, they were suddenly hit by a burning stench carried on the wind along with the smell of wet vegetation. Corlu couldn't place it, but it turned her stomach and made her want to rinse out her mouth.

"What is that?" Shiall gasped, slowing to a trot.

"I think it's coming from over there." Corlu pointed to a fire burning far off to the right. It sizzled and flared in the rain, barely covered by the rough roof that also sheltered a couple of figures.

Without thinking, Corlu and Shiall picked their way over to the fire. The revolting smell grew stronger, an unknown, but somehow not completely unfamiliar odor. Corlu tried again to place it, but it seemed to come from some dark place in her earliest memories.

Waving her hand against the smoke, Shiall stumbled up to the group first. Corlu heard her begin to ask a question, gasp, and then turn away hand to mouth. Corlu drew closer, curious.

Fram and another boy about his age sat crouched down close to the flames, frantically gnawing on some kind of blackened stick. So intent were they on their meal that the boys barely registered the girls' presence. Corlu stepped forward, peering at what Fram held in his hands.

As he brought it up to his mouth, ripping with his teeth, she suddenly realized what they were eating. It was the leg of a small animal, burned black in the fire. Corlu felt her gorge rise and stumbled back.

"What're you doing?" she gasped in horror. "An animal!"

Fram stared at her across the fire, but her words only made him tear into the flesh more greedily, as if afraid that it would be taken away.

"Fram!" she yelled. "Stop it."

Still there was no response. The other boy only grasped his piece more tightly in his hands.

"Leave them!" said Shiall, grabbing Corlu's arm and pulling her back from the fire. "Let's go. Just leave them."

Corlu took one last look at the two boys and turned away.

"How could they?"

"They're filthy little beasts." Shiall spat in disgust.

Corlu didn't think she was ever going to get rid of the smell of burnt flesh or the sight of bone and muscle. It merged in nightmare fashion with images of the decomposing corpses they had buried in the forest.

"Ugh," she said, as they made their way back to the meal house. "Do you think Alba knows?"

"I don't know, but we should tell her. I can't believe they think they can get away with it. She's so strict about everything else."

Corlu nodded. "The younger kids are strange. It's like there's something missing."

"They're all odd, but what you can expect given what they've been through?" said Shiall grimly, as they came around the side of the meal house.

There struggling in the cold and wet was Saspan. She was trying to lift a sack into the storage hut, but it was too large and kept falling to the ground. Corlu and Shiall went forward to help, but not before the sack opened and half of the nuts fell into the mud.

"Go ahead," said Corlu to Shiall. "I'll help her."

Shiall shook her ahead and began to gather up the nuts, yanking the sack irritably from Saspan's fingers. The little girl simply stood and stared as if she expected to be told what to do.

"Go on back to your hut and get warm," said Corlu gently pushing the little girl towards the sleeping shelters. "Make sure, you dry your hair or you'll wake up freezing!"

Saspan gave her a quick smile and ran off.

She's much too young for these kinds of jobs in this weather," said Corlu, picking up the last of the nuts.

Shiall shrugged and stuffed the sack into the storage hut. "Let's get our meal before the fire's out."

Corlu shook the water from her hair, as they entered the light and warmth of the shelter. Alba was sitting around the large fire, her long legs stretched out to the side. Beside her, watching her every move, were a couple of younger girls. Corlu recognized them, but did not yet know their names.

"Come eat," called Alba. "They made extra by mistake, so there's plenty."

"Meaning we'll be eating adjuni stew for the next week, morning, noon, and night," grimaced one of the girls.

The sally earned her a laugh from Alba, and the girl reddened with pleasure.

Corlu and Shiall scooped stew into their bowls from the misshapen clay pot that rested haphazardly on a stand over the edge of the fire. When their bowls were full, they made their way around the fire to a space near Alba.

She smiled up at them and then lazily waved at the two younger girls. "Go on you two. Go away!"

"Please, Alba, . . ." begged the smallest.

"It's time for you to sleep, and besides I want to talk to these two. Alone," she added.

The two girls stood up, scowling, but they seemed to realize that Alba's mood could turn ugly, for they quickly scurried away into the darkness. Corlu and Shiall slid into the spot the girls had vacated.

"You met Renn?"

Shiall nodded. "He said we should come down. Was that the right thing to do?"

"He was going up early. You were lucky. Usually you'd be up there storm or no storm." Alba turned to Corlu. "You're not eating very much."

Corlu grimaced and threw down her spoon. "We just saw something that took away our appetite . . . or at least mine," she added, looking over at Shiall who was shoveling stew into her mouth.

"What?" Shiall spoke through a mouthful of beans. "I'm hungry!"

"What did you see?" Alba's voice was suddenly full of interest.

Shiall waved her spoon at Corlu, signaling that she should relate what they'd discovered.

Corlu put her bowl down, feeling the nausea rising again at the thought of the flesh. "Two of the boys killed an animal. They're eating it over there."

She swallowed and waited for Alba to react. She didn't know what the penalty would be. In the village, such an unspeakable crime meant expulsion from the village. Alba probably wouldn't be that harsh, given their circumstances, but she was going to have to step in and take charge of some of the children. They were living on the ragged edge, no better than the Clacamash. Their behavior had no place in the disciplined and organized settlement Alba had created. It was . . . Corlu searched for the word. Unclean. Yes. Unclean through and through.

Still, she didn't like the idea of accusing Fram and wished it were anyone else. It seemed somehow petty, like they were settling scores. Everybody knew that Fram had taken a violent dislike to the four newcomers, especially Corlu. She guessed it had something to do with the humiliation he had been forced to suffer in front of them and everyone else that first day, but there was more to it than that. There was something a little unbalanced about the boy. He disturbed her, and he had picked up on her feelings.

Alba sighed. "Was it Fram?"

Corlu nodded reluctantly.

"I told him he had to stop doing that. That's the second time in the last ten days." Alba sighed. "Ah, well." She pointed to the large misshapen pot with her spoon. "Is there any more of that stew left?"

"Are you going to speak with him?" asked Corlu, thrown off by Alba's unexpectedly calm reaction.

Alba nodded seriously. "I'll have a word with him, though I doubt it'll do any good."

"What do you mean?" asked Shiall in a puzzled voice.

Alba shot them both an impatient look and then got up and walked over to the pot. "Look." She paused as she replaced the spoon back in the pot and then sat back down. "There are many things that are different here than the villages, most good, but some not so good. I've given orders that no one is to eat the flesh of another creature, and most of them obey that rule, but a few of them got into the habit of it in the camps."

She shrugged. "They don't understand the taboo. They didn't grow up with it. Besides, there's never enough food--you know that. They're hungry, and sometimes they break the rules." She began eating again.

Corlu sat still for a moment, taking it all in, imagining what it must have been like to grow up with no understanding of village life and belief about the sanctity of every creature's life. She couldn't help but think that their very throats should have closed against the flesh, regardless of their ignorance of custom and law.

Shiall simply nodded, seemingly satisfied, and changed the topic of conversation. "You said if we made it through training that you'd tell us about the prisoner?"

"Ah," said Alba, grinning. "The Prisoner. Now before I tell you, you have to swear that you'll abide by my decisions regarding him."

"What did he do?" asked Corlu.

"Many things, I'm sure," said Alba dryly. "But it's not so much what he's done as what he is."

"What do you mean?" demanded Shiall.

"The Prisoner . . ." said Alba, pausing dramatically "is going to be our greatest aid against attack. He's going to tell us everything he knows, and we're finally going to get an idea of what they're up to."

"Who?" asked Corlu, confused.

"The Clacamash," answered Alba settling back on her elbows with a smug expression on her face.

"The Clacamash? You mean . . . ?"

"Yes. He's—or should I say, It's--Clacamash."

Corlu's mouth fell open, and Shiall gasped. Their reaction seemed to please Alba greatly. She nodded. "We captured him the day before you came. He was skulking around the waterfall, not far from where they caught you."

"You have one of them? Here?" Corlu's brain was reeling. The eye in the hut. It was one of them. She had been a breath away from a Clacamash.

"He's in the hut on the other side. I'm sure you've seen it."

Shiall nodded distractedly. "You said that he was captured a day before us? Right near where we were caught?"

"That's right," answered Alba with a hint of pride.

"Meaning he was following us all the way here!" gasped Corlu, remembering the rustling, the sense of being shadowed.

"Meaning we led him right to you," said Shiall, covering her eyes. She groaned. "What did we do? What if you hadn't captured him in time!"

Alba reached over and threw another branch on the fire.

Shiall shook her head, looking down at the ground as if too embarrassed to look up.

Alba shrugged. "It doesn't matter, Shiall. It proved that nothing gets by our guard. That all of our training has paid off. That we were right."

She paused and smiled over at Corlu, who smiled back weakly. She remembered all of the times she had felt someone watching as they walked through the forest. Since their capture, she had just assumed that it had been Eli, Fram, and the other children, but now she recalled that she had felt that creeping sensation as far back as the forest before the Remains. Indeed, it had been that very fear that had driven her to make the decision to cross the desert.

Her mouth soured as she realized that those fears and suspicions were true. A Clacamash had been following them, maybe even as far back as the peninsula. Had it trailed them the entire way? Had it been within a breath's distance when they separated in the evenings to relieve themselves or to gather wood? Had it crept up while they slept and watched them, as they lay helpless and unaware?

"We should have been more careful. We thought someone was following us," said Shiall glumly.

"There wasn't anything you could've done. You weren't trained. You didn't even know we existed." Alba grinned and ruffled Shiall's hair in an unexpected gesture of affection.

It struck Corlu then how much the two looked alike. An unexpected wave of jealousy sent bitterness to her throat.

"Think of it this way," continued Alba. "You brought us a gift. Soon we'll know everything."

"What has he told you so far?" asked Corlu in a strained voice.

"Nothing yet," answered Alba grimly. "He says he was escaping the Clacamash." She gave a harsh laugh. "We're leaving him alone for a few days. Let him think about what we're going to do to him if he doesn't talk."

"I can't believe it," breathed Corlu. "You actually have one of them. Here."

Alba rounded on her. "Now remember what you agreed to. You're not the only ones who want him dead. Half the group's barely following orders because I'm keeping him alive, and the other half are lining up to be the one to kill him when I give the order."

She poked the fire violently and leaned forward into Corlu's face. "We all have reasons to want to kill him, but he's mine, you understand? Mine. He'll talk, and then he's mine."

Corlu drew back, confused and uneasy. "I understand," she muttered.

"Good," said Alba, getting to her feet. "You have a place here, both of you, an important one, but. . ." Her meaning was plain. Corlu wondered just how far Alba would go to protect her leadership.

"Anyway," said the older girl, yawning. "You have my word that I'll let you know what he says."

Corlu and Shiall watched as Alba walked off into the night.

"I still can't believe it," said Corlu when Alba had disappeared into the dark.

"I wonder if she captured him herself," said Shiall admiringly. "This is what the village should've done a long time ago. We could've just taken one and questioned him."

Corlu nodded. All of their questions about who the Clacamash were, where they came from, and why they culled the villagers could be answered in a matter of days. The solution was so simple. Why hadn't the villages attempted to capture one? The answer revived all of her anger and frustration at the village elders. The same reason why they didn't fight back, even as they watched tiny children being thrown into carts! Because it was just easier to follow tradition. It was the way things had always been done. Corlu gritted her teeth, wanting to flail out physically at the pointlessness of it all.

"I want to be there for the questioning. I wonder if she'll let me." Shiall stretched and stood up.

It was late. The two girls carried water over from the nearest pool, doused the fire, and walked back to their hut.

"Are you still awake?" whispered Shiall, stumbling over Deera's feet.

"I am now," groaned Deera, turning over.

Lian remained asleep, breathing lightly. His face looked pale in the gloom, a white mask against the dark of his hair. Asleep, he looked both more vulnerable and more distant. Corlu's hand moved to smooth back the sweep of hair from his forehead, and then stopped. As she pulled the rough blanket up over her shoulders and tried to find a comfortable spot on the ground, she avoided looking in his direction, troubled again by emotions she refused to consider.

Deera sat up with a sigh. "What is it, Shiall? I can tell you want to tell me something. Your left eye always goes funny when you think you've got a secret to pass on."

"It does?" asked Shiall, rubbing her eye.

"They've got one of the Clacamash locked up in that hut," Corlu blurted out.

Shiall gave Corlu an exasperated look, but Deera simply smiled and nestled back down into the blankets. "I know that. Alba told me this morning."

"What?" Corlu and Shiall demanded. "Why didn't you tell us about this earlier?"

"Shiall! You've been up by the waterfall all day, and we just got back. Alba wants me to take over prisoner duty tomorrow. I'm supposed to feed him as well."

"You have to feed him?" said Shiall, horrified. "Don't you go anywhere near that thing. He doesn't deserve to live, let alone get food."

"I'll be careful." Deera answered. "If you be careful about where you're getting your water from. I told you that they're taking it from too close to the trenches. I went out there today, and it's getting worse. Disgusting."

Shiall rolled her eyes. "They're getting it from the river, Deera!"

"Yes. At the same place where those trenches are overflowing. Promise me!"

"I promise!" yawned Shiall.

"And don't eat too much of what they're serving at the meal house either or you'll get really sick!"

With a snort of amused exasperation, Shiall huddled down next to Deera and soon added her snores to Lian's, but Corlu lay awake late into the night, her thoughts coming back continually to the dark hut and what it contained.

When she finally fell asleep, she slept fitfully, the same dream coming to her again and again. She was back in the sea cave, searching for the others.

As she peered into the tunnels, calling their names, the water behind her began to bubble and roil. She knew there was something beneath the surface that was coming for her, but she could do no more than stagger slowly backwards. The water rose into a gigantic wave that filled the cave. She was going to drown, but she couldn't make it to the tunnels.

Then the wave turned black and became a cewhale, one of the enormous sea creatures that swam the sea outside the village bay. There was the overwhelming smell of rotten kelp. The whale opened its mouth, exposing row upon row of gleaming white teeth, and then Corlu felt herself falling into the darkness of its maw.
Chapter Thirteen

The summer days flew along as fast as running water. Every night, the four agreed that they had to talk to Alba about getting back to the village, but she seemed distracted, less approachable, and spent most of her time up on the cliffs on overnight guard patrol.

Corlu was impatient to start their journey. They needed to talk to Alba about future building and, more importantly, about a safe route back. Alba claimed that they could skirt the worst of the Remains by following the coast and then cutting up through the hills, but she had said no more, and when Corlu tried to ask the children, they simply shrugged: "Alba knows."

The one morning that Corlu had been able to speak with her before she went off, Alba had barely been able to restrain her impatience.

"Corlu, I told you the other day—we'll have to talk of this later."

Alba was checking her pack for an overnight patrol and barely looked up at her.

"I just wanted to speak with you about the village, where we could build, and then how to get home. You said that—"

"Yes. I told you. There's a route along the coast, but this must wait!"

Corlu stiffened. "I know you have other matters to attend to."

"Yes," snapped Alba, her mouth tightening almost into a sneer. "And if Lian wants something he should ask me, not send you."

"Lian? What do you mean?" Corlu was taken aback.

"I know what he thinks about all of this." Alba gestured violently to the huddle of huts and sheds, the sneer now obvious. "And I've seen the way you look at each other!"

Corlu felt color flooding her cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said icily, trying to keep her voice steady and low. "But I've been trying to talk to you about this for days, and you know that." She was about to add more, defend herself against Alba's charge about Lian—were her feelings that transparent?--but she stopped herself in time.

Alba was silent for a minute, holding Corlu's furious gaze. Then she looked away, took a breath and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry, Corlu. I shouldn't have said that. Or rather I should have said it differently. You have a place here, an important place."

Corlu felt her anger dissolve. Alba looked tired, almost ill.

"I'm going to need your help when I get back." Alba continued, with a smile. "The prisoner won't speak. I plan to let him sit for a few days and then try again."

"Of course," said Corlu. "Perhaps we can speak again when you get back?"

Alba nodded. "Now help me with this pack, so I can get up to those cliffs. Fram needs constant prodding or he'll start annoying the others."

Corlu watched her leave, feeling reassured and slightly dazed, an effect Alba often had on her. There was much that she hated about the way of life here, but she stood in awe at everything that Alba had accomplished. She and she alone had kept this ragged band of children alive and safe. And she couldn't help but be flattered that Alba so obviously needed her.

She didn't notice that Lian was waiting for her back at the hut and ran straight into him as she came around the corner. He put out a steadying hand and smiled down at her. Instantly she pulled back, Alba's words filling her head.

A frown crossed Lian's face and then was gone. He stepped back also. "What did she say?" he asked.

"So she still won't tell us," he added when she told him about her conversation with Alba. "She's going to be difficult."

"That's ridiculous," snapped Corlu. "She's just overwhelmed right now. Of course she doesn't want us to go, but she knows we need to return home, and soon."

"Yes. She knows it," said Lian in an irritatingly calm voice. "But I don't think she's going to let us go easily. No matter what she says.

And, I've been asking around. Nobody else has heard of this supposed route back to the villages."

"So? Do you think she's making it all up?" Looking at the arrogant, dismissive expression on Lian's face, Corlu felt anger welling up inside of her. She wanted to hurt him, to blot out Alba's words. I've seen the way you look at each other.

"You're jealous!" she lashed out. "You've never been able to take orders from someone else, even when they're clearly better at something than you."

"Maybe," said Lian quietly, as if he was considering the idea. "Still--"

"I trust her," hissed Corlu.

There was a pause. Lian looked down and then brought his eyes to her face, holding her gaze as if their lives depended on her not looking away. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. It had gotten so long. "I trust you, Corlu. But only you."

Suddenly he was close, and, for a minute, Corlu thought he meant to pull her into his arms, to kiss her. She waited with mouth slightly parted, but he only raised one finger and stroked her cheek gently. He stared at her for a moment and then walked away.

That night Corlu lay awake, unable to sleep even though her muscles ached and her eyes felt gritty. Lian lay nearby slightly snoring, as if nothing had happened between the two of them. He had seemed graver than usual when they met again that night at the meal hut, but he had not referred to what had happened, and so neither had she.

After what felt like half the night had passed, Corlu forced herself to push her feelings for Lian aside. She had other matters to worry about. Lian's words had raised doubts about her belief in Alba, despite what she had said to him. Thoughts of Mari and her grandfather filled her head, their eyes accusing. Why had she been gone so long? Why did she not come home?

Corlu did not have an answer. It did seem like she had been here for seasons, years. She was now greeted by name by most of the children and no longer needed explanations about how tasks were done. Saspan, the little girl who had escorted Corlu to the settlement on that first day, had become quite attached to her. Corlu was often embarrassed by the continual presence of the small child, but she didn't have the heart to shake her off. Saspan looked so very much like Mari, small and slight for her age with a tangled mat of hair that she refused to let Corlu comb.

On the evening Alba was due to return, Corlu finished her chores early and went for a walk across the mud flats, thinking about the best way to approach the matter of their leaving. Before she had gone very far, she felt a familiar tug and looked down at Saspan's bright blue eyes.

The little girl smiled up at her without words. There were times when Corlu sensed in her that strange lack that she felt in the other children, a lack she recognized but could not name. The feeling of disquiet, however, was usually dispelled by Saspan's toothy grin. She was an odd, but engaging child.

This evening Saspan was full of laughter, chasing dragonflies as she followed Corlu across the island. There was a soft quietness in the air. As they drew near the water, Corlu felt her body relaxing, the coil of anxiety loosening. She drew in a deep breath and watched the last of the sunlight glimmering on the water.

Near the eastern tip of the island, the mud flats broke into a series of channels and small ponds. Two little boys came running up from behind them.

"Can we come with you?" one asked, breathing hard.

"Of course," smiled Corlu, turning. "Come on."

As the sky turned a golden pink, the four of them hopped across the channels, the boys wrestling and racing each other. Birds wheeled above and then dove down to the water, skimming the surface in search of insects. The evening chorus of frogs and grasshoppers filled the air.

After a little while, they reached the far end of the island. They could go no further without brachens. A pool stretched in front of them and dissolved into the river's mouth.

"Look," Corlu said, pointing to the white flowers that bobbed up and down in the water.

The two boys continued to wrestle behind her, but Saspan came forward and crouched down by the edge.

"What's that?" she called.

In the center of the pool, a couple of frogs sat on one of the flat lily pads. They crouched motionless in the warm evening air.

"Saspan?" began Corlu gingerly, drawing the child down beside her on the bank. "Do you remember where you came from before . . . before you came here?"

Saspan turned slowly and looked at her and then turned back to the pool. For a moment it seemed as if she would make no answer, distracted by the attractions of the pond.

Then she spoke. "Alba took me from the camps. She took me away and then we came here." She suddenly moved closer to the water. "Look! Look!" She pointed excitedly at a cluster of insects gliding across the surface of the pool.

"I see them," said Corlu, wondering how to begin again. "They're called skaters. Saspan, do you remember being somewhere before the camps—somewhere near the ocean? Like here?"

Saspan shook her head, but her face was still turned toward the water, and Corlu could not make out her expression. Was it fair to keep pushing the little girl? Maybe she had forgotten all about the past for good reason.

Corlu hesitated, but then Saspan herself interrupted the silence. "It was hot there. I didn't like it. It was hot.'

"At the camps? The mines?" prompted Corlu.

Saspan nodded. "They made her fall down, and then Alba took us away. We walked far. My legs hurt. We walked really far. Then we came here."

"Who fell down, Saspan?"

"She just fell down. I pushed her, but she wouldn't move. She couldn't come."

"Who couldn't come, Saspan?" said Corlu, trying to keep the intensity out of her voice.

The little girl let out an unexpected giggle. "She didn't move. We had to run fast."

Corlu unintentionally grabbed Saspan's arm. "Who? Who, Saspan?"

The little girl turned and looked straight at Corlu. "Mumu," she said as if it was the clearest thing in the world.

"Mumu? Who is Mumu? Was Mumu your mother?"

Saspan shrugged and then nodded. Corlu felt her stomach plummet. What had the little girl witnessed? Had they killed her mother in front of her?

She turned aside, so that Saspan would not see her tears.

Suddenly, the pond exploded as a rock broke through the mirror surface. The frogs went flying into the water, but rocks continued to hail down, one just missing Saspan.

"I killed one," crowed one of the little boys.

The other pushed him aside and aimed. "Liar! Watch me!"

Corlu watched in disgust and then strode over to them, grabbing the rocks from their hands. Why did the children always have to spoil things? "Stop," she yelled.

The two boys looked up at her with sullen expressions, and then raced away, chasing each other around the water. Their hoots and yells disturbed the calm of the evening, but at least they had been distracted from the pond.

"Did they kill it?" asked Saspan from behind her. "Did they kill it?"

Corlu turned back to Saspan. "The frogs are safe. They're swimming in the water now. Let's look and see if we can find them."

"Is this a flower?" Saspan asked as she peered over the side of the pool. "Can I touch it?"

"Of course you can touch it." Corlu knelt down beside the little girl and helped her reach out to the flower.

Snickers erupted from behind her. She looked to her left and watched as one of the boys lifted up his tunic and relieved himself over the flowers nearest them. He directed the stream of urine specifically and maliciously so that the spray hit Saspan in the face.

She screamed and ran back from the pond.

"Stop that!" yelled Corlu. "How can you be so filthy?"

Corlu made to grab his arm, but before she could reach him, he had directed the last drops over the feet of the other little boy, who instantly threw him to the ground. The two boys fought viciously, rolling over one another in the mud. Corlu had just decided to let them fight it out when she spotted the rock held in one of the boy's hand. For a moment it hovered high above the face of the other boy and then began its descent.

With a quick movement, Corlu threw herself at the tangled bodies. Speechless, she threw the rock to the side and stared at the children. They stood motionless for a moment and then, realizing that there would be no harsh punishment, scrambled to their feet and ran off back towards camp.

Corlu wiped the mud from her knees and walked back to where Saspan waited. The little girl was shaking with excitement. "He had a rock. You should hurt him, Corlu. Hit him hard!"

The little girl's eyes were filled with a perverse gleam. It was not a look Corlu had ever seen before. It spoke of violence and pleasure, acts that no one, let alone a little girl should ever have witnessed.

Corlu felt a sudden spasm of repulsion shake through her body, and she involuntarily pulled her hand from Saspan's grasp. The little girl hardly seemed to notice, jumping up and down and muttering beside Corlu as they headed back to the settlement. "Killed it! Kill it! They killed that frog."

Finally Corlu could stand no more. "Stop it, Saspan!" she snapped, pulling away. "Just be quiet!"

Saspan stopped and looked up at her with a look of fear that made Corlu's throat constrict. Ashamed of herself, she reached out to tousle the girl's hair. "I'm sorry, Saspan. I'm not angry."

The look of fear disappeared, replaced by a blank, but secretive look. Corlu felt guilty and attempted to draw Saspan out, but the little girl would say nothing more. What horrors had these children been through, wondered Corlu? What had made them so strange, so brutal and sly, with a thirst for blood and violence? It made her heartsick. Not for the first time she felt a pang of longing for the measured order of the village, a emotion so strong it hurt, making her pull up short to swallow down the tears.

Wiping her eyes surreptitiously, Corlu looked over at Saspan, who stood docile, as if awaiting her orders. The little girl stared back. Her look was neither accusatory nor beseeching; it was simply blank. She is beyond reach, thought Corlu hopelessly. These children will never adjust to village life.

Pulling herself together, Corlu strode quickly back to the camp. Saspan trotted at her heels, but as they came up to the first set of huts, the little girl quietly dropped away. Corlu stopped for a moment to see where she had gone, but inwardly she was relieved.

Ahead, she saw Lian stepping out of their hut. He waved and waited while she came up. "Alba's back."

"When?"

"She just got in. They saw nothing, but found mushrooms. She's sending groups up tomorrow to harvest the rest."

"Where is she? Is she with Leela"

Lian cocked his head and looked at her questioningly, picking up on the barely suppressed urgency of her tone. "She's with Leela now, but she told everyone to go to the meal shelter."

"Do you think we can be ready to leave by the day after next?"

"Perhaps," he answered, looking down at her. "It depends on how much work we have tomorrow." Lian's face told her nothing of what he was thinking. His expression was grave, the skin pulled tight over his cheekbones, chiseling out a strange beauty that had never been apparent when they were all well fed and safe in the care of the village. They were no longer children.

"We'll need supplies, but I suppose all that depends on what the route is like." He stopped and let out a deep breath. "If we have to go through the Remains . . . "

For some reason she no longer felt anger at his doubts. "I know you think she's lying, Lian, but I trust Alba. If she says there's a way around the Remains, there's a way around them." Corlu looked out over the island and up past the waterfall. "We know what to expect now, anyway."

"Yes. But that's what I'm worried about!"

Corlu forced a laugh, but she was worried too. Telling Lian she'd meet him at the meal house, Corlu wove her way around the huts to Alba's shelter in the middle of the camp. As she drew closer, she heard Alba's voice from inside.

"Hello!" she called, a step away from the threshold.

A hand swept aside the ragged curtain that protected the entryway. "Is that you Corlu? Come in." Alba's voice sounded cheerful. The journey must have gone well.

"You're back,' Corlu said awkwardly as she stepped down into the shelter. From across the way, she could see Leela staring at her angrily. Corlu knew she was annoyed that someone had intruded on her time with Alba.

"Sorry. I should have waited until the meal—"

"No," said Alba motioning her further inside. "It's good to see you. The patrol went well, and I'm sure you've already heard about the bacrels." She grinned. "I was just telling Leela. Glade after glade of them! We'll be eating mushrooms until they're coming out of our ears."

"That's wonderful," said Corlu distractedly. Her mind already parsing out how she would state her questions.

"How the clava root hunting?" asked Leela with a hint of spite.

Corlu reddened, thankful for the darkness of the shelter. She and the others had taken on the extra duty of looking for clava root as a way to show their gratitude for being taken into the camp. Their efforts, however, has lessened markedly in the last week.

"Nothing yet," she muttered and then took a deep breath. "But we'll get them in before we leave for home."

""Home?" hissed Leela.

Alba and Leela exchanged a look, and then Alba then turned back to Corlu. "Plenty of time to talk about all that later. Let me change my tunic and then I'll meet you at the meal house."

"Of course," said Corlu uneasily, moving towards the door. "I'll see you there."
Chapter Fourteen

Corlu stepped out of the hut with a feeling of dissatisfaction. She hoped Alba wasn't going to delay them again. But why should she? she argued, trying to push back the suspicious thoughts that grew like mushrooms in the dark corners of her mind. Maybe they could offer to put in extra work on the storage hut before they left. That would show their gratitude for all Alba had done for them.

The earth was hard and cracked below her bare feet. It had been dry for many days now. They were entering the last stages of summer, a season of hot weather and no rain—a time when disease flourished, but a good time for a journey. They would keep warm and dry and would barely need to light a fire.

"Corlu! called Deera, waving her over. She was sitting on the edge of the gathering crowd, away from the fire.

Deera pulled a large stone from behind her and pushed it over to Corlu, who took a seat on its rough surface. The dried moss fell away and crumbled at her touch.

"Shiall and Lian are coming. Did you hear about the mushrooms?"

Corlu nodded distractedly and looked around to see if Alba had arrived yet.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Deera, lowering her voice. "So it's good that we're alone."

Corlu turned, surprised at the seriousness of her tone.

"Shiall thinks I'm being too nervous about all of this, but I think we need to leave. I'm worried. Anything could be happening back at the village."

Corlu nodded. Deera was putting words to her own fears.

"I think . . . " fumbled Deera, as if she distrusted Corlu's possible reaction. "I think we've lost track of what we came for. We should get back and tell the village what we've found."

She fell silent. Before Corlu could summon up an answer, a loud cheering broke out around them. Alba strode into the crowd, laughing and answering questions. When she neared the fire, she turned and held up her hand.

Someone called something out from near the cooking pots. Alba rolled her eyes and laughed. The light from the flames turned her hair into a mass of gleaming gold.

The crowd murmured and began to settle down. Corlu leaned forward to hear well.

"First, I want to let everyone know that second patrol covered a larger distance in three days than we've ever done before. This means we are getting better and better. It means we are keeping ourselves safe."

Alba paused for the loud calls of approval and clapping that arose. During the pause, Lian and Shiall snuck in beside them. Corlu gave them a smile, but gestured with her head toward Alba, whose voice had risen and strengthened.

"Life is hard," Alba called out. "It's hard, and it requires vigilance and strength. But." She held up her hand again. "But, if we're prepared, there's life, a chance at life. This is what we've been working towards. This is what we escaped from the camps for!" Her voice grew louder as the cheers began. "This is what so many died for! The chance to remain free from our enemies. To live and die free!"

The crowd erupted in a mad explosion of tearful yells. Corlu felt herself caught up in the emotion, but part of her remained separate, scanning the faces next to her. As she looked around she caught Deera's eye. She was clapping politely, but there was disapproval in her eyes. Corlu felt a spasm of annoyance at Deera. They both knew it wasn't the way they did it in the village, but why did Deera have to be difficult? Surely, Alba deserved a welcome home, even if she was stirring up the crowd to such a height? Anyway, every word she had spoken was a true one. Wasn't that why they themselves had left the village in the first place?

"Yes, we should be proud of ourselves," Alba boomed out over the noise. "Unfortunately, it is also time to speak of the mistakes we've been making."

The crowd quieted. Many began to sit down.

"Three times in the last month, I have been able to break through the line on the south side of the island without the guard noticing." As the tenor of Alba's voice changed, a tension began to grow within the crowd. "If it wasn't for the brachen patrol and the patrols on the beach and hillside, we could've been easily taken by surprise."

Heads turned towards a group of younger children, who shifted uncomfortably. It was their job to watch the island, while those who were older and stronger ranged in the canyons and glades above the cliff or along the coastline.

"This is the last warning. In the next few days, if I am able to break through, those on duty will be punished."

Several of the children broke into tears; one of them into loud wailing cries. A girl moved over and comforted him roughly, but most of the older children simply jeered and hooted.

"Next," shouted Alba. "Is the eating of animal flesh. This is forbidden by law and by custom. Fram, this is the third time you have broken the law. I've given you warnings, and now you must accept the punishment."

Corlu's stomach clenched, waiting to hear the verdict. Punishment was too brutal here at the settlement, and she expected the worst given Fram's flagrant disregard for the law. She disliked the boy intensely, but she hated the punishments Alba handed out.

So, it was with a feeling of confusion that she heard the verdict: "As punishment, you will be responsible for trench duty for the next seven days."

The crowd roared with laughter and catcalls. Fram groaned, but shrugged and grinned over at his friend Lasid. Corlu caught Deera's eye again and saw her own thoughts mirrored back to her. Trench duty! It was a nasty dirty job, but there was something empty about Alba's choice of punishment. Taking care of the daily waste generated by forty odd children was not something the settlement put much effort into. Fram would have little to do, and, if he didn't put in much effort, no one would really know or care.

"I'd feel better, if I actually believed he was going to clean up that mess" whispered Deera. "I'm worried about the summer sickness. It's only a matter of time."

Corlu nodded, but she barely heard what Deera said. She was trying to hear Alba, who was haranguing two girls sitting in the front for fighting whilst on guard duty.

The girls were eventually punished with four days worth of overnight patrol. With heads hanging, they got up and walked off to let the current guard know that they would take their place. They would go without the evening meal and would still be expected to work hard tomorrow when the patrol was finished.

The crowd moved restlessly, expecting Alba to announce the start of the meal, but she was not finished.

"I also must bring up a case in which a guard has been seen talking to the prisoner." The crowd murmured. Beside her, Corlu felt Deera twitch.

"This is a serious breaking of the rules and could put our lives in danger. This is the first warning." Alba paused and searched the crowd. Corlu wondered who had been the culprit. Then Alba stopped and seemed to look directly at her. Heads turned in her direction.

"Deera!" called Alba. "Please stand up!"

Shiall gasped, but Deera calmly got to her feet and faced Alba with a quiet expression on her face. She seemed neither scared nor defiant.

"Deera, do you understand that you must not speak with the prisoner?"

Deera nodded slightly.

"Many here, perhaps all, desire speech with him."

"And to give him a slow death!" called out a girl to their left. The crowd growled with approval.

Corlu shifted uncomfortably and looked at Lian. Corlu could tell that he was purposefully schooling his face so as not to betray his thoughts, but she knew the disgust that lay behind that stern expression, and it generated a host of conflicting thoughts in her mind. The idea of killing anyone or even talking about it was repugnant to her, and yet when she remembered the day of the Culling when she had lain terrified in the cold mud, when she imagined her mother being slaughtered, she felt a hot rage spiral up inside of her.

"I know what you want," continued Alba. "But, I want him left alone until he's ready to talk with me. Only this way will we find out what the Clacamash are up to. I understand why you broke the rules, Deera--we all wish to know why these filthy animals do what they do--but you must follow orders. He's not to be spoken to or harmed."

Deera nodded again and then sat down.

Alba looked around for a moment, and then her serious expression was slowly replaced by a grin. "And now I think it's time that we enjoy the feast that the cooks have spent the last hour preparing." She turned and picked up a plate, and the crowd surged forward, hungry for food and ready to talk amongst themselves.

Shiall, Lian, Deera, and Corlu hung back. When there was enough room between them and the children at the end of the line, Shiall turned on Deera.

"What have you been doing?" she demanded.

"You heard Alba," replied Deera with a smile. "Somebody must have seen me talking to him."

Shiall shook her head in amazement. She could barely get her words out. "You've been talking to him! Him? It's a Clacamash, Deera! A Clacamash! What have you been doing?"

Lian and Corlu looked at each other uneasily, but Corlu could tell that he was as curious as she was. What had Deera has been doing?

"Shiall, don't get angry." Deera said wearily. "There's no point. I've only exchanged a few words with him—"

"What? What did you say?" interrupted Shiall.

"Once I asked him whether he wanted more water. Yesterday I asked him what his name was."

"You did what?" Lian was looking at her in amazement.

"I asked him what his name was. He's called Carran."

"Why did you do that?" asked Corlu in amazement.

"Yes." Shiall said furiously. "Why would you do that?"

Deera shrugged. "I've been taking him food and water for the last few days. I was curious." She frowned. "I don't think he wants to live."

Shiall let out an angry snort of amazement. "Who cares whether it lives or dies, Deera! The only thing we want it to do before Alba kills it is talk--tell us what the rest of them are up to." She roughly grabbed Deera's arm, shaking her a little. "Tell me you'll stop this."

Without warning, Deera violently pulled away. "Leave me alone, Shiall!" she said in a quiet, but furious voice. "I'm tired of you telling me what to do."

Shiall dropped her arm in amazement; Corlu and Lian simply stared. Corlu had never seen this side of Deera before. Authority flashed from her eyes. She gave them all a sweeping look and then walked off back to the hut.

"I don't believe this," said Shiall, shaking her head.

"We have to make sure she stops," Lian said. "Alba's serious about the punishments."

"Luckily, Alba thinks she was taunting him or trying to find out where the Clacamash live," said Corlu.

"I know!" interrupted Shiall. "But if she finds out Deera was trying to get to know him, she'll be furious. What was she thinking?"

"Come on," said Corlu. "You make it sound as if she was trying to befriend him."

"Well?" answered Shiall belligerently. "What do you call asking someone their name? Sounds like the start of a friendship to me! And you don't know Deera like I do. You don't understand how she thinks."

"What do you mean?" asked Corlu.

But Shiall simply pursed her lips and shook her head. "I'll talk to her. Don't worry."

Corlu opened her mouth to ask another question, but she shut it when she saw the look on Shiall's face. Her hands were shaking, and there was twitch near her left eye that Corlu had never seen before. Shiall looked as though the slightest comment would cause her to erupt into an explosion of violence.

"Come on. Let's get some food before it's all gone," said Lian into the awkward silence. "Come on."

Shiall and Corlu followed Lian to the line in front of the big clay pots. The cooks piled plates high with bacrel stew—a rare feast—but Corlu noticed, when they sat down to eat, that Shiall did little more than angrily jab at the pieces of mushrooms.

By the time the last pot had been scraped clean, night had fallen. Usually the fire was allowed to slowly fall into embers, but tonight some of the younger children were sent to drag branches from the woodpile and throw them onto the flames. Corlu looked about, curious.

Through the crowd, she could make out Alba, talking with Eli, the younger girl staring up at her in open admiration. Corlu was about to make her way over to them to see if she could talk to her about the journey, when Alba suddenly stood up and moved through the crowd to where two of the older boys were supporting a cloaked figure. Alba thanked the boys and then took their place, leading the figure over to the spot near the fire.

As they passed, the crowd fell silent and then began to whisper and murmur. When the pair reached the fire, the figure paused and stared out at the crowd. It was Leela, looking much sicker than she had been, even just this afternoon. Her eyes were deeply shadowed and her hair fell lankly around a face stretched thin by illness.

Alba helped her sit on a large rock and then gently wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Though the night was full of soft warm breezes, Leela shivered.

"Watch out she doesn't curse you!" whispered one of the little boys who had been crying earlier.

His friend look terrified and began gnawing at his fingernails.

"I heard she can foresee your death, even change the sticks to will it," chimed in a girl called Jessal.

"Alba tells her what to do though," said the first boy.

"That's not what I've heard," Jessal said darkly. "I heard Leela's in charge. Every night she throws the sticks and combs the fire, and then she gives Alba orders."

"When she's so sickly!" scoffed the boy, though with an unsure quaver in his voice.

"Health and strength aren't everything!" hissed Jessal. "Watch and see. Where were you last time when she foresaw the coming of the prisoner and of the others?"

Up by the fire, Alba and Eli were bustling around Leela. After a moment, Alba turned back to the crowd. "Quiet!" She raised her voice angrily. "Quiet!"

Muttering, Leela threw a bunch of small sticks into the air. They landed before her on the dry mud. With her hood pulled tightly around her, she hunched over, pushing them back and forth with her right index finger.

A couple of the children in front of Corlu stood up so as to see better. Corlu wondered what was happening. She turned to the others, but Lian simply shrugged.

"I think she's pretending to look into the future," whispered Shiall after a moment.

"What?" Lian made a grimace. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember Ana telling us about how in the old days people would try to see what was going to happen by—"

"Sssshhh!" hissed Corlu.

Lian shot her an impatient look. "But that was long ago. Surely they don't believe in that superstition? Don't they remember any training from the village?"

Shiall shrugged.

Leela had begun to wail and sway back and forth. Suddenly, she stumbled to her knees. Eli jumped forward as if to help her, but Alba pulled her back, shaking her head. Leela raised her hands in the air and began to make a series of circular gestures over the fire. With long flowing strokes, as if she were caressing the flames, she then began to slowly lower her hands. Hypnotized, Corlu watched as the fire engulfed her hands and wrists. The girl had to be in agony, but she did not flinch or cry out.

When she eventually withdrew her hands, Eli ran forth with a shallow pot. Leela plunged her hands into the water and then shook her hands dry, the drops gleaming orange and gold in the firelight.

"What we feared has come!" she called out in a shrill voice.

The crowd gasped.

"No!" said Alba, taking a half step forward as if she wished to stop Leela from continuing.

"Yes! I know what I have seen."

"What? What did you see?" breathed Eli in a horrified voice.

"Before our village shall grow, I foresee death and destruction. The Clacamash are coming, and we must rush to defend ourselves."

Now the assembly was in an uproar, everyone talking at once. Shiall, Lian, and Corlu traded looks. Surely Alba knew that it was all superstitious nonsense? How could they possibly believe that the future could be told by throwing sticks on the ground? It went against everything in village teaching.

Corlu looked over at Alba. She was nodding grimly as if resigned to meet her fate.

"Will we win?" cried out a frightened voice.

"The sticks tell one story, the fire another" said Leela. "If we make preparation, I foresee that we will triumph, but we've become lax. We've forgotten what we've been through and what can happen to us. We must grow strong again."

"How much more can they do?" whispered Lian with a hint of acerbity. "It's not as if they live an easy life here." Corlu exchanged a look with him. She could see the anger and contempt deep in his eyes. She knew what he must think of the exaggerated language, the ridiculous ritual.

As if she had guessed her thoughts, Leela searched the crowd until her eyes found Corlu. "I have heard laughter and singing in the last few weeks. There is no place now for such lightness. Some of us have forgotten our belief that all must be made strong. You do the weak no favor when you take on their burdens or protect them."

Corlu glared back at Leela. She knew what the girl was referring to. Often, she had helped Saspan or one of the very small children with their tasks. While she agreed with the idea that all must learn how to fend for themselves, she thought some of the tasks were too much for children of only eight or nine summers. It hadn't hurt anyone, and neither had her efforts to step in when the children brutally picked on one another. What kind of belief said that it was a good thing that the children should learn to cowardly attack another child in groups of three or four?

"She's been spying on you," Lian whispered.

Corlu nodded. She wouldn't put it past the girl to send out children to report on her. She was sly and bitter, full of petty jealousy. But isn't that the best way to run things? asked a voice in her head. After all, didn't it make sense to keep an eye on anyone new?

That's not why she's doing it, said another voice. She hates you because you're whole, and because she fears that you will replace her in Alba's affections. She's jealous because she is sick and weak, a drain on the settlement.

Corlu tried to push the thought away. It seemed almost as petty as Leela's own actions. She forced her mind back to the task at hand.

"Come on," she said. "It's time we talked to Alba about that other route around the Remains."

"Alba!" she called. "Over here!"

Corlu wove her way through the children heading back to their huts, Lian and Shiall at her back. Alba had a distracted look on her face, but she smiled as Corlu approached.

"We'll have a lot to do tomorrow. I could use your help."

"You have it," answered Corlu. "All of us will help. But I wanted to talk with you about our journey back. We need to make plans."

Alba frowned. "Leela's prophecy didn't say we would lose. You're afraid, so you and your friends desert us?"

"No," answered Corlu, hurt. "You know we have to get back to tell the village that there is somewhere they can live in peace."

"As you just heard, there'll be no peace," said Alba, gesturing angrily back at the fire. "Peace is a dream. The Clacamash will find us no matter how far we travel. We must fight them and win."

Behind her back, Corlu heard Lian make a scoffing noise. Alba immediately turned on him. "What do you mean by that?"

Lian stepped in closer, but Corlu jumped in. "Alba, it has nothing to do with believing what Leela said tonight or not. It is time we made our way back. Of course we will help with the defenses before we go. And if it happens, we'll stay and fight. If we could just go over a map with you, so you can show us the route that you were talking about . . ."

Alba's face was like winter. "I expected more from you, Corlu, but if you have to leave I'll get you the map."

Corlu relaxed, letting out a breath. She hated disappointing Alba this way.

"But," continued Alba. "I have more important matters to deal with. Come to my tent in a couple of days and we'll discuss this further." Without another word she turned and walked away.

Corlu watched her leave and tried to ignore the doubt she saw reflected in Lian's face.
Chapter Fifteen

My beloved lies across the water.

But come again, she never will.

I built her a brachen,

But the waves overturned it.

I built her a bridge,

But the storm winds destroyed it.

Who knows the paths across

The wild sea?

The wind and the rain.

The wind and the rain.

\--Traditional lullaby

Corlu walked past the prisoner's hut almost on tiptoe, straining her ears to hear something. She knew it was near the time when the prisoner received his once a day meal, and, while she hated herself for spying, she couldn't help but listen to see if Deera was obeying Alba's orders. The hut was quiet; the only sound the light wind in the bushes and the buzzing of the wasps around the late summer flowers.

So intent was she on remaining quiet that she failed to see Deera as she appeared along the path. Looking up, she met Deera's quizzical gaze.

"Were you looking for me?"

"Not really. I mean I knew you'd be here at this time, but . . ." Corlu faltered, feeling annoyed and guilty. "You were on duty last night too?"

"Yes. Must do my part for the preparations," said Deera with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

Corlu sighed. "I'm speaking with Alba tonight. But I can't push her too hard. She thinks we're leaving because we're afraid."

"Corlu," said Deera. "She's not ever going to agree. I wish you'd see that. I doubt there is a way around the Remains anyway."

"You think she's lying?" Corlu's temper rose. She'd had about enough of Deera's criticisms of Alba. Many things were wrong, but why couldn't Deera see what Alba had accomplished? Then, unbidden, a picture of this morning's beating arose in her mind. They were becoming a daily occurrence now since Leela's foreseeing. Jessal had cheated on the food gathering and had received six lashes. The girl had held out until the fourth stroke and then had collapsed in a bloody tearful mess.

Corlu winced, willing the picture away. Deera looked at her as if she knew exactly what she was thinking.

"I'm sorry, Corlu, but I think she'll do anything to keep us here, especially you and Shiall. You've both become as important to her as Leela I think."

"Come on. What about Lian? Yourself?"

Deera made a scoffing noise. "Me? She knows what I think! And Lian, well she knows very well that he wants to leave."

"Neither of you see the good she has done!" Corlu snapped.

Now it was Deera's turn to sigh. "No, Corlu. I know she's everything you admire, and Shiall also, but I just wish you could see what I see. I don't want to quarrel."

She picked up the pot she had set down and moved towards the hut. "Speak to her tonight, and, if she still doesn't show you the map, I have something I want to tell you about."

"What?" asked Corlu, puzzled, but Deera simply waved her on.

"I've got to finish this before the meeting. I'll see you there."

With a backwards look at Deera, Corlu strode along the path back to the meal shelter. Alba had called another meeting, announcing that she would explain their plans for the anticipated attack. This had only added to the growing tension and sense of foreboding that dominated the village. As Corlu made her way through the crowd, she noticed the fear in the children's eyes and, more worrying, the resignation, as if they had always known that Alba's dream of security was simply that—a dream, an illusion as insubstantial and impermanent as sea foam on a storm-beaten beach.

Irritation burned in Corlu's stomach. It was all so pointless. There was no evidence that the Clacamash were coming. There was nothing at all, only Leela's ridiculous playing with sticks and fires.

Seeing Lian's head in the crowd, she made her way over to him. Deera and Shiall soon came up behind them. A silence had fallen over the crowd as Alba came up to the shelter.

Instead of moving to her usual place to the fire, Alba walked over to a large boulder and jumped up, forcing the entire crowd to change direction in order to face her. Her hair flashed gold in the sun. She raised her arm.

"We have little time, but I know that all of you are prepared to work day and night to prepare our defenses. We've determined that walls can be built to provide the first line of defense against the enemy. We will protect our settlement—"

"What?" said Lian under his breath. "I thought the plan was to retreat to those caves. They'll never—"

"Ssh," said Shiall angrily.

As if sensing his words, Alba's voice grew louder. "These walls need to be high; but they will be strong. There we will fight. There we will win! Yes, we will win! Or die fighting the animals!"

Alba's words drew a tumult of shouts and roars from the crowd. Some put their heads backs and howled like wolves; others pumped their fists in the air and grabbed their neighbors in fierce hugs.

Corlu looked at the others in amazement. Her shock was reflected in their eyes; in Deera's however there was more--a deep, deep sadness.

"She's mad!" said Lian. "I've had enough."

Corlu rubbed her forehead. "If she really thinks they're coming, why aren't we leaving? They can't win."

Shiall looked troubled. "Well, we have been training. Wasn't the point to fight?"

Corlu turned and stared at her. "To defend ourselves in a time of last resort! But why should life be wasted needlessly?"

"Walls? Walls!" repeated Lian in amazement. "Do they know how long it takes to build a wall even waist high? And out of what materials?"

"Perhaps she simply wants them focused on a task to help diminish the fear," said Shiall unhappily. She dropped her eyes when the others stared at her, as if she knew how weak the explanation sounded.

Corlu watched as the crowd dissipated and as her friends walked off back to their work. Alba was no longer there. She searched for her amongst the buildings and finally glimpsed her surrounded by a group of older children, as if planning final battle strategies.

She loves the excitement of this. The thought came unbidden and remained foremost in her mind. This makes her life worthwhile; only this gives her purpose. She speaks and we obey.

Corlu stood there for a moment staring at the dusty ground beneath her bare feet. She no longer knew what to think, what to do. Apathy stilled her limbs. Then, realizing how strange she looked standing motionless and alone, she began to walk over to Alba. She had said that she would speak to her about their journey home and she would do just that.

"Here you are" said Alba. "Look, I have one last job for you lot before you leave."

"Before we leave?"

Alba grinned at Corlu's look of amazement. "Yes. I suppose it's best to let you go, but I need you, Lian, and Shiall on guard duty up on the cliffs tonight. Last night's patrol thinks they saw tracks, but Fram's not sure."

Corlu was taken aback, but she forced herself to speak. "We'll go, Alba, but we're no better reading tracks than Fram. What about Eli?"

"I need Eli here," answered Alba with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Anxious to placate Alba before she changed her mind and ordered them to stay, Corlu nodded. "I'll tell the others."

With a brusque nod, Alba turned away and was immediately involved in another conversation. Corlu felt a pang of disappointment; yet she didn't know what she had expected--a smile, a pat on the shoulder?

Corlu swung her arms angrily as she made her way to the supply hut. She felt annoyed at all of them—Lian, Alba, Shiall, and Deera—sick of being caught in the middle.

Shiall and Lian were working on stocking the last load of galla nuts when she came up.

"Alba wants us up on the cliffs tonight—something about some tracks Fram found,' she said abruptly, daring them to argue. "When we're done, she says we can start preparations to leave."

"Good," said Lian with obvious relief. "Come on then. Let's just get the job done."

"What about Deera?" asked Shiall. "I should let her know."

"There's no time," said Corlu gruffly, perversely finding pleasure in stymieing Shiall.

"Fine!" said Shiall holding her hands up and angrily throwing down a sack of beans, so that they tumbled out around her feet.

Lian stared at them both. Corlu ignore him and smirked at Shiall's back as they marched off, relishing her anger.
Chapter Sixteen

"Hey!"

Corlu glimpsed Fram's dirty red hair from the brachen. They were paddling back from patrol duty, and he was standing waiting for them, with a huge smirk on his face as if eager to impart news.

"Get out of the way!" said Shiall, pushing him aside, as she tied up the brachen.

"Won't be so pushy when you hear what I have to say" said Fram angrily. "Not when I tell you about your stupid friend."

"What then? What?" demanded Shiall impatiently, still concentrating on the boat.

"She's a traitor."

Shiall spun around, angrily grabbing the boy's freckled arm. "What do you mean?"

"Thought you didn't want to know?" he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Tell me," said Shiall through gritted teeth, giving him a violent shake.

"Shiall," cautioned Lian. "Just let him go. We'll find out soon enough. I'm sure he's just making it up."

"I am not!" cried Fram, trying to yank away from Shiall's grip. "But I'm not going to tell you now!"

"Oh yes you are, you little rat!" Shiall gave him another angry shake.

"Leave me alone!" he shouted, finally getting free of Shiall's grasp. He ran up the bank, but turned when at a safe distance.

"You'll be sorry!" he called down.

Shiall shrugged and made to make her way slowly up the bank.

A look of pure hatred crossed Fram's face. "Your traitor friend's been in prison all night!" he spat. "Wonder how that felt after her beating! She got ten—"

His last words were lost in Shiall's cry of fury.

Corlu started forward, but Shiall was already sprinting up the slope towards Fram. He hesitated for a minute and then turned and ran, clearly terrified by the look on Shiall's face.

"Shiall!" called Corlu. "Wait!"

But Shiall was out of sight.

"Come on!" cried Lian.

The two ran up the slope after her. As they came up to the first set of huts, Corlu could hear Shiall bellowing. "Where is she? Where have you put her?"

Following her shouts, Lian and Corlu came running around the corner, expecting the worst. Instead, they were met by an unexpected picture: Alba was holding Shiall at arm's length and talking to her quietly.

Alba turned towards them as they rushed up. "I put Deera under guard last night. I was just about to let her out. She was caught talking to the prisoner again."

"You did what?" demanded Corlu stepping forward so close that she could see the flecks of gray in Alba's clear blue eyes.

"You can't do that!" yelled Lian from behind.

Shiall yanked herself out of Alba's grasp, as if waking herself from a deep sleep. "Where is she? Just tell us where she is?"

Alba straightened her shoulders and slowly and pointedly gazed around at each of them in turn. Then she nodded with her head in the direction of the prisoner's hut and stalked off down the path ahead of them.

Corlu clenched her fists. She looked over at Shiall as they hurried down the trail; she was shaking and pale with anger. What could Alba possibly have said that had stopped Shiall from attacking her? Was Shiall waiting to take vengeance until after Deera was released? That wasn't like Shiall at all.

As they came up to the prisoner hut, Corlu felt her anger threatening to boil over. A tiny rough shelter about waist high had been thrown together next to the hut that held the Clacamash. A rope twisted across the front. There was a strong smell of urine.

"You put her in there?" Corlu shouted.

"Open it up!" ordered Alba, pointedly ignoring Corlu.

Eli strode forward with a self-important air and began to fumble at the rope knots.

"How could you?" demanded Corlu. She was horrified, imagining their gentle Deera being dragged in front of the crowds of children to be beaten and then thrown into that filthy hole. Why had they ever left her alone? Why had she ever trusted Alba?

"Hurry up!" Alba barked still ignoring Corlu.

Eli shot her a worried look and then hurriedly returned to the knots. Eventually they loosened enough for her to get her fingers in between, and, with one last pull, the rope fell free. Lifting off a couple of pieces of wood, she peered inside.

"Are you letting me out?" Deera's voice was weak, but amusement still played at the edges.

"Deera!" Shiall rushed forward and helped her slide out of the shelter. Deera's hands were tied behind her back, she was filthy, and blood stained the back side of her tunic.

Corlu shot Alba a furious look and ran forward, pulling out her knife and cutting the rope that bound Deera's wrists. Shiall and Lian helped her to stand, while Corlu turned to face Alba.

"Who gave you the authority to do this?"

"You did," said Alba quietly. "You did, Corlu, when you joined our group. Did you think it was just a game? That if any of you disobeyed the rules I was simply going to play favorites and let you out of any punishment?"

Alba stepped closer. Corlu could now make out every freckle, every shade of blue in her eye. "It was necessary, and I'll do it again, if she's caught anywhere near that thing in there." She gestured with disgust at the hut. "At first I thought she was just trying to show off or hurt the prisoner, but it's worse." She spat, contempt twisting her features into an angry mask. "She's too soft. She doesn't belong here."

Corlu moved quickly as if to strike Alba, but Lian was faster and grabbed her arm, dragging her backwards.

"We understand, Alba," he said, squeezing Corlu's arm as he turned her around. "We're just going to take her back to the sleeping hut."

"Good," said Alba grimly. "Then you have meal house duty."

"Yes," replied Lian, pushing Corlu back along the path. Shiall was already leading Deera further ahead.

As soon as his hold on her lessened, Corlu turned on Lian. "Since when have you become a coward?" She hated herself as soon as the words came tumbling out of her mouth, but she was too upset to apologize.

Lian simply shook his head in exasperation. "What an idiot you are sometimes! How do you think we're going to get out of here alive? I doubt she trusts any of us now. She's probably conspiring with Leela to kill us all in our sleep."

Corlu stopped and stared at him. He looked worried.

"You don't really believe that?"

"Yes. Yes I do." Lian brought his hand to his face and rubbed his jaw. He looked older; the planes of his face had hardened into manhood. "You must be dreaming if you can't see that things are going very wrong here. Everyone's fearful. They'd kill their own father, if she asked them to."

"I know. I see it too, but . . ."

"There is no but," said Lian firmly, taking her by the arm again. "We have to get out of here as quickly and quietly as possible, and, in the meantime, we have to act as if we're staying."

He looked her directly in the face, holding her still until she nodded, just as he'd done on the beach when she's been afraid to climb. He was right.

Her anger disappeared, transformed into a disturbing sensation, a melting that spread quickly through her limbs. She wanted to move into his arms, to feel her cheek against the breadth of his chest, but she forced herself to step away. She had to get control of her emotions.

Silently they walked over to the sleeping hut where Deera stood in the door. "Shiall I've got the salve on. I'll heal, but I'm not staying in this hole in the ground!"

"You need to rest," said Shiall.

"I will rest. I'm going to go and sit down by the water. There's a breeze there."

She smiled up at Corlu and Deera.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Corlu. "We shouldn't have left."

Deera sighed. "That's the first thing that Shiall said. Corlu, I'm not your responsibility."

"She beat you."

"Yes she did; just like we watched her beat all of the other children."

Corlu was silent, not knowing how to reply. It was true. She had hated it, but she had not stopped the beating when it was one of the others; she had simply turned away.

Eli ran up, panting in the heat. "You better hurry. You're supposed to be on meal house duty." She turned and left, kicking up dust as she ran.

Lian nodded grimly. "Let's just get this done."

Corlu looked up at him as if she was seeing him anew. She was thrown off balance, as if she had read the current wrong and paddled into white water. What more had she failed to see?

She thought she had judged Alba fairly and well: a leader, harsh and exacting, but someone who thought and felt as she herself did. She remembered the excitement of those first few days, how her heart had soared with freedom and exhilaration. She remembered the times Alba had praised her or made an offhand comment, signaling that they were alike in their thinking or actions. Then she remembered how she had swelled with pride, and she cringed with shame.

She had been so intent on garnering approval that she had misjudged. The brutal manners, the punishments, the refusal to listen to anyone else, except Leela—-she had not weighed these flaws in the balance. It had taken an attack on one of her own to make her see clearly.
Chapter Seventeen

That night the heat clamped down on the island. Even the breezes off the sea were hot and dry. Corlu lay awake, while the others slept. Her mind kept coming back to Alba. Lian had to be mistaken. Alba would never actually hurt her? Would she? She wondered just how much power Leela wielded from within that dark fetid hut.

"Are you awake?" came a whisper from Deera's blanket.

"Yes," Corlu whispered back.

"I've been waiting 'til Shiall fell asleep. I wanted to show you something?"

"What?" asked Corlu, reluctant to get up, despite her restlessness.

In the doorway, Deera's figure was outlined by the night sky.

Corlu reluctantly slid out from her blanket "Where are we going?"

"Come on!"

Outside, Deera beckoned from down the path, her dark hair gleaming in the moonlight. They walked in silence until they had passed the last of the huts.

"Where are we going?" demanded Corlu. "What about the guard?"

Deera grinned and beckoned her on further. As they reached the prisoner's hut, she pointed down behind a bush. Two of the children lay fast asleep on the ground, as if they had fallen where they stood. Their arms had fallen around each other, and they cuddled together like small animals.

They walked on. When they came up to the water, Corlu almost fell over the second guard, Fram and one of his friends, snoring heavily.

"This means nobody's guarding the island!" whispered Corlu frantically.

"I'm sure Eli's awake on the other side, but it doesn't matter. Let them sleep."

Corlu stepped closer, trying to make out Deera's features in the darkness. "Don't you care?" she whispered. "What about an attack?"

"No, I don't care, and I'll tell you why in a moment. First I want to show you something."

"Ssh. You'll wake them."

"No I won't" Deera laughed. "Follow me!"

Near the end of the ocean side of the island, they stopped, clutching their mouths and noses. The stench was like a solid wall. It arose from the overflowing trenches.

Corlu watched as Deera hopped over the dark mass of ruts.

"Why are we here?" she shouted, her face screwed in a grimace of disgust.

"Not much further. There's no smell on the other side," Deera called back. "Watch your footing!"

"Watch my footing" grumbled Corlu to herself.

Once across the trenches, the ocean breeze gathered strength. Nobody ever bothered to come to this part of the island. The trenches were as far they went.

Through the low-growing shrubs, Corlu could make out the long breakers, their white manes sparkling in the full moon. The distant drumming as they fell on the sandbars filled the hot night with a sense of approaching doom. Something is coming, thought Corlu. It won't be long now.

Silently grabbing her arm, Deera pulled her through to a low mud bank to the left and then pointed at what looked like a large pile of wood.

"You found some . . . driftwood?" asked Corlu, worried that maybe Deera was running a fever. She was practically skipping as she circled the woodpile.

"Come see!" she called gleefully. "Come see!"

Corlu picked her away across the mud and flattened grass hummocks. Peering into the darkness, she saw something that looked like a wood floor, then a pole in the middle. The structure was rough. It looked like the skeleton of a large boat. She gasped.

"Deera? Where did you find this? Did it wash up?" Corlu ran up to its side, running her hands along the wood. "Where did this come from?"

Deera laughed giddily. "Isn't it incredible! Look at this—." She hoisted herself up onto the structure and pointed to the pole. "It's called a mast. We're going to attach cloth to it, and it'll catch the wind like wings. We won't have to paddle at all! Well, maybe a little."

"But where did you get it from?" Corlu climbed up beside her, inspecting the mast, the rope lashings.

"There was a picture of one of these on one of the scrolls in the map house. Liesen from the Council said that a long time ago, they were common in the village, but now nobody knows the craft of making them." Deera slapped the mast and smiled. "Do you know what this means?"

Corlu opened her mouth to speak—Deera hadn't answered her original question--but Deera hurried on, her voice bubbling with suppressed excitement. "If we can build it quickly, we can escape. Sail away, fly away, like birds." She pointed to the open ocean. "They couldn't even follow us!"

Corlu stared out at the silvered waves, trying to take it all in. She felt the first stirrings of hope.

"But it's more than that," continued Deera, raising her voice in excitement. "It means we can move the village—move them anywhere! Do you understand? We just have to learn to use the wind."

Corlu jumped down and leaned up against the structure, her mind racing ahead. Visions of rescuing Mari and her grandfather intermingled with memories of the day they almost drowned rounding the peninsula. "But how do you know how to use it? We could tip over as soon as we get out there."

"Well I have something more to tell you," said Deera. She paused for a moment. "I've been working on fixing it. It was in no condition to be taken out on the water. Still isn't."

"You've been re-building this from a memory of a picture? How did you—"

Deera grimaced. "Corlu, I had help."

"What do you mean?" said Corlu, looking around as if she expected someone to walk out of the shadows and claim their due.

Deera drummed her fingers on the side of the boat and then looked up. "This is going to be hard for you to understand, I think, but you have to promise to listen until I'm finished."

"Of course," said Corlu impatiently.

"You know I was on prisoner duty for days and days?"

"Yes? So?"

Deera paused for a moment. "So Carran's helped me. He's been giving me instructions on what to do next every time I bring him food."

"Carran!" spluttered Corlu. "You mean . . . you mean the prisoner? The Clacamash?"

Deera held up her hand. "You promised you'd listen to me."

Corlu ran her fingers through her hair in a nervous gesture, trying to make sense of Deera's words. "You . . . you let a Clacamash tell you what to do? You--" She began pacing back and forth across the sand and then made for the path.

Deera ran forward and grabbed her arm. "Corlu, wait! Don't go. Let me explain."

"Deera. How could you do this? They're our enemies!" Corlu shook off her hand, but remained.

"Carran isn't" said Deera firmly. "Just let me explain."

"What have you told him?"

"He knows about you. He wants to meet you."

Corlu jerked to a stop, her hand cupped to her mouth. She could find no words.

Deera's eyes were pleading now. "Please. Listen. He's not our enemy. Why do you think he's all the way down here? He was running away from the Clacamash. Do you understand? Away from them! They killed his entire family." She suddenly turned and angrily swung out at a gorse bush. "And now he's about to be killed by us!"

"What do you mean running from the Clacamash? He is Clacamash, or hadn't you noticed?"

Deera shook her head. "Don't you remember? Alba told us they're at war with each other. Carran says it's even worse than that. There's many groups fighting, and then ordinary people caught in between, just like us."

Corlu snorted. "Just like us!"

Deera ignored her and went on. "Like his family. They lived in a small group on the coast to the north, away from the fighting. That's how he knows how to build these boats. When his father wouldn't go to war and bring all of the adults to fight, they were killed. Carran escaped. He's been traveling for months."

Corlu let out a contemptuous laugh. "How can you believe that Deera? It's like Alba says: he's probably been sent as an advance spy, which means they are coming!"

"No! Carran says the furthest south the Clacamash have ever been is near our village. They're hundreds and hundreds of strodes away, and have no idea about Alba's little settlement here!"

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, I do." Deera's spoke quietly and firmly now. Whatever Corlu thought of all this, it was obvious that Deera believed with all of her heart that the Clacamash prisoner was telling the truth. "Think about it." Deera continued. "Did we ever see a single Clacamash on our journey?"

Corlu rubbed her hand across her tired eyes. "What about the people buried in the forest?"

"People just like us probably trying to escape the camps."

"They were killed. Remember the arrow?"

"No, I think they were carrying them. They didn't die from being shot. I think it was hunger or perhaps other injuries."

"Deera," groaned Corlu. "He's Clacamash."

"I know, but Alba lied to us. Carran sailed down here. He wrecked the boat on the shoals and pulled up here. Then they captured him." Deera made to grab her arm again, but stopped mid-gesture. "Do you understand? He was never following us up there in the forest? Alba lied. I don't know why, but she did."

"Then who was following us?"

Deera shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Eli and the rest, or maybe just our imagination."

"That's impossible."

Deera waved at the boat. "Then how do you explain this? It's been built fairly recently. I believe he's telling the truth."

"I don't know, Deera."

"Look—just talk to him. If you think he's lying, so what? He's still helping us build this."

Corlu felt a wave of tiredness wash over her. Her shoulders slumped.

Deera must have sensed her resignation. "So, you'll go meet him tomorrow?"

"Meet him! I don't know, Deera."

She sighed. But the boat's the most important thing, even if it is a Clacamash boat!" She smoothed a hand along the wood platform. Then another thought hit her. "And how are you talking with him? How's he speaking our language?"

"Oh," said Deera with an attempt at lightness. She shrugged. "I've been teaching him, but it's not that different from ours."
Chapter Eighteen

The smell of rotting seaweed hung over the island like fetid marsh mist. It was another hot day with very little wind. Corlu could feel the sweat dripping down her back as she waited behind a gorse bush with Deera. The sun was barely at its apex.

"Go!" hissed Deera, watching Jessal, one of the older boys, meander down the trail. "She won't be back for awhile."

Corlu ran across to the hut hunched over, but with a long stride. Luckily the wall of the hut with the hole was partially in the shade. She stopped for a minute and caught her breath. Inside she could hear someone moving. Her stomach plummeted. What was she doing?

Suddenly a deep voice growled out from the hole. "Is somebody there?"

Corlu made a noise as if to speak.

"Is somebody there? I am Carran."

Corlu swallowed hard and tried again, reminding herself that he was locked up inside and she was free on the outside. He couldn't hurt her.

"It's Corlu" she croaked, reluctant to put her mouth to the hole. There was silence for a moment, and Corlu wondered whether he had heard her. Then came the growl again.

"A friend of Deera?"

"Yes. Yes, Deera's friend."

Again came the silence. Corlu's mind worked frantically. What had she wanted to ask him?

"The boat. You see?"

"Yes," she nodded as if he could see her. "I saw the boat. You say you'll help us. Why?" She risked a look through the hole.

Enough sunlight filtered down through the roughly lashed reeds of the roof for Corlu to get a look at him. He was tall and broad like the Clacamash she had seen at the Culling, with long thick hair and muscled arms and legs. Hatred gripped her stomach for a moment.

Then he noticed her and came closer. She instinctively stepped back. His face was a mess of bruises. An open wound festered down one side of his temple. The skin around it was puffy and shiny with signs of infection. In his eyes was a look of despair so deep it made her turn away.

"Free!" he whispered.

The word stilled Corlu with its power. She forced herself to look up and meet his eye. She swallowed, not knowing how to answer that plea. "Deera said you sailed here, in your boat?"

He nodded. "Yes. To Kytheland."

Corlu leaned forward. The pronunciation was slightly different, but he had said it. She was sure of it.

"The Kytheland? What do you know of the Kytheland?"

"Where we come from. Long ago."

"What?" gasped Corlu. "But that is what our people say."

Carran shrugged. "It is a story. True? I don't know."

"We think it's here," said Corlu caught up in excitement. "That this is the Kytheland."

Carran shrugged again and looked noncommittal.

Suddenly, he moved towards the other corner of the hut and listened closely. He turned towards her. "Go!" he whispered. "Go!"

Then Corlu heard it too. Alba's voice rang out through the morning air. She was coming this way.

Deera appeared around the corner, frantically beckoning, and without a look backwards, Corlu made a run for the bushes.

There they waited, dripping with sweat, trying to stifle their ragged breathing. But Alba was too busy this morning to pay attention to Jessal's absence. She passed on, barking orders to a small group of boys. Corlu drew in a deep breath and stood up.

"She's gone."

Deera looked around carefully and then leaned in to whisper. "What did he say? Do you believe me now?"

"I don't know, Deera!" hissed Corlu. "I barely got a chance to talk with him."

"Still, can't you see how badly he's been treated?"

Corlu shook her head in irritation, not convinced. "He did say something strange. He thought this was the Kytheland. He said the very word."

"He's never spoken of it," said Deera thoughtfully. "But it makes some sort of sense."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. We can talk about it later." Deera stood up and looked around again. "Today we need to work on the boat. We're on trench duty, so it'll be easy. I have some questions for Carran, but you can go now and start finding some thinner pieces of wood to hold the cloth. It's better that we're not seen together."

Corlu nodded.

"Lian's going to meet us in the afternoon." Deera added.

"He knows?"

"I told him early this morning."

"And Lian trusts what he's saying?" Corlu made a gesture back at the hut.

"Lian just wants off this island as quickly as possible," replied Deera. "We aren't as impressed by Alba's way of running a village as you and Shiall are." Her tone was calm, but it was the first time Corlu had ever heard bitterness creeping into her voice.

"And Shiall?"

"Shiall doesn't need to know yet. It'll put her in an awkward position; she'll feel torn."

Corlu snorted. "And what about me? What about my awkward position? Shiall's going to know I'm keeping something from her."

"She hasn't noticed that I am!" snapped Deera with that hint of bitterness again. "She's throwing herself into the defense of the island." She sighed. "Just trust me. When it's built, Shiall won't have any choice. It's just easier this way."

"I'll think about it," grumbled Corlu. "She's going to be furious!"

"So let her be furious as we sail away from here." Deera moved towards the hut. "Go on! I'll catch you up.
Chapter Nineteen

The boat lay where they had left it last night, far up on the mud bank. It was protected from the full force of the off sea breezes by a clump of prickly gorse bushes. In the hazy morning sunlight, Corlu was able to get a much better sense of it. It was large, much larger than the brachen, and she gathered that one rode high above the waves on the platform. Then there was the wooden pole or mast, as Deera had called it. This was where the cloth would go.

Corlu held her arm up in the wind, trying to imagine how the boat would move. She knew the wind could push the brachen across the waves as if one was riding on the back of a large sea creature. Would it happen this way in the strange craft? Would they be pushed too far out to sea? Would they fall off the end of the platform? How did one steer?

\- - -

Within a day or two Corlu had all the answers to her questions and was as knowledgeable as Deera when it came to building the boat. They worked whenever they could—during duties they could easily slip away from, after dark, and early in the morning. The boat steadily began to take shape.

By the end of the third day, all that was left was the rudder, a device that Carran had explained in detail to Deera, but which Corlu had instantly grasped. She was eager to begin work on the last piece. Tightening the last of the lashings around the logs that made up the platform, she stepped back to admire their work.

"I think we should be getting back soon," said Lian, breaking the companionable silence in which they had been working. He was threading together a sail from their clothes. "I lost Fram on the way here, but he knows something's happening. I wouldn't put it past him to spend his every waking moment following us until he finds out."

"I know," said Corlu, grimacing. "I lost Eli at the storage hut, but sooner or later one of them is going to stumble onto this."

"It's just too big now to cover up," said Deera halfheartedly throwing some seaweed around the hull.

Corlu moved to help her. "We have to leave tomorrow night or the next. It's getting too dangerous. I keep feeling that Alba's going to have us all captured and put in the hut."

"That means we have to tell Shiall," said Lian, looking at Deera.

"And figure out how you're getting him out of that hut," Corlu interjected.

Deera looked at her, surprise and then worry chasing their way across her features.

"What?" said Corlu in a mildly belligerent tone. "Look, I'm not an idiot. I realized when you explained things that he was going to have to come with us."

She watched as Deera breathed out her relief.

"I'm not saying that I like it, and we need to talk seriously about how we're going to guard him, but . . ." She shrugged. "Someone needs to steer out there. We can't do it alone."

"And we owe him," said Deera quietly. "I gave my word."

Corlu simply gave her a look, half warning, half exasperation. She didn't like the turn events had taken, but she was following another's lead now. She had misjudged Alba and forgotten the reasons for their coming south in the first place. In her mind's eye Mari stared at her with hurt and betrayal in her eyes. The thought that she could already be taken drove Corlu on. Nothing mattered but building the boat and getting back to the village.

Strangely enough, this seemed as if it was going to be less difficult than she had once thought. While it was true that all three of them were being watched and sometimes clumsily followed, a strange malaise had fallen on the camp, making it easier to get away to the small beach where the boat lay hidden.

Alba was spending more and more time in her hut with Leela and was only seen a few times a day, striding angrily around the island. The children had sensed the lapse in tight control. They were openly deceiving Alba now, lolling around in the mud, half asleep and then jumping hurriedly to their tasks when word came round that she had emerged from the hut. Even then, there was a slowness to their movements, as if the hot late summer weather had baked all the life out of them.

"Let's just get this finished," was Deera's odd reply when Corlu brought this up that night as they worked on the boat. She had mentioned it simply in passing, but the look on Deera's face, as if she was chewing on something disagreeable, suddenly made the matter seem more significant. Deera, she guessed, knew more than she was telling.

Corlu resolved to bring the subject up later with Lian, and returned to her work shaping the piece of wood that was to become the rudder. Carran had insisted that the lines had to be just right or the boat wouldn't steer, but since the instructions were coming second-hand from Deera from someone who barely shared their language, it was hard to know if it was even the right length.

As she bent her face to the wood and smoothed out the shavings raised by her knife, she heard a crack in the bushes behind her. All three of them froze, caught mid-action in the bright moonlight. A couple more cracks followed, and then a figure appeared at the top of the bank.

Lian moved swiftly, bringing the figure down and stifling the yells with a hand over the mouth. There was a further struggle, and then Corlu jumped in, grabbing at the flailing arms.

"Let me go!"

"Shiall," gasped Lian.

"Get off me! You're hurting my leg."

Corlu peered forward. "What are you doing here?"

Shiall groaned. "My leg!"

"Sorry," said Corlu, sitting back. "But—"

"What is this?" interrupted Shiall, looking around and catching sight of Deera. "Deera, what's going on?'

Deera silently extended a hand. Shiall took it and stumbled to her feet.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing out in the middle of the . . . What's that?" Shiall hobbled over to the boat. She gasped. "Where did you find this?"

"Shiall, Deera was going--" Corlu started when Shiall rounded on them.

"You've been keeping this secret from me, haven't you? When were you planning to tell me? Or were you just planning on leaving without me!"

"Keep your voice down!" The command from Deera was sharp and unexpected. "Do you want everyone to hear and come running? This is our escape, Shiall. We're leaving, and you're leaving with us. How you could even think--"

"Then why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Alba know? Did she give permission to go?" Shiall turned to Corlu as if she expected answers from her at least. Corlu looked down at the sand and ran her hand through her hair, at a loss for words.

Deera stepped forward. "I didn't tell you earlier, Shiall, for exactly those reasons. Of course, Alba doesn't know, and of course she wouldn't give her permission if we told her, and so, of course, we're not telling her."

"But—"

"And. I didn't tell you because you think there is still a way to make this plan of Alba's work. You'd want to argue about it and—"

"Well, what's wrong with that? I thought that's how things worked amongst us?" She looked around at Corlu and Lian belligerently.

"Not this time, Shiall. We're past argument and discussion. I tried that weeks ago, and you wouldn't listen, so I remained silent. But when this chance came along, I took it. I took it because we'll be killed, if we stay any longer."

Shiall made a scoffing noise. "You don't believe that do you? Really? I talked to Alba about what she did to you. She admitted she was too rough, but do you really think I'd let you stay anywhere that wasn't safe?"

When Deera made no answer, Shiall reached out for her hand. "Deera? Haven't I always protected you? How do you think I felt when I saw you in that hut? It almost drove me out of my mind! But this is the safest place for us. We can defend ourselves here."

She looked around at the others, searching for support.

Lian shook his head.

"No," said Corlu. "That's not true."

"What? I thought you at least would—-"

"I don't think Alba will ever let us go, and I need to get back now!"

"I know, I know," said Shiall patiently. "We all do, but we can stay a little longer and help out here. A few days aren't going to make a difference."

"Yes it is!" Lian exploded. "Don't you see? Even Corlu has stopped trusting her. She'll have no problem killing us if we get in her way."

"No" said Shiall shaking her head. "That's not true."

"Yes, " said Corlu firmly. "You've got to see that now. Even if we stay, Alba's already suspicious of us. Sooner or later she'll strike."

"No. That's—"

Deera moved forward and grabbed the hand that had been offered a few moments earlier. "Shiall, listen. Besides me, she trusts you least of all. She knows deep down that she can't count on unconditional loyalty from you after what happened with me. She's just keeping you close, so she can keep an eye on you."

"No," said Shiall again, but she sounded less sure of herself.

"Fine," said Corlu. "But even if Alba doesn't want us dead, Leela does. This you must know as true."

Shiall said nothing, but sat down heavily on one of the boats long poles that ran out from under the platform. The others waited for her to speak.

Finally, she looked up and gave Deera and small smile.

Sighing with relief, Deera threw her arm around her, and the two walked back up the path.

"Well, at least it's all out in the open now," said Lian cheerfully, as he rearranged some branches to cover the boat.

"She never agreed," Corlu said sharply. "Doesn't that worry you?"

"What do you mean? Of course she's agreed." Lian raked a hand through his hair. It was dull now from dirt, falling in heavy waves from his forehead.

"No. She never agreed," insisted Corlu, hating the suspicions that were racing through her mind.

"You can't possibly think Shiall would betray us!"

"No," said Corlu, shaking her head angrily. "But, I just don't know anymore." She could feel the tears filling her eyes and turned away in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Lian was standing over her, an odd smile on his face. Then his arms were pulling her against him. Corlu's breath came fast. His face was so close. She was trembling, afraid even now to cross over the line, to admit that their friendship had changed.

"But, you have me, Corlu." Lian's voice was rough against her ear. "You do know that, don't you?"

"Yes," she murmured and then forced herself to look up.

His eyes were dark. She could not read them. Then, he smiled and slowly bent his head until his lips met hers, softly, gently, and then more insistently, as if he had waited too long to do this, as if he feared someone would pull them apart.

The sound of surf was heavy in Corlu's ears. Lian's hands held her. She let go and lost herself her in the kiss, pulling him closer, shutting out the darkness, the worry and the fear.

A wave crashed close to their feet, breaking the spell, and Corlu pulled away, suddenly self-conscious, but Lian's arms held her tight. She relaxed against his chest, but kept her face averted, not wanting to meet his eyes. It was all so strange. This was Lian, her childhood friend, the boy who for the last year had irritated her more than anyone else in the village with his know-it-all comments and arrogant behavior. His face, his way of walking, the faint spattering of freckles along his forearms were so familiar to her, and yet much-- the strength in his hands, the way he towered over her, the way his lips had demanded hers as if he knew more than she did—was new. It frightened her a little.

Corlu felt his lips on her hair, and then his hands smoothing back the strands that fell over her face. "So, you finally let me kiss you," he said, laughter in his voice. It was the old Lian. "You've dragged me half way round the world, but at last I got my kiss."

"You don't have to sound so smug about it," said Corlu with a grin.

"But I do. I've waited a long time for this."

"You have?" asked Corlu. The moonlight set Lian's face into a series of hard planes, but his smile was soft.

"You're good at a lot of things, Corlu, but you don't notice much." He held her face with one hand and said with a mock serious expression. "But I forgive you."

Corlu pushed against his chest, but he simply pulled her tighter.

"We'll get off this island, Corlu. You and I will go home."

Corlu raised her head, and, in that moment, all doubt fell away.

\---

The noise of children chattering outside the hut woke Corlu early the next morning. She stretched, feeling gritty and slow. It had been a long time since she had washed in clean water, and the lack of sleep was making her feel slightly nauseous. Then she remembered last night and looked over at Lian. He seemed as tired as she was, the skin under his eyes was shadowed violet grey, but the look he gave her made her forget every ache in her body. She broke the gaze, hoping her reddened cheeks didn't show.

"What's happening out there?" said Shiall from her corner.

Corlu pushed aside the ragged bit of cloth in the doorway. Children were emerging from their huts and making their way to the fire circle. They appeared oddly excited. Spotting Eli, she called to her. The girl came over to the hut and squatted down. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face gaunt. It was not the face of a child.

"Are you well?" asked Corlu.

Eli nodded and smothered a yawn.

"What's happening? "

"Alba called a meeting. We're all supposed to meet near the meal shelter."

Shiall joined Corlu. "Now?'

"That's what she said," answered Eli getting slowly to her feet. "You'd better hurry."

The open area by the fire was crowded. Some of the children milled around in ever-changing small groups, whispering with a hushed frenetic energy; others sat in the dust, waiting lethargically.

After a few moments, Leela emerged from one side of the crowd. Alba followed her, giving orders as she made her way through the mass of bodies, but her movements were slow, her shoulders slumped.

Once up front, she raised her hand for silence, but strangely it was Leela who spoke, her voice shrill in the morning air. "I've come to talk with you about the obstacles we are facing. There is a sickness in the settlement," she called out causing a buzz of conversation from the crowd. "Yes, a sickness. At least one of us is weakening. There is also the food supply. Food is scarce."

Many in the crowd nodded in agreement.

"And in a matter of days we must face our enemy."

"We can't fight on empty stomachs!" called out a boy from the back.

"Coward!" shouted Fram, moving forward as if would hit the boy. "It's pigs like you that are weakening our village."

"Liar!" the boy shouted, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Quiet!" called out Alba. She gestured at Eli, "Stop those two."

Leela waited until Eli and another girl had separated the two boys. "Fram is right that we must show no weakness, but there is a way to give us all the food we need and to appease the forces that decide our fate—to get rid of the sickness and to ensure our victory in the coming days."

"What is she talking about now?" muttered Lian.

"Yes," cried Leela, her voice trembling with suppressed excitement. "We must make a sacrifice!"

An audible gasp arose from the crowd followed by a loud babbling of voices.

"Trouble," said Deera, shaking her head. Her face was pale and her eyes darted from side to side. Corlu felt dread rising from her bowels. She knew what was about to happen.

"Bring the basket!' ordered Leela.

One of the boys came forward, carrying one of the reed baskets used to store beans and roots. Its top was closed and latched. Leela undid the ties and reached inside. Her arm came up, holding a young bird by its feet—a Liathen with a blue and yellow crest. Its wings fluttered, struggling against the tight hold.

Corlu bit down on her thumb, seeing the ending of this strange ritual as clearly as if she had watched it happen every day of her life.

The crowd fell silent.

"When we survived the camps and discovered this new land, we threw away the old ways of the villages, those superstitious old fashioned ideas that made cowards of our elders" cried Leela. "Now it's time to finish with the last vestiges of that life."

The crowd cheered.

"To be strong," continued Leela, her voice taking on a hypnotic tone. "To live, we must take the lives of others. We must take the lives of others, so that we can live!" The crowd erupted in a wild violence.

The bird fluttered wildly and let out a desperate cry. Even from where she stood, Corlu could make out its fear, its hopeless terror.

She moved forward, crying out, and then Leela raised her other hand. Silver flashed against the hot grey sky. Children screamed and hooted all around her, their jeering faces full of wild pleasure. The boy who had brought the basket now held the large pot used for soup under the jerking body of the bird, as blood poured down. The bird still struggled for life even as it convulsed in its last death throes.

Leela motioned a child forward, and the girl lifted the pot to her lips, blood staining her lips. She gestured to the girl to take the bird and to pass the pot to the boy beside her. Then another basket was brought forth, a bird lifted and killed, and the crowd erupted in madness. Corlu watched as a boy tore at the body of the bird, greed flattening his eyes, and then the crowd pushing forward to drink the blood obscured her sight.

Lian had turned away. Deera looked sick, and even Shiall's face was stony. Corlu followed Lian as he pushed his way out of the crowd. The children took no notice. They were focused on Leela, who had called them forward one by one to partake of the blood and the flesh of the tens of creatures that had been sacrificed.
Chapter Twenty

It was late afternoon. Corlu walked amongst the huts, trying to stop her ears against the cries and moans. She could hear a little girl, sobbing for her mother over and over again, pleading, begging, screaming. It was like walking through a nightmare: the stench, the heat, the children laying half in and out of the huts, blood and vomit spattering their faces and clothes.

Almost half of the children were violently ill, knocked down by a sickness that had come with the suddenness of a summer thunderstorm. Those not affected were raiding the storage hut or lazing apathetically around smoldering campfires. They watched Corlu as she walked down the trail to the prisoner's hut with eyes full of lethargic indifference.

Corlu and the others were overwhelmed. Out of the entire group only Alba and Eli were helping them with the sick. Those not ill seemed not to care, remaining deaf to the whimpering and pleas of their friends and siblings.

Deera had gone to work immediately, mixing the Sylvara root Ana had given them into a thick paste and parceling it out to each of them so they could dose as many of the sick as possible. Under cover of the preparations, Deera had whispered to Corlu that she had to leave and speak with Carran. Corlu had resisted at first, but Deera had insisted. "Tell him we're leaving tonight."

Alba's presence had made further conversation impossible, and so Corlu had snuck off, dizzy from lack of sleep.

When Corlu came up to the prisoner's hut, she fought the feeling of relief that welled up from inside. To be away from the huts, the oozing sores, and to breath fresh air. Feeling guilty she hurried to her task.

The smell from the hut was filthy, but somehow healthier than that which hung over the rest of the settlement. Corlu steeled herself against the fear that surged up, and knocked against the hut with her knuckles.

"Are you there? Hello?"

She paused as a shuffling announced that Carran was making his wake to the knothole. The eye appeared.

"Corlu?"

Through the gloom Corlu caught a glimpse of Carran's head. His wound looked as though it had been cleaned and was healing, but, for some reason, he seemed worse. He resolutely stared at the ground, his matted hair covering his face. He looked like he had resigned himself to death.

Corlu swallowed. "Deera wanted me to tell you that we leave tonight. That we'll come tonight at moonrise."

"Tonight? She is coming?" Carran looked up quickly, startling Corlu and causing her to move back an inch. His blue eyes were bloodshot, but there was a gleam there now, a spark, as if she had restored his hope.

"You're afraid of me," he whispered.

Corlu swallowed again and shook her head.

"Don't fear me. I can do you no harm." Grimacing as if at a grotesque joke, he picked up his wrist and showed her the bloody coils of rope wound tightly, tethering him to the hut.

"I'm not afraid," said Corlu loudly as if trying to convince herself.

"I didn't want to hope," he muttered. "But, Deera . . ."

They stared at each other for a moment as if sharing the same thought.

"Yes," said Corlu finally. "Deera keeps her promises. She always keeps her promises."

"We honor this in my village," said Carran.

The words angered Corlu. She didn't want to hear about his kind; she didn't want to know. She had to release him tonight and trust him to sail them home, and the less she knew the better.

"You hate us," said Carran quietly. "I understand why."

"You understand nothing!" spat Corlu, and then felt ashamed. To cover her anger, she threw out the first question that came to mind: "How do you speak our language? You've learned much in a few days."

"Our languages are sisters. They're not so different from each other—-some different words, different ways of saying. My father says that we were once the same tribe."

Corlu's thoughts faltered. This couldn't be true? Then she noticed that Carran's face, full of grief and sadness.

"Your father?" probed Corlu gently.

"My father is dead." The voice was devoid of emotion.

"Deera said he was killed. They were killed by—"

"Yes. Another tribe killed them all. We would not fight for them any longer."

"Are there many like you and your family?" asked Corlu.

Carran shrugged. "Some."

"My mother and father were taken," she said.

His eyes caught hers in an exchange of understanding. "Yes. Deera told me of this. I'm sorry. I don't know where they take the prisoners. Far from the place my family lives." He faltered. Lived. The word hung heavy between them.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of running footsteps, the wild cracking of dry gorse bushes "Let him out now!"

Corlu spun around. The call came from Deera as she raced down the path. "Corlu, use your knife."

Deera slammed down beside Corlu. "Cut him free!"

"What?" Corlu was thrown off guard.

"Do it!" yelled Deera. "Just do it! They're right behind me."

Corlu drew her knife and then hesitated, the image of Carran knocking Deera to the ground and pushing the boat out into the water filling her mind.

"Corlu. There's no time!"

Still she hesitated. How could they trust him?

"Do it!"

In one swift movement of her arm, Corlu cut through the rope holding the hut's small door against the structure. It fell to one side and sunlight filled the hut. Carran crouched against the wall. His legs and arms were tied tightly. As she raised her arm to cut through the ropes, she heard Deera cry out from behind her, and then her arm was caught, the knife twisted out of her grasp. She turned and faced the mob that surrounded her.

Fram was in front, grinning. He held the knife, taunting her, and then stepped back. "Bring the prisoner."

Two boys grabbed Carran and pushed him to the front of the crowd. He fell heavily.

"Get up!" screamed Fram, kicking Carran in the stomach. "Get up!"

Corlu heard the air leave Carran's lungs but he did not cry out, simply rolling over to sit up. He fixed Fram with a defiant look. "I said get up!" Fram yelled, kicking him again.

"Stop it!" screamed Deera. The crowd held her back.

"He can't walk with his legs tied," Corlu cried, shaking off a girl who had rather weakly attempted to take hold of her.

Fram stared back at her, his eyes full of malevolent hate, but he cut the ropes. As Carran got slowly to his knees, Fram shoved him violently from behind. The children hooted and jeered. Carran fell heavily, but again rose, wiping the dirt from his face.

"Move it, you animal!" Fram's voice was high-pitched and shrill.

The crowd moved forward along the path. Corlu felt the young girl jostle her from behind. She stopped and glared down at her. The children gave her room, but she was still forced to move on. A prisoner.

She heard the shouting before she rounded the last corner. The rest of the children who were not yet ill or dying stood in groups outside the huts. Alba and Leela were arguing. Alba looked sick and exhausted, but Leela moved frenetically. Only the strange pallor of her skin and the unearthly gleam in her reddened eyes betrayed how ill she really was.

"Here's the other two!" screamed a voice.

Lian and Shiall were standing by a hut as if they had just emerged from helping one of the sick children. Shiall still held the bowl of Sylvara paste. The crowd shoved Carran and Deera over to their side and then stood back.

"You too?" Alba said grimly, turning towards Corlu. The flat tenor of her voice made Corlu feel sick. "You have betrayed us all. You have betrayed us with the prisoner. Now you must meet your punishment."

"Kill them!" called a girl at the front of the group. There was a horrible outcry of laughter at this, ending in a splutter of coughing.

"Let me do it!" hooted Fram. More laughter.

Alba's face remained impassive. Eli stood by her side, looking frightened and confused. She appeared to be awaiting Alba's order.

"We've done nothing to hurt you!" called Lian, stepping forward. "Let us leave in peace."

"You lie," stated Alba. "You've lied from the start."

"That's not true," Corlu shouted. "You know that's not true. We're here to help you."

"Is that so?" said Alba, a hint of anger growing in that controlled voice. "Deera has been seen repeatedly speaking with the prisoner. You seek to make deals with the Clacamash to gain safe passage for your own cowardly skins." She spat. The crowd moved angrily.

"It's time," cried Leela, raising her arms to gain the mob's attention. "It's time for the sacrifice!"

"Leela, wait," said Alba impatiently.

"No, Alba," Leela cried. "I demand my sacrifice. It is the only way. He must die!"

Corlu heard Lian swear behind her. She looked over at Carran and saw the desperate terror in his eyes. He knew.

For a brief moment, she thought that Alba would take control of the situation, end this madness, but with a simple shrug, she stepped back, nodding to Leela.

"Bring him to me!" Leela shouted with joy, raising her knife above her head.

The crowd exploded in wild jubilation, all thoughts of punishing Corlu and the others forgotten in their greed for a blood sacrifice, for the taste of flesh. Fram licked his lips and pointed at Carran.

"To live, we must take the lives of others," cried Leela. "We must take the lives of others, so that we can live! We must take the lives of others into ourselves!"

The crowd screamed and moaned, moving forward to grab Carran and bring him forward.

"No," cried Corlu hopelessly, knowing in an instant that nothing she could say would convince them. "Alba, please . . ."

At the word, Alba stiffened. Her face grew stony and implacable. The face of judgment. "Take them all!"

From the mob came yells of approval. They moved forward and then stopped for a moment as if deciding whom to capture first. Lian picked up a stick and then threw one to Corlu. Shiall held a rock in her right hand. She had instinctively moved to cover Deera and Carran.

A loud hooting from the crowd focused Corlu's attention. Two boys made a grab for Lian. He slashed down with his stick and the boys jumped back. Shiall and Corlu moved to his aid, but the boys were eyeing the stick with fear. They knew that it would not be easy to overcome Lian. Still, the group inched closer.

"Fram, Piera! Take them," ordered Alba. "Do I have to do everything myself? You too Sinn."

Fram moved forward with two others. Corlu struck one of their sticks in a sideways swipe that sent it flying. She turned to protect Shiall as the other boy moved in. Fram and Lian were engaged for a moment in a furious fight. The thwack of wood against wood filled the morning air. Fram tried to parry Lian's swings. He was being pushed backwards toward the crowd.

Suddenly he fell back, panting. He shoved the stick in the ground and, like an old man, rested his body against it as he glared over them. The other two also seemed winded, their movements slow and lethargic. Were they all getting sick, wondered Corlu? Hope fluttered in her stomach.

From behind her she could hear Deera frantically sawing at the rope binding Carran's wrists. She stared across at the mob. Shiall juggled the stone between her hands as if daring them to come closer. Seeing the movement, Jessal leaned down and picked up a stone. A couple of the others followed her lead.

Corlu moved back, her heels catching on the rough wood of the hut behind her. The crowd murmured, sensing weakness like a pack of wild animals. Several more of the children picked up rocks, unconsciously mimicking Shiall's gestures.

Then came a cry. Behind Alba, Leela was crawling across the mud, her body jerking in strange movements.

"Leela!" In an instant Alba was at her side, pulling her towards her. "Leela!" she screamed. The raw terror of the cry cut through the air, leaving a silence in its wake.

Now all that could be heard was the strange choking noises and Alba's frantic cries. "Leela! What's wrong? What's wrong?"

In one violent jerk Leela convulsed against Alba. Corlu caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were filled with hate, a hatred born of the knowledge that death was coming.

Corlu made a step forward as if she would go to Alba, but Shiall pulled her back.

"Go" cried Lian. "Now!"

He grabbed Corlu's other arm and they pulled her backwards round the hut. Then she was running, running with her life in her hands, step high, sailing over troughs and mounds. From behind came a shower of rocks and the shrill cries of grief.

Shiall was down, her hip bruised by a rock. Corlu raced backwards, but Lian and Carran were there, helping her to her feet, and then they were all running again. Past the storage hut, past the clearing where Corlu had practiced her archery, past the trenches, their ditches brimming with filth. There was the side path to the beach. They raced out onto the wet mud.

Deera and Carran held the boat in the water in the shallows. It twisted in the current, as if eager to be off. From Carran's wrist hung pieces of slashed rope.

Shiall skidded to a halt, but her momentum took her into the water, slamming her up against Deera. Lian and Corlu splashed through the shallows.

"Get on!" screamed Deera. Shiall threw herself up on the platform. Then Lian clambered up.

The boat was now twisting and turning violently in the current. Deera and Carran were having a hard time holding it close to the shore. They were all up to their waist now, the water knocking them of their feet and crashing into their faces.

"Corlu, get on!" cried Lian, leaning down for her and trying to grab her arm in the swirling salt water.

Corlu reached for the boat and forced her aching muscles to pull herself upwards. A cry came from behind. She twisted her neck as she threw herself up on the platform, bruising her stomach, grazing her legs.

Saspan stood at the water's edge, in her hands the bow all of them carried when guarding the island's shores.

"Stop! Stop!" The childish voice cried out over the waves.

"Go!" screamed Deera. "She won't shoot!"

"Yes I will!" shouted Saspan, spinning to aim at Deera. Then suddenly changing direction to face Carran, and then back again.

"I'm warning you!" she yelled. Her voice was thin and reedy.

Deera jumped for the platform. The arrow flew through the air, but fell wide of the boat.

"Saspan! No!" cried Corlu from the boat. For a moment the girl's eye met hers. She smiled at Corlu. And then as Carran jumped for the boat with one last push, Saspan's eyes went blank. She aimed, and then something slammed Corlu back down against the wood. The force took her breath away.

The boat jumped into the current and raced to meet the breakers. Carran and Deera fought the sail, the boom swinging wildly. Spray slapped up against the sides and was sent spinning over the platform. The boat tilted violently. Corlu clutched the slats of wood. Pain screamed up her leg and into her buttocks.

"Corlu!" Lian was pulling her closer into the middle of the platform, safe from the waves. She looked upwards. His eyes were full of horror, and he was staring at her leg. The pain jolted through her body again and she slid down the wet wood, her fingers clawing at the grooves between the poles. Through the haze of pain she could feel the waves smashing against her ankles. Then arms were pulling her. Next, she heard a voice yell at Lian. "Do it! Just do it"

No! cried Corlu. Saspan was a child. She didn't understand. Was one of them dead? It didn't matter. Why kill Saspan now? Don't kill her. Let her go. Let her go.

She felt fingers on her thigh, a soft touch and searing pain. She fell into darkness and then blankness.
Chapter Twenty-One

The boat rocked back and forth, gently moving Corlu's head one way and then the other. The movement threatened to send her back into unconsciousness, but slowly she awoke. Waves sparkling on one side; a blur of brown on the other. The waves hurt her eyes, so she focused on the brown patch. Still, she felt slightly ill.

The rocking became more noticeable, and nausea spiraled up from the depths of her stomach, grabbing her throat in its clutches.

The hot bile, spilled down her cheek. She was choking on her own vomit. She panicked, and then the brown patch stirred and blurred into Lian's face. There were hands wiping her face clean; water touching her parched lips. She coughed and tried to sit up.

"Corlu" said Lian.

The sun dazzled her. Then there was Shiall's face.

"You're alive. You're alive." The words were half question, half statement. Shiall's face was surprisingly streaked with tears.

Corlu smiled. It was easy. It didn't hurt.

"Give her some air," cried a voice from behind her head. "Corlu, are you ready for some food?" The voice was calm, less emotional than the others. Corlu smiled up at the direction from which it came. A paste touched her lips. She swallowed its bitterness and then choked. Water came next.

"Sorry. But medicine first. Food last."

Corlu nodded. She understood.

Something rough touched her lips. She could smell it. Adjuni bean cake, dried and stale. She moved her mouth and the flavor swirled inward. She swallowed and then grasped for more. Slowly she was fed. Then the pain came again, taking her with it head over heels into darkness.

\- - -

The boom was creaking above her. Her head lay in Deera's lap. She was wet, but warm. Tunics covered her torso; late afternoon light warmed her face and toes. She turned her head. Lian looked down on her smiling; against his back was the blue of the waves and a distant shore. She looked the other way. Shiall was outlined in sparking drops of light. Her face moved closer and she smiled. "We're sailing home, Corlu."

The rocking of the boat played with her stomach again, but slowly the nausea disappeared. She felt light and warm. Her lids closed once and then again, shadows moving against the bright red. She murmured and fell into sleep,

\- - -

When she awoke next, her face was cold. It was darker, but moonlight spilled from above, illuminating the boat with its silvered beams. Despite the cold, the wind was low. She tried to sit up, but pain seared down her leg.

Shiall was etched against the starry sky, sitting forward eyes intent on the back of the boat. Beside her, Deera slept. A hand moved against Corlu's cheek. She was lying warm in Lian's arms, but he'd had fallen sideways in his sleep. Past her head, Corlu made out the dark shape of Carran. He sat at the tiller, eyes staring off into the distance, wrist moving slowly as he picked up the ocean's movements from the rudder below. He seemed unaware of Shiall's fierce gaze.

Corlu watched him until her neck ached, and then she stared up at the stars. There was the Archer, her bow ever at the ready; the Three Brothers in their eternal dance; and the Bear Maiden shining brightest of all. The constellations spun around her in a fiery glow, but still she smiled. She was looking at the same waypoints as her sister, as her grandfather, as Ana. She was going home.

Her thoughts wandered, but she realized she was still awake. Again and again the constellations flashed into view. Then she heard the music. Carran was singing, a deep throated noise that made her think of the tall kelp forests swaying in their underwater world of light and gloom.

There were islands hidden in the mist, just out of sight. If she could reach them she would be free. She surged through the dark water, willing herself onwards. A wave rose up behind her and she went spiraling into the dark, light spinning around her as she reached for a star. Just once, she pleaded. Just one, and then I'll be free.
Chapter Twenty-Two

Waving patterns of dark and light played against her eyelids. Corlu lay still for a moment, listening to the faint sound of leaves rustling, feeling the warmth from the sun. Opening her eyes, she blinked once and then again, bringing the world into focus.

She was in bed, facing a window. Outside, she could see the young trees that grew outside her grandfather's house. Their leaves were softly turning in the breeze. Singing came from down by the water--a group of younger children learning their daily lessons.

Slowly, she moved her head to look to the other side. She was stiff and her head felt heavy, but it was worth the effort. Sitting by her bed and smiling at her was Ana. She turned and beckoned to someone behind her. Corlu squinted and there was her grandfather, his face lined and creased.

Corlu tried to speak, but all that came out was a weird series of croaks.

"Hush," her grandfather crooned, laying his cool, dry hand against her forehead.

"You're home, Corlu."

Corlu tried again to speak, and Ana moved forward pressing a cup of water against her lips. She hadn't known she was thirsty, but the water slid gently down her throat, easing the ache.

"I think you're ready for some broth," said Ana, getting up.

Corlu tried to move her hand to stop her from leaving, but it was tucked in tight beneath the blankets. She was as weak as a newborn, but was filled with a sensation of lightness and tranquility.

"Don't worry, Corlu. I'm just going to the fire. I'll be back."

Corlu turned and looked up at her grandfather. He stroked her hair from her face and then held her hand.

"Mari?" She finally croaked out.

"She'll be here soon. I sent her out to play this afternoon. I think she'd grown tired of waiting for you to wake up."

Corlu's thoughts stumbled. Her mind was working slowly. She remembered the boat. And then she remembered her friends. She struggled to speak again.  
"They're safe, Corlu," said her grandfather, as if guessing her thoughts. "Deera, Shiall, Lian—they are all well."

She leaned back against the pillow. They were safe. She could rest for a little while longer.

Ana came in with the broth and helped her sit up to drink. It tasted of the sea; it tasted of home. With each small sip of the salty liquid, she felt stronger.

She stared down at her arm. It was still brown from the sun, but thin and spindly. How long had she been ill? She remembered her leg and looked down at the blankets, moving slowly. No pain, but a soft ache like the rest of her body.

"You're leg is healing nicely," said Ana. "The arrow went deep, and your journey was rough on the wound, but there is no more infection. You won't be able to help with the building, but you should be able to sew sails. We need all the help we can get."

"Sails? What's happening?" Corlu tried to sit up.

Smiling, Ana held up her hand. "If you promise to remain quiet and sit back, I'll tell you everything, but your grandfather will chase me out of here, if I get you too excited."

Corlu lay back against the pallet, watching her grandfather tuck her in more tightly. Ana waited until he was done and had returned to his bench near the window. In the quiet, Corlu caught the sounds of the village: pots clattering, the slapping of the bridges against the water, children playing, and, close by, the twittering of birds in the trees.

"You've been sick for days," Ana began. "You arrived in the southern marsh nine . . . no, ten days ago. All weak from lack of water, but Lian and Shiall carried you up here."

Ana leaned forward. "The village has been rejoicing. They didn't think they would ever see any of you ever again. There have been no more Cullings, but that last one and your disappearance seemed to awaken the village. I've never seen anything like it. At the last council meeting, it was decided that a group would set out south to find you and look for a new place for the village. We've even been meeting with people from the other villages."

Then you came sailing out of the south!" Ana laughed. "Yes, I've seen the boat. What a wonder."

"Carran?" coughed Corlu.

Ana's smile faded. Her face changed, but Corlu could detect no hatred or fear, simply resignation.

"I've met Carran." She sighed. "The village isn't happy about him. They know he came with you, that it was his boat, but we have to keep him away from the village."

She shook her head and shrugged. "He's Clacamash to them. It doesn't matter what kind. Maybe if they could spend time working with him . . . perhaps . . . . I don't know. It was hard for me—and still hard--to drop the suspicions, to turn my back and think anew.

But anyway, it's not safe for him here. He's helping us build more boats and showing us how to sail them, but he must leave soon. I can't do much more."

They were quiet for a moment, each thinking their own thoughts. The old man got up and quietly left the room.

Ana turned her head, as he left. She picked up Corlu's hand. "Corlu, Carran took us back. We went back to the settlement. He is a good traveling companion."

"You went back?" gasped Corlu.

"You should sleep," Ana said soothingly. "I'll tell you all about it when you next wake."

"No! The children? What about the children?" Corlu did not want to rest. It was easier to speak; she felt stronger, and her thoughts were clear.

"You knew they had the Summer Wasting?"

Corlu nodded, remembering the children, retching as they lay, eyes staring blankly.

"You and Deera were right to use the sylvara root. You probably relieved many from the severest pain, but it's a serious illness."

"And?" croaked Corlu impatiently.

"There were only two children left when we arrived."

Corlu swallowed hard and then nodded for Ana to continues.

Ana rubbed her eyes. "They were barely alive—a girl and a boy. We knew the journey back might kill them, but the place was full of sickness. They're with Shean's family now."

"Who?" Before she could stop herself, Corlu thought of Saspan, lying safe next door. She would walk over when she was well, and the little girl would cry and beg her pardon, and then . . .

"A girl called Eli and a boy Fram. They're both quite wild, but I have hopes for the girl. The boy--I don't know."

Corlu closed her eyes. She thought of Leela's twisted, convulsive death, she thought of Alba slowly watching her village die and then catching the disease, her strong body lying in the dust, the bright blue eyes closed forever. She imagined how it must have been for the few children left to the last, how alone and frightened they must have been. And finally she thought of Saspan, sobbing incoherent words by the water's edge. Such a little girl to die such a horrible death. Why her and not Fram?

Pushing Ana gently aside, her grandfather came into the room and cradled Corlu in his arms until she was tight against his chest. She shook as she wept, and he held her tighter, allowing the cries to wrack through her body until she was left empty and weak. He smoothed her hair and crooned gently to her until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

\- - -

The next time she awoke, it was to someone whispering her name over and over again.

She awoke quickly and turned her head. There was a scream of joy and then she was engulfed in a pair of thin arms and a screen of tangled hair.

"Mari!"

"I've been waiting and waiting and waiting!" piped the little girl excitedly, hugging Corlu so tight she almost pulled them both off the pallet. Mari rocked her back and forth and then let her go only to slide onto the bedding beside her. Corlu winced.

"I've been waiting and waiting" she said again accusingly.

"Yes. You said," smiled Corlu, stroking her face as if to re-acquaint herself with the well-loved features. She kissed Mari's forehead. "Well, now I'm awake."

Mari stared up at her with adoration. "I ran so fast this morning when Grandfather said you were awake, but then you were asleep again. They said I could stay if I sat quietly. I stayed quiet, didn't I?"

Corlu nodded with a serious look on her face and then pulled her sister into another tight hug.

"I said I'd come back."

"I know. I told Tonn that, but he didn't believe me. He said the Clacamash had eaten you and Lian, but I told Grandfather and he said no. He said you would be back."

"Grandfather said that?" asked Corlu, wondering at her Grandfather's staunch belief in her and thinking of all the times matters could have gone differently and she would not have come home.

Mari nodded. "But now Tonn says he never said that you were eaten but that's just because Lian came home. Lian's told us everything—you sailed across the sea, you went across the Remains—everyone wants to talk to you. I helped keep them away when you were sleeping.'

"Thank you, Mari," said Corlu smiling over her head at her Grandfather who now entered with a tray of food.

"Is that clava cake?"

Her Grandfather set down the tray and handed her a small cake. "Shiall said it's what you missed the most, so Mari and I baked some this morning."

"It's wonderful," mumbled Corlu between bites. The honey-sweetness was a guarantee that she was truly safely home.

"Take the broth and some water also," advised her Grandfather. "You'll need your strength, if you're to see the visitors that are waiting outside on the step."

Corlu swallowed quickly and turned towards the door. "Tell them to come in. Please! I can eat and talk at the same time"

"And you always told me that was bad manners" came a voice from the doorway.

"Lian!" cried Mari.

"Can we come in too?" another voice said and there were Deera and Shiall leaning around the corner.

"Come in," said her Grandfather, getting up, "But just for a moment. Don't tire her out."

"We won't," said Deera, reaching down and hugging Corlu, only giving way to Shiall and then Lian. He stood looking at her for a moment, a smile playing at his lips, and then leaned down and kissed her. He held her in the embrace for a long time and then slowly let her go.

Mari sat at the bottom of the pallet, grinning. The rest said nothing, seemingly unsurprised, but Corlu's felt her face flood with color.

"Tell me everything slowly," she said to cover the awkwardness she felt. "Ana told me some, but I don't remember anything."

"You wouldn't," said Lian, holding her hand. "We thought we'd really lost you. Sometimes we could barely keep you on the boat, the waves were so rough."

"We sailed it in less than two days," said Shiall excitedly. "Two days! When it took us all that time walking. We've started building more for the whole village. It means everyone can go, just like we spoke of. Deera's going to teach us all."

Corlu looked over at Deera. "If I can get Carran to finish teaching me before he leaves," she said quietly.

"Come on," said Shiall. "Ana said you steered almost the whole way back."

Deera shrugged.

"You went back? With Ana?" Corlu asked, knowing she had to hear the story sometime.

Lian and Deera exchanged looks.

"We can talk about this another time," said Lian.

"No," said Corlu. "Ana already told me that only Fram and Eli survived, but I want to hear it from you."

Deera moved closer. "Carran, Ana, and some people from the Council sailed back six days ago," she explained. "It's more difficult going south; it takes longer, but we did it. I think the trip was easier because I knew more what to do to help Carran."

Deera continued with her story, but Corlu caught the quick searching look that Shiall gave her friend when Carran was mentioned.

"Rilde wanted to tie Carran to the tiller at first—can you imagine? He soon forgot that idea when we got out into open water."

"How did you find the place?" asked Corlu.

'It was easier than I thought going back. It was difficult finding our way back here."

"Every peninsula and inlet looks the same," joined in Lian.

Deera nodded, a new note of confidence in her voice. "Well, I knew it as soon as we saw the waterfall, and I knew what to expect." She swallowed and looked at Mari. "Mari, perhaps you could bring some more Clava cake for your sister."

When the little girl had raced out, she began again. "They were all dead, even the little ones. Fram and Eli were lying outside Alba's hut—I think they were fighting before they got too weak. We checked the others and then took Fram and Eli back to the boat."

She stopped and looked hard out the window.

"I stayed on the boat, while Rilde and Ana gathered them and carried out the rites. Carran went mad for a moment when he realized what they were doing. He didn't understand. They don't build fires like we do. They bury them in the ground just as they are." She wrinkled her nose.

"Disgusting," interjected Shiall.

Deera turned to her as if this was a conversation they had had many times. "But it was just as disgusting for him to see the smoke. He said that's what an enemy tribe will do to another tribe—set fire to their homes."

"Anyway," said Shiall casting a worried look at Corlu. "Let's tell her about the plans."

"The council's finally got people to start getting ready for the journey," Lian said. "They still don't understand that they can't take everything with them—"

"And some are refusing to come," interjected Deera.

"But people from the other villages are coming." Lian continued. "Ana said we can start the journey in eight days,"

"Eight days?" gasped Corlu and then coughed.

Mari came in and held out a cup of water, which Corlu took with a special smile, patting the blankest next to her, so Mari could nestle up against her.

Lian grabbed a clava cake from Mari. "She says there's no point in delaying, especially with the cold weather coming."

"So we'll be flying south with the birds," said Mari gleefully.

"She says people will follow when they decide to or when another Culling happens and there's no reason to waste more breath trying to convince them." Lian went on.

"But if they can find us, so can the Clacamash?" queried Corlu.

"They know," Shiall said grimly. "But I think they understand now that our ways have to change."

A lot had changed already, while she had been sick in bed thought Corlu. It was disorienting; one moment she was in the current of life and then the next, she found she had been swept aside, left spinning while the tide raced on.
Chapter Twenty-Three

Three symbols we give the Home.

The fish, silvered flame, swimming on the wave.

The flower, petals open, the season's yearly pledge.

And the sun that flies above them all,

Ever lasting in its change.

\--Children's lesson.

In and out went the needle through the rough cloth, the thread mesmerizing in its regularity, like tiny wavelets on a sea of cream and grey. Corlu blinked and sat up, pulling the cloth towards her. She was falling asleep in the hot sun, and if Ana saw she would force her to return home.

They were working in a tiny clearing in the southern marshes, helping Carran to repair the boat. He would leave this afternoon.

Corlu stared over at him as he worked with Ana on the raft. Sullen and taciturn, he made no effort to ingratiate himself. Still, Corlu felt drawn to him, and when he looked up and met her gaze, she saw something in his eyes, a flash of recognition, a sense of shared experience, before he looked away and closed himself off again.

Corlu slapped away one of the many midges that were screaming around her ankles, and found a better position on the tree stump. Perhaps it was best he was leaving. It was going to be hard enough to start anew, and most of the village still refused to accept him. She would never forget the ease in which Leela had so instantly whipped up the crowd into a blood lust, as if that emotion somehow lay latent, deep within every one of them. It disturbed her that hate was that strong, so persistent.

"That's it," said Ana, jumping down from the boat's bow.

Carran simply grunted.

"Well. Let's head back and grab some supplies. Lian, are you coming? We'll need all the hands we can get." Ana pushed Corlu back down on the stump. "Not you. You rest here."

Corlu gave her a rueful look. She had no desire to sit here alone with Carran. As it was she needn't have worried. Without saying a word, Carran disappeared into the bushes behind them. Corlu shrugged and finished repairing the last rip in the cloth. The afternoon wore on.

When she next looked up, Carran was emerging from the long reeds. Their eyes met across the clearing, making it impossible to continue working in silence.

"The sail's finished," said Corlu, holding out one end.

Carran walked over and to her surprise sat down beside her. "Thank you for setting me free," he said, picking at the dry grass.

Corlu shifted uncomfortably. "The thanks is all ours for everything you have done. You saved our lives, and I know you could have sailed away many days ago instead of helping us."

"Our debts to each other then have been fulfilled," he said grimly. "We are free."

Yes, free, thought Corlu. Free of debt, free of the island, free of one another, of the obligation to try to reach across cultures, to understand and to have to forgive. She didn't know what to say, and so they sat there in silence. Finally, she spoke: "Where will you go?"

Carran threw his hand out to the north. "Anywhere."

"You have no plans?" asked Corlu.

Carran shrugged. "I have no family, no tribe." He looked over at her with a strange look. "No village. So, no plans."

The utter loneliness of it caught at Corlu's throat. "Ana has said you can come with us."

"Yes," he said and then turned away. "Yes, you know that is impossible. Your people will never accept me."

Corlu thought she heard a tiny sigh, but then he laughed harshly and went on. "And it is true that my people would never accept you and yours. We are too different."

He got up as Ana came through the grass, the others behind her.

"But we accepted you," burst from Corlu's mouth. "You ate with us; we sailed with you." She couldn't let the conversation end on a note of such futility. He stared at her, his blue eyes full of understanding. He looked so familiar, fairer than the villagers, but still, one of them.

Carran turned back towards her unsmiling. "Yes. This is true. And I will remember. But yet I must go."

\- - -

The golden light of late afternoon fell around them as they pushed the boat out into the bay. The sail flapped lazily in the light wind. Sunset was close, earlier and earlier each day.

Deera held the boat until the last moment, grasping up to hold Carran's arm. Corlu couldn't hear what she said to him, but when she turned back towards the dry land, her eyes had that shiny brightness that Corlu had seen when Deera described finding the dead children.

As the boat moved out into the water, it picked up the wind and swung gently towards the peninsula. Soon it was racing towards the open sea and then became a tiny spot against the sparkle of the setting sun.

Corlu watched until she could no longer make it out and then reached for Lian's hand. He pulled her against his chest and gently kissed the top of her head. She leaned against him, grasping his hand tightly, but there was an ache inside her, an ache that spoke of the loneliness of freedom.

She looked up as a cloud of Liathen swooped and curved in the air, a mass of birds flying as one. They swirled towards the sea, circling and twisting in intricate patterns, until, without warning they straightened out and headed southward against the red oval of the setting sun.

