Sky Child (9 page)

I feel anger building inside. Not just for Sickle and Scythe being evil, but for failing Flot. He is going through what I went through; what I tried to spare him from. I just hope he knows that he's not alone.

I nod at him, and walk back to our room.

14

When I get back to our room, Jet isn't there, but Mast is waiting inside for me. I start to worry, because I'm surprised Mast would come into our room without being invited. Something serious must have brought him here.

I notice that he's not wearing his armor. I'm not used to seeing him in normal clothes. I don't look at a lot of people. I feel like if I don't notice others, then they won't notice me. It's helped me stay alive. So even if I had passed by him in the tunnels, I wouldn't have noticed what he looked like.

He has a beard, though not very long, and it has patches of white in it. He is not a gray one yet, but it probably won't be many snows before he looks like one. His eyes are serious, like he has lived a long and dangerous life, and there is little happiness in them.

Mast's hair is dark brown, like the color of dirt when it rains. His skin is colored red where the sun has done its work. He wears his long hair tied back to keep it out of his face. His body looks like a tree stump, very sturdy and strong, and his arms look like he could move the largest rock in the Crag. I am glad that Chaff is my enemy, and not Mast.

"Do you have need of me, Mast?" I ask.

"No, I bring you news. Before you are truly the Leader of the Hunt, you must face the trials. Then, and only then will you be allowed to lead," says Mast.

"Mast, I don't want to lead," I say.

"That makes no difference. You will start tomorrow at sunrise. Be prepared for anything."

Mast walks past me, but I stop him.

"Wait, are the trials dangerous? Could I die?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not doing them."

"I am sorry Sam, but you have no choice."

"You always have a choice," I say.

"Then you must choose either to go through the trials, or we will kill you, and someone will take your place," says Mast.

"So I can't make someone else the Leader of the Hunt?"

"No."

"Fine then. Kill me," I say.

Mast stares at me in disbelief.

"I didn't want this," I say. "Why should I bother when I will probably die anyway?"

"Think of Jet and Flot. What will they do without you? Think of the Crag, and of the hunters. We need a leader like you. I know you don't really want to die. It's why you've worked so hard to survive. Why you took control when Lagan froze," says Mast.

"Did Lagan and Hammer have to go through the trials?" I ask.

"Yes, but it is different for everyone. What you will face will be meant for you alone."

"How many people have died in the trials?"

"Many," says Mast. "Many more than have succeeded."

I think to myself for a moment.

"Fine, I will do your trials. But once I am leader, I will change the rules so that no one has to suffer to become leader ever again," I say.

"You miss the point of why the rule exists. It was put into place so that only someone brave, and strong, and smart would lead the hunters. It also keeps people from wanting to kill the current leader to take their place. It is meant to protect the hunters from having an evil coward for a leader."

"Like Chaff?"

"I am certain that people like him are the reason the trials exist," says Mast.

I take a moment longer to think.

"I understand," I say.

Mast turns around then leaves.

I wish I could leave everything behind me. Forget being the Leader of the Hunt, or even a hunter at all. I'd never have to kill a living thing again. Just take Jet and Flot and leave the Crag. But there is nowhere to go. We would walk around with no direction, praying to the Sky Gods that we find somewhere new to live.

I can't do that. I can't risk their lives to avoid the trials. Going out on our own would be just as dangerous. So I will go through the trials for them, if for no other reason than to give them the chance to stay here, and stay alive.

I sit on my bed and think for a while, trying to decide how to ready myself for the trials. Eventually Flot returns. I look at him, but he won't look at me. He tries to act like nothing has happened; like he isn't injured. Even though he is not very strong, Flot tries very hard to be tough.

"So what did Mast come to talk about?" asks Flot.

"I have to go through trials so that I can become the Leader of the Hunt. If I refuse, they will put me to death," I say.

Jet walks in right then, having heard what I'd just said. I look at both of their faces, and I see the same fear and worry I feel inside.

"What do you need to do for the trials?" asks Jet.

"I will be tested, but they didn't say how," I say.

"Could you die?" asks Flot.

"Yes, but I'm not going to. I'm going to live for many more snows. I don't want to do this, but I have no choice."

Neither Flot nor Jet say a word.

"Now I need to train," I say.

"How do you train for something, when you don't even know what that something is?" asks Flot.

"I really don't know," I say.

"Well, did Mast say anything? Anything that might help?" asks Flot.

I think back to what Mast had said.

"He said that the trials are meant to test if someone is brave, and strong, and smart."

"At least that's something," says Flot. "But how do you practice being brave? Strong you can practice by lifting heavy things. You aren't very smart, so you should probably play a few games of jump stones with me for practice."

I give Flot a fake look of anger.

"You're right," I say. "It is a good idea to play a few games. And I probably won't get much stronger, even if I worked very hard at it until the sun sets. I also think that I am as brave as I will ever be. Okay Flot, you win. We can play jump stones."

I'm glad to have the game as a distraction, so that I don't worry as much. I do my best to pay attention, but my thoughts keep going back to the trials. Sometimes worrying about something is worse than what actually happens. But sometimes it isn't.

The first game goes by quickly. I beat Flot easily. The next takes much longer. Flot paid attention to the first game, and learned from it. I think he is taking it very seriously, because he wants to help me. I know if either Flot or Jet had to go through the trials, I would be working very, very hard to make sure they were ready for it.

I win the next game, but not by much. I only have a few pieces left. Jet has been watching us play, and I think he is actually starting to pick up some of the tricks that I use. He smiles right before I make an important move, and cringes when I make a mistake. Maybe Jet is better at strategy than I realized.

The last game is the best game of jump stones that I have ever played. It seems to take forever. Flot thinks through every move very, very slowly, making sure he makes the best decision he can.

Normally when I play, I don't have to think about the first few moves, because I have done them so many times. There are only so many pieces you can move, and places you can move them to. But even those moves take a while as Flot tries his best to win.

I don't know if it is pride or stubbornness, but I try my hardest too. I don't want Flot to beat me, even if it would mean so much to him. As hard as he is trying, I don't think he wants to beat me either. I think he just wants me doing my best, so that I have a chance at surviving the trials.

I lose pieces, and Flot loses pieces. He gets a rock, and this time he does everything he can to protect it. He remembers to protect what is most important to him. I get a rock, and then another rock. Flot looks worried, until he gets another rock, too.

I can't remember a game we have played where he had a pair of rocks. I can tell that Flot is very happy to get another rock. The question is, will he be able to figure out how to use his pair of rocks together?

Slowly, I pick apart his pieces, until only my pair of rocks remain. Flot looks unhappy, but he still smiles.

"Good game," he says.

"Good game," I reply. "You did very, very well Flot. Once you have more experience with how to use a pair of rocks, I am sure you will soon beat me."

"I don't know, Sam. It seems like every time I get better, you get better."

"I have to. I don't like to lose."

"Sam, have you ever lost at jump stones?" asks Jet.

"Sure, lots of times when I was first learning. The important thing is to learn from your losses. Sometimes you get more out of losing than you do from winning, because sometimes you just get lucky when you beat someone. Maybe they make a mistake, or don't try very hard. There can be things you learn from victories, but it's your losses that make you stronger. Learn from your enemies."

"But you aren't my enemy," says Flot.

"Yes I am, when we play jump stones. That is the point. We play games to war with each other without hurting anyone. They are meant to teach you things more important about yourself, and about others, than what you could learn by talking with them. You learn how they think, and how they see things. You can bet that someone good at jump stones would be good at war," I say.

"But I have always heard that a game is just a game," says Jet.

"Games are never just games. The people that say that usually aren't very good at them. It is a way of saying that the game does not matter to them, so if they lose, it doesn't hurt them inside."

"I try not to let it hurt me inside," says Flot.

"I know, but it's okay to let it hurt a little, so that it makes you want to be better. It should make you want to work harder, and get better, so that you win, and then the pain goes away."

"I never thought of it that way," says Flot.

"Neither had I, until now," I admit.

15

I
spend the rest of the day trying to stay busy. I clean our room, wash my clothes, and bathe in the loud waters. Flot and Jet both go off and get into whatever kind of trouble they can find. Near the end of the day, Ebb visits me.

"Sam?" I hear her sweet voice say.

"Ebb, did you get some rest?" I ask.

"Yes, thank you. It wasn't easy at first, with people walking by my room. But I was so tired from staying up all night that I was able to sleep."

"I'm sorry that you had to stay up all night because of me," I say.

"You don't need to apologize Sam. Knowing you are safe is worth it," she says.

"Have you heard about the trials?" I ask.

"No, I haven't. What are 'the trials'?"

"Before I can become the Leader of the Hunt, I have to go through trials to see if I am brave enough, strong enough and smart enough to lead."

"Are they dangerous?"

"There's a chance I will die."

"Can't you refuse?" asks Ebb.

"Mast says that if I do, they will kill me. I have no choice."

"Run away then, Sam."

"To where?" I ask. "There's nowhere to run to."

"But I don't want you to die," says Ebb.

"I don't want to die either, but I don't have a choice. Maybe I'll survive the trials."

"But why take the chance?"

"Because I can't just take my brothers and leave. I have to think about them too. If it was just me, I might risk living outside of the Crag. I know how to hunt, so I could feed myself, and I would have my armor to protect me. But I can't risk Flot's and Jet's lives."

"So you're going through with it," says Ebb.

"Yes."

Ebb's face is filled with sadness. She stares at the ground, and won't look me in the eyes.

"Is there anything I can do to help you prepare?"

"I can't think of anything. Flot and I played jump stones, but I don't feel any smarter," I say.

"And you can't really practice how to be brave," says Ebb. "It's also supposed to test your strength?"

"Yeah, but you would have to move large stones for many sunrises to really get much stronger. There is no time for that."

"Maybe they don't mean for you to be stronger, like lifting heavy things. Maybe they mean for you to be good at combat."

"I think I will be okay," I say. "I can protect myself with my sling, or use a spear."

"But what if they give you neither of those? What if you have to protect yourself with only your hands?"

"I hadn't thought of that. So how will I get better at hand combat?" I ask.

"I could teach you," says Ebb.

"You know how to fight with your fists?"

"Yes, my father showed me how. He used to drink beer and fight people. Sometimes he would fight people to win more food, or blankets. Sometimes he would just fight to show someone he was stronger."

"Did he ever kill anyone?" I ask.

"Not that he ever told me. But I asked him once, and he became very sad. He wouldn't talk to me about it," says Ebb.

"I imagine if I killed someone, that it would be very hard for me. I would hurt inside very much. I would only ever kill someone if I had to. To protect Jet or Flot. People I love," I say. "So how are you going to teach me to hand fight?"

"Well, we should probably go outside. The sun should still be in the sky, but we won't have very long. Let's hurry."

Ebb and I leave the Crag, and walk for a while so that no one will see us. The ground is soaked from the rains. I can see small patches of blue sky, but the sun has not been able to dry up the land. The clouds keep the ground wet.

For the first time I realize how beautiful Ebb is, now that I can see her in the white light of a gray sky. Her hair is the color of wheat, which is unlike the hair of most of our people. My hair is deep brown, with parts that are almost a dark red color.

"We should find a place where the dirt is soft, so that if we fall, it will not hurt," says Ebb.

We walk until we find a patch of dirt that has now become mud. I figure that should work, and Ebb agrees.

"Okay, the first thing I will teach you is how to stand," says Ebb. "You want to spread your feet apart, about as wide as your shoulders, then bend your knees."

"Like this?" I ask.

"You are bending your knees too much. Just bend them a little. Yes, that is better. Now put your fists in the air."

I put my fists in the air.

"Not that high," says Ebb. "Here, like this."

Ebb puts her fists up near her face, with her elbows bent.

"Why do you put them near your face?" I ask.

"So you can protect it from punches. Most people swing for the head."

"That makes sense," I say.

"Which hand do you use more?"

"My right."

"Okay, so you want to have your left foot closer to your enemy," says Ebb.

"Now that doesn't make any sense," I say. "Don't you want the arm you hit harder with closer to your enemy?"

"No, you want it further back, so that when you swing it, it will do more damage."

"Oh. Then what do you do with your other arm?" I ask.

"You can use it to protect yourself, and to make short punches with it just to distract your enemy. Here, watch."

Ebb comes up to me, putting her left foot closer to me than her right. Then she throws a quick punch with her left hand that hits my forehead.

"Hey!" I say.

"Hey what? You knew I was going to do it, because I told you. You could have moved out of the way at the last moment. That is another thing you should do. When someone tries to throw a punch, you should move out of the way so that you don't get hit," says Ebb.

"Now you are making sense again," I say.

"I've been making sense since we started," says Ebb. "Do you remember how getting hit in the forehead made you stop thinking, and stop moving?"

"Yes," I say.

"Well, it's good to follow one of those with a punch from your strong hand. Like this," says Ebb.

She hits me in the face with a short punch from her left hand again, but thankfully it gives me just enough time to move out of the way of her right hand. It comes quickly, and she tries to hit me with all of her strength. I bend over out of the way, and I hit her in the stomach with my left hand. Not thinking, just moving.

"Ungh," groans Ebb.

"I'm sorry!" I say, worried I hurt her.

Ebb throws a punch that I never see. Her left fist comes from below, and hits my chin, sending me to the muddy ground. The world goes dark.

"Sam? Sam? Are you okay?" asks Ebb.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I punched you really hard."

"Ow," I groan. "You really did. You hit me so hard I fell asleep!"

"I don't know if I would call it sleep," says Ebb. "But you definitely weren't awake."

I stand back up, out of the mud, which is now dripping off me.

"Okay, the next thing I'm going to... " started Ebb.

Before she can finish her sentence, I tackle her around the waist. I knock her into the mud, and we roll around. She seems surprised by the attack. I try to hold her arms down, but she punches me in the stomach. I roll over onto my back, my stomach filled with pain. She uses that against me. Ebb climbs on top of me, holds me around the neck with her left hand and holds her right fist up high.

"Do you want another punch to your head?" says Ebb.

"No, I'll be good. I promise," I say.

"I'm trying to help you," says Ebb.

"I know. I'm sorry."

We both stand back up.

"Just so you know, Sam, that was smart of you. You surprised me. You want to do that in any fight, especially when the person is bigger than you. Hand fighting isn't just about fists, it is also about being smart. And use what you have around you, like this," says Ebb.

Ebb throws a ball of mud at my face. I somehow manage to move out of the way, but it still hits my ear. It is very hard for me not to do the same back.

"So what I was trying to do was cover your eyes in mud," says Ebb. "That way you couldn't see me. I would be able to hit you while your eyes didn't work, and it would be harder for you to hit me. Make sense?"

"That seems unfair," I say.

"Yeah, well fights aren't fair, are they?" says Ebb. "Sometimes you are fighting for your life. When you are fighting in the trials, it
wil
l
be for your life. Remember that Sam."

"I will," I say.

"The last thing I'm going to teach you is how to kick," says Ebb.

"Are you allowed to kick in a hand fight?" I ask.

"Have you ever read a book on hand fighting?" asks Ebb.

"No."

"That's because there isn't one. There are no rules for fighting. Use anything you can. Bite your enemy if you have to, or claw at their eyes. All that matters is surviving. If that means you have to kill your enemy, kill your enemy, because they would kill you."

"Okay, so how do I kick then?" I ask.

"You can use a kick like a punch. You know how you use your left hand to throw a short punch? Do the same thing with your left foot," says Ebb.

"You mean like this?" I say.

I use my left foot to stomp the ground.

"Yes, something like that. The best places you can kick at are the inside part of the foot, and at the knee. If you damage your enemy's knee, they will not be able to fight, and they definitely won't be able to run and catch you. The inside of the foot will hurt your enemy, but after a moment they will be able to continue attacking you. Remember that, if you are being attacked."

"Can I kick any higher?" I ask.

"It is not a good idea, but go ahead and try it," says Ebb.

I try kicking her in the stomach and miss. Instead, she catches and holds onto my leg. I lose my balance and fall into the mud.

"Yeah, I can see why I shouldn't do that," I say as I get back up. "Is there anything else I need to learn?" I ask.

"Not that I can think of. But you should probably practice what I have taught you. So go ahead and attack me."

I try hard to attack Ebb without hurting her. I know that when the time comes, I will need to hurt my enemy. But for now it helps just knowing what attacks I should use.

As we practice fighting, I learn how to use my arms to protect my stomach and face. I also learn how to block kicks with my shins. It hurts, but it is better than having a broken foot or knee. Ebb doesn't hold back much, but I know that she is trying not to hurt me either. For her training to work, and to help me survive, she has to make it as real as she can.

The sun starts to set. We are both very tired. She attacks me one last time, tackling me to the ground. We roll around in the mud a bit, but finally she ends up on top of me, pinning my arms to the ground.

"Do you give up?" asks Ebb.

"Never!" I say.

We both laugh. Ebb rolls off of me and onto her back. We just lie in the mud for a moment.

"Thank you, Ebb. What you have taught me may save my life. I will forever owe you a debt," I say.

"Just survive, Sam. I don't want you to die."

"I will do everything I can to live."

There is just enough sun left in the sky that we are able to find our way back to the Crag.