Taking the Knife (3 page)

Sefe
stood stiff. He'd forgotten his brother completely. Outside the Hunger,
Medo
might beg family ties and return to the tribe – if
Sefe
vouched for him. He intended to vouch for him.

"He knows." The flame
runna's
words shot through him.

Her secret.
Medo
knew about her spirit healing. What would his brother do when he woke? If he men a dead man."

Sefe
to take such danger back to the tribe with them.

The leader edged to the shelter. The girl skittered away, putting
Sefe
between herself and the tribe leader.

As he pivoted to keep the other man in view,
Sefe's
stomach churned. The hand gripping his spear felt cold, and out of old habit, he planted the butt against the ground and leaned on it.

With a scornful glance at
Sefe
, the tribe leader lowered his weapon and grabbed the hunter by the arms to drag him from the shelter. Straightening, he observed
Medo
a few heartbeats. "Your brother? What's wrong with him?"

Sefe
needed to claim his brother to protect him from Armin’s spear, but his lips refused to speak. The tribe would agree to take
Medo
back. But would he keep his tongue about the flame
runna’s
powers?

Armin pricked the inert form with his spear tip.
Medo
moaned and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

“He knows,” the flame
runna
repeated.

Sefe
raised his spear, yet couldn’t decide where to aim it. The thought of his brother at his side again made his chest ache with longing. Did
Medo
even want to rejoin the tribe?

Undaunted by
Sefe’s
weapon, Armin cocked his head. “What’s she saying?”

She wants
Medo
dead.

If she didn’t get her revenge, would she reveal her own secret? The tribe would not kill her. Killing a spirit healer would curse them. No, they'd leave her behind to die on the
Tox
.
Alone, but alive.
And her powers would be lost to him. Could she survive the
Tox
alone? She’d asked for his protection...

Medo
cracked one eye, grunted, and rolled to the side. As he attempted to sit,
Sefe
fought for air.
Medo
was his last living relative. If
Sefe
didn’t vouch for him, his life was forfeit to Armin’s spear right now. But if
Medo
spoke and revealed the flame
runna’s
spirit healing,
Sefe
would lose her power. He would soon be forced to take the Knife.
Don't wake up
. Not yet.
Sefe’s
head throbbed with indecision and his throat felt dry as the
Tox
.

The flame
runna
moved close behind him. He could feel her breath on his shoulder, and the scent of her skin enveloped him in desire. Her voice floated to his ear like a brush of wind. "He stole me once, he'll steal me again. He left his hunters and chose to be alone on the
Tox
. He is a dead man."

“Ana?”
Medo
sat and scowled at the dirt before raising
slitted
eyes to look for the girl. His lids opened wide at the sight of his brother. “
Sefe
!”

Armin pressed the spear against
Medo’s
chest until the hunter collapsed back into a prone position. “Why are you on the
Tox
alone, Hunter?”

Medo’s
hands groped at the spear shaft. “Armin, wait! Let me explain.”

The leader looked at
Sefe
and raised his pierced brows.

“No,”
Sefe
gasped, unsure
who
he was speaking to.

“The flame
runna
has spirit healing!”
Medo
burst out.

Only a half a heartbeat passed before Armin twisted, eyes full of question. The truth must have shown on
Sefe’s
face, for Armin grimaced and leapt over
Medo
to dart toward the trail.
Sefe
hesitated, but only an instant. Once Armin told the tribe, their fear would prevent him from keeping
Ana
. They might even shun him because of his brief association with her. He launched himselrem; font-weight:boldithiighf after the warrior, breaking through the
amarantox
in a shower of leaves. Armin had already reached the drop-off, slowing to navigate the narrow ledge down to the river.

Sefe
raced toward the ravine and tottered on the edge. Armin was halfway down the sloped shelf. In spite of Ana’s kiss,
Sefe
knew he’d never catch the man. He had to stop him. Pulling back his spear arm, he threw. The weapon clattered off the rock near Armin’s head. The warrior glanced back at
Sefe
and kept moving.

Sefe
blew out a despairing breath.

A trickle of dirt rained onto Armin’s head, quickly becoming a shower of rocks. Throwing an arm up, the warrior cried out. A large rock hit him square on the temple, and he tumbled from the ledge. The clatter of falling debris echoed from the canyon walls, then ceased.

Sefe
shot a glance along the top of the ravine; Ana stood several paces away, directly above where Armin had fallen, hands still bound behind her. She turned to look calmly at him, and he took a reflexive step back.

When she didn’t move, he craned his neck to look out over the rock and saw Armin splayed near the water, blood fanning across the bank from his skull to mix with the muddy flow. He straightened, unsure what to do next.

Ana stepped
forward. “Untie me.”

Maintaining his distance,
Sefe
caressed the small eating knife at his belt.
Medo
had kept her tied for a reason. And she’d just killed his tribe leader. She was dangerous. “What did you offer my brother?”

Her eyes tightened. “He stole what he wanted. From me and from his hunter brothers.”

Sefe
searched her face for signs of lying. To the unsuspecting, she looked human and frail. A girl-woman,
who’d
asked for his protection. Had offered him her power. Taking a breath, he grasped her bicep and turned her to place his knife to the rope. What did he have to lose? At worst, he’d be back where he’d started.
Or unconscious, like
Medo
.
“Do not run away.”

The moment her wrists were free, she faced him, rubbing the chafe marks the cord had left. “You will need a weapon.”

Did she want him to retrieve a spear so she could use it against him? With her spirit healing, he doubted she needed one. But she was right – a man should not be on the
Tox
without a weapon.

With Ana close behind he clambered down the ravine to look for his spear. The river here widened, and the water mumbled against the rocks, as if complaining at being weakened. His weapon had bounced and skittered nearly into the water, and when he lifted the familiar weight his heart fell. The tip had snapped nearly in half.

Ana danced across the rock toward Armin and grabbed the leader’s spear.
Sefe’s
breath caught as she steadied the shaft on one shoulder and ran toward him. But she didn’t throw it. When she reached him, she lowered the point and offered him the butt end. The status feathers, weighted with the leader’s blood, clung to the shaft.
Sefe
took it, and Ana smiled. He caressed the slick wood with both hands. Armin was dead. What would he tell the tribe? Tempted as he was to thrust the body into the river and say their leader had never found him, too many years of hunger prevented him.

He tilted his neck to peer toward the top of the trail. “I’ll say he was killed in a fall.”

“And your brother?”

He scowled, still looking at the cliff.
Medo
had nearly cost him his chance at life. He
h
ad
cost Armin his. Best to leave him where he lay. Like Ana said,
Medo
had chosen his path – alone on the
Tox
.

“You let him live, and he tells.”

Her words sliced open the truth as surely as the Knife. Anyone who found his brother, whether they killed him or not, might first learn the secret of the captive flame
runna
. And although the tribes were enemies most of the year, traders moved freely between them. The secret would escape.

Medo
!
his
heart cried in anguish. Just like it had the trade-day his brother had left with the hunters. Had left him and his tribe.

Medo
had ceased being his brother on that day. But
Sefe’s
feet were still heavy as he ascended the ledge. Outside the thicket, he paused. How could he do this thing? He closed his eyes and took a breath. The intake of air made his spine ignite, and he hunched, a tear leaking from one eye.

Small fingers gripped his chin, and then her lips were against his. He wrapped an arm around her to pull her close and drank deeply of her magic. When his head began to spin, he released her. She looked up at him with her fathomless dark eyes and nodded. He knew what had to be done.

He straightened and stepped into the clearing.

Medo
had crawled half into the
firepit
and now lay with one arm crooked over his eyes. He peeked from beneath his elbow at the rattle of
amarantox
and grinned at
Sefe
. “It’s good to see you, brother.”

Sefe
didn’t respond. Pulse thundering in his ears, he approached, spear tip first.

Medo’s
grin faltered. His gaze shifted to where
Ana
stood behind
Sefe
. “Brother?”

Placing the spear’s tip to
Medo's
breast,
Sefe
pushed until the blade could sink no further.
Medo
bucked against the protruding weapon, eyes wide, stirring a shroud of ash about them.

Sefe
leaned hard, allowing the shaft to take his full weight. Only this was no walking stick. This was the weapon of a leader. His weapon.
Sefe
kept his grip until
Medo’s
struggles ceased. When the black dust had settled, he looked down at the pathetic, naked corpse.

"I have attended my brother's Knife."

With newfound energy and the strength of a warrior,
Sefe
began to dismantle the shelter to make a travois. He had two carcasses to transport over the Crossing. The Hunger was coming.
But not today.