The Dove (Prophecy Series) (18 page)

The moment the thought went through his mind, she thrust her fist into the air, threw back her head and let out a war cry that even the rain could not mute. It was the perfect salute to their exit, because this journey was, in truth, a battle to save the human race.

As if the downpour wasn’t reason enough to take shelter, the answering cry sent everything and everyone within hearing distance into hiding and put the people of Naaki Chava on their knees.

Tyhen’s heart soared as the sound reverberated through her body. “We go!” she shouted, then came down off the temple in a leap that sent water splashing into the air and flashed Yuma a grin.

He answered with a laugh, then took her by the hand and headed out, walking behind the New Ones who had been chosen to take the lead, heading due North, straight past the dying mountain and into the future.

****

Rather than add to the confusion with all that the guards and ceremony their presence demanded, Cayetano and Singing Bird had said their good-byes at the palace and watched the procession’s exit from their vantage point on the hill above the city.

Singing Bird stood in the rain without moving until the last person had walked out of sight, and then she went back to her room and collapsed, prostrate with grief.

Cayetano stayed beside her, afraid if he left her, that she would die from a broken heart.

The jungle through which they walked was rife with overgrowth, much of which had to be cut down to get past. Thin vines with rough stems tugged and pulled at their clothing, as if unwilling to let them walk away. The rain made the path slick, and the terrain often caused moments of panic as sure feet suddenly slipped off narrow paths.

The New Ones had been wet before, and although it was an uncomfortable start to their journey, it did not faze them. Few spoke, saving their breath for walking the terrain, up hills and down into valleys heavy with the wet jungle growth.

When the rain finally stopped and the sun came out, it didn’t take long for their clothing to dry and the insects to descend. Sensing the large quantities of fresh blood, they came in swarms, lighting on the plethora of bare flesh with vicious intent.

Tyhen had been walking without thought, just hoping to get through the first day without incident when the bloodsuckers enveloped them. Like everyone else, she began swatting them as they landed.

“Where on earth did all these bugs come from?” Yuma asked, then spit when one flew into his mouth.

She frowned, then turned around and looked down the long row of people behind her. As far as she could see, people were swatting and fanning at the insects, trying to keep them from their eyes and mouths. Because it had been raining when they left, no one had thought to rub their bodies with the medicine leaves. They’d passed the bushes in the jungle earlier, but obviously no one, including her, had thought to gather some for later.

“I think rain was better,” she said.

Yuma wasn’t going to disagree. “We need some of Little Mouse’s stinky medicine rubbed on our bodies.”

“I have a better way,” she said.

Without missing a step, she raised her arms and swirled them over her head like she was stirring a stew. Within seconds a wind came, blowing down the line of marchers from the first to the last and blew the insects away. It continued as a breeze against their skin until they were completely out of the thick growth and entering a clearing that consisted of cleared fields and growing crops. In the distance, they could just see the rooftops of the villagers little huts.

The marchers immediately shifted course to keep from trampling the crops, and within minutes, people began coming out of the jungle on both sides of them, carrying fruit and offering drinks as if they’d known that they were coming.

When they spotted the young woman with long legs who walked among them, some dropped to their knees while others began chanting her name.

Tyhen waved, and when she did, they began shouting and pointing in delight that they had seen her for themselves.

Yuma was elated that their first meeting with another tribe had been a positive one, but he was under no misapprehension that it would always be this way. This tribe was still close to home. The truth of her journey would have been well-known to them. When she glanced at him and smiled, he smiled back. No need letting his concern shade the joy on her face.

The sun was directly overhead when they made their first stop beside a river. Some of the older ones dropped where they stood, too exhausted to even fill their water jugs, but the younger ones quickly picked up the slack. When they began to take food from their packs, they chose perishable food first.

Tyhen was tired, too, but she could tell morale was low. She stood silently, looking across the sea of stoic faces. They had endured so much already. She couldn’t imagine what they must be thinking, but she knew they were grieving the loss of friends and family they’d left behind because she was, too.

Yuma walked up behind her, sliding his hand around her waist just to let her know he was here. He felt the tension in her muscles and then the release as she cupped his hand and leaned against his strength.

“Are you okay? Do you need to relieve yourself? If you do, I’ll watch for you,” Yuma said.

She nodded once, then turned and followed him a short distance into the jungle. She wasn’t the only woman looking for a little privacy, but paid no attention to the others as she found a clump of bushes and did what she needed to do. She was on her way back when she heard someone crying.

She stopped and then followed the sound to a young woman who was down on her knees, her hands covering her face in a futile effort to muffle the sounds of her sobs.

Tyhen recognized her as she knelt and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you hurting, Nona?”

The young woman looked up. “No, I’m not hurt. I’m sorry,” she mumbled and began wiping away the tears from her face with shaky hands.

Tyhen knew what was wrong the moment she touched her. Nona’s mother had become a cripple after her run from Firewalker, she had stayed behind.

“I left my mother behind, too,” Tyhen said.

Nona’s face crumpled as the tears began all over again. “We’ll never see them again, will we?”

A muscle jerked near Tyhen’s eye, but she didn’t give in to her own emotions. “No.”

Nona took a deep breath, and then slammed her hands against the ground. “I hate this!”

“Then why did you come? Why didn’t you stay with your mother?” Tyhen asked.

Nona’s shoulders slumped. “Because I love my husband, too, and he said it was our duty. Both of his grandparents died during the Last Walk. He is determined that their deaths not be in vain.”

“So, do you love your mother more than your man?”

Nona’s eyes widened. “No, but—”

“Grieve the loss, but do not regret it. You have to want to be here, Nona. This is hard enough without hard feelings, too. It’s not too late. You can go back if you want, but remember, you will not stay in Naaki Chava either, because it will die.”

Nona shuddered, then swallowed back a sob and wiped her face.

“I don’t want to go back. I’m sorry, Tyhen. Thank you for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome, and don’t ever be sorry to admit how you feel. Just remember, we all hurt, every one of us.”

Nona nodded as she got to her feet.

Tyhen stood, brushed the dirt from her knees and then held out her hand. “Walk with me?”

Nona clutched Tyhen’s hand like it was a lifeline and even managed a smile as they walked out.

When Yuma saw Tyhen coming out with another woman, he caught her eye, then followed them back to the others without intruding. It wasn’t until they parted company that he caught up with Tyhen.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Just a moment of grief. Something I’m sure we’re all feeling.”

Yuma cupped her face, and the moment they touched, she felt his love flow through her. She watched his dark eyes narrow as a small frown appeared between his brows.

“Remember, when you need, I will cry with you,” he said softly.

She sighed. “I love you with all that I am.”

He grinned to alleviate the seriousness of the moment. “And you
will
love me forever.”

She smiled and then doubled up her fist and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You should not boast.”

He laughed, and then took her hand. “Come walk with me. The people need to see your smile.”

Wisely, he was right. Instead of resting, she ate while she visited with the marchers, sharing their aches, and empathizing with the scope of what they were doing. But as she walked among them, something happened that she had not expected. Their outlook gave her spirit a boost. It was a reminder of how they had accepted their burden to see this through.

Finally, she walked down to the edge of the river to refill her water jug and wash her hands and face. She was on her knees, about to lean over and scoop water up to her face when she heard Yuma shout her name.

She looked up just as the snout of a crocodile surfaced only feet from where she was kneeling. She caught a brief flash of Yuma’s dark hair and long legs and then he was in the water, locked into the croc’s death roll. With one last splash of its tail, the crocodile took them under.

She screamed his name once as she leaped to her feet, then headed for the water with her knife in her hand. All of a sudden there were hands at her waist and then someone was dragging her back and she was screaming.

“Let me go! Let me go! He’s going to die!”

“Stop, Tyhen, stop! You can’t help. Look behind you! This is your responsibility! Yuma knew that when he went into the water. Let it be!”

When she heard Montford Nantay’s words, she knew he was right. The knowledge that she was also a sacrifice for a greater cause was overwhelming. Heart breaking, she slid her knife back in the scabbard and backed away from the river’s edge. At that point, time stopped. She saw nothing and heard nothing but the churning water. Although many people came running from all directions to see what was happening, they were of no use.

Tyhen was helpless. Every power she had was worthless if it could not save Yuma’s life. She could not part the water. She could not stop the crocodile’s heart, and she could not save her man. He was going to have to save himself.

She watched in mute horror as the water churned while the seconds felt like hours. Then suddenly the water turned to blood! When it began spreading across the surface, Tyhen would have fainted but for Montford, who steadied her on her feet.

The blood continued to spread and the water was no longer churning. It was the longest ten seconds in Tyhen’s life before Yuma’s head suddenly broke the surface of the river, and when he took a huge gulp of fresh air, everyone on the shore took a breath with him. The moment he began trying to swim back to shore, Tyhen pulled away from Montford’s grasp and ran into the water after him, followed by a half-dozen men who helped her pull him out.

****

Yuma believed he would die and it didn’t matter. When he’d seen the croc so close to Tyhen’s head, he reacted without thought. Warrior’s Heart, the knife Cayetano had given him, was in his hand before his feet left the ground, and when he hit the water, he landed belly down on the croc’s back. His only thought was to stay away from the crocodile’s mouth and teeth, and immediately wrapped both arms around the body while trying to get a grip strong enough to use his knife.

The moment the croc felt the threat, it went into survival mode, thrashing and rolling while trying to unload the enemy on its back.

Yuma’s first stab with the knife was futile. The hide was like armor, and once the croc pulled him under, he was fighting blind. Their fight had muddied the water to the point that he could not see where to strike. He just knew he could not let go. The first time the blade hit the soft flesh of the underbelly, he heard Adam’s voice.

Again. Do it again.

So he did, stabbing and slashing, over and over, until he realized the crocodile was sinking and taking him with it.

Let go and swim up. Do it now!

Yuma didn’t know what was up and what was down, so when he pushed off and began to swim, he could only hope it was in the right direction because he was out of air.

When he broke the surface and took a first desperate breath, he was only seconds from passing out. He kept gasping and blinking, trying to clear his vision and get enough oxygen in his lungs to move. Everything was a blur until he turned toward shore. He recognized Tyhen by her height and dark hair, and the fact that she was running into the water after him. He didn’t remember swimming, only that he felt her hands pulling him toward shore.

When they finally pulled him to dry land, he was belly down, but the moment they turned him loose, Tyhen rolled him over onto his back.

“Breathe, Yuma, breathe!” she kept saying.

He was doing his best, still gasping for air, too exhausted to speak. His eyes were closed and he didn’t know until she took it from him that he was still gripping the knife he’d used for the kill.

The moment Tyhen saw the deep, bloody scratch down the middle of his chest, she groaned.

“He’s been hurt,” she said and looked over her shoulder at the gathering crowd. “Someone bring medicine.”

A healer quickly came forward, holding a small bag with medicines.

“Let me, little Dove,” the man said and began cleaning the wound. When he was satisfied he’d removed all the debris, he spread an ointment down the length of the cut.

Tyhen was on her knees at his side, unaware she was crying. She was angry with herself, for the carelessness that had nearly gotten him killed. She might be Windwalker’s daughter, but living in the palace under guard had left her naïve to the jungle’s dangers.

As soon as the people realized Yuma was going to be all right, they began to disperse.

Montford touched Tyhen’s shoulder.

She looked up.

“Do you have more need of me?” he asked.