Tribe: The Red Hand (Tribe Series Book 1) (13 page)

Kestrel blinked away the images in time to see her father and One-Ear Tom move under the Bone Tree. After nodding to each other, they each grasped a nearly invisible wire—which a Red Hand or two had strung through the branches, and who were even now hidden out of sight—and clipped the skulls to the looped ends. As the two old warriors stepped back, the hidden Red Hands slowly drew the two skulls aloft, stopping when they dangled twenty feet up.

Kestrel stared along with everyone else, but her mind had snagged on another detail:
How did I bring the skull of the Stone Dog home without knowing it?

The answer came swiftly.

Aiden had found her knife, and when he did, he had also taken the Stone Dog’s head, and then hid it within his knapsack. Later, somewhere outside the village, Aiden must have placed the Kill in her hands. The bundled, bloody hide had
seemed
heavier and larger, because it
had
been. With the same eerie clarity as before, she saw herself lolling about on a night-shadowed forest trail, caught in the throes of delirium, while Aiden stole a sly glance her way, then carefully wrapped the skulls of man and beast together in the lion’s hide….

A final question bubbled to the surface, and it troubled her more than everything else. Why would Aiden make her a hero amongst her people?

Before she found a suitable answer, the stillness of those around her brought her back into the moment.

Matthias and One-Ear Tom stood looking at her, quizzical frowns wrinkling their brows. One-Ear Tom’s lips moved, but the buzzing in Kestrel’s head had returned, a sound like countless flies swarming within a tiny cave.

Others were looking her way now, some with patient smiles, some with concern, but most with guarded alarm, as if something about her expression worried them.

“What did you see, young Kes?” One-Ear Tom said, his voice pushing through the droning in her head.

I cannot tell you.
Kestrel swallowed, ran her leather-dry tongue around her mouth, and raised a tentative finger to the teeth hung on her necklace. Lion teeth. Human teeth. All in a row, cool against her neck.

Her mentor tried again, leaning forward, peering intently at her. She saw herself reflected in his pupils, and behind her dozens of frozen faces. “What did the Ancestors show you?” His lips spread in a tentative smile. “Come girl, tell us, so that we can get on with feasting, and you can get some rest.”

“The Ancestors?” Kestrel rasped, stupid with confusion. What did the Ancestors have to do with any of this? “I … I don’t understand.”

One-Ear Tom glanced sharply at Matthias. “She came too soon to the ceremony. We should have waited. ”

He spoke under his breath, but Kestrel heard him as plainly as if he had shouted. Her eyes rolled in her head until they landed on Aiden. He wore a self-satisfied expression that made no more sense than anything else.

“Ask her again,” Matthias said.

One-Ear Tom nodded hesitantly. “When you drank the seeker’s tea, Kestrel,” he said, speaking every word precisely, “did the Ancestors show you anything that might help our people?”

Kestrel looked back to Aiden, but now he would not meet her gaze.
What have you done?

“Kestrel Stoneheart! What did the Ancestors show you?”

Startled by her teacher’s shout, Kestrel forced herself to concentrate. Had the Ancestors
shown
her anything? She thought there
was
one thing that had happened after she drank the seeker’s tea that had not happened in real life. Could that be the message One-Ear Tom wanted to hear?

Say nothing about this
, Aiden had warned in the old city, and in her mind tonight, when the seeker’s tea had filled her with so many strange sensations.

You do not frighten me. I am a Red Hand, s
he had responded in the vision, the words bursting from her in the form of a shimmering blast that struck Aiden in the chest and exploded him into a cloud of dust.

Did the Ancestors want her to kill Aiden with something that looked like a blast from a firelance pistol? That made no sense!

Kestrel shook her head, trying to understand—

She could almost hear the click in her mind when everything fell into place.

The old city. The stock of firelance pistols Aiden intended to use against the Tall Ones. And the last thing, the power of her words rendering him harmless…. Was that a sign from the Ancestors telling her that they would protect her if she revealed the truth he wanted kept hidden?

It must be.

The thought was half hope, half certainty.

When I tell, everyone will object to Aiden’s mad scheme....
Ancestors, protect me
.

Kestrel looked directly at Aiden. “The will of the Ancestors is for me to join my brother in making war against the Tall Ones.”

Shocked silence held for a moment, before a frenzied uproar swept through the villagers. And for the second time that night, her brother burst out laughing.

CHAPTER TWENTY

One-Ear Tom moved swiftly to haul Kestrel away from the villagers, and then placed her behind the black and white stone bench for good measure. Looking at the faces of her people, some livid, some shocked, she wondered if the Ancestors had played a cruel trick on her.

Some villagers had pushed forward, waving fists, demanding answers, but most had retreated, faces tight with fear at the idea of attacking the reclusive Tall Ones. Anytime something bad or unusual happened, the Tall Ones were blamed. If a child died in the womb, or someone vanished, or if a drought or flood destroyed the crops, or if the game herds were thinner one year, stories swept through the village, whisperings of just-glimpsed phantoms, or strange lights, or any number of odd occurrences. There were many reasons no one had ever made war against those people—or monsters, as most believed—but the most prominent reason, if never admitted aloud, was fear.

“Quiet!” her father called, glaring. “I assure you, my daughter is mistaken. She has earned great honor among us with her deeds, but at great cost. She needs rest. After she has had time to heal, she can reveal the true will of the Ancestors.”

That calmed people down, and many nodded eagerly, but then Aiden broke away from his band, his smile and laughter gone, replaced by a look of grave certainty.

“She is not wrong,” he said, leaping up onto the bench, and then hauled Kestrel up to stand at his side.

“I will hear no more of this nonsense!” Matthias bellowed. “Both of you, get down from there!”

Kestrel moved to obey, but Aiden held her in place. “What do you fear, father? What do any of you fear?” he asked, sweeping his gaze over the villagers.

“The living cannot fight evil spirits! It is madness!” One-Ear Tom declared, earning a few calls of agreement.

Aiden spoke up. “Who are any of us to refute the will of the Ancestors?”

“We are not
refuting
the Ancestors,” Matthias said, “only the words of a girl who barely made it back to the village alive, and who is obviously still suffering from her trials.”

“This
suffering girl
beat me in a fair contest,” Aiden retorted, lifting his chin to show the red mark on his neck, then turning to display the blood beginning to dry on the back of his shaved scalp. He did not need to add that beating him was no small feat. Everyone knew it, and Kestrel could see the renewed flashes of wonder in their eyes when they glanced her way.

Despite a surge of pride at what she had done, she knew her brother had planned everything that had happened tonight, even if she could not guess why. Aiden went on.

“What Kes
saw
is exactly what the Ancestors
showed
her, and only fools and cowards would dare balk at the will of those who watch over and guide us. I am neither a fool nor a coward. Nor is my sister. My hope,” he finished, his gray eyes touching each face, “is that none of you are, either.”

A chorus of affirming yells went up, but halfhearted at best. No one wanted to be counted a fool or a coward, but it was also apparent that none of them could understand why the Ancestors would have them make war against the Tall Ones, a terrible enemy that even the crazed Black Ears avoided.

“Even if this is the will of the Ancestors,” Matthias said slowly, “the Elders and the Warchiefs must discuss this matter further, unless—” his eyes shifted to Kestrel “—the Ancestors gave you a strategy?”

Kestrel looked upon her father and her brother, the other Elders and Warchiefs, then the expectant faces of her people. She felt caught in a rushing stream, tumbled and turned, her mouth and throat filling with thick, muddy water. She wished she could begin the day over—truth told, she wished she could turn back time to the moment she had first stepped out of the village to begin her hunt for the Kill. But such ability was beyond her, so all she could do was shake her head.

“Very well,” Matthias continued. “For now, we will feast in honor of our newest Red Hand, Kestrel, my daughter.”

The villagers leaped at this opportunity, as if they had been waiting for a way to escape the discussion. Kestrel watched them break quickly into chattering groups. Just short of running, they dispersed across the knoll, torches bouncing in their hands, the children darting and laughing, unaware of what all the fuss was about, all heading to the edge of the clearing where food and firewood had been stored earlier in preparation for the feast. Even the Warchiefs fled, leaving only the Elders, Kestrel, and her brother.

“Father,” Aiden called. “If we deny the will of the Ancestors, no matter what our hearts tell us is the right thing to do, it will, in time, ruin the faith of our people.”

Matthias studied his son for a long time before speaking. “The moment you became a Warchief, you have wanted to attack the Tall Ones.” Learning that the Elders had known all along of Aiden’s plan made Kestrel feel as if someone had clubbed her, but Matthias was not finished. “I find it troubling that now your sister claims the same.”

“It is not her
claim
,” Aiden corrected. He glanced her way, his expression unreadable. “Or am I wrong?”

Kestrel hesitated. Earlier she had believed the Ancestors had shown her a vision about how to overcome her brother … but what if they really wanted her to join Aiden? Before she could make sense of all that had happened, let alone find a way to say it, her father spoke again.

“We will discuss this later,” Matthias said.

“We can discuss it all we want,” Aiden countered, “but we cannot deceive ourselves. Our future is war, as decreed by the Ancestors.”

“No one is deceiving themselves,” Matthias said, sounding doubtful. “Now, go join the feast.”

If there was any doubt that he was finished discussing the issue, he abruptly joined his peers and together they moved away with their heads bent together. One-Ear Tom glanced at Kestrel once, his features unreadable. Kestrel knew the Elders would gather after the feast and argue long into the night.

She scowled at her brother. “What are you playing at?”

He favored her with his usual sneer. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Why did you really help me against the Stone Dogs?”

“Can’t a brother aid his sister?”

“You never have before! Besides that, you were not supposed to help me. It is forbidden. You were supposed to observe, nothing more.”

He shrugged. “I’ve known for some time that I needed someone else to help me convince the Elders, as well as our people, about what they must do. Then I looked at the least likely person …
you
.”

Kestrel’s frustration mounted to the point that her head felt ready to burst. “What does that mean?”

“You heard father. I’ve been trying to convince the Elders how dangerous the Tall Ones are since I became a Warchief. They listened to my warnings, then they made excuses, sounding wise and reasoned. But I know the real reason they hesitate—they are cowards. I had no choice but to use
you
to help me bring them around, and the Bone Tree ceremony was the best time to do that.”

Kestrel narrowed her eyes. “The only way I could help is if you knew what the Ancestors would show me.” She hesitated. “
Did
you know?”

Aiden laughed. “You really believe I’m so favored?” His smug expression suggested that he believed he should be. “No, Kes, I didn’t know what they would reveal, any more than you could have known. My plans had nothing to do with the Ancestors. I only intended to make you into a champion, someone who could rival even me, and then convince you to help me stir everyone else to action.”

“I would never have agreed to help you do that!”

“Of course you wouldn’t have—not my precious little sister! But when you grew feverish, I saw an opportunity to turn you into my champion by going back and retrieving the Stone Dog’s head. It was a gamble, I admit, and there at the end when Father brought both skulls out of the box, I thought sure my gamble had failed. I was certain you would tell everyone that this entire ceremony had been a farce. But you kept quiet.”