Two Rivers (17 page)

She pressed her lips tight. “Oh, and you know all about
resisting your clan’s will, don’t you?”

He shrugged, glancing back at the shelter the narrow corridor
of poles provided. What were they doing here in the cold, arguing about stupid
things?

She suppressed another sob. “You can’t tell me what to do, as
though you know better. You are of my age, and you are anything but the most
esteemed member of the community.”

She took a step forward and stood next to him, challenging,
looking anything but the strict, always groomed and well-behaved girl she was.
He stared at her, speechless.

“Why aren’t you saying something?” she demanded, her voice
beginning to tremble again. “Tell me more about how I should be behaving. You
know all about the proper ways, don’t you?”

He could almost feel her, so close she stood, and he clenched
his fists tight against the urge to grab her shoulders. To shake her back into
sanity, or maybe, to press her to his chest and take some of her pain away.

He watched her twisted face, remembering the words of the
condoling song -
wipe away the tears, cleanse your throat so you may speak
and hear, restore the heart to its right place, and remove the clouds from the
sun in the sky
. Would it help to tell her any of this now?

“You should go back and join the ceremonies,” he said tiredly.
“They will know the right words to tell you.”

“And you?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Can’t you tell those
words to me now?”

The knot tightening in his throat was difficult to swallow this
time. “No, I can’t. I don’t know these words.” He took a deep breath. “My
father refused to listen when it was his time to grieve, so I didn’t listen,
too.”

She peered at him wide-eyed. “You lost your mother,” she
whispered, making it a statement.

He shrugged, finding it safer to keep his lips pressed tight.

“Oh!” She reached out, touching his face lightly. “I didn’t
know. I’m sorry.”

Her fingers were like a soft breeze, brushing against his face,
sending shivers down his spine.

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen, I saw fifteen summers.” He heard his voice low but
firm, and it pleased him.

“Fifteen summers?” She leaned back, studying his face, her eyes
narrow and attentive. “But it was when you… when you came here. You were
fifteen summers old, weren’t you?”

He just shrugged, wishing to talk about anything but this.

“So it happened just before that.” Another firm statement. She
was coming to her conclusions fast. “And your father? What happened to him?”

“Forget it,” he said, this time his voice wavering, dangerously
close to breaking. “Nothing happened to anyone. I don’t remember my previous
life. It never happened.”

But her palm was again sliding down his cheek, warm and dry,
her fingers lingering, barely touching, but leaving their prints nevertheless.
He could draw the lines where they passed, he knew.

“I’m sorry. I should never have said what I said before. But I
do feel your sadness now. I can feel it so clearly, and I wish I could take
this burden away.”

Her face shone at him, beautiful in a breathtaking way,
ethereal, but also belonging to a human girl, its warmth tangible, within an
arm's reach. She was no
uki
. The warmth of her body told him this.

His hands came up on their own accord, taking hold of her
shoulders, pulling her closer, desperate to feel her warmth, that wonderful,
kind, supporting glow that her whole being seemed to radiate, taking the edge
of the desperation away, softening it, making it possible to deal with.

She did not resist, but kept peering at him, almost the same
height as he was, wide-eyed, surprised. He stared into her face, mesmerized.
Her lips were slightly opened, as though expectant. He just had to taste them,
no matter what.

It was like lightning in the middle of the storm, those fierce
flashes of energy going through his body, setting it on fire. Her lips parted,
soft and pleasant, pressing to his, making the fire so much worse, the storm impossible
to control, his limbs weak, his body drained of power but invincible too,
relishing the feel of her body against his, demanding to have more of her
warmth.

Another heartbeat of this and she turned her face away, trying
to break free from his embrace, but although knowing that he had to let her go,
his arms went rigid around her, not responding to the feeble attempts of his
mind to take control.

She pushed him away again, but just as he managed to unlock his
arms, she leaned forward, and he felt her arms sneaking around him, hurting the
cuts upon his chest, facing him again, eyes shining, their glow stronger now,
the eyes of a Sky Woman.

“We shouldn’t do it,” she whispered, her breath brushing
against his face. “It’s not right.”

He just nodded, unable to form words, feeling his mind going
blank again. This time the kiss was even fiercer, the largest thunderstorm
since the beginning of time, since the earth had been created by water animals
and birds.

He stared at her, breathing heavily, seeing the uncertainly in
her eyes, and the fear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know we should not.”

Another impossible attempt to let her go. If only she would
help. But instead, she leaned against him heavily, as though having no power
left, too. If he took a step back, she might fall, he thought randomly.

The wind swirled around them, in a fiercer mood than before. He
felt her shivering, and it gave him strength to pull them both into the
protective screen behind the poles.

“The Master of the Winds is angry,” she whispered, then giggled
and nestled against his chest, seemingly comfortable under the protection of
his arms, her fear and uncertainty gone. “He thinks it’s wrong, too.”

“Yes, I suppose.” He tried to concentrate, her nearness
disrupting his thoughts. It was not funny. He needed all his strength to just
hold her, to keep his arms from wandering her body, and it made him angry,
somehow.

As if sensing his tension, she hesitated, then slipped out of
his arms, light and pliant, again in perfect control. Leaning against the
opposite row of poles, she regarded him with a glittering glance.

“It was insane, wasn’t it?”

He just nodded, his disappointment vast. To hold her close,
even if not allowed to do more, was better than to have her standing on the
other side of the corridor.

“We can’t do this.”

“I know.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

He could feel her searching gaze, peering at him through the
darkness.

“Yes, you are.” She took a step forward and was again close
enough for him to see the outline of her delicate face. “There are things
people are not supposed to do unless they are older and want to live together.
I know some boys and girls are doing it anyway, but this is wrong, you see?
This is silly and not appropriate. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I was not trying to get you into doing anything.
It just happened.”

“But you’ve been looking for me?” She was not smiling anymore,
and her sincerity made him feel dirty, guilty of every crime possible, most of
all of trying to seduce her.

“No, I wasn’t! I was on my way out. I would never think that
you, or anyone else, would be hiding here, of all places.”

“I was not hiding here. I just wanted to be alone.” She
frowned. “And why would you go out at night? It doesn’t make sense.”

He said nothing, watching her, his heart still pounding.

“You are not telling me the truth.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then tell me why?”

“I was looking for Two Rivers.”

“Oh.” All of a sudden, she looked disappointed, offended even.
“At night? Outside? You are talking nonsense.” Impatiently, she shook her head.
“What do you want with this man, anyway?”

“I needed to tell him something.” He pressed his lips, hating
the acute sensation of being guilty, as though caught doing something wrong.
“He is a good man. He was kind to me. There is nothing wrong in seeking his
company.”

“He is not a good man. He is responsible for what happened to
our warriors.”

“What? He is not!”

“Of course he is. He participated in the War Dance, then did
not join the raid. It brought the wrath of the Evil Twin and his minions upon
our men. Those who were brave enough to join, that is.”

He gasped at the wildness of her accusation. “He is a brave
man. And he didn’t join because he wanted to help me hunt the bear.”

“Which he made you challenge in the first place,” she stated,
tossing her head to banish the tendrils fluttering across her face. “He made
you risk your life in order to avoid going with our warriors. He used you.
Can’t you see it?”

He peered at her, aghast. “He didn’t use me. He helped me! He
helped me to gain respect of the people, to make them treat me differently. He
said it would happen, and it did. Maybe not your clan, but the people of my
clan are respecting me now.”

“That is because you did a very brave thing. You killed the
grizzled brown bear, and from a short distance, too. Of course they respect you
now, as they ought. You proved your worth.” She leaned closer and was facing
him again, eyes frowning. “You did it and not him. He just made you take the
challenge, and then he came along, to see what would happen. That’s all he did.
This man is strange, and he cares about no one but himself and his strange,
perverted ideas.”

“No, Seketa, no. You are wrong.” He threw his arms in the air,
as though trying to push away her accusations. “He is none of this. He guided
me all the way, explaining and teaching me. He taught me so many things! And
yes, his ideas are strange, but maybe he is right about them, too. When you
talk to him, some of what he says makes sense.”

“He made you go after that bear, a youth of seventeen summers,”
she said stubbornly, eyeing him under her eyebrows. “It is unheard of. You
could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t, I wasn’t killed. I killed the bear instead, and
I would never have managed without him. It was such a huge monster, you should
have seen it. Twice a man’s height and so wide and old and angry. And stinking,
too. Oh gods, it had such a foul smell.” He took a deep breath, his stomach
squeezing at the mere memory. “I would never have managed but for Two Rivers
and the things he taught me while we were preparing the trap. He told me so much.
And he believed in me, too. He knew I would manage, and I’m telling you, it
gave me more strength.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How did it feel to face the
monster? Weren’t you afraid?”

“It was not that bad.” For the life of him, he could not admit
the deep, paralyzing fear he'd felt, its memory painfully fresh, squeezing his
insides. “They don’t see well, so I could dash here and there, and shoot at my
leisure. Maybe if this bear were younger, more agile, I would need to work
harder, but with this one, it was not much of a challenge.”

Now even her mouth was opened and gaping. “Was it not scary at
all?”

“No, not really.” He smiled smugly. “It’s just the matter of a
good shot and then some playing around. I probably should have gone on shooting
it, but I thought it would be amusing to finish the fight face-to-face, to give
the old giant an honorable death.” He eyed her, feeling superior and very
pleased with himself. “Two Rivers said it was quite a sight. He said he hadn’t
seen anything like that, ever. And not anyone he knew of.”

Now he had taken it too far. Her eyes narrowed and her lips
pressed, challenging.

“He did claw you,” she said. “Quite tore at your chest.”

Involuntarily, he brought his palm up, feeling the crusts.
“Well, yes, of course. He was not a rabbit.”

“So it was not such an easy fight,” she stated, triumphant, as
though proving him wrong.

“Well, no. But it was not that difficult either.” Angry with
himself for letting his pride show, he shrugged. “There is no shame in bearing
these marks. I did kill him face-to-face, and that’s what matters.”

She acknowledged it with a nod. “Yes, of course.” Then her eyes
lost their challenging glint. “I asked the Great Spirits to keep you safe. I
made an offering when it was the third day of your journey.”

“You did?” His stomach tightened so strongly, he found it
difficult to breathe. “Why?”

Now it was her turn to shrug as she turned away, peering into
the darkness of the corridor behind their backs.

He moved closer, desperate to feel her warmth. “What did you
offer?”

“There was this bracelet,” she whispered shyly, but he could
hear a smile in her voice. “It was small, and I never wore it anyway.”

His heart was making strange leaps inside his chest, tossing
itself against his ribs. “The Great Spirits liked it. They gave me great
victory, and now I know why.” Unable to keep his hands from doing this, he put
them around her shoulders. “I wish I could let you know how grateful I am.”

“It was not my offering,” she said, and he could feel her
shuddering under his touch. “It was your bravery and your determination.”

“No. I was not brave. I lied before. I was too scared to shoot
at it until it was very close.”

She giggled. “I would think so. I don’t know any hunter who
would challenge the great grizzled bear face-to-face.” Still chuckling, she
turned back and faced him, so close again he could feel her breath upon his
face. “But it doesn’t matter. You went to hunt the forest giant, and you killed
it in a close duel, like no other man of our town. You are brave, and you are
strong and determined. Even if you do know what fear is.” Her smile beamed at
him through the darkness. “I’m glad I offered the bracelet. Next time, I’ll
offer something more precious. The first time you go in a battle I’ll offer my
most precious of possessions.”

The knot in his throat was difficult to swallow. “Will you?” He
swallowed again, hearing his voice coming out strange, low and distorted. “Will
you be my woman when I've proved myself, when I’m good enough to ask your Clan
Mothers?”