Dindi
Another week of travel brought them at last to Yellow Bear Tribehold.
Standing on a ridge above the valley, Dindi rocked back on her heels. She had seen this place before—through Vessia's eyes. Maybe the leaves under her feet hid skulls from the Bone Whistler's army.
Abiono pointed to five tall hills in the river valley below.
"The Tors of Yellow Bear," he said. "Hertio the Mound Builder, War Chief of the Yellow Bear tribe, has promised the tribe's leaders that he will build seven Tors in total. He's spent many years growing the tribehold. His dream is to make Yellow Bear as great as Rainbow Labyrinth."
"Is that possible?" asked Tamio. His pride was stung.
Abiono shrugged. "He's added two Tors in twenty-two years. But he's old now, and was supposed to step down as War Chief a year ago. It depends on whether the next War Chief wants to finish the work."
Dindi shivered. Hertio the Mound Builder.
In Vessia's time, only three Tors had existed: the Tor of the Sun, the Tor of the Moon, and the Tor of the Stone Hedge. The fourth and fifth hills were newer—only as old as the Initiates.
The Tor of the Stone Hedge had no houses, only three great circles of standing stones. Even from far away, it looked dark and old. It had looked ancient even in Vessia's Vision.
Until now, Dindi had thought Vessia lived long ago, in a time of legends—before the war between humans and Aelfae.
But now she realized: She had only lived twenty years ago.
Vessia might still be alive. I might meet her.
The size of the tribehold sank in slowly. It took half a day just to cross the river and its fields. They climbed the hill beside an unfinished mound. This fourth settlement looked different. The houses were not beehives—they were longhouses laid out in neat rows across the top of the flat hill.
As they walked the narrow path up into the hold, Dindi saw why. No normal families lived here.
The people who came out to meet them were other Initiates and Tavaedies.
Hundreds of children had gathered for Initiation. Most were from Yellow Bear, but some were from Rainbow Labyrinth too.
The Tavaedies sorted the children into longhouses by age and gender.
Jensi, Gwena, and Kemla were placed in Fourth House.
Dindi and Gwenika were placed in Ninth House.
Even though they had only known each other a week, that felt like a long time now. Gwenika stayed close to Dindi's side, like they were clan sisters.
The longhouses had no beds, just dirt floors and reed mats. Each girl claimed a space along one of the walls and marked it with her basket. Dindi and Gwenika made a small bed out of cloth scraps for Puddlepaws, but he sniffed it once and curled up right in the middle of Dindi's mat.
The yeech had left Gwenika alone for the last week of travel, but the day after they arrived, the sickness came back. She broke out in a rash and fever.
While the other Initiates explored the tribehold, Dindi stayed with her. She wiped Gwenika's forehead with a damp cloth and brewed her tea. Thankfully, Gwenika's grandmother had packed the healing leaves in her basket.
"I don't know why Gwena hates me so much," Gwenika whispered.
"Shhh," said Dindi, dabbing her face. "Try to rest."
The mention of Gwena made Dindi think of the corncob doll. The doll was dangerous. Every time she touched it, the Visions returned. But how could she protect herself from it? She couldn't just throw it away…
"They're coming for me again," Gwenika murmured. "The yeech."
The ugly Yellow fae rode rats. The rats crawled along the beams in the roof above them. A line of them crept down a wooden post toward the girls.
Unlike most fae, the yeech didn't want to be seen. If Dindi looked straight at them, she saw only the roof and post. But if she tilted her head just right, she saw flickers of movement, like light in the corner of her eye.
"They're following something," said Dindi. "It looks like a rope of yellow light leading to you."
Gwenika bit her lip. She had already guessed that.
Then she blinked. "You can see them too?"
"Only a little—like a flickering candle. Do you want more tea?"
Dindi poured some into a bowl, but Gwenika pushed it away.
"No. It's too bitter." Suddenly, she sat up and grabbed Dindi's wrist. "What if I've been wrong? What if it wasn't Gwena? What if it was my grandmother?"
"Why would your grandmother hex you?"
"She and my mother always argued. My grandmother didn't want both of us to become Tavaedies. One was enough, she said. What if she didn't want to kill me—just stop me from being chosen?"
Dindi thought about it. "Maybe we can follow the yellow light. See where it leads."
"Yes!" Gwenika bit her lip. "Unless it leads to a horrible troll as tall as a tree."
"If a troll eats a sick person," Dindi asked, "does the troll get sick too?"
"I'd rather not find out."
The yellow light wound around Gwenika's body like ropes. Dindi focused on her aura, remembering what she'd seen in the Vision.
They followed the thickest cord of light up the post and across the ceiling. Gwenika saw it more clearly. Dindi only saw a flicker. They had to climb into the wooden beams of the lodge.
"Are you sure you can do this?" Dindi asked.
"This will probably kill me," Gwenika said. "There's still time to stop me."
They crept along the beams. The golden rope led down, across the floor, and back up into the rafters again.
"This fiend is clever," Gwenika huffed. "She's leading us in circles!"
"Gwenika—" Dindi stopped so fast that Gwenika bumped into her.
"Don't you see? The light is coming from you. That's why we're going in circles. Your aura is glowing so brightly, it's attracting the yeech. You hexed yourself!"
She gently put her hands on Gwenika's shoulders. That was where the cords of light were thickest.
The aura twisted under her touch. Dindi noticed there were other colors too—slivers of blue, green, and red—hidden under the gold.
As she moved her hands, those colors grew stronger. The yellow ropes weakened and fell away.
The yeech howled in frustration. Without the light to follow, they couldn't move closer. Hissing, they scurried away into the shadows.
Gwenika pulled away. "Leave me alone! If you didn't believe me, you could've just said so. You pretended to help me—then blamed me. You sound like my mother!"
"Maybe your mother is right. You need to figure out what you're doing and stop it. I'd be heartbroken if I missed my chance to become a Tavaedi. I don't want that to happen to you."
"I hope I'm not chosen." Gwenika clenched her fists. "All my life, it's all I've heard. You have to be a Tavaedi. You have to be a Tavaedi. I'm sick of it!"
Then she gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh!"