Dindi
Each breath hurt.
Voices in the darkness had been saying for a while that it felt hard to breathe, ever since the stone was rolled over the exit. But now it was no longer just fear or imagination. The air smelled bad. Thick. Rotten. Heavy.
Dindi had thought they would die of thirst first. But now it seemed lack of air would kill them before anything else.
No one could pretend anymore. They had been left here. To die.
Someone started crying. Soft, sad sobs. No one told them to stop. No one whispered, Hush. There was no reason to hide sadness now.
What had happened to the Tavaedies? Were they dead—killed in battle or fallen to some sickness? Or had they chosen to give up the Initiates—to trade their lives to the Deathsworn for some dark reason?
All these ideas had already been shared. Argued. Changed. Nothing had been proven. They still knew nothing.
Except that they were dying.
"Dindi, I don't feel well," said Gwenika. Her voice was weak. Slow. Frightening.
"You have to hold on," Dindi told her quickly.
"I don't think I can." Gwenika's voice grew even softer. "I'm not sure I want to. I'm so tired of fighting. I just want to let go."
She sounded peaceful now, and that scared Dindi more than anything. She shook Gwenika.
"No! You can't rest! If you fall asleep, you'll never wake up!"
"If only we could hibernate like bears…" Gwenika's voice faded to nothing.
"Gwenika? Gwenika!" Dindi cried out.
No answer.
She held Gwenika's body in her arms. It was still warm, but limp. Too still.
Dindi felt so tired herself. So heavy. Like a weight was pulling her down. The same tiredness that had taken Gwenika away was creeping over her too.
Hibernation. That word echoed in her mind. It made her think of something—a trance.
Her fingers closed around the corncob doll that hung on the ribbon around her neck.
Every time I go into the Visions of the corncob doll, time moves strangely. What if I could use it again? But that would only help me. What about Gwenika?
Can I share it?
She didn't know.
But she knew one thing: if she did nothing, they would all die.
Share! she told the doll silently. Share with us all!
The Vision appeared. It spread around her like light over shadows. Dindi could still see the real world, but now it felt distant—blended with the world of the Vision. She sat between the two.
The Vision stretched as far as Gwenika.
Dindi pushed, with her thoughts. Further.
The Vision light billowed. More of the children around her, still awake, blinked in surprise as the glow touched them too.
She was afraid to push too hard. What if she broke the spell? But she also feared that the ones not touched by it would die while time ticked away for them—while they breathed their last breaths.
Further! she begged. Share with us all!
The Vision burst outward.
And exploded.
***
Vessia
Vessia followed the group from the Tor of the Sun without being seen. The plan was for both sides to send groups to meet at the Tor of the Stone Hedge, the stone circle built on top of a man-made hill. No one noticed her—not even War Chief Hertio, or her friend Danumoro, or any of the Tavaedies or warriors—because she stayed in the shadows, hiding behind the stones. The giant stones stood in three rings, each inside the next, like guards watching the hill. They were tall, wider than grown men, and made of dark rock. They made good hiding places.
Inside the center circle, two half-moons of rugs had been laid out. Each group stood on one side. Food was placed between them in baskets on mats. Only Tavaedies and Zavaedies had come, and they all wore their full robes and masks.
Vessia knew about this secret meeting because of a fight between Danu and Hertio. Danu had told Hertio not to wear so much gold and not to show off their tribe's wealth. But Hertio had laughed and said, "I won't go dressed like a beggar."
Now Hertio's outfit made noise as he walked. His clothes were covered in gold disks that jingled like birds pecking at trees. Across from him, the enemy leader wore a robe made of fox tails that smelled like musk. His mask was a wooden foot stepping on a white skull. With their tall masks, both men looked like giants.
Vessia held her breath. Were they going to fight?
Then, the man in gold—Hertio—went down to his knees in front of the man in white. The Yellow Bear watchers groaned. They didn't say anything out loud, but Vessia felt their shame like an earthquake in her chest.
Hertio bowed lower, so low that his mask touched the grass.
The man in white raised his foot and stepped on Hertio's neck.
Then he removed his mask. "I spare your life and your tribehold in the name of my master, the Bone Whistler," he said.
Vessia froze. She knew him. It was the prisoner with the handsome face—Vio the Skull Stomper.
Hertio left his mask in the grass and stood. Without the mask, he looked small. The gold outfit now looked silly, like a child wearing his father's clothes. He walked back to his side of the circle, looking ashamed.
The Tavaedies on both sides removed their masks and sat down to eat. On the Yellow Bear side, people ate slowly and without joy. They only took small bites, just enough to avoid being rude. On the Rainbow Labyrinth side, the Tavaedies laughed and stuffed their mouths, telling jokes in voices too quiet for the Yellow Bear to hear.
Standing beside Vio were two other men. One was taller and thinner, with the same handsome face—his brother, maybe. The other was shorter and stronger, with thick muscles but not much beauty. All three were younger than most Zavaedies in Yellow Bear. Vessia remembered what Danumoro had said: The Bone Whistler's army is young because the elders refused to serve him.
Vio stood and spoke loudly.
"I am Vio the Skull Stomper, Purple Zavaedi to the Bone Whistler of the Rainbow Labyrinth. This is my brother Vumo, the One-Horned Aurochs, the Green Zavaedi, and my friend Gidio the Bull, the Red Zavaedi. We speak for our War Chief, the Bone Whistler."
"We know who you are, Skull Stomper," Hertio said. "What does your master want?"
Vio smiled and leaned back like he was at home.
"As you know, the Rainbow Labyrinth suffered many plagues some years ago. My master ended the plagues. But he did more than that. He found the cause of the sickness. Imorvae witches had used evil spells to curse our people. So my master promised to destroy all of them."
"We also had problems with our crops and animals," Hertio replied. "But we didn't blame people. We didn't blame any kind of magic."
"You were wrong," said Vio calmly. "The Many-Banded Imorvae were guilty. Some of them escaped my master's cleansing."
He looked straight at Danumoro.
He knows, Vessia thought. He knows Danumoro is one of the escaped Imorvae.
For some reason, that thought made her feel afraid.
"I'll ask again," Hertio said stiffly. "What does your master want?"