Hand of the Hunter

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Master was gone. his spear, his wolves, the raven, the owl, and serpent… all gone. Hweilan was alone, kneeling in the wet leaves over the dead body of her friend. She was too stunned to weep.

How long she kneeled there, staring down at the bloody corpse, she could not remember. The river rolled on, the thunder of the falls unending. The mist gathered on Hweilan, and on Ashiin's corpse, soaking them. Late in the morning, thick clouds gathered overhead, and a heavy rain pelted the forest, washing Hweilan's tears into the mud.

Hweilan heard footsteps slushing through the muck behind her, but she did not turn to look. They stopped just behind her.

"Stupid girl."

Gleed's voice, words spoken with equal parts sympathy and exasperation.

"Go away," said Hweilan.

"You have no reason to cry."

"Everyone I've ever cared about is dead."

"Well, thank you," said Gleed, all sarcasm.

"You know what I meant."

"I know that, yet again, if you'd stop to think"-he whacked her across the back with his staff-"you'd have no reason to feel sorry for yourself. We are not murderers, Hweilan. You passed that test today, girl. Please tell me you understood what you did."

Hweilan whirled on Gleed, fury in her eyes. "She's dead, Gleed! The Master killed her right in front of me!"

Gleed smacked her with the staff again. "Ashiin gave her body. For you. She told you that to awaken the bow, to call your ally, would require sacrifice. Did she not?"

Hweilan's fury and grief faded, as if washed away by the rain. "You mean…?"

"I mean you need to get off your knees and be the Hand," said Gleed. "For yourself, for Ashiin, and for your world."

Gleed led her to the height where she had first seen the Witness Cloud. He summoned one of the creatures of mud and vines that had first carried Hweilan to his tower, and the thing bore Ashiin's lifeless body behind them.

At the summit, in the midst of a circle of ash, lay Hweilan's bow. The rain had not slackened, still coming down in a torrent, and there were no trees for shelter, but the ground inside the circle was dry as old bones, and the pale wood of the bow seemed to sparkle under the light of an invisible sun.

Gleed stopped and turned to face Hweilan. "I will instruct you in what to do," he said, "but you must do it. You are the Hand, and you owe your friend the work of your hands."

He spoke a string of arcane words and waved his free hand in an intricate gesture. The vaguely human-shaped mass of vines and mud holding Ashiin melted back into the earth, leaving the corpse of Hweilan's friend lying on the ground.

"Gather wood," said Gleed. "Enough for a pyre. Pile it in the circle on top of the bow."

Hweilan's jaw opened and her eyes went wide. After all she'd lost" Don't worry," said Gleed. "Inside the sacred circle, not even a dragon's fire could harm that bow. Now do as I say."

Hweilan obeyed, returning to the nearby woods to gather dead wood by the armload. She piled them atop the bow, then returned for more. After at least a dozen trips, she had a large pile, filling the circle.

"Now green," said Gleed. "Cut fresh branches for her bier."

Hweilan did so, using her knife to cut large pine branches and smaller, softer shoots off the oaks. She didn't know if this was proper for the rite, but it felt like the right thing to do. Returning to the circle, she made a thick bed of the pines, then lay the softer oak sprigs on top.

"Well done," said Gleed. "Now, take your steel and cut nine strands from Ashiin's hair. No more. No less. Nine strands."

Hweilan kneeled beside Ashiin's corpse. Her eyes were still open, and the rain had pooled there, overflowing down the sides of her face. There was no illusion of tears. Tears came from the living. Seeing those dead eyes…

Hweilan clenched her jaw, took a deep breath, and gently closed Ashiin's eyes. The dead flesh under her fingertips…

She withdrew her hand, and found it was shaking.

She took the longest of Ashiin's braids, cut the bands of leather and thread binding them, and began to gently comb out the hair with her fingers. It was wet and heavy, and the scent of Ashiin that wafted up from it made Hweilan choke back a sob. She chose nine of the longest strands and sliced them off.

"Let me hold them," said Gleed, "while you place her on the pyre."

Hweilan did so. She could feel the heavy, dead weight of her friend, but she had no trouble lifting the corpse. Whatever strength Nendawen had given her, it was still there. Hweilan crossed one of Ashiin's ankles over the other, put both hands over the bloody gaping hole in her middle, then spread her braids over the bier. By the time Hweilan was finished, her shirt and both hands were coated in her friend's cold blood.

"Step back," said Gleed.

She did, and he began a long prayer. Much of it was similar to the prayers Lendri had said when they had burned Scith's body, but Gleed also recounted Ashiin's deeds, her lineage, and her sacrifice. He spoke many other words besides, in his own language, and although Hweilan could not understand them, she was surprised to hear the affection in their tone. Gleed and Ashiin had never had a kind word to say about each other, although Hweilan had often sensed a grudging respect between them. Perhaps that was what she heard in his tone.

Finished, Gleed raised his staff, green fire already gathered there, and spoke a word of command. Flames roared to life in the wood. Not green, but scarlet red-the color of the Fox. So intense was the heat that Hweilan was forced to step back farther. Rain evaporated before it could strike the pyre, and soon the entire hilltop was enveloped in a cloud of steam.

"Now," said Gleed, turning back to Hweilan, "weave three braids with the nine strands of Ashiin's hair. Blessed, these shall be your bowstrings. Weave them with devotion and love. Honor her memory, and these strings will never fail you."

By the time she'd finished and bound the final hoop in the third bowstring, Hweilan could feel the power in the three strands. Ashiin's hair, still just a shade above black, now had a crimson cast to it, as if the blood coating Hweilan's hands had worked its way into the strings as she wove them.

Together, she and Gleed stood, watching the flames consume Ashiin. Hweilan remembered her teacher, and remembered all her other teachers and friends. This was only the second pyre she'd watched burn, but the list of her beloved dead seemed to be growing all the time. The pyre collapsed with a crack and roar, sending thousands of orange sparks dancing into the sky. If she counted all of her ancestors who had been killed by Jagun Ghen, there might not be enough sparks for each to have one. And as the flames burned lower, Hweilan felt her rage growing again.

The rain and flames stopped at almost the same time. A wind came out of the west, setting the trees to dancing and blowing away the cloud cover. The sun was already low in the sky, and it bathed the hilltop in orange dusklight.

They waited, watching the smoldering ashes. When the first stars made their appearance in the east, Gleed motioned at the remains of the pyre with his staff.

"Retrieve your bow-and what is left of your friend."

Hweilan looked down at him. "Left?"

"You will see."

Hweilan stepped into the sacred circle. The ashes were still warm, but not hot enough to burn as she pawed through them. She saw something pale, and her first thought was-bone-but that was foolish. Fresh bone was not so pale and would've burned in the fire. It was her bow, and as she pulled it from the ashes, she saw that Gleed had spoken truly. It was completely unharmed. Not a scorch mark. Even the ashes fell away from its surface.

And there, lying in the open area from which she'd taken the bow, lay a skull. Much darker than the wood of her bow, it was equally unscathed by the fire, but it still had the dark tone of fresh bone. It was not human, nor was it a fox, but seemed something in between, as if the sacred flames had blended Ashiin's two natures into one. It felt warm under her touch, but not from the fire. With her new senses, Hweilan could feel the life in the skull.

"Ashiin?" Hweilan whispered.

"Bring them, Hweilan," Gleed called.

She walked out of the ashes, carrying her bow in one hand and her friend's skull in the other. Gleed sat inside another, smaller circle nearby, his staff across his lap. She sat opposite him inside the circle.

"Shesteh you have made," said Gleed, pointing at the bow. Then he pointed at the skull. "Now, finish them."

Gleed instructed her as she used the tip of the red knife to carve matching shesteh into the surface of the skull. With every etching, some of the living blood inside the knife seeped into the bone, mingling the life of Nendawen with the life of Ashiin.

When she had finished, Gleed said, "Now stand and string your bow, Hand of the Hunter."

He took the skull from her and held it reverently in both his hands. She looped one of the strings on the bottom of the bow, then planted it behind one ankle and in front of the other, just as her father had taught her. She grabbed the top of the bow and pulled. It bent in her hand. Not with ease. She had to put effort into it, but the bow bent to her will, and she fitted the other loop over the bow. Releasing it, the bow bent under its own strength, pulling the string taut, and Hweilan felt a tremor pass through it.

She held it in one hand, and in that moment all she could think of was her father and mother.

Gleed held up the skull to her, and she saw that he had fitted a series of woven bands across the back and bottom, so that it formed a mask.

"Don your helm, Hand of the Hunter," he said.

She did. It fit her head perfectly, almost like a second skin, and as its warmth settled onto her, she felt the presence inside it settle into her mind.

Hweilan sent out her own thought-Ashiin…?

But whatever was left of Ashiin had no voice. Only the cunning of the Fox remained. Through the mask's eyes, Hweilan's sight seemed more focused, as if Ashiin herself pointed out the stir of leaves, the sound of Gleed's breath, the last cracklings of the fire were all distractions. When something small and furred leaped from one pine tree to the next, Hweilan's eyes were already on it, expecting its movement.

Thank you, Hweilan thought, her heart aching.

"I'm ready," said Hweilan, surprised.

"Not yet," said Gleed. "There is one more thing you need."