Fionchadd! There was something about the Faery, something Alec was supposed to do. He frowned, straining his memory—and pain exploded in his head. Eva’s face once more swam into his vision, only this time she looked terribly serious.
Maybe David is
not
your friend,
she was saying.
Would a true friend treat you so? And this Calvin is certainly not, for he builds barriers where none existed. As for the boy whom you name Fionchadd, I have met his kind before and they are not to be trusted. He is the heart of the problem, for he is the source of the strangeness, him and all his kind. If you would have David once more be your friend, you must remove Fionchadd’s folk forever.
Alec winced, shook his head, tried to think straight, to banish the soft, insistent tones, yet the voice droned on:
Only by one means may Fionchadd come to the place he seeks, and if he does not come there, he will no longer trouble you. You have already told me how that is to be accomplished, and for that end I have prepared a counter. When the time comes, you will know what to do.
She pointed to the small dagger Alec somehow had in his hand.
Alec blinked, shook his head again. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t think what. There was something horribly different about Eva, she—she knew too much, he shouldn’t have been able to tell her about Fionchadd, about
the quest…God, his head hurt; he had to get away from
the pain,
had
to. He closed his eyes, and at once the agony left him. He dreamed once more.
And in the dream he crept out of his furs and slipped quietly across the sand to crouch beside Fionchadd. The Faery still slept, sprawled on his back, but Alec dared not trust his senses. He muttered a
Word
that came to him from somewhere, made a
Sign
he had no idea he knew, and paused, listening. The boy’s breathing did not alter. Fionchadd had put aside his weapons and the belt that held them, but still wore breeches and tunic. The latter had ridden up somewhat during the night, and Alec eased his hand beneath the rough wool and across the Faery’s belly until he found what he sought: the hard metal hilt of a dagger. Very slowly he removed it, all the while repeating the
Word,
then reached to his own waist, removed the dagger Eva had given him, and held the two side by side in the dim light. They were of similar size, and as he looked at them, his began to shimmer and twist, until an instant later it was a twin to Fionchadd’s. Fionchadd’s also changed, becoming a duplicate of Eva’s gift. This he stuck back in his sheath and as carefully as possible, slid the other back into Fionchadd’s keeping, and pulled his tunic back down.
Another
Word,
another
Sign,
and he returned to his bed.
Beside him David grunted and flopped onto his stomach. Alec smiled and rolled over as well. David’s breathing had become a sort of chant:
sleep deep, sleep deep—and forget.
The voice, he thought, was Eva’s. His hand curved around the hilt of his secret dagger, he too slept. And this time there was no dreaming.
Chapter XVII: The Great Uktena Hunt
(Galunlati—day two
—morning)
“God, I must have died last night.” Alec yawned from the entrance to the sleeping cavern. “Somebody point me to the john.”
David glanced up from the breakfast they had found spread for them in the (still snakeless) outer cavern: honey and acorn bread, with blackberries and strips of smoked fish. Alec certainly looked the worse for wear—as worn as David had ever seen him. His frazzled hair, wrinkled clothing, and the dark bags under his eyes gave the lie to his new Cherokee name. Smooth, he was not.
Calvin gestured over his shoulder toward the entrance to the gallery that led outside. “We peed in the falls.”
Alec grimaced wearily. “I don’t have to—oh, crap, never mind.”
“Exactly.” David laughed, as his friend stumbled toward the opening.
“Washed up there too,” Calvin called after.
“I do not understand the humor here,” Fionchadd muttered.
David scratched his chin and grinned. “Well, crap’s another word for—uh, you know…” He paused, looked at the Faery curiously. “Or do you?” he wondered aloud, then shrugged. “Well, all the parts are the same, anyway, so I’d guess that even you folk…”
“Yes?”
David rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, never mind—how ’bout passin’ me another bowl of berries?”
The next several minutes passed in relative silence as they availed themselves of Uki’s bounty, but eventually David’s impatience got the best of him. “Okay, Finno,” he said. “Any idea how to kill this uktena-beastie?”
The Faery’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully for a long moment. “I have been considering this,” he said finally. “I have hunted monsters before, of course: manticores and krakens, even a dragon or two, yet nothing like this. I will need to spy out the creature’s habits before I can choose a plan. It would be useful to speak to Uki, too. Do you know where our host might be?”
“If you’re talking about Mr. Thunder,” Alec said from the entrance, “he’s standing up top making signs in the air. Looks like it’s gonna rain down south, too.”
David and Calvin exchanged meaningful glances. “I guess we’re supposed to take his name literally.”
“I guess.”
Alec sauntered over, squatted beside David, and helped himself to a slice of bread and honey. His hair was dripping wet but had been combed carefully back. His shoulders and face were still damp. David chuckled to himself. Some things never changed, and one of them was Alec’s compulsive neatness.
“What about the snake ladies,
Edahi
?”
A shrug. “Haven’t seen ’em.”
“Regular foxes, though—if you can get by the wigs and the warpaint.”
“They’re tattoos,” Calvin corrected.
“Foxes?” Fionchadd wondered.
“A euphemism.”
“A what?”
“Never mind.”
“I cannot read the meaning in your mind in this country.”
“Really?”
Fionchadd nodded. “That seems to be one of the qualities of this place. This far from my own source of Power I grow weaker, and the heavy flesh of your World does not help.”
“The Lying World,” Alec inserted. “That’s what they call it here.”
“Wonder why?”
“Think about it.”
“Well, whatever they call it,” David said, “couldn’t you, like, change into the matter of Galunlati, or something?”
The Faery shook his head. “One may only wear the stuff of the Worlds that adjoin one’s own.”
“But Galunlati
does
join yours: your Powersmith part, anyway.”
“Aye, but I am only of quarter blood. Besides, to do it here I would first have to put on the stuff of Faerie, which I cannot.”
“Never mind, man; you just lost me.”
“It is hard to explain. One may only wear the stuff of the Worlds that touch one’s own—this much I have said. But one may
not
wear the stuff of Worlds that touch those that touch one’s own—Worlds at two removes. The links become too tenuous.”
“Gaaaa!” David cried, rising stiffly and stalking away. “It’s too early for this, Finno; my poor, fried brain won’t take it. I—”
“Ho,” Calvin interrupted. “Thunder’s here.”
Uki was staring at them from the doorway. He looked calm and rested.
“I see you have found food,” he said. “I trust your sleep was peaceful. But come, you must be about your hunting. I have seen the sign of the uktena closer than it has ever been. It would seem you have come just in time.”
“Sure,” Alec grunted, shrugging into his shirt, a hand unconsciously seeking the dagger stuffed inside his waistband.
David saw it and frowned, not having noticed it before, but before he could inquire further, Uki was speaking again. “Only one way may the uktena be slain,” he said, “by an arrow through the seventh spot from the head. There is his heart and his life.”
“But you said he was solid-colored,” David noted.
“For the spots to show, he must be angry. They will appear as he changes color.”
“And let me guess: we have to anger him.”
“You are clever this morning, Sikwa Unega. You must have slept well indeed. It is a good thing I forbade my sisters to visit you!”
David only scowled.
“But there are certain things I must now warn you about,” Uki went on, abruptly serious. “Whomever is seen by an uktena can become so dazed by the magic of the jewel in his head that he may forget himself and run toward it instead of away.”
“I see,” David said grimly, wondering for the millionth time what he had gotten himself into.
“The monster’s blood is the final jeopardy,” Uki continued. “It is poisonous to touch, even, almost, to smell. And of blood there is aplenty, let me warn you. The uktena lives mostly on it; it is the source of its red color and its major threat, for once pierced there will be blood in amounts you cannot imagine: whole rivers of it, it will seem.”
“And we can’t touch it?”
“Not if you value your lives.”
“Well,” said Fionchadd, springing to his feet and reaching for his bow. “I, for one, am ready to begin.”
“Come then,” Uki said, “array yourselves for war and I will show you the trail of the uktena.”
*
Half an hour later David stood with his comrades atop the crag that hid Uki’s home. To their right the river hurled itself out of sight into the gorge. A permanent cloud of spray showed there, but this morning the sun had caught it in such a way that a true half-circle of rainbow arced from cliff to cliff. David started to point, but Uki stopped him. “It will give you rheumatism,” he said.
Alex nudged David with an elbow. “Wanta go looking for pots of gold?”
“That’s another reality.” David chuckled back.
“And false besides,” Fionchadd added. “I know some leprechauns. All they hoard is beer and gossip.”
“Wrong pot, Finno.”
A sudden rustle of movement startled them, and David twisted around to see Calvin strip and dive into the river twenty or so yards upstream of the falls.
“Hey, what’s
he
doing?” Alec wondered.
“Purifying himself, I guess,” David said. “Must be his ancestry calling again.”
Alec shuddered. “Some purification. Makes me shiver just to watch it.”
“Then don’t.”
“It is a thing you all should have done,” Uki said beside them. “And it surprised me that you did not. But perhaps you thought your own medicine sufficient, and in any case it is too late now, for we must hasten.”
Alec hesitated. “But what about Calvin?”
“He will find us. Even if I hide my tracks, he will see yours, of that you may be certain.”
“Some vote of confidence,” David muttered.
“Hey, Calvin, get your ass in gear and come on,” Alec hollered.
“Oh, for Chrissakes, McLean!”
Uki glared at him. “Come, noisy smooth one, we must go.”
He led them single file into the dense tangle of laurel that flanked the river, and David was amazed at how uncannily quiet he was. He tried to move as silently, but instead became keenly aware of how every movement brought its own sound: the whispering press of boots upon dead leaves or fallen needles; the buzz of twigs along the denim of his jacket or their sharp cracks as they caught at pockets or sleeves. Suddenly he began to understand the minimalist school of dressing Uki employed. In a place where silence meant food, which meant survival, anything that made noise was to be avoided.
A moment later a gentle rustle in the bushes proved to be Calvin: shirtless and barefoot, though still wearing jeans and his pouch. Beneath his beaded sweatband, his hair was sopping. Stripes of black and red adorned his cheeks, chin, and forehead; a hunting knife glittered in his right hand.
They pressed onward for a fair while, tending always uphill, but over gentler slopes than they had encountered the previous day. When Uki brought them to it, the uktena sign was obvious even to David’s eye. Straight ahead the earth had been rutted into a deep trough easily five feet wide, as though someone had dragged a vast tree through the woods, digging into the soil and bending bushes aside on either hand, where they were not crumpled underneath. Whatever had made that trail had been huge—unbelievably so.
“The beast will not be far off,” Uki told them. “It sleeps by day, basking in the warmth of the high places, and it may be you will find it there. If you are not here at sunset I will go to seek your bodies.”
“What if it takes longer?” Alec wondered.
“It will not. By day you have some chance. By night the uktena will find you.”
“Well, I guess that’s that,” Calvin said grimly.
Alec twisted around, confused. “Uki’s gone.”
“He’ll be back,” Calvin said flatly. “Either way things go he solves one problem.”
“Quiet,” Fionchadd warned. “We must begin.”