Dendera (33 page)

But Hikari Asami didn’t do the same. Her eyes were bright and earnest, and her expression was one of caution. She slowed her breath until she hardly breathed. Her ears twitched, the sensitive movement animal-like, and she began to sweat despite the cold of the Mountain. The muscles around the base of her neck were taut and trembling.

“What’s wrong?” Kayu Saitoh asked.

“Hush,” Hikari Asami whispered.

Kayu Saitoh understood what that meant, and in the next moment, her mouth had gone completely dry, and her inflamed throat felt hot.

Hikari Asami stepped out from the hollow. Remaining on alert, she looked all around, turning her head like a restless little bird, then motioned for Kayu Saitoh to come. Kayu Saitoh moved, remaining cautious herself. Hikari Asami seemed to be mindful of the wind’s direction, and she opened her mouth a crack and motioned with her head. Kayu Saitoh nodded her understanding. The woman crouched and went on the move, with Kayu Saitoh following after. Hikari Asami scrambled up the Mountain’s slope on her hands and feet, and Kayu Saitoh, with only one arm, had to do all she could to keep up. Still facing ahead, Hikari Asami impatiently admonished her to stop making so much noise. Kayu Saitoh wished she could, but with one arm, moving silently proved a difficult task.

The two elderly women scrambled up the Mountain and dove into a thick growth of bamboo grass to hide. Hikari Asami carefully poked out her head and looked all around. Not wanting to get in the way, Kayu Saitoh crouched down and kept quiet, but when Hikari Asami told her to look too, she lifted her head and saw a sweeping vista of the Mountain glittering in the morning sun.

And there, in the distance, she saw the bear.

The creature was roaming majestically through the Mountain—through its domain. Four stout legs powered the ambling beast’s bulk, which was peppered with festering burns and scars. But judging from the healthy, rippling movements of the muscles on its shoulders and rump, and the bushy luster of the red fur on its back, the bear hadn’t lost its vigor or will. Hikari Asami must have noticed it too, because she let out a disappointed sigh.

The bear roamed about, twitching its ears and nose, seeming to make more use of those senses than its vision. Every now and then, it stopped to brush its paws on the ground while its red fur swayed.

Hikari Asami whispered into Kayu Saitoh’s ear. “It seems to have noticed us … but it doesn’t know where we are. But … it’s only a matter of time. We moved downwind, but we can’t escape the bear’s nose.”

“Will it find us?”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Hikari Asami repeated. “Kayu Saitoh, it’s up to you now.”

Her parched throat trembling, Kayu Saitoh stared at the bear. Inside, she was shaking, but outside, her body was as stiff as a dead dog. Her eyes wavered not one iota as she stared steadily at the bear and the bear alone.

But Kayu Saitoh was preternaturally calm and quiet. One could even call her relieved. Outside of fairy tales, a person could never become a bear, but Kayu Saitoh felt attuned with the bear’s emotions and senses, and in her thoughts a single scene came into view.

Redback sensed that the Two-Legs were somewhere near, but she couldn’t see where. Maddened, she brushed her front paws on the ground and made a threatening sound. Meanwhile, she sniffed and sniffed and moved her soft, furry ears about. Redback—and all bears for that matter—relied on their senses of hearing and smell to find their prey. Redback focused her attention on the smells wafting around her. She opened her mouth a little, stuck out her tongue, and sucked in the cold air. This way, she could smell the very currents of the wind, but the stink of the Two-Legs was now absent. She knew this meant her prey had escaped downwind, and it was there she narrowed her gaze.

She saw the familiar mountainscape.

She’d seen it—this domain she ruled—enough to grow tired of it.

And Redback saw the Two-Legs blended into it. Their faces were sticking out from the bamboo grass. And they were facing her direction. They had noticed her too, but she didn’t shrink back, instead turning to face them. The two Two-Legs had hidden themselves in the bamboo, and when she met one of their gazes, an unfamiliar sensation came over her. The sensation was so alien that she nearly lost her balance. She remembered when she had seen those eyes before. The second time she had attacked the place where the Two-Legs dwelled, her gaze met one of theirs, and in those eyes she had seen something kindred.

Redback didn’t understand the Two-Legs.

She didn’t understand what they thought and why they lived.

She didn’t understand for what purpose they existed.

But in those eyes staring back at her, she saw a deep and almost impudent understanding. To Redback, this was displeasing, but more than that, it was an enigma.

Redback had known caution and worry, but this sensation that now assailed her was something new. She felt her feral intellect ill-suited to deal with this situation. Her life had one course: live in solitude, give birth to a cub, and raise it. To deviate from this path was beyond her capabilities. And so when Redback decided to stop thinking, she did so with immediate success. Rather than go through the pretense of agonizing over the differences between herself and the Two-Legs, she chose simple faith in her claws and fangs. She chose to obey her instinctual imperative:
Kill and devour.
Redback was a creature of the wild; such was her limitation, and also her strength.

She needed to survive. She needed to live; to overcome the cold and barren winter, to recuperate in the warmth of spring, to rule over her domain, to raise her next-born cub to be the next ruler. Those were her only reasons to live, but to Redback—and to every wild animal—they were enough. The reasons were as unyielding as they were simple.

Strength coursed through Redback’s massive body.

When the muscles in her legs and shoulders and abdomen and rump were brimming with power, she released the energy in a mighty roar. The trees shook, snow falling loose from their branches. It was a threat and a declaration of war. Upon hearing that roar, any creature smaller than her on the mountain would spring into flight, but the Two-Legs remained motionless as they stared at her. Though she had spurned any thought of the Two-Legs, her fear returned anew. She couldn’t comprehend why these creatures, weaker than any other animal on the mountain, didn’t run. The sound of her cry should have filled them with overwhelming terror. Staring at her like they did was an agreement to battle. Redback discarded all doubt. With the red fur standing along her back, she advanced, closing distance with the Two-Legs. They remained still within the bamboo grass.

With survival of the winter at stake, she launched herself at them.

“It’s coming,” Kayu Saitoh said when she saw the bear begin its charge. “I’ll take it from here. Hide yourself, Hikari Asami.”

Kayu Saitoh leaped out from the bamboo grass, and after a moment’s hesitation, ran in the opposite direction from the bear. A rush of exhilaration filled her, and blood pumped into her eyes, as she numbed to the noises and sights of the world around her. Running was all to her now. She didn’t even notice the branches and bamboo stalks tearing at her white robe, and it took some time for her to realize that Hikari Asami was running directly behind her.

“Why are you following me?” Kayu Saitoh shouted, running as fast as she could. “I thought you wanted to live. I thought you wanted to go far away. You’ll get killed!”

“The bear will catch up to you too quickly alone. You should know by now how powerful its legs are.”

“But—”

“Let me help you.”

“Do what you want, you fool!”

As she shouted, she leaped down a drop-off and twisted her ankle on landing, but she ignored the pain and took off running again.

The two women sprinted down the Mountain.

Kayu Saitoh hurdled over fallen trees, strode across hollows, and seemed to skate atop the snow, but as the Mountain sights flew past in a perpetual, turbulent whirl, she lost sense of where she was going.

Hikari Asami grabbed her left arm and pulled her along.

“This way,” she said, keeping ahold of Kayu Saitoh’s arm as she ran ahead. “You really couldn’t have done it without me.”

Thankful for Hikari Asami’s decision to help, she shook free from the woman’s grasp and kept on running.

At the speed the two women were sprinting down the Mountain, one tiny mistake would send them tumbling. Yet still they had no hope of outrunning the bear. The beast’s odor, its bloodthirsty growls, and its tangible rage pursued them. But Kayu Saitoh couldn’t spare a glance over her shoulder. Focused on what was ahead, she ran. But the view around her was unchanging. The trees stood densely, and deep snow blanketed the earth. Gritting her teeth, Kayu Saitoh squeezed every bit of strength from her body as she ran. Each time she sucked the cold air in through her nose and mouth, her lungs protested in pain. Her wide-open eyes had thoroughly dried out, bulging nearly out of their sockets. Her feet had long since gone numb, and she couldn’t tell when they were on the ground. And yet she kept on running. But the bear had closed in, and Kayu Saitoh could feel its breath hot and wet on her back.

“Keep running this way,” Hikari Asami said from ahead. “Run straight forward. When the woods open up … the Village will be right in front of you.”

Then Hikari Asami stopped on her heels and lunged at the bear.

The beast hadn’t been able to react to this sudden movement, and the two of them rolled down the slope and crashed into a large fir tree. Hikari Asami was wedged between the bear and the tree, and the impact had split open her head, but she had tangled herself up in the bear’s front legs. The beast moved its limbs about and managed to sink one set of its glistening claws into the woman. Kayu Saitoh thought only of reaching the Village. She ran with her mind cleared of anything else.

This was her plan.

If the few remaining old women weren’t strong enough to defeat the bear, they could lead the bear to the Village. The people of the Village might kill the bear. Or, the bear might kill everyone in the Village. But for the plan to work, someone had to lead the bear to them. And no one could do this but Kayu Saitoh. If any other of the women did it, any survivors would find her presence suspect and would come looking in the Mountain. And they would likely find Dendera. But unlike the other women, Kayu Saitoh hadn’t been on the Mountain long. The people of the Village would simply consider her a coward who, unable to face her death, had come back. She didn’t care if they butchered her. She didn’t care if the bear devoured her first. And even if she somehow survived, the potatoes were in her stomach.

She would be able to die.

Kayu Saitoh kept on running. Swinging her remaining arm, she gave herself to the run. She didn’t see anything. She didn’t feel anything. With her sandals shredded, her gray hair frozen standing, blood streaming from her nose, her straw coat blown away, and her white robe flapping open, Kayu Saitoh looked like a monster. She shot across the Mountain with the ardent wish to die not as a monster but as a person. She wanted to die as a human being.

Suddenly, she could again sense the bear’s presence.

Thinking she had built up a little distance between herself and the beast, she looked over her shoulder and saw it chasing after her, its red fur, bathed in Hikari Asami’s blood, glistening even more redly than before. Its stout legs moved with terrific speed, and it kicked up snow as it gave chase, its single eye glittering with pure rage. A single thought materialized inside Kayu Saitoh’s mind:
Kill and devour,
and she knew the bear’s creed had jumped into her thoughts. She shook her head to dispel the image, then looked forward again as she glided down the Mountain’s slopes. A change had come to the Mountain’s scenery. It was nothing dramatic, merely a slight alteration, but the scenery now felt familiar to her. She was convinced this feeling was no mistake. She had seen this place when she had Climbed the Mountain. She had seen it while her son carried her on his back. Her lips broke into a smile, and the air rushed into her mouth and puffed out her cheeks like those of a frog. But meanwhile the bear was catching up to her, its growls coming from close by now, but Kayu Saitoh kept on running.

She was running as hard as she could when she noticed that she was approaching the tree line. And she saw that the snow had melted in patches, exposing the bare soil. But more than that, the slope had eased up, and the ground was flat underneath her feet. She was nearing the Village. Nearly half naked, nearly a monster, but wholly human, Kayu Saitoh held nothing back as she ran. From behind, she could still hear the bear gaining on her. As she kept running, she became aware of a rich aroma she hadn’t smelled in some time. It was the smell of wet earth. The snow had melted, bringing the hidden earth to the surface where it released its pent-up aroma. Kayu Saitoh felt as if she could cry out in elation, but she wasn’t out of danger yet. The bear too was desperate; desperate to carry out that single-minded thought—
Kill and devour
!
—
desperate to continue its bloodline. Kayu Saitoh sensed this, herself desperate to die and desperate to find her ending. She picked up her speed, for death right here and right now was the only outcome she could not permit. But she had pushed her body beyond its limits. Her entire mind was occupied with putting one leg in front of the other. Blood seeped from her cracked lips, wind buffeted her swollen eyelids, a sour taste spread in her mouth, her heartbeat thundered in her ears—in other words, she was near death—but her legs alone were in fine function. And yet even they had become a struggle.

Then Kayu Saitoh’s feet, which had been almost completely numb, suddenly stepped on something. She felt a soft, springing sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time. This was no time to concern herself over such things, and she ignored it and kept running, but then she felt it again, and she permitted herself to lower her gaze, just a little bit, and looked at the ground.