Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin (28 page)

Broc made a low, contented growl.
“You have grown. And you dress as a two-leg now.”

“Yes.”

“You wear skins on your feet.”
Cuán sniffed Caymin’s leather boots.

Caymin squirmed.

“I am not blaming you,”
he said.
“You are one of them now.”

“I am, and I am not,”
Caymin said.

“What do you mean?”

“I have always been apart from them. They were raised in two-leg families; I was raised by you. They know the two-leg stories and festivals; I do not. They speak of being matched with mates someday; I do not. But it is true, that I now wear skins and eat two-leg food.”

Broc sat up.
“What troubles you?”

“I do not wish to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint us, little one.”

Caymin stroked the sleek fur.
“I am glad you are here and safe.”

“Can you tell us more of this two-leg who is so dangerous?”

“He has powerful magic, and he wants something.”

Broc turned as if sniffing for something.
“He wants what follows you?”

Caymin looked at her in surprise.
“You can sense him?”

“He is near. Can you call him?”

Caymin called to Péist, who was indeed very near. She’d felt his concern for her safety.

“Come. Meet my badger parents.”

Within a short while, there was a rustling sound as Péist wriggled into the end of the hollow tree. Cuán growled and Broc backed up against Caymin, who said,
“This is Péist.”

Broc stretched her neck as long as it would go, sniffing as she circled Péist.
“This is what the magical two-leg wants?”

Caymin smiled at the disdain in Broc’s voice. Péist crawled nearer and dropped a dead vole at Broc’s feet before moving to Caymin’s side and pressing against her thigh.
“He knows you have not eaten and brought you a gift.”
She laid a hand on Péist.

Broc came around to Caymin’s other side and she and Péist stared at each other.
“He does not speak.”

“Not yet. He is a cub. And will have magical power of his own one day. That is why Timmin wanted him. I have been told he will speak someday. I… feel his thoughts. And he feels mine.”

Broc gave a clear sniff of disbelief.
“He is the ugliest cub I have ever seen, but if you feel connected to him, little one, then we are as well.”
She nosed the vole.
“Give him my thanks.”

Enat looked up from where she sat near the fire, sewing new soles on her boots as Caymin entered the cottage, shaking snow off her cloak. “Are the badgers pleased with the site you chose for them?”

“Yes. They will be busy digging for many days.”

Caymin sat in front of the hearth. She stirred the fire and added a block of peat.

Enat set aside the boots. “Does something trouble you?”

Caymin stared into the flames for a bit before saying, “Broc did not know me at first.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve grown, and you look very different now.”

Caymin nodded. “Péist came to meet her and Cuán while the others were out hunting.”

“He honored them, as he felt what they mean to you.”

A smile tugged at Caymin’s mouth. “She said he was the ugliest cub she had ever seen.”

Enat chuckled. “I daresay one day no one will call him ugly.”

CHAPTER 18

The Secret Shared

A
hard, bitter cold descended on the forest and a deep snow fell. Caymin had helped the badgers to lay in a supply of food in their new sett so that they could settle and rest after their long journey and Broc could give birth in peace.

“Call to me if you need me for anything,”
Caymin told them.

She concentrated on her lessons again, or tried to. She often found herself sitting in the meetinghouse with the other apprentices, her cauldron bubbling or some spell half-murmured, but then she would become distracted when she heard faint stirrings from the badgers, even when they weren’t speaking directly to her.

“I never used to hear them from this far away before,” she told Enat, rubbing her forehead. “And Péist is growing more insistent. He reaches out to me day and night now. I think maybe he is jealous.”

Enat eyed her. “Perhaps it’s a combination of how your power has grown and the forest magnifying everything.”

“It is hard to focus.”

“This might be a good time for you to learn to block your mind,” Enat said. “It is a useful skill for all of us anyhow, and is normally saved for the older apprentices, but it will be especially good for you, with so many tugging at you.”

“What do I do?”

“It is different for each,” said Enat. “Some can clear their minds, but I find that exceedingly difficult. As soon I clear my mind, it fills up with all kinds of nonsense. I find it easier to focus so hard on one thing, that there is no room for anything else.”

Caymin closed her eyes tightly, and then opened them again when she heard Enat’s laugh.

“You’d best not learn to do this with your eyes closed,” Enat said. “It would be most inconvenient if you had to close your eyes every time you needed to block someone. Aside from the practical aspect that you might have to do this in the middle of a confrontation, you’ll want to master the skill in such a way that others will not know when you’re blocking.”

Caymin frowned. “This sounds very difficult.”

“It can be,” Enat said with a shrug. “For you, talking to animals comes naturally, while it doesn’t for others. Some can block without even having to think about it, while you may have to work to learn to do this.”

Enat prodded the fire. “Stare into the flames, find something to focus on – maybe a memory or something you see in the fire itself.”

Caymin concentrated on the way the flames licked the blocks of peat, as if they were alive. She felt something pushing, almost a physical thing, pushing into her thoughts and she found herself remembering the end of the last winter when Enat came to find her.

“You’re not blocking me,” Enat said quietly. “You’re letting me right in.”

“But how do I stop you?”

“You must concentrate harder, do not let me in.”

Caymin glared at the fire now, and this time, when the push came, she relived her spiritwalk the night she saw her mother for the first time.

“Try again.”

She renewed her focus on the fire, trying to do as Enat said and fill her mind with what she saw, but time after time, Enat pushed through.

She heard Enat sigh, and the pushing stopped.

“This will not be easy for you,” Enat said. “You’ve never tried to conceal your emotions from anyone. You never needed to, so it doesn’t come naturally to you. We’ll keep practicing, but not now.”

The apprentices were given a free afternoon. They ate a mid-day meal and Diarmit announced he was going to the boys’ cottage to sleep.

“Why is he so sleepy all the time?” Caymin asked.

Gai shrugged. “Because he’s lazy? All he does is sleep and eat. I’m going to the forge with Ivar. Want to come along?”

Caymin shook her head. “I promised Broc I would come to visit.”

Daina and Cíana accompanied Caymin to the sett, each carrying a small basket of carrots or dried venison or nuts. They walked through snow almost up to their knees.

“How old are the cubs now?” Daina asked, huffing along behind Caymin.

“Almost a moon.”

They trudged for a while before coming to an area the badgers had cleared of snow.

“We have come for a visit,”
Caymin called.

She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled down a long tunnel, enlarged to accommodate humans. Cíana and Daina followed. They came to a larger chamber where Broc lay with her four new cubs as they nursed.

“We brought food.”

“It’s darker than night in here,” said Daina. “How do you see anything?”

Caymin conjured a small flame to illuminate the chamber. “I forgot. I cannot see enough to be able to read, but enough to tell friend from foe.”

The other badgers crowded around, greeting Caymin. Somewhat more shyly, they stretched their noses out to sniff Cíana and Daina, allowing them to stroke their heads.

“Thank you, little one,”
said Broc.

Cuán pulled a strip of venison from the basket and brought it to Broc.

“They’re so cute,” Daina said, looking at the newborn cubs. “May I hold one?”

Caymin translated for her, and Broc nudged one of the cubs in her direction. Daina picked it up, and it cried and wriggled. It settled as she snuggled it against her chest, keeping it warm.

“I never thought to have two-legs in our sett, beyond you, little one,”
Cuán said.

“I never thought to have you and my two-leg friends all together.”

Cíana giggled.
“I like being called a two-leg.”

“I had to learn many new words when Enat came to get me,
” Caymin said, remembering how strange and new everything seemed back then.

“Please tell Enat again how grateful we are to her for sending help to us,”
Broc said.
“Has there been any sign of that two-leg, Timmin?”

Caymin felt Cíana tense next to her, though Daina continued to croon and stroke the badger cub, oblivious to the unspoken conversation taking place around her.

“No,”
Caymin said. She waited a moment, but Cíana kept her silence.
“There has been no sign of him.”

The girls took their leave shortly thereafter, with a promise to come back soon. Caymin lingered for just a moment.

“Be well, little one,”
said Broc.

“And you.”

As the girls walked back through the snow to the village, Daina chattered on and on about how she never thought she’d meet badgers and how cute the cubs were. Caymin stayed silent and noticed that Cíana said nothing.

When they neared Enat’s cottage, Caymin veered off, but hadn’t gone ten paces before Cíana circled around and caught up to her.

“I told Daina I’d forgotten something,” she said. “I want to talk to you.”

Caymin kept walking. Cíana grabbed her arm to pull her to a halt. “You know what I mean. Tell me about Timmin.”

Caymin glanced around, but all near them was quiet. Still, she cast a spell to block any from hearing what they said.

“The elders know, but Enat asked me not to tell anyone else. If I tell you, you will not tell the others?”

“I won’t. I give you my word.”

Caymin bit her lip for a moment as she thought. “Do you know why Timmin left the forest?”

Cíana shook her head. “No one does. We guessed he had a disagreement with the other elders.”

Caymin scoffed. “You are partially right. Timmin… he wanted something. And he tried to use me to get it. Enat and Neela saved me from him. At the circle of stones. They made him leave the forest.”

“But what could he want from you that badly?”

“Péist.”

Cíana laughed a little. “The worm-creature? The one who warned you the invaders were coming across the lake? Why in the world would Timmin want him?”