Chapter Thirty-one: One and All

It was hard to get up, but he had to pee. He was tired and weak, he ached all over, he must be sick too. Everyone was, and they were all dying. Someone helped him to the ash basket and back to bed. He whimpered involuntarily and felt warm hands touching in response, soft whispered words of comfort. Warmth surrounded him. Back into the deeper darkness of sleep he sank, but not alone. Not yet.

Tentacles of mist trailing from low clouds brushed the hill's top. A foreboding aura oozed from a dark hole in the steep incline. At the foot of the low promontory, a wide bend of placid river vanished into fog in either direction. Trees and shrubs obscured the near shore.

Radovin stood facing the hill; cold, tired, hungry, alone again. He had nothing but a half-bald reindeer skin to keep the dank chill away. The tighter he tried to pull it around him, the less it seemed to cover.

"Rado."

He turned to face the gentle voice from the past. His grandmother and grandfather stood there, with many others who were no longer among the living.

"They come to help you now," his grandmother said. "Go with all good."

One blink, and they were gone. More people emerged from the trees, men and women of all ages. He thought that he recognized Tevina and Davoner, and all the rest of the White Horse band. Some were from other bands. It was hard to be sure, the misty faces changed when he looked directly at them. Other less substantial shapes filled spaces between and behind them. Perhaps those were spirits of the dead, who had fulfilled their obligations both in life and in the Underworld and were free to advise and help. They were not lost, angry souls, surely not in the company they kept here.

None of them spoke now, neither the living shades nor the unearthly. He heard only the soft whisper of their feet as they filed by and offered their gifts. His tattered wrap was replaced with warm clothing, a thick blanket draped around his shoulders. Someone placed a spear in his hand; another hung a long strand of amber beads around his neck. Clothes, weapons, tools, food, all piled up at his feet, more than anyone could carry with a large packframe.

With every touch, every gift, he felt stronger and less tired. He was warm. The sun broke the clammy morning mist, the spirit people shimmered and faded away.

The ominous cavern mouth was no longer fearsome in the bright sun. A woman stood framed in it, smiling at him. She had white hair, but her sky-blue eyes were as young as morning dew. Her arms lifted, hands held out toward him.

He dropped into a dark blur of memories. The haze gradually gave way to bird song, vague half-awake murmured greetings, and the shuffle of bare feet on mats. Solid flesh pressed against his face. Hair and the good, bold smell of a man tickled his nose; another living heart thumped softly in his ear.

"Nah, he's waking up." The words vibrated through his head.

"Mmnhh, wha...."

"Good morning, Rado. How do you feel?"

"Oh--" He lifted his head, tried to blink the world into focus with sticky eyes. The now familiar tent was full of moving shadows. Reflected firelight showed Davoner's smiling face near his. The man's arm lay over him, beside an arm from another body snug against his back. No wonder he was warm.

The other arm was Tevina's. He heard her voice just behind his head. "Do you feel better, Rado?"

"Ahm...g'morning," he mumbled. Playing baby at his age. Sixteen summers. He slithered his right hand out and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep-crumbs out of the corners. "Um...I'm sorry."

Davoner's hand lingered on his shoulder for a firm squeeze, then slid away. Tevina pulled her arm back and leaned over him. He twisted his neck until he could see her face.

"Are you all right?" she said. "You were so tired, we were very worried about you. Ottavar said you mustn't sleep alone." Her fingers brushed against his cheek, caught up a tangle of hair, and drew it out of his way.

Ah, well. It hadn't been his choice where to collapse, after all. "Mnn...yeah, I slept really well. I feel good." That was true; all of the aching weariness was gone. He laid his head down to think about it.

"The Good Ones be thanked." Tevina settled back with a contented sigh.

Davoner rolled onto his back and hauled both arms out for a long stretch. "Mmm. Good. Sumi says Ottavar slept soundly too. He's still at it."

"I suppose we should get up," Tevina murmured lazily.

Davoner shifted his head a little. "We could wait until breakfast is ready."

Tevina's barely audible laugh twitched the bedcovers and joggled Radovin's elbow. The sounds of a new day drifted over them: quiet talk, the whisper and snap of fire and the hiss of a hot stone meeting water.

He stretched slowly. "Ahhh. Good morning!"

Davoner chuckled. "Good morning, Rado."

When Radovin and Davoner returned from a quick washup, most of the band had brought their breakfast outside, sitting on the sunny side of the tent. Some had finished already and needed to get their hands busy. Sabani wanted to fix his hair right away, and Jesumi babbled about clothes. Davoner grinned at them over a bowl of soup that he ate standing up.

Tevina rescued him, hustling the younger women away, with a knowing smile. "A young man likes a little peace and quiet at breakfast, and time to eat," she said, adding in a whisper, "The girls are nervous." Radovin went into the tent to get his morning meal. Jesumi followed him in, but not to hassle him about dress. She snatched up a bowl and ladled it full of soup before he could lift a spoon.

"Ott's up and eating, if you want to keep him company," she suggested as she handed it to him.

"Thanks, Sumi."

He walked over to Ottavar's bed and sat by the middle, with a nod to Kewarratiwa. She occupied a cushion at the head end, with a couple of small baskets on her lap, picking over dried roots. Diffuse light illuminated her work through the half-open back flap.

"Good morning, Radovin," she said. He mumbled a reply. His eyes were on Ottavar.

The invalid sat propped up against extra bedding with a bowl set handily in front of him. A piecework fur cape kept drafts from his shoulders and arms. Quite the image of ease and luxury, except for the bandages showing across his chest and dark shadows beneath his otherwise bright, alert eyes. He had been cleaned up, but his hair was still dull and tangled.

Ottavar surveyed Radovin in return. "Good morning, Rado," he said, with a cheerful smile.

"Good morning. You look better."

"I feel it. You slept well, ah?"

"Half a day and all night." Radovin cracked half a smile at himself. "How's the fever?"

"Gone, mostly. Tiwa says I'm healing properly." Ottavar smiled at the young woman, who beamed back at him.

"He is heal most quickly," Tiwa said to Radovin.

Her smile bestowed more praise than he had any right to. "You take good care of him," he said, looking at his breakfast instead. The bowl Sumi had filled for him must have been made with Lovaduc in mind, but he had no doubt that he could empty it. The bath had awakened a raging appetite. He took a small taste, just to give it a little respect, then dug in.

Jesumi sat by Tiwa and started putting the prime roots from one basket into a pouch of thin leather. "We have to hold him down already," she said, grinning. Tiwa laughed.

"At least they let me feed myself," Ottavar said, with a wry smile and an awkward waggle of his spoon.

"I slept through a couple of meals," Radovin said, between spoonfuls.

"You needed it. Whatever magic brought you there, it left you with no real protection. That--thing--was sucking your strength out, and you spent a lot on me, I think. You're all right now, ah? You look it."

"Yeah, I feel...good." Mutamari, he had been in bad shape yesterday. Mere sleep could not have--his dream flashed into his mind, stopping all other thought. He stared at nothing for a few breaths.

"Rado, is something wrong with the soup?" Jesumi's frown was not aimed at the soup.

"Ah...no. I had a dream...."

Ottavar nodded encouragingly. Tell me, that look said.

"I was alone, and cold, and all these people--this band, and others, I couldn't count all of them--they came and gave me things...everything kind of put more strength in me."

"Being Dedicated doesn't mean only giving," Ottavar said, after a long silent pause. He smiled when Radovin looked up.

Awe and wonder washed Radovin's mind away for a moment. Magic more powerful than any he could command had been at work last night. To dedicate oneself meant to be completely open to the great web of vizanu that connected all living beings. The flow of energy went both ways, all ways. Wrong as it might be to take spirit-power from a person without leave, there was no shame in accepting what was freely shared without asking. But so much had been given!

He hesitantly returned Ottavar's smile.

"Finish your soup, ah?" Ottavar said, with a meaningful glance at the two young women. Jesumi sniffed and Tiwa stifled a laugh.

Hunger is also a potent force. Radovin attacked the remaining soup, slurping broth over the edge and pushing the good chunks into his mouth with his spoon. He tilted his bowl to drink the last drops of broth. Ottavar finished his at the same time.

"Do you want more?" Jesumi asked, taking Ottavar's bowl.

"No, not now." Ottavar laid his head back and sighed. "I suppose it's time for another nap."

"That's a good boy," Jesumi said.

Ottavar rolled his eyes. "I swear I will never again let myself get tied down to a bed for acting without thinking. Nothing ever goes the way we plan it. But next time some kid I don't know from a toot-berry comes running to me with a story about an emergency, I'll ask him a few more questions. It'll save all of us a lot of trouble." He grinned ruefully.

Jesumi chuckled. "Remember Grandpapa's favorite saying. That which doesn't kill me..."

"...leaves me pissed off enough..." Ottavar continued.

"...to do something about it," Jesumi finished.

Radovin let out a snort.

"You must be both very pissed off," Kewarratiwa said. Then she turned worried eyes on Ottavar, whose attempt at laughter ended in a moan of pain.

He smiled weakly at her. "I'm all right. Sorry to be such a whimp. Just don't say anything funny for another day or so, ah?"

"We won't," Jesumi assured him. "Not where you can hear, anyway. Rado, do you want more?"

"Yeah. Uh, no, I don't think I should." They were all staring at him. "All right, just a little." He surrendered his bowl.

"You'll get used to it, Rado," Ottavar said, grinning.

Radovin watched Jesumi head for the hearth. "Yeah. But I'll get fat and lazy."

"Ha--ah!" Ottavar made another grimace of pain. Kewarratiwa tsk-tsk-ed at him and bent sideways to kiss his forehead. Radovin had to smile at them. She was displaced, as he had been, and her love for Ottavar gave them a common bond that he might get a grip on. If he could figure her out. He turned his head away and scratched an imaginary itch. He might figure himself out some day too.

Lovaduc came in just as Radovin started on the not-so-little second helping. He squatted and looked them over with tired eyes. "You look like a shit-wipe, Ott," he declared cheerfully.

"Thanks. You look great too."

"Yeah, and I feel the same. Well, it'll be over soon." The headman turned his face to Radovin, who eyed him over the big bowl. "Kara said to tell you that you're wanted there for the convocation, Rado. It has to be complete, and you're all this band has that's fit to stand. I'll walk with you 'round the hill when you're ready to go."

"Ub--yeah. I'm almost done." He hastily dipped his spoon, though his stomach almost had second thoughts.

"Ease up, don't choke y'self. There's no hurry. They aren't ready to start yet, and Sheri won't let me go back until I eat." Lovaduc straightened up with a grunt of effort. He went outside to wait, taking the last of the soup with him still in the pot.

Radovin chewed without tasting. What would he do? All the other shamans had prepared themselves for it, talked things out while he slept. They knew one another, and how to work together. He swallowed and poked his spoon around in the bowl. "I wouldn't hardly know what to do...."

"They just need you to be there," Ottavar said. "It has to be complete, someone from every band. I don't think Balekara would risk letting it get to you. Only the White and Red are obligated."

"Ah." The bats in Radovin's stomach settled. He finished the last of the soup and let Sumi take the bowl out. Tiwa got up to put the sorted roots away, leaving just the two of them.

The shaman made a wry face. "I won't fall apart while you're gone." He moved a hand toward Radovin.

"Yeah, I know." Radovin ducked his head; he must have been staring. He took hold of Ottavar's hand to examine it. The scrapes and bruises were healing, the scabs were clean; he could feel a strong pulse. "I'll have a good look at the rest of you...after," he said, lifting his eyes to Ottavar's.

"I wish I could at least go with you."

"I wish you could too." Radovin wanted to work with Ottavar, to drum and sing and travel in the Spirit World with him, to learn from him. His heart surged toward the man who had helped him start a new life. If only he could have kept him from getting hurt in the first place....

Ottavar blinked a couple of times and gave him an odd look. "Go with all good, Rado," he said, with a lopsided, wistful smile. His hand grasped Radovin's firmly for a moment.

"And you." Radovin let go of Ottavar's hand, reminded that he still held it. "I...um...."

"Be careful, ah?" Ottavar winked at him.

"I will." Radovin grinned.

Lovaduc and Radovin ambled toward the west ford, their shadows preceding them a little to one side of the path. The headman spoke as he would to an equal. Most of the Dedicated and many others were already at the site, he said. He had been there and back quite a few times since yesterday, being in charge of the guards. Sharp-eyed hunters from several bands had kept close watch through the night in shifts of four men each. No one, not even a high initiate, was allowed within three man-lengths of the cairn that concealed the talisman.

They stopped to remove their moccasins before crossing--Jerevan's best, in Radovin's case. He still didn't have a dress-up pair to call his own, but neither that nor the borrowing bothered him any more.

Lovaduc fell silent as they climbed the slope on the far side. Radovin was too stirred up to keep quiet. "You didn't sleep much?" He spoke to the man's back; the headman strode single-mindedly on, and Radovin had to trot a few steps off and on to keep up

"No. Enough, though. I'll make it up when we're done with this thing. You look a lot better this morning. It didn't get into your dreams, ah?"

Radovin shook his head, flapping his tight braid of hair against his back. "No," he said aloud. Lovaduc couldn't see his head wag. "It's better when there's...other people around. Right now--I don't know--I just know it's there. I can feel it."

"It's more dangerous for you than for most of us, isn't it."

"Maybe...different?"

"Ottavar thinks so. There's already some kind of link, he said, and you're-- Pah! I don't know anything about that kind of thing. You said that Kayotar's spirit was trapped in it, but you helped him get out somehow? Back when the lightning struck you-know-who?"

"Yeah, that's what he said. I think. I didn't do it on purpose, but...I'm his son, and I used his drum." Link, yeah, that was an understatement. Something in that thing still wanted him. Then there was that other link, with Kayotar--everything was connected. And tangled. Radovin took another few running steps. As soon as he resumed a walking pace, Lovaduc drew ahead again.

"Ornery old cuss always talked in circles. Ottavar's the only one could understand half of what he said. And Hacaben, of course. Anyway--ah!" Lovaduc glanced back and stopped. "Sorry. I get carried away when I talk and walk at the same time."

"I'm too short." Radovin flopped his arms against his sides.

"Only on one end, and not where it counts. Anyway, what I was getting at was, my father's spirit--could he be trapped in that thing too? You don't happen to know, do you?"

"Ah, no, I don't know. Not for sure." It had never occurred to him to ask Kayotar when he had the opportunity. Poor Ludoven, stuck in a dark matrix of power with Bogu-knows what sort of other spirits. "We'll know soon." He smiled hesitantly.

Lovaduc smiled back. "We will. Come on, Rado. I'll go slower." He laid his right hand lightly on Radovin's back.

Radovin gave the big man a wider smile. The more he saw of Lovaduc, the more he liked him. He could barely remember the Raven band's headman; only that the man had laughed a lot. So did Lovaduc. The leaders of the Bull band had been aloof and authoritarian, as well as poisoned by lust for power. He supposed that this tower of a man could lay down the law if he had to, but the White Horse band didn't need to be told what to do like naughty children. The band had a whole heart and spirit.

The path curved southward over the low end of the tapering rise. From higher up the long hill, above and north of Radovin's lookout, a person could see a long way.

He cocked an ear to the steady throb of drums ahead, and recognized a chant, one of many that he had learned but never put to use. Ivergan's teaching had been thorough and methodical, whatever his motives for keeping an apprentice.

They rounded the hill and entered a wide, shallow draw, a natural amphitheater open to the south. A small cairn stood in the center of a circle of men and women with striking patterns painted over their bodies. Beyond them the youngest novices and sparse clumps of the laity looked on from the slopes. Nearest to the cairn, four small fires sent up plumes of fragrant smoke. Four shamans in masks representing the quarters of the world chanted, shaking rattles that filled the silence between the beats of a dozen drums sounded in unison. One of the four was obviously Balekara.

A few older couples, mostly headmen and their wives, sat on a grassy terrace with a good view of the proceedings. Lovaduc headed toward them. Rishador nodded a silent greeting, and Lovaduc lowered himself to sit crosslegged on the ground. Radovin sat next to him. No one spoke, but he could feel them looking at him as if he had turned into a purple woolly rhinoceros.

Radovin shut out the self-conscious feeling and watched the ritual intently. He had a lot to learn about working in a group like this, weaving spiritual forces into something stronger than the sum of its parts. The talisman was a construct of power too. Binding power to an object was not so unusual. It was the purpose and magnitude of this application that evoked horror. There never had been anything like it, except in legend, and now they were living the legend.

A thing like this could be hidden away, dropped into a deep hole with the hope that it would lie concealed forever. But Ivergan had found it, and so might someone else. The Earth opened and closed the gates to its mysterious depths. Hidden things would come to light again. Their only hope was to destroy it.

That would not be easy. The talisman was an opening, a doorway into a certain defined and enclosed area of the Spirit World. The power that created that opening and defined that space was anchored to the physical object. It was not the object, but depended on its existence to remain whole. A fearsome amount of energy would be released when the stone was broken. Vizanu was neither good nor evil in itself, but it could be as dangerous when undirected as when wrongly used.

It had to be done, the binding had become unstable. Protective spells could no longer be depended on to contain the insatiable hunger within. If that thing could latch onto a dense creature like Ambelda, it could grab anybody. In the hands of a corrupt shaman...chill-bumps crawled over Radovin's skin.

The shamans finished reweaving the shield. Echoes of drum and chant faded into the incongruously serene landscape. Radovin blinked away his vision of a faint, shimmering dome.

"How is it with your band today, Lovo?" Rishador said.

"Not so bad. Ottavar will be back on his feet in a day or so."

"I'm glad to hear that. Soon we'll have an end to this devilment."

"I certainly hope so." Lovaduc grimaced and lapsed back into pensive silence.

Out of the corner of his eye Radovin saw the Lion band headwoman giving him another of those purple-rhino looks. He pretended not to notice, rubbing his tattooed cheek. It itched.

"I better go," he mumbled, poised to rise. He could see several of the elder shamans looking his way. Fluttering things once more occupied his middle.

"Mph. Yeah," Lovaduc's head swiveled toward him. "Go with all good," he added with a crooked smile, lifting a hand.

Radovin touched Lovaduc's hand and got up. He tried on a smile but couldn't hold it for long. The bats in his stomach distracted him. As he walked away he heard snatches of what those near Lovaduc were saying.

"What I don't understand is how that man could have kept it for so long...."

"...Not using it...."

"You're so sure he didn't?"

"That boy--can you believe...."

"He's man enough...."

That last was Lovaduc's low voice. Radovin stiffened his backbone and stilled the flutters.

He had to undergo some preparation before entering the warded area. A good reason for not dressing up--he was daubed all over with symbols in black, red, and white while Halezi and Damagi chanted powerful charms and bathed him in aromatic smoke.

The women ushered him into the circle. Hacaben moved in closer to him from one side. "Well, Rado," he said, "good day to you. How's Ottavar? He was still asleep when I stopped by on my way over here. So were you."

"He's healing up well. We had breakfast together."

"The Good Ones be thanked. And you...I wasn't sure you should be here after all, but Kara insisted." The old shaman gave Radovin a brief, intense look. Then he nodded. "You look fit again."

"Yeah. I'm all right."

"Young people always recover quickly," Balekara said, with a little smile. "Good day, Radovin. We can get on with the business now that you're here."

Radovin cast an uneasy glance at the cairn. "What am I to do?"

"You will assist us in any way that is needed, like any other apprentice."

His stomach jumped. "I don't really know anything about...working with a group."

Balekara waved a hand and smiled reassuringly. "You need experience, that's all; your initiation was none too soon. I observed you with the musicians, you worked well enough with them. That's another side of the same pelt. You were born to a life of dedication. But today you only need to be here to represent your band. You aren't expected to take on any burden that you are not prepared to bear." She paused, head tilted, eyes thoughtful.

"We have a plan, though we still have to settle a few details before we start. You know what is said about plans, ah?"

"Uh, yeah." The best way to make Raven laugh....

"It's not often that we all work together, and this thing is beyond our experience. I will give you the gist of it, so that you will know as well as any what to expect."

The plan, as Balekara explained it for Radovin's benefit, was to perform a release ceremony such as would be held for one recently dead. No one knew how many spirits they would have to deal with, so they needed to coordinate their efforts, maintain awareness of one another throughout the process. No lost spirits should be overlooked, if possible, and no one should be overwhelmed by the released power.

In the course of an ordinary funeral rite, a shaman would attempt to communicate with the spirit of the deceased, to start it on its way to the other world. The recently dead were often confused, or unwilling to pass on. They might hang around and cause trouble, even try to possess the living.

Some passed through easily on their own. The guide had nothing to do but sit and shake a rattle to reassure the living. That had contributed to the mistaken impression that Kayotar and Ludoven were at rest. Negative evidence is not always reliable, especially when it strengthens hopes and wishes.

The other White Circle initiates gathered around them, and a few last words turned into many. The stone must be shattered with a single, unhesitating blow. Who should do it? The high initiates needed to focus on what would begin at that moment. Perhaps one of the apprentices....

Balekara seemed impatient at the renewal of stale arguments. Radovin knew her hips bothered her when she stood too long. Their eyes met, and her lips twitched in a little smile.

"What do you think, Radovin?" she said. "Who would you name to do this thing?"

"Ahm...Lovaduc." He blinked, amazed at what had just popped out of his own mouth. Brenjezac's startled look quickly turned into to a delighted grin. Hacaben laughed out loud.

Balekara smiled. She clapped her hands lightly. "Hear me. I propose that we ask Lovaduc if he is willing to participate. Do you agree?"

One after another the shamans voiced their assent. Lovaduc had the strength, and his motivation was unquestionable.

Balekara asked that everyone who agreed raise a hand, to formalize the decision. "If he is willing, so be it," she said to the unanimous show of hands. "Radovin, will you please bear our request to your headman?"

"Yes, maduana." He nodded deeply and turned, starting off at a trot. Abruptly, he slowed to a walk. Fine way to behave, running like a kid.

Conversation stilled at his approach. All eyes aimed at him, Lovaduc's expectant. Radovin took a breath and made a deep nod. "Lovaduc-nabu, the Convocation of the Dedicated...erm...has asked me to ask you if you would take part in the rite...." His voice trailed off and his face felt hot.

"I'll do anything I can to help, of course," Lovaduc said. He rose, towering far over Radovin, who stood downhill of him. "Excuse me, please," he said to the other men and women. They murmured polite things, exchanging uncomfortable looks. He gestured subtly for Radovin to walk at his side, and they headed down the slope toward the assembled shamans.

"So...what is my role in this to be?"

"To break the stone." Radovin looked up hopefully. "If you will?"

Lovaduc's eyes widened a little. "Ah. All right. Somebody has to do it."

Radovin took a long breath. "Thank you," he said, with more feeling than he intended. Lovaduc reached over and clasped one of those big, strong hands over his shoulder, one of the few spots left unpainted. He smiled sheepishly at the tall man, who smiled back.

"You volunteered me for it, ah?"

Radovin swallowed hard. "Um...yeah."

"You're all right, Radko."