Spiritwalkers: Witness

[aithne]

The girl flinched as Nascha came close, the relaxed when she looked up to see Nascha. "I won't hurt you," Nascha said haltingly, trying to remember the Sioux she had been taught. "I am Nascha. Who are you?"

Zotum was building a fire nearby, and the flickering light of it illuminated the girl. "Aquene," she said softly. She was some seasons older than Nascha but still young, and she was very pretty, as pretty as Sakhyo. She would be beautiful when she didn't have that fear in her eyes, Nascha thought.

She sat down next to Aquene, and pointed to each of her brothers in turn, naming them. "Cheveyo. Zotum. Otaktay. Pezi. Adoeete. Dichali. Sahale. Hania, shaman. Rest are--" She stopped, thinking. She didn't know the word for spiritwalkers in Sioux. "Walking with spirits, yes? You know. Pezi took you." Aquene nodded, said a word in Sioux that Nascha assumed meant spiritwalker. "We won't hurt you. We'll take you to another place, soon."

"Where?" Aquene asked.

"The tribe that these men are from."

Aquene tilted her head, then looked around her evaluatively. "But not your tribe?"

"I was born Navajo. Mine was killed, I was taken in by these people, made one of them." She gestured around herself.

"Same as mine."

The parallels had not escaped Nascha. "Done by the same person."

Aquene grimaced. "Chogan. I heard the name." She wrapped her arms around herself. "He was laying a trap for you. But he failed. He was also moving his tribe, which is why he left only one behind."

"Which direction?" Nascha asked.

"South, he encountered us where he was going to move the tribe."

"Did he say anything else?" She gave Aquene a wry smile. "You did better than me. I was captured by him. Don't speak Arapaho."

Aquene wrinkled her nose. "We are all taught some. They are the biggest raiders in recent years. He was tracking a group of Navajo because he missed some. And he thought that he could use them to find his wife that has gone missing."

Nascha snorted. "His wife. Good one. Following Navajo?"

"He thought he had a trail of one that was wounded," Aquene told her.

She brought her head up sharply. Wounded? Someone else from my family might be alive? "Someone must have survived."

"So he thought," the other woman said.

Nascha nodded. "Thank you, Aquene. We take you to the tribe tomorrow, maybe."

"I understand. Am I to be one of their wives?" Nascha could see the fear in Aquene, and the misery, and thought she was definitely old enough to have been married and have children. She had lost as much as Nascha had.

They had better not be planning on marrying this woman to one of them. "You're not planning to marry this girl to anyone, are you?" she asked Cheveyo silently.

He glanced over at her. "No, but I don't what to do with her either. We can try to find another Sioux tribe, or she can live with Hania for now. It's not high on the list of things to do though."

Nascha relaxed. "Thanks, she replied to him. To Aquene, she said, "Not unless you want to be. You'll be living with Hania. Might find another Sioux tribe for you to go to."

Aquene's whole body folded forward slightly. "Thank you. The Spanish were unkind."

"I saw some of that. I'm sorry." Nascha's words were heartfelt.

She smiled in recognition of the sentiment. "Oh, one more thing. Chogan took the blankets of the sick with him."

Bewildered, Nascha asked, "Did he say why?"

Aquene shrugged. "No. I thought it strange enough to mention it."

"It is. Thank you." Nascha rose and went to get her blanket, giving it to Aquene to guard against the desert chill that was swiftly descending. One of the others would have an extra she could have, she knew. She glanced over the rest. Hania was crouching next to a prone Otaktay, looking at him, and Zotum was sitting on his brother's left, looking worried. Adoeete and Dichali were preparing a meal.

Cheveyo was for the moment still, standing near the edge of the firelight, looking outward. "Care to come take a walk with me?" she asked him. "I have something I want to talk to you about."

He started, and turned. "Of course. This way?"

Beyond the light of the fire, the desert darkness descended quickly. In places like this, the sky was an upended bowl, stars clinging to the surface of the sky like ground corn. The moon was beginning to rise. Nascha stopped, looking up. Over her head, a shape briefly blotted out the stars. An owl, she thought, silently hunting in the sky. "I'm thinking about going to look for Tse in spiritworld. I don't know how to go looking, though," she said to Cheveyo.

It took Cheveyo a moment to respond. "I can save you the trouble. I don't think he is there."

The breath caught in Nascha's throat and for a moment it was all she could do to keep her hands still. "Why not?"

"I looked and called, but no one comes," he said.

"Is that something only you can do, or something that all spiritwalkers can do? The looking and calling?" Her silent words tumbled over each other. Tse might be alive--Aquene said Chogan was going after someone wounded--

"So far it's just me, otherwise it seems to be random."

There were a bewildering array of feelings rising in her, and she shook her head slightly as if the motion might settle the thoughts and feelings rolling around in her head. "Aquene said that Chogan thought someone wounded might have escaped. Maybe it was Tse."

She had turned away a little from Cheveyo, and she felt and heard him move so he was beside her once more. "How do you feel?" he asked.

She took a breath, trying to find the words. Missing Tse was abruptly almost a physical blow to her. "I've spent all this time grieving him, and now he might be alive. I just--I'm happy about it, but if I find him again, I don't think being married to him and being a spiritwalker can live side by side." She tried to imagine it, tried to imagine explaining to Tse what she had become, when she had thought he was dead.

"It can work. Dichali and others have done it," Cheveyo said. "But I don't know how it will work, since you are female. He is unlikely to want to stay home, waiting for you."

She gave him a small smile, seeing very little but a memory of Tse's eyes and hands. "And he can't really come along with us." She shook her head again, trying to clear it, and gave Cheveyo another smile, this one wry. "Your wife decides she prefers running around with seven men to staying home and raising a family with you. Not something most men will tolerate. And Tse is...well, that's not something he'd ever be happy about."

"I am sorry that your life turned this way," Cheveyo said softly.

She swallowed, pushed a breath out of her lungs. "We'll see. Maybe Tse will be more flexible than I think he will be. I'd say I could put off finding him, but Chogan sounds like he's trying to track him down."

"For? My Sioux is poor."

"He's going to use them to find his wife that's gone missing. Which would be me." Her voice turned sharp, annoyed. "Though I don't know how the Arapaho do these things, but at least we require that wives be there for the marriage ceremony, and I don't remember any such thing."

Cheveyo shook his head. "There is, but the translation for wife and betrothed in Arapaho is basically the same word."

"Why on earth does he think I'm still alive?" she asked, the sense of bewilderment returning, bringing with it a generous portion of disgust. "I would have died, if you hadn't come along."

The silence that Cheveyo left between them was just a heartbeat too long, but she did not stop to wonder why, after his next words. "If he has someone that can call like I can. He would know you didn't die."

"True, he wouldn't have found me. So he probably assumes I made it back to the ones who escaped." She made a face. "I don't even know why he'd want me back. He destroys enough tribes, you'd think young women would be easy to come by. He had Aquene, and he gave her to the Spanish."

He twitched the corner of his mouth. "You escaped."

Surprise wreathed her, and then she had to chuckle. "Because he was an idiot and forgot to tie me up. Must have stung his pride."

"Yes, he had a woman get away and survive. Also, you might know he is a skinwalker. If he was on peyote when you escaped, he may not remember much, and may have said things he doesn't want out."

Chogan had never tried to talk to her very much; he might not know that she spoke not a word of Arapaho. "So he wants to bring me back, and he thinks he can use my family to do so. They're probably back with the larger tribe we broke off from."

Cheveyo nodded sharply. "Right, and Tse leads him right to them."

She licked parched lips. "If so, there's not much we can do for them now." Her voice sounded small and numb, even to her.

"Not without trying to warn them, which we can try to do."

Nascha nodded. "I think Chogan may be trying to draw me there. Going there could endanger us all."

"It can't be us all. It will just be four," he said, as if his mind were already made up.

She gave him a look that was half doubt, half sudden, wild hope. "I want to warn them, but if it's too dangerous..."

He smiled. "It probably is too dangerous, but it's the right thing to do. These are your people. It's your decision."

Nascha was aware of how the question Cheveyo was asking her was hanging in the air between them. These were her brothers. But Chogan was headed right for her family, her tribe. With a start, she realized that there had never been any real question that she was going to try to do something. Warn her tribe, try to get Tse out of harm's way, bring him and Ahiga and Yas to safety...she could deal with telling Tse about being a spiritwalker later. What mattered was that he was likely alive, and that she loved him enough that she could not abide not at least making the attempt.

"I really want to warn them. It might not help, but at least they would have warning," she said slowly.

"Then pick who you want to go with, and go," he said.

She thought briefly. "Pezi, Zotum. Do you need to be here?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't."

"I'd like you to come along, then, if you're willing," she said.

"More than. All you have to do is ask, which you did. Tonight or tomorrow?"

There was no question in her mind. "Tonight, the sooner we go the better. They may be distracted tonight."

She felt him widen his speech out to the rest. "Pezi, Zotum. Time to go." He looked at her and gave her a brief smile. "Let's go then, Nascha."

"We can start at the old village and I can track them from there," she said. She raised a hand to her face, remembering that they were still in paint. There wasn't time enough to wash, and besides, it might still be needed.

They stopped briefly to pick up weapons, and then the four of them were moving through spiritworld at a good clip, heading to the village where the tribe had been before her family had split away from them. She tracked them with reasonable ease, despite the age of the tracks, and found that they were in their way south to the winter grounds. It was a drier camp, but it was also more sheltered from the winter when Changing Woman lay dying before her rebirth in the spring.

They caught up to the tribe easily, coming out of spiritworld at the edge of the fires of their night camp. Everything looked peaceful, and Nascha breathed out in relief. "Follow me," she said to the others, and walked into the camp.

She had forgotten that she and the three others were in paint, and the panic that burst outward from them came as a surprise and a shock. Mothers snatched up children, men dove for their weapons, shouts rippled through the camp. Nascha was looking around, but she did not see her grandfather, Ahiga, or Tse. She raised her voice to try to explain, but the babble from around her and the abruptly drawn bows drowned her out.

A male voice cut across the nose. "What is this?" The voice belonged to an old man, his hair gone grey, with a face that lifted Nascha's heart because it was so familiar. It was the leader of the elders, Moki, her grandfather's elder brother. He stopped now, and stared. "Nascha?"

"Moki. It's me. I have a warning for you," she said, near shouting to be heard.

Moki raised his hand, and the noise of voices died away. "What is it?"

"There's a group of Arapaho skinwalkers who are tracking you. They're following the trail of someone from our smaller village who was wounded." Her voice caught on the word wounded.

"We will move right away. Thank you, Nascha." He paused, looking at her, seeming to drink her in. "Your life has changed."

She almost laughed. It was so like Moki, to sum up her dressed like a man with wrapped braids and paint on her face, with her Apache brothers at her back, with the words Your life has changed.. She nodded, and answered the unasked question. "It has. I became a spiritwalker."

Moki lifted his gaze to see those behind her. She wondered what he saw in them. "A woman spiritwalker of the Apache. I did not think it could be."

"The question was asked and I answered, and here I am." She took a breath. "Sakhyo and her son Nastas are alive, but held by the Arapaho. We're going to try and bring them back."

"If you find them, bring them back here. We will take care of them if you so choose."

"I will," she said. "Did Yas and Ahiga make it back?"

"They came for supplies. We have not seen them again."

Then they were still following the tribe. "The attack happened before they came back. I don't know what happened to them. Someone took care of the bodies, so I think they came back and have been following you."

Moki inclined his head. "Wounded, as you say, they would be hard pressed to keep up with us. Which means they are probably still far behind."

"Likely. I will try to find them." She drew I need to go, Moki, but I wanted to give you warning. And be careful of strange blankets. I don't know why blankets, but whatever they have in mind, it's not good."

"I will remember that. Thank you Nascha." He smiled at her. "Good luck finding Tse."

Nascha started, and then relaxed. Moki had known her from a baby, and she had always been utterly transparent to him. She smiled. "Thank you." With a word to the others, she stepped into spiritworld, and started looking for those who were lost.

They ended up splitting up to cover more ground, and it was a long night spent searching the country between the old camp and the tribe. It was near dawn when Zotum flashed Nascha an image of two horses, one of them carrying one man, the other two.

Nascha's breath came almost as a sob. The one riding alone was Ahiga. The one in front on the other horse was her grandfather, and there was someone else slumped on Yas's back, nearly unconscious from how it looked. The horses looked exhausted, their heads hanging low.

"That's them, or at least people who look like them," she said.

Pezi's voice came to them now, a single word. "Trouble."

"What kind?" she asked.

"The Chogan kind." He flashed out an image of a group of four shapes, two animal and two human, moving in from the north. "I don't see the other four."

Nascha was in motion now, moving towards Zotum, as were the others. "We need to go back to the rest. If we don't know where the other four are, they might have found us," she said.

"Pezi, can you make it?" Cheveyo asked.

"With one, yes, before they attack."

They were getting closer now, she could see Cheveyo, and he looked at her. "Nascha?" he asked.

This was her family. Her decision. "Take Tse, he's the wounded one. Without him, they might not know that these are the ones they're looking for."

But Cheveyo was shaking his head. "Chogan won't let them live either way," he said, and there was a warning in his voice.

She could save one, and only one. She thought for a moment, thought about Tse and her grandfather, how Sakhyo depended on Ahiga, how much she loved and missed Tse. She clenched her teeth. "Ahiga, the one riding alone. Sakhyo and Nastas will need him."

"Pezi, go."

Pezi took three steps and came out into the world right under Ahiga's horse's nose. The horse, understandably startled, reared and threw Ahiga. Pezi was in motion, wrapping one hand around Ahiga's wrist. "Run as fast as you can. You have Arapaho skinwalkers behind you," Pezi said, and then disappeared and reappeared next to Nascha, an utterly astonished Ahiga starting to struggle in his grip.

Yas kicked the horse as the arrows started to fly, and Nascha held her breath. Her grandfather wove the horse with such skill, seeming to know where the arrows were going to fall before they did, seeming almost to dance between them. Nascha thought for a long, aching moment that somehow, her grandfather would be able to carry Tse and himself to safety--

An arrow struck the horse in the front knee, and it stumbled and then fell, Tse and Yas going down in a heap with it. As they fell, arrows seemed to come from all sides, and in horror Nascha watched as they thudded into her husband and her grandfather, as the blood seemed to spray out of them in a cloud.

No. No, please, no, no, no...

She was helpless, and she could not stop staring.

"Go," Cheveyo said. "All of you."

Cheveyo's voice broke the grip the horror held her in, and she closed her eyes briefly, turned, and ran.

They made it back to the shadow of the hill where they were camped, and discovered that there had been no disturbances while they were gone. Ahiga was still held in Pezi's grip, and he looked rather green from the movement through spiritworld. "Nascha?" he asked. "Nascha, is that you?"

She was covering her mouth with one hand, and her composure was lost past retrieval. She nodded briefly and then turned and walked away from her brothers. She could not talk to Ahiga right now. Could not face the decision she had just made. Tse...Grandfather...

Cheveyo's voice came to her, sounding worried. "Alone or company?"

She paused to consider, and then said silently, "Company, please?"

He fell in beside her, and they walked together east, towards where the sun was beginning to rise. Looking at the fire that was touching the horizon, her vision swam with tears, and she stopped walking because she couldn't see properly any more. She reached out to Cheveyo, grabbing his hand, intending only to let him know she was stopping.

Cheveyo stepped close, putting his free hand on her shoulder and turning her in towards him, putting an arm around her as she broke down sobbing. Everything inside of her hurt, and her throat felt like she had swallowed a thornbush. She could not stop seeing Tse and her grandfather with arrows sticking out of them, falling to the ground with the horse screaming under them.

The sobs dwindled to hiccups, eventually, and Nascha found herself calming a bit. "How am I going to be able to live with myself?" she asked Cheveyo. "I know why I made the decision. But how do you live with it?"

"I don't have an answer to that," he told her, silent voice grave. "You just do. You made the only choice you could."

"Sakhyo is going to need Ahiga. I as much as killed Tse and Grandfather." A sob rose in her throat, and she let it come. She leaned her forehead against Cheveyo's shoulder. "I wish that hadn't been the decision I needed to make."

There was a certain stern note in his voice. "You killed no one. Chogan did. You saved one life that would have been lost. Chogan would have killed all three in minutes had we not been there."

I could not save them all. But oh, she'd wanted to. She nodded. "You're right. I wish we could have saved them all. We couldn't."

"There was no time, and I hate those choices." The arm that was slung around her shoulders tightened slightly. "But it wasn't mine to make. I wish it would have been, to save you the burden."

"Thank you." She swallowed past the thornbush in her throat. "I'm going to have to live with this one for the rest of my life."

"I know. We all have those moments in our life."

Nascha nodded, remembering some of the scenes of battles Cheveyo had fought. He had plenty of those moments. She rubbed her eyes. "I think I'll be all right. I should go talk to Ahiga."

"I wish I could say or do more for you, Nascha." There was pain shared in his voice, and it made her feel better, to know that her brother was here and listening to her, that all of them were here.

She hugged him, then let go and stepped back. "This was enough. Thank you." She turned towards the camp. "I need to talk to Ahiga. He probably thinks he's just been taken captive." She walked off without another word, her mind on what she had to tell Ahiga.

Ahiga was talking--or rather, just listening--to Dichali, who looked overjoyed that he had a new audience. "Ahiga?" she said, and her voice came out scratchy and raw.

He turned and came forward, sweeping her up into a hug. "Nascha, little one, what happened to you? What are you doing with a bunch of Apaches? The one over there was telling me you've become some kind of warrior--"

"Spiritwalker," she said, and released Ahiga to step back. "I and Sakhyo and Nastas were captured. I escaped, but I would have died out in the desert if these people hadn't found me."

"Oh," he said, giving her a considering look. "Sakhyo and Nastas?"

Nascha shook her head. "Still there. I couldn't bring her and Nastas out with me. We're trying to get her, but the warriors that have her are like us, able to walk the spiritworld." She paused, took a breath. "They were going to marry her to one of the warriors."

"I thought as much," Ahiga said, and pain twisted his voice. "It's what we assumed happened when we didn't find your bodies."

She took a shaky breath. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"We got back probably two days after the attack," he said. "We looked for survivors and found Tse, with a hatchet wound in his back. Yas did what he could for him, and then we let him rest while we dealt with the dead and packed up anything we could use. We decided to go back to Moki's tribe and get more people to look for you. We couldn't tell what direction you had gone or how far you'd been taken, so we were going to go find more people to look. It took eight days to build the platforms, to post all of the dead to the sky. We got back to the summer camp and found everyone gone, starting south towards winter grounds. We knew we were traveling about the same speed they were, and were hoping to catch them when they settled down for winter camp." Ahiga caught her hand. "Little one, I'm so sorry. I know how much you loved Tse. If it helps..." She looked up to see that Ahiga was struggling to find words. "Tse was very badly wounded. He'd lost the use of his right arm, probably permanently. It was still a question whether he was going to survive. The wound went bad, and it was all we could do to keep him on the horse. But when he was awake, all he could talk about was going to find you."

It did not make her feel any better, but she squeezed Ahiga's hand gently anyway. She let go and stepped away, struggling to maintain her composure. She went to the shade of a nearby rock and sat down, facing away from the others.

One by one, her spiritwalker brothers came by to see her and offer her their condolences. Pezi and Sahale were silent, only stopping to touch her shoulder and send wordless comfort to her. Dichali was not nearly so reserved, dropping to his knees beside where she sat and pulling her into a hard hug. Zotum came and sat by her for a while and he and Otaktay talked to her for a bit, Otaktay not able to move far enough to sit next to her but wanting to convey his regrets anyway. Adoeete, too, came to lay a hand on her shoulder and sit with her for a time in silence. After a while, he slung an arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him.

After Adoeete had gotten up, Cheveyo came to take his place, and he stayed with her for the rest of the day. He made her eat and drink over her protests that she wasn't hungry by threatening to force-feed her if she didn't cooperate, that she needed to keep her strength up.

It was a long, terrible day. Nascha didn't sleep that night, either, and in the morning Cheveyo said that they were going to take Hania, Ahiga, and Aquene to the Apache tribe and bring the horses back. So after dawn, Nascha, Cheveyo, Zotum, and Pezi stepped into spiritworld, Pezi holding Aquene's arm.

As she walked through spiritworld, a sick feeling came over her when she saw Tse's face in the crowd that was gathered by the place where she'd walked into spiritworld. Those spirits who had been recently alive tended to stay by the barrier, hoping that their deaths were not true, that they would go back to their bodies, wake from this dream.

She flinched when she saw Tse, and turned her face away. She was not ready to talk to him yet, and she speeded up her footsteps until she was almost running, thinking, I'm sorry, Tse, I'm so sorry...

Pezi made another couple of trips to get the other two, and Cheveyo checked in with the tribe to discover they had seen nothing unusual in the last few days. They settled Ahiga and Aquene in with Hania for the moment, and then got the horses and left towards the others.

It was a quiet trip, aside from all of the talking Dichali was still doing, giving them a running commentary on everything he was seeing around him. It was a rough few days, but being in motion seemed to help, Una's silent presence under her a constant assurance that she was not alone. It took them two days to get to the others with the horses, and when they arrived at the camp, Nascha saw with some relief that Otaktay was doing much better, even sitting up now.

But as soon as they arrived and dismounted, Adoeete came to Cheveyo, his brows drawn together and anger in his eyes. He pulled Cheveyo away from the rest of them. Though Nascha could feel the tension and almost hear the silent argument they were having, both of them were very good at keeping their conversation silent.

Nascha dropped down beside Dichali. "What's stuck in Adoeete's throat this time?" she asked.

"He's a bit mad about the whole army thing," Dichali said, a bit sourly.

She tilted her head. "What about it? They were a threat, and we took care of it."

Dichali shook his head. "Ah, but we left some alive. Which means that some of them lived to tell the tale and it will get back to the Spanish and they will come after us. The Apache did it. See?"

She sucked in a breath. "I do. I didn't know any had lived."

"We didn't have time to get them all. There were about fifty. We must have killed under half. And then we retreated, when Otaktay got hurt." He gave he just the barest smile. "So, a good Apache should have gone out again, but we go to warn a Navajo tribe."

Nascha flushed. "Ah. I see. Adoeete's probably not really pleased with me at the moment either, then."

"Probably not. And then we take two days to get the horses." He glanced over at Adoeete and Cheveyo. Cheveyo's mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes cold as night-chilled stone, and Adoeete was scowling. "So they are having a conversation which will last until Cheveyo walks away from him. Which is just about now." A heartbeat later, Cheveyo turned on his heel and walked away. Adoeete did not follow, though he still looked like he was holding back a murderous rage.

"How long does it take for Adoeete to calm down?" she asked Dichali.

Dichali shrugged. "Until he gets his way, usually."

"Any idea what he wants Cheveyo to do?"

"Go back and kill the rest of the stragglers. This makes it harder because it will only be four of us. Chogan will assume that is what we are going to do, and they may have scattered making it nearly assured that one gets back."

"He'll be waiting for us to come after them," she said, understanding.

"You got it." He smiled briefly. "Hence the argument."

She took a long breath. "I see. We should go after the stragglers, Chogan or no Chogan."

Dichali twitched an eyebrow. "Go tell them, then."

She gave him a dubious look. "I ought to. Not looking forward to stepping into the middle of that argument, though. Even if the conversation's ended."

"Go with Cheveyo first. He will give you the warmer reception, I am sure."

She nodded. "Likely. Since Adoeete's unhappy with me." She turned away and walked to Cheveyo, who had pulled out a hatchet and was tending to the edge. She dropped to her heels next to him. Silently, so only he could hear, she said, "Adoeete wants us to go after the stragglers, doesn't he."

Cheveyo didn't look up. "He does."

"You think we shouldn't?"

The tall man's tone was sour. "He thinks I made a mistake. To be honest, he is right. We should have killed them all."

"I had no idea we'd left any alive. I didn't think about it at all." She twisted her mouth. "If I'd known we had, I likely wouldn't have suggested going to find my family."

"I know but it was my decision, wrong or right, and not your fault."

Nascha was not entirely convinced. "So, are we going after the stragglers?"

Cheveyo nodded. "Morning, yes, we will, but I am going to let Adoeete stew for awhile."

"I don't know, I think he's been stewing for days already."

"I know, but I hate to concede so quickly. Spoils my image," he said, giving her a smile.

She blew a breath out. "You two like picking at each other, don't you?"

Cheveyo chuckled with little humor. "We do. It's a whole hate/hate issue."

"In this case, I think the sooner we move, the better. My opinion." She shrugged.

"I know. It's nearly night. Get some sleep, I will wake you early and we will go before dawn. Adoeete hates being woken up," he said with a sharp smile.

"So it's going to be you, me, Adoeete. Who's the fourth?" she asked.

"Good question. Suggestions?"

Nascha blinked; there he went, asking her questions again like she had been a spiritwalker for years instead of less than a season. Briefly, she wondered if there weren't another reason for it. It felt sometimes like she were training for a position of leadership, but it should be years before those of longer tenure than her were all gone and she would have to worry about leading. She thought about the question anyway. "We're going to be moving fast and needing to kill from a distance. I would say Zotum, myself."

Cheveyo smiled. "A good suggestion. But I was going to go with Sahale."

She narrowed her eyes, thinking. "He can talk to them, if we need. And he hates them."

"That was my thinking. Just wanted to check yours. Thanks for the suggestion." He smiled at her, and for the first time since she had seen Tse and her grandfather go down in a cloud of blood, she felt a little lightening of her mood.

She smiled back, just a little. "I'll go catch some sleep."

Sleep came easily that night, and the next thing Nascha knew, Cheveyo was shaking her shoulder. The sky wasn't quite starting to lighten, yet. "Up time. Wake up."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and reaching for her shoes. "Time for paint?" She saw the starlight reflecting on the white paint on Cheveyo's face, the red line looking black in the dim light.

"Yes, Sahale is doing Adoeete's and we have done ours. I need to do yours."

"You let me sleep later than the others," she said with a smile. "All right, paint me."

Cheveyo brought out his pots, and Nascha sat still with her face upturned. Cheveyo took a long time to paint her face. She thought it was partly because her design was intricate, but also suspected that it was an excuse to touch her face lingeringly, an excuse he did not otherwise have. He likes me. I wonder if he likes me too much. She was starting to suspect him of being easy on her because he liked her, but now was not the time to bring that up.

And to tell the truth, she rather liked sitting here with him putting paint on her face. It felt a little like betrayal of her love for Tse, but she was starting to figure out that she liked this man, possibly too much for her own good. She put it out of her mind as Cheveyo finished, and they got up to go.

They went back to the original Spanish encampment, and from there Nascha found that two groups had left. One had left to the south, the other to the southwest, and one of the groups was larger than the other. Though Nascha circled the camp twice, she saw no sign of stragglers or solo wanderers. "Larger group or smaller group first?" she asked the group.

"Larger group probably," Cheveyo answered.

She nodded and got to tracking. The larger group had twenty people in it, and as she followed, she discovered that they had split and split again into smaller groups. They had a few horses, but they were mostly walking, it seemed. This was good news, though it meant it would take longer to track them down. Nascha swallowed as she found the first group of six. It was understood that she would be participating in the killing of these men, no matter that she had only killed a man once before in her life and that had only been a few days ago.

They came out of spiritworld silently, Nascha with drawn bow, Cheveyo, Adoeete, and Sahale with hatchets out. It was over in heartbeats, and they pulled the tack off the horses and let them loose, letting the human bodies lie where they fell.

The scene was repeated again and again through the day, until there were only two from this group, a pair who had doubled back on themselves and crossed and recrossed their trail. Nascha stopped, finally, shaking her head. "Leave these two for the moment and go after the rest, or finish hunting these down? I'm not sure these are even Spanish."

"How's your sight working?" Cheveyo asked. "You were thinking they were Spanish and probably got an image of a Spanish soldier."

"They're wearing boots like the Spanish. Let me look." She stepped into spiritworld and looked at the tracks before her, thinking, if these were natives wearing Spanish boots...

The ghostly image of two natives came into focus, wearing ill-fitting, hard-soled boots. One of them was probably Eyanosa, from the height and weight. The other was less clear--it might be any one of several people among the skinwalkers. "I think one of them is Eyanosa, one of Chogan's. The other is probably native, but there are several people in the group that he might be."

"Trap. Let them go." Cheveyo stepped into spiritworld as he spoke. "Let's get back to the other group."

They went back to the camp and followed the tracks of the other group, going to the southeast. This group had held together for longer than the other one had, but eventually two smaller groups split off of the main group. The one heading directly south was another pair of Chogan's men. The other two were Spanish for sure, heading north. Those tracks looked like they knew where they were going, heading out on foot.

The remaining eleven had stayed together, still heading southeast. She gave an outline of what she was seeing to the others, and stood, looking inquiring. "Eleven move more slowly than two," Cheveyo said. "Adoeete? You probably have something to say."

"We follow you, not the other way around," Adoeete said sharply. "But my advice is the eleven."

"Any idea where the two might be going?" Nascha asked.

"They look like they are heading to the great canyon. Adoeete is probably right. Take the eleven, they are heading south toward the Spanish. We come back for those two heading north. They are less a threat that direction."

Nascha didn't quite agree, but she nodded and stepped into spiritworld. Those two knew where they were going, she thought. Dangerous men, who know where they're going in hostile territory...

She did not argue, however, and followed the group of eleven. They were easy to find and easy to kill, and the thing was done before the sun was properly down. Then they turned north as night fell, and the moon rose and cast long soft shadows on the landscape. "I can keep going, I think," Nascha said. "What about the rest of you?"

Cheveyo nodded. "Go as long as you can."

She nodded and did so. The rhythm of walking and looking for tracks, seeing the images of two men on foot before her, all of it was soothing. She didn't mind that she was getting tired, and that her eyes hurt. She would find these men if it took all night.

The men she was following had a good head start, and were to the great canyon by the time they caught up with them. They had taken a path down into the canyon that led to a flat spot at the base of a sheer cliff. Nascha stopped, looking. She could see the light from a fire in the cave mouth, flickering.

Nascha pointed with her chin. "Defensible for two people. They're expecting trouble."

"Then we wait," Cheveyo said. "It's going to be a cold night with no fire but we wait, they will come out eventually."

"All right. I want to take a look around quickly," Nascha said.

"I'll find a place to wait," Sahale said. He turned and began to look around while Nascha treaded down the path to the flat place. There were two others who had joined the two in the cave Nascha saw. Not Spanish, the boots were different, maybe a pair of traders. She relayed that to the rest and then went back up to the others.

"Four or forty, it makes no difference," Cheveyo said. Sahale had found a patch of sagebrush with a hole in the center and had broken a hole in the ring of brush that the cave mouth could be seen from. "Four shift watches. Me, Adoeete, Sahale and Nascha." They settled into the clearing, and Nascha made herself as comfortable as she could and closed her eyes.

She drifted off quickly, and was woken by Sahale, who shook her gently awake. "Still there," he said silently, and rolled over to curl up and sleep.

It was bitterly cold at this hour of the night, and Nascha tucked her hands into her armpits as she moved so she could see the cave mouth. She could hear her fellow spiritwalkers breathing, wind sighing over the edge of the canyon, a very distant howl of a wolf, and the answer of its pack.

There was no movement from the cave mouth, and their fire seemed to have burned very low indeed. Nascha waited, and watched, and listened.

Finally, as false dawn was lightening the sky, she saw movement and came to her knees as she saw a Spanish walk out from the cave mouth, fumble with his trousers, start pissing over the edge into the canyon. It was such a tempting shot, she could kill him from here. She extended a foot behind her, nudging Cheveyo in the side. "Wake up!" she said urgently.

He was awake almost before she finished speaking. "What?"

Nascha was pulling an arrow, fitting it to her bowstring. "One just came out. If I hit him, it won't be long before the rest know we're here. Wanted the rest of you awake."

He stood, dusting himself off. "Let me know if anyone else comes out." He stopped into spiritworld, vanishing, and Nascha woke Sahale and Adoeete quickly then returned to watching the cave mouth.

Cheveyo appeared behind the peeing Spanish, and in a single swift motion cut his throat. There was a split second before the man was aware that he had been hit where he stood stock-still. Then his knees buckled and Cheveyo caught him and helped him to the ground, pushing him over the edge so his body fell into the river below.

He vanished into spiritworld and reappeared in the brush ring. He began tearing a new hole in the brush, and Adoeete and Sahale were doing the same. "Nascha, take the first one out the door. We will get the next ones."

She nodded and returned to watching, her whole body strung tight. There was a call from inside the cave, one of the ones inside calling for the one who had just died, and Nascha drew her bow as she saw a stirring at the cave mouth. The man was striding out, looking around, and Nascha released.

Her arrow flew true, and the Spanish looked down, surprised, at the arrow that had just buried itself in his chest. He fell, spreading his hands, looking confused. Two more came when they heard their fellow fall, and they both got arrows--one in his eye, the other in his throat. Both were dressed as traders.

The one Adoeete had hit in the throat was making moaning noises, but as they stepped into spiritworld and then out next to the bodies, Cheveyo bent and checked them to see if they were still alive. "This one is still alive but dying quickly," Cheveyo said of the one who had fallen with an arrow in his throat. "Adoeete, can you get anything out of him?"

"Probably," Adoeete said. He grabbed the guy's head and concentrated. He gave them images, guns in the crates, skins and blankets in bags. The trader had not known who they were for, or why the transfer was to be made here in the middle of what he considered nowhere. Cheveyo considered, nodded, and Adoeete swiftly broke the man's neck.

"Take them to the cliff and toss them over," Cheveyo said, and Nascha grabbed the closest body, the remaining Spanish. She wondered briefly who this man had been, what had brought him to this land from wherever the Spanish came from. Then she pushed him over the edge of the cliff and listened as his body thumped and tumbled down, taking a shower of pebbles with it. The sun was almost rising, and the colors in the walls of the canyon were coming to life. Nascha stood for a moment and just looked. She had never been to the great canyon, though her grandfather had as a youth. He told her about the colors in the stone, how they looked like the gods had painted them.

She could almost hear his voice in her memory, and she closed her eyes briefly. Then she opened them and went inside the cave, following the others. Adoeete was throwing some wood on the fire to make it flare up. It was crackling, leaping up, hungry. Sahale had opened two crates. "Guns," he said briefly.

There was another crate against the far wall, and Nascha went to open it. She recoiled when she saw that it was full of skins--fox, bear, human. The crate reeked of old blood and dried skin. There were some bags next to the skins, and when she opened them she saw that they were blankets, fouled and stinking. She pulled her hand away and backed up. "These must be those blankets Aquene spoke of."

"Close them, we will lay them on the fire when we go," Cheveyo said.

She did so, gingerly. "But why would they be handing off skins and scalps, unless it's part of the payment for the skinwalkers?"

"I would bet the skins and guns were for Chogan. But I bet that these two knew where they were and didn't tell Chogan. He probably thought that only the leader knew. But these two did, and thought they would take them." He looked around. "Make some nice trades for this. Take the boxes of guns. Burn the rest."

The fire had caught and was burning merrily, and Nascha helped place the skins and bags of blankets so they would catch fire. "We'll rest nearby for the rest of the day," Cheveyo said. "Just to see if any skinwalkers come by."

They all pushed into spiritworld and took a walk for a bit, going to a place a little farther from the cave than they had been. Nascha, as they walked, realized that she had an apology to make to Adoeete. She was carrying one of the boxes of guns with him, and as she set it down, she pulled him aside and asked him to walk with her a little ways.

When they were out of sight of the rest, Nascha said, "I wanted to apologize, Adoeete."

He looked genuinely confused. "For what?"

"I wouldn't have suggested going after my family if I'd known some of the Spanish were left alive. I know that in the end it was Cheveyo's decision, but I feel partially responsible."

"You were protecting your family. There is no fault in that." He shook his head, the lean lines of his face thrown into sharp relief by the sun. "It's Cheveyo's fault for not remembering his priorities. Apache first, for we are their spiritwalkers. I just reminded him of that and you know how he likes to be reminded of things."

Nascha made a face. "I've gathered. I think he maybe likes me a little too much. It's worrying me."

"He does like you. That is very obvious," Adoeete said. He almost smiled, then. "Maybe that is why women normally weren't spiritwalkers."

She almost blushed, but told herself sternly that there was no shame in being the first of something new. "I was thinking the same thing. I can try to tell him not to go easy on me just because he likes me."

Adoeete shook his head sharply. "He is not going easy on you. He is making decisions in favor of you. That is what needs to change. Maybe you can get through to him where I cannot."

"I can try. He might listen to me." Absently, she unwrapped the leather from one of her braids and began to re-wrap it. "I was meaning to talk to him about it anyway."

"You have a much better chance than I do," Adoeete said. "Do not think that this is in any way your fault. It wasn't, and there are no hard feelings on my side for you."

Nascha relaxed, and realized then that she had been afraid that Adoeete was angry with her and wasn't saying anything about it. Silly. He has to come talk to me if he's angry. The things not spoken poison the bond. "I'm glad," she said. "I'm trying to learn a lot, and I'm bound to make mistakes."

"We all did. Except maybe me, of course." Adoeete smiled, a rare enough occurrence that Nascha gave him a smile in return. It changed his face entirely when he smiled, she thought. Maybe that was why he did not do it often.

"Let me guess, you thought you made a mistake once, but you were wrong?" she asked, teasing.

"Ha, I am never wrong."

Nascha laughed. "I see, Adoeete."

He smiled again, gently. "Go have a talk with him. He will be glad of your company, if not the words you have to say."

She nodded, and they walked back to the others. "Cheveyo, I need to talk to you about something," she said to him.

That usually means I am in trouble," Cheveyo said dryly. He fell in beside her, and she started walking in the opposite direction that she'd gone with Adoeete. She stopped just out of sight of the others. "What is on your mind, Nascha?"

She smiled. "Maybe not trouble, so much. I've been seeing lately that you've been allowing me in influence your decisions. I know you like me, but...you do have priorities."

Cheveyo didn't look happy to have this brought up. "Been talking to Adoeete, I see."

"Yes, but it's something I was thinking about before I spoke with him."

He took a sharp breath. "So no lies between us. What do you think? And what do you want me to do?"

"I think I need to be just another spiritwalker, when it comes to making decisions about where we go and what we do," she said, slowly. "Anything else between us shouldn't influence the decisions you make. I don't want to be a drag on this group, and if you start putting me ahead of the others and of the tribe in your thoughts, I will be." She thought for a moment, and added, "I do like you, Cheveyo, and I'm not ruling out that there might be something between us, some day."

Cheveyo nodded. The troubled look had not left his eyes. "It may look like I was doing that for you, but it was more for myself."

Surprised, she asked, "Yourself?"

"If your husband was still alive, then my feelings could be buried," he admitted.

She glanced away from him, absorbing that truth. "I see. But there wasn't enough time to save him. Well, I understand why you made the decision you did, at least."

"So even though you influenced my decision, it was personal as well," he said. "I didn't want to tell Adoeete that. So we did what we normally do. Fight."

She looked at him, furrowing her brow. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to explain why you made the decision you did? I grant you, Adoeete's not easy to talk to about some things, I've noticed."

He smiled briefly. "Yes, it would have, but we fall into patterns."

"True enough. And the pattern of you and Adoeete is discordant," she said. "My grandmother would have taken you two out and glared at you until you two actually started talking to each other."

"We need that sometimes," he said, a chuckle in his voice.

"It sounds like it. Maybe you should talk to Adoeete, tell him the rest of the reason you made the decision you did."

He nodded. "I should, but you think the last argument was bad." He snorted, leaving her to imagine the argument that would follow the newest revelation.

"You two really do need someone to sit between you and make you be civil to each other, don't you?" she asked.

To her surprise, he nodded. "Yes, we do. We just take each other so seriously, and then we fight."

She firmed her mouth. "I could give it a try, if both of you agree. I've had years of watching my grandmother do something similar between my mother and Sakhyo's mother. They may have been sisters, and they loved each other, but they never got along very well. I don't know if I'd be any good at it, and I don't know if I'm the right person for it." She was not a peacemaker. She wasn't nearly old enough, or respected enough. But a peacemaker was needed here, and she would have to try to be what was needed.

"Yes," he said. "Ask Adoeete, but I am willing. It would be good to speak with him and not know that our talk is going to involve shouting at each other."

"When we get back to the others," she said. "We should go keep watch now."

They watched for the rest of the day, but no skinwalkers came, and early the next morning they left to go back to the others. Otaktay was looking better now and his wound was healing, but his breathing was still ragged, and he could only stand with help. Nascha sat with him for a bit, then talked Zotum into helping her practice fighting, with Otaktay looking on and coaching. It was a distraction for him, and good practice for her.

As the air cooled in the evening, Nascha asked Adoeete if he would speak to Cheveyo with her as mediator. He agreed quickly enough that she thought he was almost relieved at the prospect of someone keeping them civil as they spoke. She got them to sit down and face each other, staring silently for a few moments. Then Cheveyo, his silent voice rapid, told Adoeete that the decision to go warn the Navajo was based on his emotions and only partially on Nascha.

Pezi's silent voice rang through all of their minds then. "CHOGAN!"

Nascha scrambled to her feet, all thought of continuing her mediation gone. "The horses. Send them an image of home and cut them loose," Cheveyo said, just to her. Then to all, he said, "Don't fight unless you have to escape."

She was running now, skidding to a stop where the horses were picketed for the night. She pulled up the stake and sent the horses a strong image of the Apache camp, then slapped the nearest on the rump. They squealed and began to run. Nascha paused long enough to pick up her bow and quiver and stepped into spiritworld, looking around her quickly.

Pezi had Otaktay mostly draped over him, trying to get him away, but there was Chogan coming up behind them, wearing the form of a person she didn't know. Her talent let her see through the skin, flickering images of the real man under the stolen form. Nascha pulled an arrow, but before she could move she saw Dichali tackle Chogan, taking them both out of spiritworld. The three skinwalkers with him also dropped out, and her breath caught in her throat.

She wanted to go after Dichali, but she knew well that she was no asset in a close fight. Cheveyo and Adoeete went after Dichali, Cheveyo's voice telling all to escape if they could. She went to Pezi, slid her shoulder under Otaktay's other arm. The big man was almost a dead weight on their shoulders. "Two can carry him faster," she said, and Pezi nodded in gratitude.

She could hear the battle going on in her mind, the voices of her brothers as they fought. She and Pezi exited spiritworld, changed direction, re-entered it once more.

She heard Dichali's voice, overlaid with pain. "We are both wounded, but I can't hold them off. Chogan will be months healing. I have bought you that much time--"

Then there was silence, and Nascha felt the connection between her mind and Dichali's drop.

Nascha fought to keep from doubling over. "I should go see if I can help the others," she said, and Pezi nodded. She transferred Otaktay's weight back to Pezi and went to find the others.

She found them, in ones and twos. Adoeete had an arrow in his hip, Cheveyo had a deep and bloody slash across his chest from a knife. Zotum had a wound in his shoulder that had nearly incapacitated that arm, and though Sahale looked undamaged, he was limping heavily. She guided them to Pezi and Otaktay, and went to see where Dichali had fallen.

He lay face-down in the dirt, and in the waning light she could see that the skinwalkers had taken the skin from his head and back, leaving nothing but raw meat in its place. Nausea gripped her. Dichali would never tell her stories again, the skinwalkers had taken him and made him into just so much meat.

She went to the body, rolling it over so Dichali was facing the sky. They could come back for his body later. Right now, she pushed back into spiritworld and caught up with the others. Cheveyo said, "Home. Sahale, help Pezi. Nascha, take the lead into spiritworld. Make sure we don't have company."

She nodded and took point, going slowly, making sure that there was nobody following them or waiting for them. It was, fortunately, a quick walk through spiritworld to the tribe, and when they arrived everyone went into action, calling for Hania and running to get blankets and supplies for dealing with wounds. There was suddenly a small crowd around each injured spiritwalker, and people kept asking Nascha if she was all right. She kept saying that she was, feeling abruptly superfluous.

From where he was lying, having his wound worked on, Cheveyo said, "Nascha. Can you bring me Dichali's wife?"

"I will," she said. Abequa had to be around somewhere looking for her husband, and as Nascha looked around, she caught a glimpse of her talking to one of the people who was working on Adoeete. She strode over to the woman, and cleared her throat.

Abequa turned. She was not a beautiful woman at the best of times, and worry didn't help, but all the same Nascha was hurting with the news that she was about to give. "Where is he?" Abequa asked.

Nascha swallowed. "Cheveyo needs to talk to you," she said, and took her arm.

"No," Abequa said, and as Nascha walked with her towards Cheveyo, she began to sob. The crowd opened before them, murmurs running out and away from them.

She brought Abequa to Cheveyo, and stood beside her as Cheveyo told her in spare words what had happened. She broke down, sinking to the ground where she was, screaming and crying. Nascha, trying to help, took hold of Abequa's hands, and held them as she sobbed.

Nascha felt as if she were a still pool of quiet, stunned by loss of Dichali. We do not grow old, Cheveyo's remembered voice said in her mind.

And for every spiritwalker that died, there were family and friends who grieved them. Dichali's children would never see him again. Nor would his wife, who had loved him beyond all reason, and he her. Nascha remembered Dichali's story, the love he had spoken of and shown, the tempestuousness of their relationship and how well it had suited both of them.

Abequa quieted, and thanked Nascha for being there. "I must go tell the children," she said, and rose, walking unsteadily through the crowd.

Nascha took a breath, then rose and went to see how everyone was doing. Pezi and she were the only ones unhurt, but Otaktay was still the worst hurt, and moving him had not helped his wound any. He was alive, though, and was likely going to stay that way for a bit.

She settled down next to Cheveyo. His chest was bandaged, and he was sitting up now, drinking some sort of steeped brew and grimacing. "What happens now?" she asked him. "Stay here until everyone is healed?"

Cheveyo nodded, and set his cup down. "We are seven again. We find more. We need to get to twelve."

"So I ask everyone I meet silently if they can hear me?"

"Yes, no one under sixty seasons unless we can't find them. We will go as low as forty-eight seasons, but no lower." He shifted, grimaced again, and she reached out to touch his shoulder, as if to steady him.

"All right, I can do that," she said quietly.

He smiled briefly. "Adoeete would tell me at this point to have you ask only men. Ignore him. We take any who have the calling." He lifted his cup again and drank. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Nascha considered the strange feeling in her chest, the memory of seeing Dichali lying too still in the dirt. "I feel--stunned, somehow. How are you? You knew him much longer than I did."

He inclined his head. "It will hurt later. But we go on. Like we always do."

"I knew that none of us live to be old. I didn't think I'd be seeing proof of that so soon."

"We are fighting a dangerous bunch," he said. "But twelve to his eight are better odds. I don't think he will add to his numbers. To do so requires that they have the spiritwalker calling and the morals of a bear. He would have to reveal his skinwalker nature."

"He's unlikely to do so, and he'll be down and healing for some time," she said contemplatively. "He got Dichali's skin, though."

"Which is useless unless he is going to do something using his skin to frame us for it. We all know he is dead and so is Chahta. He has to be doing something."

Nascha chewed the thought. "Does he know the things Dichali knew, if he wears his skin?"

He shook his head. "I was never a skinwalker, but legend says he can get some information from the dead by wearing the skin."

"We can't know what or how much he's getting, though," she said.

"He probably knows now about you." He paused, and took a breath. "Nascha, what I have to say next is going to be painful to hear, and I understand if you are going to be angry."

What could it be now? "What is it?" she asked.

"We are going to have to sit and heal and retrain more. It could be months before we are strong enough to sneak in and get your cousin."

The words were almost a physical blow. First Dichali, now this. But she sat and simply looked at Cheveyo, not moving, absorbing the information and fighting her way through the understanding of it. It was a while before she was able to speak. "I wish it weren't true. But it is, and I can't see any way around it. I don't think I can get her by myself."

"It will be weeks for Otaktay and then we are only seven. A huge Arapaho encampment and eight skinwalkers. Granted, Chogan and others are wounded, but still they will put up a fight."

She firmed her mouth. It made sense, too much sense, even though her heart was beating painfully within her. "It would get some or all of us killed. I understand. I am not happy about it, but I understand."

"I hope your cousin does," Cheveyo said.

Nascha nodded curtly. "She probably thinks I'm dead, at this point. I have no way to tell her that I'm not, as much as I wish I could. I'll talk to Ahiga, explain to him what's going on."

"I am sure he will not want to hear that," Cheveyo said. "Ask him, as well."

"I will, she said, and rubbed her forehead. There was a dull pain behind her eyes, tears gathered in her that she was too numb yet to shed. "I'm not looking forward to this conversation, but I should probably go have it. And I should probably go looking for Tse in spiritworld soon."

Cheveyo shifted, wincing. "I am sorry for the pain this is causing you," he said.

She nodded. "I keep thinking that it has to end, that it has to get easier. It's not yet."

"Not until Chogan dies."

"Or I do," she said. "Either way, it'll be over then."

He smiled slightly. "Chogan will die first, trust me."

She tilted her head, giving him a measuring look. "You seem awfully sure of that."

"I am." He looked back at her steadily, and did not elaborate.

Nascha chose not to pry. "I wish I shared your confidence, but I'll leave it to you for the moment."

Cheveyo smiled. "I appreciate the company, if you want to stall some more before talking to Ahiga," he offered.

"As much as I prefer sitting with you to having uncomfortable conversations with my family, I need to do this before I start dreading it too much," she said, almost smiling. "I'll come back, though."

"Good," he said, and she got to her feet before she could think too much more about the conversation she was about to have, and went to find Ahiga.