Ghost Hunter by Michelle Paver, Geoff Taylor Page A
Authors: Michelle Paver, Geoff Taylor
Tags: General, Historical, Juvenile Fiction, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Horror & Ghost Stories, Prehistory
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in."
133
[Image: Torak and Renn.]
TWENTY-ONE
Torak had no time to take in what Renn had told him. The camp sprang into action, people running to harness dogs and prepare the sleds.
He and Renn were hustled off and given clothes "fit for the Mountain." When Torak got outside, the sky was overcast, and the peaks were hidden from sight. But he felt them as a tightness in his chest.
Renn emerged, looking ill at ease in her new clothes. They each now wore an inner jerkin and leggings of diverbird hide, the plumage warm against their skin; a calf-length tunic of supple reindeer fur, cinched at the waist with a broad buckskin belt; socks and undermittens
134
of soft, light woven stuff which the Swans said was musk-ox wool; and long boots and overmittens of tough reindeer forehead skin.
Such clothes must have taken days to make. When Torak remarked on this, Renn gave him an odd look. "Can't you guess? These were made for Souls' Night. They've given us clothes for ghosts."
Krukoslik came over to them. His face was grim--his camp had been menaced by a Soul-Eater--and he would not be going with them. A party of Swans would take them as far as they dared.
Krukoslik introduced their Leader, Juksakai, a slight man with disconcerting pale-blue eyes and a permanent frown. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that Renn would go on his son's sled, Torak on his. Torak thanked him for helping them, but Juksakai only scowled and shook his head.
As Torak got on the sled, Krukoslik said, "I wish you'd change your mind, Torak."
"You think I'm going to fail," Torak replied.
"I think you're brave. But foolish. Such people don't live long in the Mountains. I hope I'm wrong." Touching his clan-creature skin, he stepped back from the sled. "Good-bye, Torak. And may your guardian run with you."
Juksakai shouted a command to his dogs, and they were off.
135
All day they rattled over the ice, climbing first into the foothills and then the Mountains themselves, which remained shrouded in cloud. For a while, Rip and Rek flew alongside Torak, but they were soon off again, as if summoned away. Torak saw no sign of Wolf. He wondered if his pack-brother had caught the scent of the eagle owl, and given chase.
The wind was bitter. The lowering clouds weighed on Torak's spirits. He thought of being Lost in the dark beyond the stars. "Eternally alive," Renn had said. "Eternally alone."
They camped in a stony hollow where the invisible Mountains loomed over them. This was as far as the sleds could go. Tomorrow they would continue on foot.
The Swans built shelters by propping the sleds together and draping them with hides weighted with rocks. There were no trees, but fires were swiftly woken. Torak asked how, and Juksakai showed him a heathery plant which burned even when wet. He also showed Torak the cloven tracks of musk oxen, and clots of fine wool snagged on scrub. "Be warned. They're faster than bison and can scale slopes you can't. And they're the prey of the Hidden People; we only ever gather the wool."
The Swans were good at ice fishing, and a frozen lake yielded a pile of burbot and char. Over nightmeal, Juksakai thawed a little. He told Torak and Renn how his clan hunted in the Mountains with slingshots, and he
136
showed them his clan-creature skin, a plaited wristband of swanhide, dyed red. The Swans, he said, used their clan-creature sparingly: children wore the claws, men the skin, women the feathers, the Leader the beak.
After they'd eaten, he insisted that Torak and Renn take what he called a steam bath, sitting with hides draped over their heads, dripping water onto hot stones and breathing in the steam. The Swans took no part in this, but watched in unnerving silence.
When it was over, Torak asked Juksakai why his clan was helping them.
"We're not," he said. "We're helping us."
"What do you mean?" Renn said uneasily.
The Swan Leader regarded Torak. "You seek the Soul-Eater in the Mountain. Maybe
133
[Image: Torak and Renn.]
TWENTY-ONE
Torak had no time to take in what Renn had told him. The camp sprang into action, people running to harness dogs and prepare the sleds.
He and Renn were hustled off and given clothes "fit for the Mountain." When Torak got outside, the sky was overcast, and the peaks were hidden from sight. But he felt them as a tightness in his chest.
Renn emerged, looking ill at ease in her new clothes. They each now wore an inner jerkin and leggings of diverbird hide, the plumage warm against their skin; a calf-length tunic of supple reindeer fur, cinched at the waist with a broad buckskin belt; socks and undermittens
134
of soft, light woven stuff which the Swans said was musk-ox wool; and long boots and overmittens of tough reindeer forehead skin.
Such clothes must have taken days to make. When Torak remarked on this, Renn gave him an odd look. "Can't you guess? These were made for Souls' Night. They've given us clothes for ghosts."
Krukoslik came over to them. His face was grim--his camp had been menaced by a Soul-Eater--and he would not be going with them. A party of Swans would take them as far as they dared.
Krukoslik introduced their Leader, Juksakai, a slight man with disconcerting pale-blue eyes and a permanent frown. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that Renn would go on his son's sled, Torak on his. Torak thanked him for helping them, but Juksakai only scowled and shook his head.
As Torak got on the sled, Krukoslik said, "I wish you'd change your mind, Torak."
"You think I'm going to fail," Torak replied.
"I think you're brave. But foolish. Such people don't live long in the Mountains. I hope I'm wrong." Touching his clan-creature skin, he stepped back from the sled. "Good-bye, Torak. And may your guardian run with you."
Juksakai shouted a command to his dogs, and they were off.
135
All day they rattled over the ice, climbing first into the foothills and then the Mountains themselves, which remained shrouded in cloud. For a while, Rip and Rek flew alongside Torak, but they were soon off again, as if summoned away. Torak saw no sign of Wolf. He wondered if his pack-brother had caught the scent of the eagle owl, and given chase.
The wind was bitter. The lowering clouds weighed on Torak's spirits. He thought of being Lost in the dark beyond the stars. "Eternally alive," Renn had said. "Eternally alone."
They camped in a stony hollow where the invisible Mountains loomed over them. This was as far as the sleds could go. Tomorrow they would continue on foot.
The Swans built shelters by propping the sleds together and draping them with hides weighted with rocks. There were no trees, but fires were swiftly woken. Torak asked how, and Juksakai showed him a heathery plant which burned even when wet. He also showed Torak the cloven tracks of musk oxen, and clots of fine wool snagged on scrub. "Be warned. They're faster than bison and can scale slopes you can't. And they're the prey of the Hidden People; we only ever gather the wool."
The Swans were good at ice fishing, and a frozen lake yielded a pile of burbot and char. Over nightmeal, Juksakai thawed a little. He told Torak and Renn how his clan hunted in the Mountains with slingshots, and he
136
showed them his clan-creature skin, a plaited wristband of swanhide, dyed red. The Swans, he said, used their clan-creature sparingly: children wore the claws, men the skin, women the feathers, the Leader the beak.
After they'd eaten, he insisted that Torak and Renn take what he called a steam bath, sitting with hides draped over their heads, dripping water onto hot stones and breathing in the steam. The Swans took no part in this, but watched in unnerving silence.
When it was over, Torak asked Juksakai why his clan was helping them.
"We're not," he said. "We're helping us."
"What do you mean?" Renn said uneasily.
The Swan Leader regarded Torak. "You seek the Soul-Eater in the Mountain. Maybe
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