Spirit Walker by Michelle Paver Page B

dreading the time when it would be worn to shreds.
    Bale flicked Asrif a glance, and the smaller boy shrugged, and threw away the stick.
"I may be Wolf Clan," Torak told Bale, "but my father's mother was Seal. So whether you like it or not, we're bone kin."
"That's a lie!" spat Bale. "If you were kin, you'd know the law of the Sea."
"Bale," broke in Detlan, "we should start back. She's getting restless."
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Bale glanced at the Sea. The waves had turned choppy. "This is your doing," he told Torak. "Angering the Sea Mother. Tainting her waters with the Forest." Asrif snickered. "Oh, Forest Boy, it'll be the Rock for you!"
"The Rock," Torak said blankly.
Asrif's grin widened. "A skerry near our island. You know what a skerry is, don't you?"
"It's a rock in the Sea," put in Detlan, who seemed to be struggling to grasp the depths of Torak's ignorance.
"They give you a skin of water," said Asrif, "but no food, then they leave you on the Rock for a whole moon. Sometimes the Sea Mother lets you live; sometimes she washes you off." His grin faltered, and in his pale-blue eyes Torak saw fear. "Washes you off," he repeated, "into the jaws of the Hunters."
    "Asrif, that's enough," said Bale. "We'll have to take him with us, and let the Leader decide."
"No!"
protested Torak.
Bale wasn't listening. "Asrif, load up the trade goods. Detlan, we need a fire to purify us, especially him. I'm going to repair my boat." With that he jumped off the rocks and onto the beach.
    Detlan seemed glad of something to do, and set about gathering armfuls of dried seaweed and driftwood. Soon he had a big fire blazing, giving off plumes 141
of thick gray smoke.
"What are you going to do to me?" said Torak.
"Give you a taste of the Sea," said Asrif with his weaselly grin.
"You can hardly go near our skinboats stinking of the Forest," said Detlan, as if that were too obvious to need pointing out.
Before Torak could protest, Detlan had stripped him naked and pushed him into the fire.
He managed to leap clear of the flames--but Asrif was waiting on the other side, and forced him back with his harpoon--back through the acrid, choking smoke. Again they pushed him through it until his eyes were streaming and his throat raw. Then they tossed him into the Sea.
The cold hit him like a punch in the chest, and he swallowed salt water. Kicking with all his might, he struggled to the surface, but couldn't break the bindings around his wrists.
    Rough hands hauled him out and dragged him coughing onto the rocks. Then they cut the bindings at his wrists and bundled him into a gray hide jerkin and breeches that Asrif fetched from his boat. Torak felt naked without his knife and his clan-creature skin, and he hated having to wear someone else's clothes. "Give me-back--my things!" he spluttered.
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"Lucky for you the Salmon Clan didn't want to trade," snorted Asrif, "or you wouldn't have anything to wear!"
"He's so skinny!" said Detlan as he yanked Torak to his feet. "Don't they have enough prey in the Forest?"
    Half pushing, half pulling, they led him down to the sand. Swiftly Asrif loaded his canoe at prow and stern with large, lumpy bundles wrapped in hide. A short distance away, Bale crouched by his boat, smearing a patch on its side with what looked like fat from a small hide pouch. His hands moved tenderly, but when he saw Torak, he glowered. "Take him with you, Detlan," he growled. "I don't want him near my boat."
    "In you go," said Detlan, pushing Torak toward his craft. Like Asrif's, it was laden with bundles--including Torak's gear--but only at the prow end. Torak hesitated. "Your friend. Bale. Why is he so angry with me?"
It was Asrif who answered. "One of your fishhooks snagged his skinboat. It's as well for you that he can repair it."
Torak was puzzled. "But it's only a boat."
Asrif and Detlan gaped.
"A skinboat is not just a
boat@"
said Detlan. "It's a hunting partner! Don't ever let Bale hear you say that!"
Torak swallowed. "I didn't mean to--"
"Just get in,"