take this tone with her if I have to,” said Klandagi. “It’s my job to save her. The people need her.”
“Let me tell Sunoya,” said Tsola.
When Tsola finished her proposal, Sunoya was rigid with fright. Tsola uncovered the child’s face and looked at it, waiting for Sunoya to say something.
After a long pause, Klandagi spoke instead. He howled like a beast, a wail of woe. Then he said, “If you do this, the clansmen of the chiefs you offend will rise up and kill you.”
His mother gave him a stricken look.
“All I will be able to do is die trying to protect you.”
Tsola seemed to go away for a moment.
“When the tribe loses you, it loses everything,” the panther argued.
The Seer composed herself and answered evenly, “If I don’t do something, they’ve already lost everything.”
She let them sit on this notion. Klandagi padded to one of the clay-covered walls, stood up with his back against it, and scratched his spine, mucking his glossy coat with mud.
“I have to do my work,” she went on. “Sometimes being the Seer is hard. I can’t just wait and hope that this baby—”
Knowing his mother, Klandagi said, “And what are you not saying?”
Tsola sighed, looked long at the child, and said, “I love to wear the Cape. Wear it and hear its music. That is the legacy of the Seers.”
Klandagi eyed his mother hard.
Tsola said to Sunoya, “What are your thoughts?”
“I . . . I don’t know. It’s daring.” She cursed herself for being mealy-mouthed. “Seer, it’s . . . You just can’t.”
Tsola blanked her face with thought—Sunoya was amazed at how smooth and beautiful the face was—and after a few moments snapped back to them. “When I took on this task, I accepted everything that goes with it,” Tsola said.
Klandagi said, “It’s their problem.”
Tsola’s eyes shot a plea to Sunoya. Her pupil and friend pursed her mouth and drew an idle pattern in the cave floor with a finger. After a while she said, “Well, then, let’s figure it out.”
Tsola motioned for Klandagi to join them. Her son didn’t move.
“Listen to me,” she called across the room to him. “I’m not going to live forever.” Seers and their families had the gift and burden of living for a hundred and thirty or forty winters. “I’ve always had the power of the Cape. The people have always had the benefit. It’s my calling.”
Klandagi rumbled from the wall, “Think of what the people will lose.”
“They need the Cape.”
The man-panther curled his lips in thought, then walked forward and coiled next to his mother. His tail snaked up and down on the ground like a rattler.
After a few minutes of talk the two women grew excited, and Klandagi was helping out.
For more than a day, except that daylight was unknown in the Cavern, they chased ideas, tested possibilities, anticipated difficulties, devised and threw out tactics, created strategies.Tsola roasted some deer meat Klandagi had brought in his jaws. He complained about cooked flesh being pallid stuff.
At last they considered themselves finished. All three were exhilarated and frightened. Tsola said simply, “Then I will see you tomorrow afternoon.” The time of the Council of the Planting Moon.
Sunoya nodded and rose.
“We will change everything,” said Tsola. Her face hadn’t looked so young in Sunoya’s lifetime.
“One way or another,” said Sunoya.
Su-Li launched from her shoulder and wing-flapped through the corridors of stone, longing for oceans of air. Sunoya picked up her son. Alongside Klandagi she padded after her airborne companion.
17
A t dawn the next day Sunoya shook her head and opened her eyes. The faint light crept through the leaves of her brush hut. “This is it,” she told Su-Li. Her voice sounded weak even to her.
The buzzard had nothing to say.
She propped herself up on an elbow on her pallet of buffalo hides and peered at him. She poked fun at herself. “How come, no matter how early I
“Let me tell Sunoya,” said Tsola.
When Tsola finished her proposal, Sunoya was rigid with fright. Tsola uncovered the child’s face and looked at it, waiting for Sunoya to say something.
After a long pause, Klandagi spoke instead. He howled like a beast, a wail of woe. Then he said, “If you do this, the clansmen of the chiefs you offend will rise up and kill you.”
His mother gave him a stricken look.
“All I will be able to do is die trying to protect you.”
Tsola seemed to go away for a moment.
“When the tribe loses you, it loses everything,” the panther argued.
The Seer composed herself and answered evenly, “If I don’t do something, they’ve already lost everything.”
She let them sit on this notion. Klandagi padded to one of the clay-covered walls, stood up with his back against it, and scratched his spine, mucking his glossy coat with mud.
“I have to do my work,” she went on. “Sometimes being the Seer is hard. I can’t just wait and hope that this baby—”
Knowing his mother, Klandagi said, “And what are you not saying?”
Tsola sighed, looked long at the child, and said, “I love to wear the Cape. Wear it and hear its music. That is the legacy of the Seers.”
Klandagi eyed his mother hard.
Tsola said to Sunoya, “What are your thoughts?”
“I . . . I don’t know. It’s daring.” She cursed herself for being mealy-mouthed. “Seer, it’s . . . You just can’t.”
Tsola blanked her face with thought—Sunoya was amazed at how smooth and beautiful the face was—and after a few moments snapped back to them. “When I took on this task, I accepted everything that goes with it,” Tsola said.
Klandagi said, “It’s their problem.”
Tsola’s eyes shot a plea to Sunoya. Her pupil and friend pursed her mouth and drew an idle pattern in the cave floor with a finger. After a while she said, “Well, then, let’s figure it out.”
Tsola motioned for Klandagi to join them. Her son didn’t move.
“Listen to me,” she called across the room to him. “I’m not going to live forever.” Seers and their families had the gift and burden of living for a hundred and thirty or forty winters. “I’ve always had the power of the Cape. The people have always had the benefit. It’s my calling.”
Klandagi rumbled from the wall, “Think of what the people will lose.”
“They need the Cape.”
The man-panther curled his lips in thought, then walked forward and coiled next to his mother. His tail snaked up and down on the ground like a rattler.
After a few minutes of talk the two women grew excited, and Klandagi was helping out.
For more than a day, except that daylight was unknown in the Cavern, they chased ideas, tested possibilities, anticipated difficulties, devised and threw out tactics, created strategies.Tsola roasted some deer meat Klandagi had brought in his jaws. He complained about cooked flesh being pallid stuff.
At last they considered themselves finished. All three were exhilarated and frightened. Tsola said simply, “Then I will see you tomorrow afternoon.” The time of the Council of the Planting Moon.
Sunoya nodded and rose.
“We will change everything,” said Tsola. Her face hadn’t looked so young in Sunoya’s lifetime.
“One way or another,” said Sunoya.
Su-Li launched from her shoulder and wing-flapped through the corridors of stone, longing for oceans of air. Sunoya picked up her son. Alongside Klandagi she padded after her airborne companion.
17
A t dawn the next day Sunoya shook her head and opened her eyes. The faint light crept through the leaves of her brush hut. “This is it,” she told Su-Li. Her voice sounded weak even to her.
The buzzard had nothing to say.
She propped herself up on an elbow on her pallet of buffalo hides and peered at him. She poked fun at herself. “How come, no matter how early I
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