Read Online Cloak of the Two Winds by Jack Massa - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jack Massa
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of many days on their skates, seeking the breathing holes of the sea lion herds. Lonn, Draven, and Eben were in such a long-distance rhythm now. They kept up the pace without faltering as the faint sun wheeled down through the afternoon sky.
The track was growing more shallow. The farther north the dojuk had travelled, the less snow there'd been to clear away. By sundown the trench had risen almost to the level of the surrounding ice.
There was still no sign of Karrol and Brinda.
Daylight faded and the fiery constellations appeared overhead. Weak from hunger, thighs and backs straining, the Iruks pushed on. Their strides were ragged now, and slower. Only iron determination kept their exhausted legs moving.
Then Lonn's skate hit a nick in the ice and he fell sprawling. He slid a distance on his belly before his mates could pick him up. He tasted blood in his mouth and spit it out.
"Easy," Draven said.
But Lonn yanked free and skated off again. "I'm all right."
"There's no track anymore," Draven said, pulling even.
"We're keeping the same direction," Lonn answered. "We have to keep going."
"I know."
But the ache in Lonn's legs was growing sharper, and he wondered how long he could fight it. Karrol and Brinda came this far, he told himself, and farther. Still, it seemed hopeless. Even if they found Glyssa now they'd have no strength to help her.
A while later Eben skidded to a halt, doubled over and clutching his belly. Lonn and Draven stopped and skated back to him.
"Keep going," Eben said. "I'll catch up with you."
Lonn glanced at Draven, who shook his head despondently.
They had pushed themselves all day, putting only a few swallows of water in their stomachs. Eben's wiry frame carried less muscle than the others', but it would not be long before they too went down with cramps. Besides, if they left Eben here alone there was little doubt but he would freeze.
"Get moving!" Eben cried angrily.
"No," Lonn knelt and embraced him. "What's left of the klarn must stay together. We'll go on in the morning."
"It may be too late in the morning." Eben tried to rise, then fell back wincing.
"It may be too late already," Lonn said. "We won't leave you."
Draven bent over and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. Eben shook with weeping. "Please go," he said. "I don't want my weakness to cost us losing Glyssa."
"No. It's my fault," Lonn answered. "My dreaming started it all."
"Stop it!" Draven shouted. "I could blame myself too. When Glyssa tried to warn us, I was the one who laughed at her. And Lonn, we all agreed to follow your dream and sail to Dekyll. We could have refused. We all did what we thought was best at the time. What is the good of blaming ourselves now? None of us can go farther, Eben."
Tears of remorse filled Lonn's eyes. "Our klarn is broken, Draven."
"No," Draven hugged him. "We'll go on tomorrow. We'll find our mates."
The three Iruks huddled close, murmuring consolations to one another. At Draven's suggestion Eben took out two spears and beat them together. They chanted to the spirits of the wind and the ice, begging them to keep the meltwind away and to protect their absent klarnmates.
Afterward they lay down close together, sharing the warmth of their capes, and soon fell asleep.
Lonn's first awareness was of dread, creeping through his belly, unattached to any thought. Next he felt numbing cold against his back. He tried to move and discovered massive, aching stiffness in every joint and muscle. And he remembered.
Lonn opened his eyes, pulled the wool and fur away from his face. It was daylight, the sun low in the east. With a groan he unwrapped himself from the capes and struggled to his feet. Draven and Eben rose slowly beside him.
Lonn scanned the bright panorama of ice and sky and detected no movement anywhere. Then he realized the source of his dread. A warm breeze blew on his face—from the north. The weather had changed.
"If the wind picks up now we're finished," Eben
The track was growing more shallow. The farther north the dojuk had travelled, the less snow there'd been to clear away. By sundown the trench had risen almost to the level of the surrounding ice.
There was still no sign of Karrol and Brinda.
Daylight faded and the fiery constellations appeared overhead. Weak from hunger, thighs and backs straining, the Iruks pushed on. Their strides were ragged now, and slower. Only iron determination kept their exhausted legs moving.
Then Lonn's skate hit a nick in the ice and he fell sprawling. He slid a distance on his belly before his mates could pick him up. He tasted blood in his mouth and spit it out.
"Easy," Draven said.
But Lonn yanked free and skated off again. "I'm all right."
"There's no track anymore," Draven said, pulling even.
"We're keeping the same direction," Lonn answered. "We have to keep going."
"I know."
But the ache in Lonn's legs was growing sharper, and he wondered how long he could fight it. Karrol and Brinda came this far, he told himself, and farther. Still, it seemed hopeless. Even if they found Glyssa now they'd have no strength to help her.
A while later Eben skidded to a halt, doubled over and clutching his belly. Lonn and Draven stopped and skated back to him.
"Keep going," Eben said. "I'll catch up with you."
Lonn glanced at Draven, who shook his head despondently.
They had pushed themselves all day, putting only a few swallows of water in their stomachs. Eben's wiry frame carried less muscle than the others', but it would not be long before they too went down with cramps. Besides, if they left Eben here alone there was little doubt but he would freeze.
"Get moving!" Eben cried angrily.
"No," Lonn knelt and embraced him. "What's left of the klarn must stay together. We'll go on in the morning."
"It may be too late in the morning." Eben tried to rise, then fell back wincing.
"It may be too late already," Lonn said. "We won't leave you."
Draven bent over and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders. Eben shook with weeping. "Please go," he said. "I don't want my weakness to cost us losing Glyssa."
"No. It's my fault," Lonn answered. "My dreaming started it all."
"Stop it!" Draven shouted. "I could blame myself too. When Glyssa tried to warn us, I was the one who laughed at her. And Lonn, we all agreed to follow your dream and sail to Dekyll. We could have refused. We all did what we thought was best at the time. What is the good of blaming ourselves now? None of us can go farther, Eben."
Tears of remorse filled Lonn's eyes. "Our klarn is broken, Draven."
"No," Draven hugged him. "We'll go on tomorrow. We'll find our mates."
The three Iruks huddled close, murmuring consolations to one another. At Draven's suggestion Eben took out two spears and beat them together. They chanted to the spirits of the wind and the ice, begging them to keep the meltwind away and to protect their absent klarnmates.
Afterward they lay down close together, sharing the warmth of their capes, and soon fell asleep.
Lonn's first awareness was of dread, creeping through his belly, unattached to any thought. Next he felt numbing cold against his back. He tried to move and discovered massive, aching stiffness in every joint and muscle. And he remembered.
Lonn opened his eyes, pulled the wool and fur away from his face. It was daylight, the sun low in the east. With a groan he unwrapped himself from the capes and struggled to his feet. Draven and Eben rose slowly beside him.
Lonn scanned the bright panorama of ice and sky and detected no movement anywhere. Then he realized the source of his dread. A warm breeze blew on his face—from the north. The weather had changed.
"If the wind picks up now we're finished," Eben
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