Read Online Spirit Walker by Michelle Paver - Free Book Online

they stood in the open.
     
They went barefoot, with knee-length leggings and sleeveless jerkins of wovenbark, although of a finer, suppler weave than Torak had ever seen. Each carried a magnificent, well-oiled bow; and each bow was nocked with a green slate arrow fletched with woodpecker feathers. All arrows were trained on him.
    Swiftly he put his fists over his heart in a token of friendship.
The arrows didn't move.
"You are--of the Deep Forest?" he said hoarsely. It was a guess. Something about them felt different from the Follower. He sensed wildness and danger--but not evil. "And you," said the woman who had first addressed him, "you have reached its borders and must turn back."
"I thought the Deep Forest was farther east--"
"You were wrong," said the woman in a voice as chill as a deep Forest pool. She had a narrow, distrustful face with hazel eyes set too close together, and she looked 88
older than the others. Torak wondered if she was the leader.
"You have reached the True Forest," she said. "You may not pass."
The "True Forest"? In spite of himself, Torak was annoyed. What was wrong with the Forest where he'd grown up?
"I come as a friend," he said, trying to sound friendly but not quite succeeding. "My name is Torak. I have bone kin in the Deep Forest. Oak Clan and Red Deer by my mother. What clan are you?"
    The woman drew herself up. "Forest Horse," she said haughtily. "As you would know if you were telling the truth."
"I am telling the truth," said Torak.
"Prove it."
Face flaming, Torak went to his pack and brought out his mother's medicine horn. It was made from the hollowed-out tip of a red deer antler, fitted with a black oak base and stopper. Fin-Kedinn had told him to keep it hidden; but he couldn't think of any other proof.
    "Here." He held it out.
The Leader recoiled as if he'd threatened her. "Put it down!" she cried. "We never touch strangers! You might be a ghost or a demon!" "I'm sorry," Torak said hastily. "I'll--put it here."
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He set it on the ground, and the Leader leaned forward to inspect it. Torak reflected that the Forest Horses seemed to have more in common with their clan-creatures than merely their horsetails.
    "It is of Red Deer making," declared the Leader.
A murmur of surprise rippled through her people.
Taking a step toward Torak, the Leader peered at his face. "You have something of the True Forest in you, despite the evil you did here; but your clan-tattoos are unknown to us. You may not pass."
    "What?"
said Torak. "But I have to!"
"He cannot enter the True Forest!" said one of the clan. "See how he treated the boar!"
"And the willow tree!" said another. "Look at her lying in the mud! Dying with nothing to ease her pain!
"How do you ease a tree's pain?" said Torak indignantly.
Seven pairs of hazel eyes glared at him through their leaf-tattoos.
"You have used our brother and sister very ill," said the Leader. "That you cannot deny."
Torak glanced at the shattered tree and the muddy carcass. "Take them," he said.
"What?" said the Leader, her eyes narrowing.
"Take the boar and the willow," said Torak.
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"There's only one of me, but seven of you. You could deal with them much better than I could. And that way, we'd avoid the bad luck."
The Leader hesitated, as if suspecting a trick. Then she turned to her people. To Torak's surprise, she didn't speak, but made a series of slight, subtle gestures with one hand.
     
Immediately, four of them stepped forward, whipped out slender knives of green slate, and descended on the carcass. With astonishing speed and skill they cut it up, then packed it with the hide and innards in wovenbark nets drawn from their packs, and slung them over their shoulders.
     
"We will return for our sister," said one, with a nod at the willow and a scornful glance at Torak. "We will lay her to rest." Then he was gone, melting into the Forest with his three companions.
     
All trace of the boar had vanished, apart from the tusks, which one of the Forest Horses now