Gods and Demons in Love

  *****

  The Shaman's Lover

  "The tale of my curse begins long ago and far away, as all such tales do begin," I murmured, soft voiced in the quiet hour of the evening. I looked out to where the full moon hovered in a turquoise sky, and lights twinkled on the boats in the bay. Brilliant sparks rose up from the spaceport in the distance, shooting stars born of earth and flung out to the heavens. It was an evening for dreams, for tales of love and loss, and I had a story to tell.

  Just then I appeared as a tall, fair man with ice-blue eyes, a common enough type in that place. The other three at the table with me settled back in their sturdy chairs and held their tankards close. We were waiting for our supper after spending the day on the water. Our table sat on a terrace that hovered above the shore. The dusky light painted us gold, and the offshore breeze blew cool across our sunburned skins. For just that moment, we were beautiful. I breathed deeply, inhaling wind that smelled of saltwater and seaweed.

  "Get on with it, Nate Lee," old Razor urged, wiping foam off her chin. She was the best cargo master in the port, as she'd been for thirty years. Razor brooked no delay from anyone, not even me.

  "Yes," the one-eyed man next to Razor said as he scratched at his stomach under his shirt. "You're buying, so we'll listen, but not for any longer than the ale holds out."

  Scanlon, sitting on One-eye's other side, laughed, and all three drained their tankards and banged them down. I smiled too and dropped a stack of coins on the table.

  "Here, lass," I called to the barmaid. "Keep their tankards filled. The moon is full and that puts me in a mind to talk tonight. Pour with a generous hand."

  So the barmaid, young and pretty, with long red hair worn in a braid down her back, brought four fresh tankards, two in each hand, and set them down on our table. She let old Razor pinch her bottom, but she slipped away as the men reached for her. Then, she went back through the French doors to the bar to flirt with a woman who strutted in a dockhand's quilted coveralls and heavy boots. That pinch earned Razor a glare from the barmaid's lover; but she ignored it. Razor had an old woman's face, but the ropes of scar tissue on her forearms gave warning to any who thought her easy game. When the girl had gone, my listeners drank deep and waited for me to continue. As for me, I'd downed not a drop.

  "So," Scanlon said, running a hand over his smooth-shaven skull, "are you cursed not to drink any ale?"

  "Nothing so easy," I replied. "Listen, my friends, and I'll tell you the whole of the tale." And so I began to speak in a measured, beguiling voice that made the listener forget everything but the words that flowed from my lips. I made a broad gesture with my right hand, but the ruby of my ring was turned to my palm so they could not see it. Razor looked a little uneasy as she felt the stone pass by her, but she only licked her lips and said nothing, so I went on.

  "Once upon a warm spring day, while shaggy herds of mammoth roamed the grasslands in the distance, a woman lay naked on a hillside amid a bounty of flowers, and she dreamed of power."

  "She was naked?" Razor asked, her grin showing more gaps than teeth. All three of them leaned forward.

  "Oh, yes. Naked and beautiful, but she wasn't waiting for a man—nor a woman. She had other plans in mind that day. Laheese was very young then. Her first flow of blood had come only the year before. The scar on her left cheek that marked her as a grown woman had barely had time to heal.

  "With her fingers, she touched that scar as she lay on her back on the grass, tracing the symbol of the Mammoth carved into her flesh, the symbol that joined her forever with the spirit that sustained her people. She scowled as she traced the mark. There should be two scars, one for the Mammoth and another for the Great Mother who ruled the spirit world. She should wear the shaman's mark as well as the mammoth mark of her clan. She could Journey. She sent her spirit out every time old Da-sing beat the drum in that rapid monotonous beat that guided the traveler in far realms. She brought back dreams and visions, more than either of the other apprentices, but Da-sing gave her no honor.

  "'You are too proud, girl,' the old woman had said, peering out at her from behind the fringe of small bones that hung over her wrinkled face. 'You think yourself too much the warrior in the spirit world, small though you are in the flesh. You must learn respect!'

  "Respect, Laheese thought with contempt, why should I respect you, old bag of bones! The babies may howl with hunger, but you eat well. You sit on soft firs at the right hand of the Mammoth Chief while weary hunters stand to show you respect. You take any young man you please to your bed whether he wants you or not. Your vow was to help the Mammoth Clan, but you help only yourself. Then the old woman had looked sharply at her, and Laheese had wondered if the shaman had heard her thoughts.

  "And I, who did not yet know her," I told them as the darkness gathered around us and the moon grew brighter in the night, "who did not yet know myself, I was aware of her even then. Her will was a flame in the darkness of my unknowing. I felt her questing even before it began. She was a small woman, but her desires sent ripples through the world of spirit as they soon would send ripples through the world of mortals.

  "But that day she only dreamed as she reclined on soft grass in warm sunlight. The scent of flowers was all around her, rich enough to taste. She moved a bit to ease a stone out from under her shoulder, then lay on her back with her hands crossed over her chest, just below the firm mounds of her newly budded breasts. Beside her, she could smell the animal scent of her hide tunic and leggings. She'd stripped them off so there'd be no barrier between her and the earth. She listened to the small birds singing, to the click and buzz of the insects, to the rustling of the leaves, until their steady rhythm told her she was alone. She slowed her breathing until it was deep and deliberate. She willed her muscles to relax. When all was quiet in her body, she imagined the rapid beat of the shaman's drum signaling her spirit to begin the Journey.

  "'Always call the guardians before embarking on a Journey,' Da-sing had instructed her pupils as they sat around the fire, breathing the scent of herbed smoke. 'There are many powers in the spirit world, and not all of them are friendly. Be sure you ask the guardians for protection before you begin your Journey, and be sure you thank them when you return.'

  "But Laheese was too impatient to delay for such ceremonies, too sure of herself for caution. Guardians were well enough for the old woman, but she was young and strong. She didn't need their protection. She called the drumming firmly to mind and sent her spirit out to seek power. She wanted power of her own, power enough to take Da-sing's fur cap with its fringe of bone and set it on her own head.

  "Soon, she found her spirit self on a dirt path, high in the hills. Around her, scrub brush and twisted pine braced against spills of gravel. Silence surrounded her like a whisper about to be spoken. She shivered as a cool, damp breeze played through her hair. Then, lightly, dancing, retaining her human form, she ran down the path as gracefully as a stream running over rounded stones. The ground was firm and dusty under her bare feet. Her young breasts bounced lightly as she ran, and her long black hair flew behind her. By the quality of the light, she realized that she was in the underworld. The space above was a silvery radiance like the sky on a cloudy day, only brighter. But that was no sky above her; it was the bottom side of the earth. This was the realm of hidden things, of things forgotten, of things yet unborn. This, she thought, was a good place to begin her quest.

  "She planned to ask one of the spirit beings to enter her heart and come back with her to the mortal world to help her overthrow Da-sing. There would be no more feasting for the shaman while babies went hungry, she vowed. She would be shaman, and she would guard the tribe, not use the Mammoth Clan as her servants.

  "As for me, I watched her as she ran. I was a swirl of dreams, and she ran through me as through a cloud of mist. I was a pattern of darkness, and she broke through me as mortal breaks through shadow.

  "When she paused at a turning in the path, I was there, waiting for her in
the form of an enormous wolf, powerful and sure. It was a form called up out of the girl's own desires. My pelt was dense black, streaked with gray. My eyes glowed with eerie, ice-blue light. My muzzle reached as high as her head, but she looked me in the eye, unafraid. I wore a gold chain around my neck, and on that chain hung a pendant, a great blood-red ruby that sparkled with the scarlet light of my inhuman heart. I saw her glance once at that jewel and then quickly look away.

  "'Are you Wolf?' she asked, 'or are you just something in wolf form?'

  "Because, you see," I explained to my listeners, now rapt, abet uneasy. "Each kind of creature has an essence. In the spirit world there is one creature that represents the soul of all its kind. And there are other things, too; creatures with no part in the mortal world. There are demons; there are gods as yet unformed. So, sweet Laheese asked me, 'Are you Wolf?' And it amused me that she should ask, I who could create and uncreate, who could move matter like wind swirling fallen leaves.

  "And I thought to myself, in my pride, that I could eat her up, swallow down her spirit. She'd come alone, with no protector. With a snap of my jaws, I could sever the silver cord that bound her to her body. But I didn't; not then, not ever. I was the one caught, although I didn't know it then. There was no escape from my love, my Laheese. But at that time I was ignorant, innocent, unwise—even a god can be unwise—and I answered her question with a question.

  "'What does it matter to you?' I replied, licking my chops.

  "'It matters a great deal,' Laheese said coolly. Even if she'd known her danger, I swear she'd have shown the same courage. 'I'm looking for a powerful totem animal. But if you're just some wandering spirit, you're no use to me.'

  "I laughed at her with my tongue lolling red between white, white teeth. I could give her the world if only she'd ask for it.

  "'Do I look so useless, then?'

  "She looked hard at me, weighed me up and found me wanting. Remember, she was hardly more than a child. 'You aren't Wolf,' she determined at last. And she turned away from me.

  "'Wait! I can do more for you than Wolf,' I cried, but she wouldn't listen.

  "'Go away, false-Wolf. I haven't got time for your boasting. I'm going down to the plain to ask Mammoth if she'll go back with me.'

  "'What can that shaggy grass-eater do for you that I can't?' I demanded, breathing deeply to draw in the scent of her, wanting to touch her, to taste her.

  "'Mammoth sends her herd to give my people everything,' she replied. 'We make our homes from the bones and tusks of the animals. We feast on the bounty of their flesh. The great Mammoth is the guardian of my clan.'

  "'I can do all that, and more.'

  "'So, you say; but I don't believe you.'

  "Abruptly, she turned away and ran rapidly down the mountain side, much faster than she could have run in the mortal realm. I suddenly felt as if I were somehow not so sharp nor so strong when she was gone. I howled in confusion."

  I paused in my story and, for the first time, I took a sip of my own ale. My voice had grown hoarse from speaking. Remembering Laheese was a sweet pleasure and an old pain. I needed a moment's respite before I forced myself to remember more.

  "Me, I don't see how you call this a curse," Scanlon said, his skull lit by the gleam of light from the bar behind him. "So far, all you've done is look at a naked girl. Now, if you don't get any closer, maybe that's a curse . . . ."

  But I looked at him, and his voice trailed into silence.

  "I have a purpose to my story tonight," I said, deliberately not seeing how Scanlon had gone pale, his skin speckled with a sudden mist of cold sweat. I didn't want to see the others looking at him, nor at me. I just wanted to tell my tale and be gone, so I continued.

  "Laheese ignored my pain. She never glanced back. She ran toward the mammoth who gathered in great herds on the plain below her. There they grazed by the millions. Their long, curling, coarse, red-brown hair moved in the breeze of the plain. Their tusks gleamed perfect ivory in great arcs of light and strength. Their powerful trunks pulled up clumps of rich green grasses and brought them to their huge mouths with a regular, unending movement. To see the herd move was to watch a range of mountains on the march. They ate and moved on, ate and moved on, in ponderous power. There was neither night nor day in that spirit world, and their existence was an unending, peaceful sameness.

  Laheese ran toward them so fast the mountain blurred beneath her, until at last, she strolled among the great beasts with their shaggy red hair and their tusks longer than she was tall. They smelled of clover and animal musk. The air around her warmed with the heat of their bodies. She wandered among them, unafraid even though the smallest calf was larger than she. After all, she was of the Mammoth Clan, with Mammoth's sign cut into her cheek. She belonged here as surely as any of these shaggy beasts. The mammoth spirits knew her and their leader, a wise old cow half a head taller than the rest, spoke to the wandering human spirit.

  "'What are you doing here child?' Mammoth asked, for this was Mammoth who led them, the sum and the essence of these great creatures. 'This is no safe place for one as tender as you. Go back to your body and grow up before you come here again.'

  "'I'm old enough to be here,' Laheese replied, for she still had no idea of her danger. 'I'll return home when I'm ready.'

  "'If you ignore my advice, you may not return at all. You wouldn't be the first would-be shaman to come to grief on your Journey. There are more things here than simple spirits such as you and I,' Mammoth warned her. Her dark eyes looked down on the girl with disfavor. No calf of hers would show such disrespect.

  "'I don't come for myself,' Laheese explained. Her voice was soft, but the force of her meaning was clear. 'Our shaman has grown old and greedy. She doesn't care for us any more. Our village is starving. I just want to find a totem animal to come back and help me.'

  "'Help you do what, child?'

  "'Help me defeat her,' Laheese replied firmly. 'Then I will be shaman. I'll lead the hunters to willing prey and see that all are fed.'

  ''Mammoth regarded her closely. She put out her trunk to sniff the impudent girl, to divine her spirit by its scent. Laheese stood quietly while the delicate tip of Mammoth's trunk touched her, sending alternately cool and warm puffs of air against her skin as Mammoth inhaled and exhaled. She did not tremble, nor did she cry, nor try to plead her case. This creature was the guardian of her clan, the most powerful spirit she knew. Laheese opened her heart and waited for Mammoth's verdict.

  "And I watched them both from where I lay concealed among the thick grasses of the great pasture. I yearned for Laheese. I felt a hunger for her that made me want to bite her tender skin until the blood flowed hot and salty. Yes, even in the spirit world I could have bitten a lethal bite. I felt a yearning that made me want to wriggle inside her soul and know her deepest desires."

  "You were confused," One-Eye said with a grin

  Razor shook her head. "Sounds like love to me." She looked around the table and then beckoned to the barmaid to bring more ale. "Never get mixed up with love." She grinned at the girl as she came over, and then Razor ran a hand through the curly gray strands of her hair. The woman was old and scarred but still vain. "Stick with sex. Then you'll know where you are."

  The barmaid smiled back at Razor. Once again, Razor's hand strayed to the girl's bottom; although in a caress this time, not a pinch. I saw the dockhand start toward us, but the barmaid quickly gathered her tray and intercepted her lover.

  "Well," I asked them, "do you want to hear my story or not?"

  "Yeah, sure," One-eye replied.

  Scanlon shrugged. "Why not? We've got nothing better to do."

  Razor was watching the barmaid, but she nodded her head. So, once again, I took up my tale.

  "'Something's there,' Mammoth told Laheese. 'There's something in the grass.'

  "Mammoth was looking in my direction, to where I lay hidden and watching. But the grass was tall, and I hunkered well down out of sight. Laheese glanced ove
r, then turned back to Mammoth.

  "'Will you come with me?' the girl demanded. Her pretty face bore a determined expression, as if she intended to carry the huge old cow back to the mortal realm with her whether Mammoth willed it or not. 'I need your help. My clan needs you.'

  "'Silence, child.' Mammoth rocked back and forth on her great legs. The rest of the herd caught wind of her distress. Small brown eyes peered from behind masses of shaggy red hair, trying to locate the source of Mammoth's unease. Suddenly, Mammoth's head swung back to Laheese.

  "'Go home, and go quickly.'

  "'No. I need—'

  "'Go!'

  "With a swing of her great trunk, Mammoth swept through the girl's spirit body. The silver cord that bound her to the mortal realm twanged. Wailing, Laheese was dragged back to herself, dreaming on the hillside. She faded fast from my sight. With the edge of my senses, I felt her wake with a jolt that left her breathless.

  "But now, Mammoth was coming toward me. Her ears stood out from her head, and her trunk stuck out straight in front of her. The ground shook with her every step. Drops of liquid began to run from near her eyes and mat the hair on her face. She let out a bellow of rage and warning, oddly high pitched for her size. She charged toward me, but I held my place in the grass.

  "'Come out of there!' she ordered when she reached me. 'Come out skulker! How dare you come near my herd!'

  "I came slinking out from among the long blades, my nose full of the rich green smell of the grass and the stink of Mammoth's musk. Like a shadow, I emerged with deliberate menace. She glimpsed the ruby glinting red against my black pelt and quickly raised her eyes to mine. But I met her gaze with eyes like blue fire. Uneasy now, she backed away.

  "'You're not Wolf!' she cried, trumpeting in alarm.

  "'So that girl child said,' I replied with my tongue lolling over my teeth.

  "Mammoth backed away another step. Behind her, the herd milled in alarm. One snap of my jaws, and they would run in blind panic. But the old cow recovered her courage quickly enough. She was brave, or maybe she'd just been worshipped for too long.

  "'Get away from my herd!'

  "I drew my tongue in and licked my chops. 'I do as I please,' I growled. 'And it pleases me to lie here regarding your herd.'

  "'Go!' she ordered, just as she'd ordered Laheese. And she swung her trunk at me.

  "But I was no human child wandering in the spirit world. My teeth slashed her. Then there was blood on her trunk and a look of shock on her face."

  I looked around the table at my listeners. The sun had finally set. The evening breeze blew cool across my face and ruffled Razor's hair. No one spoke.

  "It was the sort of look you'd get if you suddenly slapped a wealthy dowager and broke her lip," I continued. "The herd began milling and trumpeted in consternation.

  "I was angry now. Mammoth had cost me Laheese. It wouldn't be easy to find the girl in the mortal realm. I stalked toward the cow, growling.

  "'Look at me,' I commanded her. 'Look at me and see me as I truly am.'

  "And Mammoth looked. She had no choice. She was only the essence of a beast but I, I was much, much more. She saw me, and she trembled. Her ears went flat to her head, and her bloody trunk curled downward, as if she were trying to hide it under her body. The great cow bent her head. Her knees shook as if she would fall.

  "'Forgive me,' she whispered. 'And spare my herd, I beg you.'

  "But I had no mercy. I knew nothing of love then, so how could I know mercy? I stepped toward the cow until my front paws were on her front legs. The ruby dangling on its golden chain touched her. She shuddered. In silence she suffered. With the power that is mine, I drew her in. The herd was suddenly still. Mammoth fell to her knees and then onto her side. I rode her down, with the ruby still against her hide.

  "The weight of the stone around my neck grew heavy with the weight of Mammoth's soul. I drank her, great beast that she was, until only a husk remained. And then the husk collapsed with a dry crackling and drifted into dust that blew away on the wind. Mammoth was no more. On the plain, the herd wandered aimlessly. Their essence was gone. In time, they too would fade."

  With a sudden clatter, our supper arrived, four plates of bread and meat and some sort of limp looking vegetables. It stank like last week's leavings, but I hid my distaste. I knew the others were hungry. It was full dark now, as the barmaid served us, slamming the food down carelessly in front of the men. But she fussed over Razor, setting her plate down neatly and making sure her knife and fork were just so.

  "So, what about the girl?" One-eye asked. His scars were hidden by the shadows, and he was beautiful again. "You started with a story about a naked girl, but there wasn't any sex, just a lot of talking animals. What happened to this Laheese?"

  I toyed with my food a bit. I couldn't bear to eat it, not with the taste of Mammoth's blood still fresh in my memory. But I had to go on with the tale before I could be finished with this place.

  "It took me a long while to find her," I told them. "I had no easy route to the mortal realm, no worshipers, no priests, no acolytes; not then, anyway. But I could see the dreams that mortals dreamed, and I searched for the girl among them. I found her in her village.

  "Time had passed, a handful of years. Laheese had grown from girl to woman, and her beauty had grown with her. Her face was still fine-boned but stronger now, even behind the veil of hunger and care. Her legs were long and well muscled, but her every rib stood out plainly under her skin. She would have seemed scruffy by modern tastes in her worn, hide dress, too thin, too small, and far too dirty. But she was my heart's desire.

  "She sat before the house that had been her mother's home before her mother had died, starving to death like most of the other old women. She sat with her children clinging to her, a boy of three or so and a girl, still nursing at her breast. Both were too young to even have true names yet. She called them baby names: Sweet One and Little Love. Like all the villagers, the three of them were thin, listless from hunger, tired from the endless search for food. Like a stray thought, I drifted through the village, bodiless, curious, prowling.

  "I passed through the clan's collection of huts made of mammoth bones. Skulls formed the base of each house, and leg bones and ribs were cunningly worked together and bound with sinew to form walls and roofs. The girl had told me truly; they depended upon the mammoth for their lives. Yet, Mammoth was no more, and soon there would be no more of her kind in the mortal realm. But that was no concern of mine. I wanted only Laheese, that slender, dark-eyed beauty. Something about the grace of her strength and the power of her desire had reached me as nothing else had. I yearned to possess her. I think, in some way, I almost yearned to be her. I had no mortal body, no way to go to her; but I let my awareness drift around and into the girl so that I knew her every thought. She shivered as I entered her heart, and I knew she remembered me.

  "Laheese was hungry, and she was angry. The hunters had been gone two hands-full of days, with no sign of their return. This was the season when the great herds migrated through the hunting territory of the clan. Or at least they once had done so. But the herds had dwindled; mammoth were scarce and wary. The villagers ate the food the women and the old people could gather from the forest and grasslands. They had foraged all the edible roots, berries, and plants growing nearby. They were reduced to chewing bits of hide, to boiling lengths of the sinew that had been used to bind together the bones of their houses, making a kind of tasteless soup from them. Her children were listless, lolling against her, too weak to play.

  "My beloved's eyes narrowed to slits as Da-sing walked by. The shaman's ribs were well covered with meat; she wasn't starving. Da-sing ate in her house, not with the others. Laheese could smell the food when she entered for her training. Yes, she was still an apprentice. The others who'd begun with her had passed through the initiation rites and gone out into the world, to other clans in other lands. But Da-sing feared Laheese, feared her more and more. She would never pass he
r through that final gate that would make the girl her equal.

  "There was a shout in the distance, a man's voice. Then more men called out, and those remaining in the village shuffled to their feet, sudden interest on their dull faces, sudden sharp reminders of hunger in their bellies. A group of men entered the village, carrying a doe slung from a pole on their shoulders. It took four men to carry the carcass, but they were used to mammoth. This was a light burden. There was an excited milling about. The old women—the few who yet survived—hurried to prepare the firepit.

  "With a cry of joy, Laheese ran forward and embraced one of the hunters, a handsome young fellow. He was about her own age and although only a little taller than she, his body was ridged with muscles that coiled and danced with power when he moved. I knew from reading her heart that this was Rold, the father of her children. Still holding the baby, she threw her arms around him and kissed his mouth. He returned her kiss less than eagerly, and after a moment, he pulled away from her, his eyes searching over the others.

  "It was well then that I was bodiless. I felt jealousy for the first time when I watched her run to him, watched my beloved embrace the man. And I felt anger when I saw how little that embrace meant to him. Meanwhile, their son watched listlessly from the doorway where he leaned against the wall, too weak to rise.

  "The young hunter looked beyond Laheese to where Da-sing had emerged from her house. Her breasts and belly sagged and so did the skin on her arms, but she strutted forth proudly, having donned all her finery as the men were entering the village. She wore all her beads of bone and stone and her short cape woven of mammoth hair. The Shaman's cap sat firmly upon her head, and more bone beads dangled from it. She'd painted her face and body with red and yellow ochre and black charcoal so that she looked like some fantastic beast of the dream world.

  "'Well done, brave hunters,' she said, with a special glance for the young man Laheese favored. 'Your village is grateful.'

  The clan chief came forward then, limping. Hunting mammoth was dangerous work, and he was covered with scars, his bones broken and healed again crookedly. Still, he was strong, and he was chief. Scowling, he limped to Da-sing and stood between her and the young hunter.

  "'You dreamed of mammoth, shaman, but all we found was a small herd of deer; and all but this doe escaped us.'

  "The shaman glared at him, her chin coming up proudly. She shook her head, and all her beads rattled, reminding them who wore the cap of power.

  "'I saw a great herd of mammoth on my Journey. As it is in spirit, so it is in this world. I saw a sea of beasts, more than enough for our village,' Da-sing said, frowning. And I knew she lied because the great herd of the spirit world was no more. I had slaughtered Mammoth and scattered her children. But Da-sing had a firm grip on power, if not on truth, and she went on. 'If you chose to bring back deer instead of mammoth, it's no doing of mine. And if it was not your choice, then you must have failed to perform the ceremonies correctly.'

  "'There were no mammoth, old woman,' the chief insisted, leaning heavily on his spear. He grimaced as he spoke, partly in anger and partly in pain. More than his old scars were hurting him. His right leg was not only twisted from an old break, it seemed swollen. Had he injured it on the hunt? 'You may see mammoth on your Journeys, but we hunters have not seen any of the great ones for two seasons now.'

  "The others in the village stirred restlessly. They were hungry, and there was food to prepare. They didn't want to hear about spirits and hunts. They wanted to eat. Both Da-sing and the Mammoth Chief knew their people well enough to realize that this was neither the time nor the place to continue their accusations. Each gave the other a hard look, will against will, and chose to continue the ceremony of homecoming.

  "The chief and his two best hunters—Rold was one of them—drew out flint knives and began to butcher the doe. They hacked at the meat with their blades, which were nothing like the finely pressure-flaked points they made for their spears, but this task required only crude choppers and strong arms. They worked among the reek of congealed blood and a cloud of flies, but they were well practiced at this art. Their modest kill would be enough for only one meal for the village, provided they shared the meat evenly. But it was soon apparent that even shares were not what Da-sing and the chief had in mind.

  "They'd bled and gutted the kill before they brought it to the village, but now the men skinned the deer, and then cut the carcass apart. They sat the meat out in chunks on a bed of fresh leaves that the women had laid out. The hide they set aside to tan and prepare for clothing; it was too thin to use for anything else. They'd make tools from the bones and rattles from the hooves. No part of the kill would be wasted.

  "Like the other villagers, Laheese licked her lips and watched the hunters as they worked. Her baby girl whined, and she stuffed her nipple in the child's mouth; but Laheese was so thin and had been hungry for so long that she had almost no milk. Fretfully, the child spat out the nipple and continued to cry. As the village watched, the chief divided the meat into piles. One large chunk he set aside for himself. Another pile was food for the hunters. Laheese considered that fitting for without the hunters and the chief to lead them, the whole village would starve. But she made a choking sound when the chief offered nearly an entire hind quarter to Da-sing.

  "'For the honor of the spirits,' the chief said, holding out the haunch of venison.

  "'For the honor of the spirits,' Da-sing responded, reaching for it.

  "'No!'

  "Everyone looked at Laheese. She stood before them, clutching her daughter, who wailed all the louder. "'Our children are starving,' she said, shouting over the baby's noise. 'Look, my baby cries for hunger. They need the meat far more than this fat old woman!'

  "'Silence,' Rold growled. 'You dishonor us all!'

  "He jerked her arm roughly, shaking her. My own thought was that Rold was less concerned about the dishonor to the village than the dishonor to himself. He seemed even then to be a man with a very large opinion of his own importance in the world. He was not worthy of my beloved. But Laheese turned to him, and I saw inside her, saw how her heart was torn. She truly loved the arrogant young hunter.

  "'Look at our daughter, Rold,' she urged him, looking down at her crying baby. Her voice broke. She looked over to her house of mammoth bones. 'Look at our son. Look how weak he is. How can he grow up to be a fine hunter if he doesn't get enough to eat?'

  "The chief spoke then, impatiently. 'You're mad to endanger our whole village for the sake of your children. The spirits are already angry with us. Mammoth hides when we hunt. If you take away their sacrifice, soon even the deer will avoid us.'

  "Laheese pointed with her chin at the shaman. 'Feeding that fat old woman doesn't please the spirits. It pleases only Da-sing.'

  "'Enough!' said the chief.

  "Once again, he started to hand the haunch of venison to Da-sing. But Laheese twisted loose from Rold and ran in front of him and took hold of it with her free hand. Her other hand still cradled her crying daughter.

  "'No!'

  "'Let go, woman!' the chief said, trying to pull it away. But Laheese wouldn't let go, and she wouldn't give up. The other villagers talked excitedly, shocked, angry, impatient, and above all, hungry. Only Da-sing held aloof. She knew when to let her enemy ruin herself. Rold reached for Laheese again, trying to loosen her grip. She turned quickly and bit him on the arm. He roared and backhanded her. Laheese spun away from the meat and fell full length in the dust, her daughter still clutched to her. Twisting as she fell, she managed to land on her side so her baby wasn't injured, but she was too stunned to get up.

  "She lay sprawled in the dust, holding her crying baby, crying herself, while the chief gave Da-sing the haunch of venison, and the other women of the village took the rest of the meat to cook over the communal fire. Rold went with Da-sing, carrying the booty for the shaman. She would cook it at a special fire built inside her house in a firepit that was also an altar, and then she would eat the m
eat herself—to please the spirits.

  "Laheese watched them go, weeping bitter tears of weakness and rage. The others walked around her, not looking at her. Slowly, she staggered to her feet, clinging to the wall of the nearest house to pull herself upright. She walked over to her mother's house and sat down in front of it. Her son looked at her listlessly. He was too weak to even care that there would be food soon.

  "She reached for him and held him against her side to share her warmth. She held a child in either arm and could feed neither of them. Until recently, her breasts had held enough milk to feed the girl, but she knew she could not feed both children from her body, so she'd let her son go hungry. Even now, he reached for the nipple nearest to him, but she pushed him away so the baby could have all the milk.

  "'Soon, Sweet One' she whispered, 'we'll have food very soon. Your father has brought us a deer, or at least some small part of one.'

  "Not even whining, he crawled away from her to the corner that was his bed. It was agony for her to see how thin and frail he'd become. His ribs stood up in ridges. His belly was distended with the gasses the preceded starvation. She would get food for him as soon as it was ready, even if she had to fight for it, she vowed. She clutched her baby daughter to her and made sure the child drained both breasts.

  "Later, when the meat was cooked, no one brought any to her, although she saw everyone else in the village receiving their small share of venison. At last, wearily, she set her daughter down in the nest of mosses that served as the girl's bed. She looked to where her son lay on the other side of the house. His eyes were half closed, and his breathing was shallow.

  "She stood, pausing in the doorway to straighten the tunic of antelope hide that hung by one strap from her left shoulder. Then she raised her chin and walked calmly to the communal firepit. There were still a few of the village elders sitting at the fire—two old women and an old man. One of the women was her dead mother's sister, the other was more distantly related. The old man was Rold's father's brother. They watched her without speaking as she approached them.

  "Laheese stopped on the far side of the firepit. Waves of heat rolled up from the glowing bed of coals before her. The smell of roast meat made her mouth water so heavily that she had to swallow before she spoke. 'No one has brought me my share of the food,' she began. But they looked away from her, still not speaking, licking their fingers and sucking the marrow from the remaining bones.

  "'I want what's mine.'

  "One of the old women spoke to the other, 'Did you hear a crow calling?'

  "'No,' her mother's sister replied, poking the fire with a stick, 'it's only the noise of the wind blowing through the grasses. Pay it no mind.'

  "'My children need food!' Laheese said sharply.

  "The old man sucked noisily, drawing the marrow out from a shin bone. The two women stared into the fire. Laheese stepped forward menacingly.

  "'I said, my children need food. Give me some!'

  "Her mother's sister looked up at her, eyes narrowed. 'Go away, girl. You have no respect for the spirits. You endanger the whole village.'

  "'I respect the spirits,' said my beloved, 'no one is more respectful than I—where respect is due. What I don't respect is a shaman who lives like a glutton while her people are starving.'

  "'We don't want to hear that kind of talk, especially from one who is so slow to learn as you. You are a grown woman with two children, and still you have not made the passage to full shaman.'

  "'That's more of Da-sing's spite. She fears me, fears my power, and so she refuses to grant me my true status and acknowledge me as her equal.'

  "'So you say, but I see no shaman in this village save Da-sing herself. There's no food for you here,' the old woman said. 'Better you should starve, you and your children with you.'

  "With a growl, Laheese walked straight toward her, stepping through the midst of the fire. She walked on glowing red coals as if they were stones in the river. She didn't look down, and she didn't hurry. The trailing end of her tunic scorched and shriveled, but Laheese neither burned nor blistered. She strode out of the fire on the far side with her skin whole, not even reddened. The elders hissed at her.

  "'Give me food for my children!' she demanded, holding out her hand.

  "Trembling, the old man offered his marrow bone. The women hastily found scraps of meat that they'd saved for themselves. They gave her all they had, and it was a pitifully small portion.

  "'Take it, shaman. We meant you no harm.'

  "Laheese closed her hand on it and turned and walked back through the fire, the way she had come. Her back was straight, and her stride was full of dignity as she returned through the red hot coals and on to where her children waited.

  "Once inside her house, she let the tears fall. But they were caused by the pain in her heart, not be any burns on her body. She knelt beside her son and slipped some of the softer bites into his mouth. He stirred and chewed a little at first, but then he seemed to give up. He lay in her arms, too weak even to hold the food in his mouth. Most of what she put in spilled out again. She put him down for a moment to take a twig and scrape at the marrow of the bone she'd taken from Rold's father's brother. There was only a mouthful, but it was soft and very rich. Maybe it would give him strength enough to eat more. She turned back to the boy and tenderly lifted his head. She gave a little cry. He wasn't breathing. She put her ear to his chest, listening for the beat of his heart, but it was still. Her son was dead.

  "She held him for a long time, rocking his cooling corpse. She held and rocked him while the sun set and the moon rose and waves of guilt and grief rose over her and drowned her in regret. Her face was wet with tears, but she made no sound. She stroked his thin, frail body as if he could still feel her touch.

  "And I was near her and in her. I slipped through her sleeping baby girl, and I even wandered the empty corridors of her dead son's body. But the boy was gone to that place that I can never reach."

  "Couldn't you bring the kid back to life, Nate Lee?" Razor asked, clearly amusing herself by pretending to believe my tale. "You were supposed to be a god or something. Right?"

  "Yeah," Scanlon said. One side of his face was silvered by moonlight, the other made gold by the light that spilled through the open French doors of the bar. "You bring the kid back to life. You're the hero. Everybody's happy. Makes a good story."

  "No," I answered honestly, "my power is over matter. I can change it how I will. I might have healed the boy's body, if I'd thought to do it in time." Although, bodies, with their ties to spirit, are not so easy to change. Still, my listeners didn't need to know that. "But I can't call back a spirit once it's gone to the land of the dead. Nor can I enter there. I am immortal. I can never pass that threshold. If I can capture a spirit before it escapes, I can hold it—in a secret place. But if it escapes me, I cannot follow it to the place of the dead."

  And sooner or later, to my regret, they all escaped me, including my beloved Laheese.

  "Secret place? You mean that ruby thing," One-eye put in.

  "Yes, in the ruby," I admitted. I did not tell them how many souls were locked in that blood red prison. I didn't show them that I still wore it tonight, mounted in yellow gold in a ring on my finger. I gazed around at my small audience, all of them looking tired and rather seedy from our day's sailing and replete with food and ale. Scanlon sucked at his teeth, while One-eye looked for the last tasty tidbits on his plate. Razor gazed at the barmaid. There was only one person here who needed to hear the rest of the tale. I sent a thought to the two men: it was late and time to leave. Soon enough Scanlon stretched, the joints in his back and shoulders popping loudly.

  "Man, you sound like an explosion," One-eye said to him.

  "I feel like a damp squib. This is enough fun for me tonight. Good night all, I'll see you in the morning." With another long stretch, he rose to leave.

  "Wait for me," One-eye said, scooting back his chair. "I'm leaving too." He turned to me. "Thanks for the st
ory, Nate Lee, even if there wasn't any sex."

  The two men strolled away and left me alone with Razor.

  "She wants me. I can tell," said Razor, still looking at the barmaid.

  "And her friend wants to keep her," I replied.

  Razor turned to me and grinned her gape-toothed grin. "Wanting and getting are two different things. I've done got old and ugly, but I ain't slowed down, not in bed nor out."

  "So, are you leaving, too, or are you going to stay here and see if you can take the girl home with you?"

  "Oh, I'm staying. And I won't be going home alone."

  "Then I may as well continue my story. This tale is intended for you."

  She gave me her attention then, and I could see the thoughts coming together behind her eyes. Could it be that old Razor would be the first of my beloved's far daughters, so many, many daughters down the long line of time, the first one to believe me when I told her the truth? I settled back more comfortably in my chair and continued my story, now told especially for my audience of one.

  "Laheese held her son and rocked his dead body and grieved. But gradually, as the sky darkened and the moon rose—a fat, full moon, like tonight's moon," I said gesturing past the wrought iron railing of the terrace where the white moon spilled its light over the sea before us, "the grief grew into anger, an icy anger, a fitting rage in the cold white light of Luna. And in the folly of my new born love for her, I nudged that grief in a direction that I thought would bring me all I desired.

  "She thought of Rold, now sleeping in Da-sing's house, while their son lay cooling in her arms. She brushed the hair away from the boy's face and kissed him on his mouth and on his forehead. Then she wrapped his corpse in a soft scrap of deer hide and set it aside while she turned to her daughter. She put the baby girl in a net sling made of woven grasses and lined with moss. The baby stirred once, then stuffed her fist in her mouth and went back to sleep. Careful not to wake her, Laheese put her own head and shoulder through the sling so that her daughter hung snug against her back. Then she knelt and gathered up the body of her son. She staggered a little as she rose. She was so weak from hunger and grief that she could barely carry the weight of both children.

  "Quietly, she stepped outside. All was silent. Full bellies guaranteed a deep rest and tonight, all except my beloved had eaten. Laheese stepped away from the house that had been her mother's and slipped silently through the village. Even without the bright moonlight, she would have known the way to Da-sing's house. She had spent half of her life sitting with the other apprentices around the shaman's firepit. She had learned to sing, to chant, to Journey. She'd learned herb lore and spirit lore. Over and over she had learned all the lessons, for Da-sing always found some fault with her so that she never received the final initiation. But tonight, Laheese was determined to perform her own initiation ceremony. And she would not come away from that ceremony empty handed.

  "But first there was the matter of her son. Wary as a deer approaching a waterhole, Laheese approached the house of Da-sing. She stepped lightly and carefully, watching for tools, for carelessly placed baskets. I followed as if I were her shadow. I was eager for her to deal with her son's body and get on with the night's work. Yes, I knew she grieved, but I did not grieve for her. I was new to love then. I had yet to learn all the many forms of love's vine that twined into the heart and soul. I smelled only the sweet scent of love's flowers. The bitter taste of love's fruit was yet to come.

  "Finally, step by cautious step, she reached the shaman's house. The hide that hung over the doorway was thrown back, and there were still a few embers in the firepit to give a faint glow of light. Laheese slipped inside, and I flowed in with her. It was dim in that house of bones, and it reeked of hides and charms, of herbs and grasses. It reeked of bodies seldom washed, and it stank with the smell of sex coming off the man and woman who sprawled on bear hides, sleeping. Over everything hung the smell of cooked meat.

  "Da-sing and Rold had finished the haunch of venison there was only a bit of sinew left on the bone. Her stomach churning at the odor, Laheese stepped next to the bear hides and knelt by the sleeping man. Both Rold and Da-sing were smeared with greasy streaks of the shaman's body paint, and she realized how thoroughly she'd been betrayed. Rold had gone with the old woman willingly and left her and their children to fend for themselves. Gently, she laid her dead son next to his father. Then, with one last kiss for the boy, one last glance of contempt for the man, she stood and left the house.

  "Once out of the village, Laheese walked quickly. She carried nothing but her baby girl, who was a warm bundle against her back. There was enough moonlight to show the path clearly and, at first, it led through territory she knew well. She passed the little spring where they drew their water, passed the place where the men knapped fine flint points for the spears as they talked and told stories, passed the stand of blackberries that provided fruit for the winter pemmican when there was enough meat to preserve for pemmican. She was tempted to stop here and gather a few last berries, but there wasn't enough light to see them clearly, and she knew that some of the brambles had thorns as big as her thumb. She continued into the forest, stumbling a little now that the tree shadows blocked the light. But I walked with her and gently nudged her feet to the safest path. Since I was not yet truly in the mortal world, I could do no more for her.

  "Laheese walked all night. She walked until the dawn colored the land with morning, until she reached a clearing where a small spring provided water, and soft grass invited her to lie down. She sank down beside the spring and drank her fill. Then she saw a trout in the water and snatched it out with her bare hands. The fish was slick and wriggling, but she held it with desperate care. Quickly, she ripped apart the soft flesh and scooped it clean. She ate the flesh raw, hardly bothering to chew as she gulped it down. When she had finished, she washed her hands and face in the spring and took her baby from the sling on her back. The child stirred and whimpered, and Laheese gave it her breast to nurse. After the baby had drained both breasts, Laheese found a spot where the sun shown down gently on the grass and curled up with her child to sleep. In moments, both were deep in dreamless slumber, helped along by my own will that Laheese care for herself. I stood guard over them all the long day while they slept, and no dangerous creature came near them.

  "It was evening when my beloved awoke. She drifted up slowly from her heavy sleep, as if she herself were a fish coming up from the depths. She opened her eyes with no memory of who or where she was or why she had slept in the clearing instead of in her own house. I gave a gentle nudge to her spirit, a small surge of energy, and suddenly she remembered her dead son and her betrayal by that son's father. The memory was a stab of pain that made her double over where she lay, as if the knowledge were truly a knife in her heart. And I, in spirit, howled with her for her pain was my pain now. It was then that I knew I was bound to this woman for eternity. I was trapped, truly and forever.

  "But her movement had awakened her daughter, who now howled herself. The baby was hungry, filthy, and frightened. Laheese fed her with her milk again—she had a little more now that she had eaten—and then washed her with water from the stream and changed the now filthy padding of moss that lined her sling for soft, fresh grass. When she was done, the baby was well enough content, and Laheese turned her thoughts to what she intended next.

  "I could see into her mind, and I knew she still planned to perform her own ceremony of passage, to proclaim herself a shaman to all the world of spirits, and to seek a guardian to help her defeat her enemy, Da-sing.

  "Laheese hid her child beneath the brush that grew nearby, pulling up long stems of grass around her like a doe hiding her fawn. Then, she stripped off the hide and leggings she wore and lay down naked on a bed of grasses and flowers, just as she'd been the first time I'd seen her. She had no one to drum for her, but she knew the sound so well that the rhythm was as clear in her mind as if the drummer sat beside her. Her breathing slowed, her eyes closed,
and Laheese began her Journey.

  "Her spirit slipped into the familiar dream and she stood looking down into the forested valley below. I followed her there and watched her from the shadows. Still, she wanted a powerful totem animal to be her help and guide in her battle with Da-sing. But all of the dream world knew about Mammoth and the fate she'd met at my will. None would come near Laheese while I lurked near the girl. Well then, if she wanted a totem, I would give her one. I put on the form of a stag in his prime, with a huge spread of antlers, and I stepped out from the shadows.

  "But my deception was for nothing. She knew me in an instant.

  "'You again!' She put her hands on her hips. Her spirit form wore only the shaman's cap with it's fringe of bone and the body paint that Da-sing had denied her. 'First a false wolf and then a false stag. Go away deceiver, I need more than your petty tricks.'

  "I dropped back into my wolf form again and grinned at her.

  "'You don't like my choices?' I looked into her mind and found a form that pleased her. I willed the change again, and a man stood before her.

  "'Rold?'

  "'Not Rold as he is,' I said. 'Rold as you would like him to be. This is the form that fills your heart. The man who sired your children is but a shadow of what you desire, but I can be everything that he is not.'

  "'What I desire is a guardian to help me save my tribe,' she said. But her eyes lingered long on the muscular form that I'd created. 'And beauty cannot bring success to our hunters. Your tricks call no game and feed no one.'

  "I changed forms once again. She had in her the image of a forest god, one even more powerful than the animal spirits she sought. But it was forbidden to approach this nameless green god, so Laheese sought to find Deer, or Elk, or Mammoth, whom she did not know was gone forever. I took the form described in her tribe's tales, man-shaped, tall, strong. A tangle of green hair hung down my back. Eyes the same leaf green peered from skin brown as bark, but smooth, with a satiny glimmer. I let the smallest trace of my power shimmer around me, just to let her know that I was no mere shape-shifter. Laheese caught her breath and trembled.

  "'My Lord, I did not know who you were.'

  "She still didn't know, but at last I'd found a form that she could understand. It would do. Yet, even believing me god of the forest, Laheese was still too proud to worship me. She stood straight and firm before me, too young to understand anything but her own needs, and I knew she was summoning up the strength to demand my help. But Laheese had been too long hungry. Her slender body burned its last reserves, and she fell like a young sapling going down under blow of a stone axe. Her spirit fell out of the dreaming realm and back into her exhausted body.

  "She sprawled on the grass amid the flowers, a small, too thin woman lying naked on soft grass. I could feel her spirit fluttering to be free. Soon, she would fly to that place where I could not follow. Her baby daughter mewled from her resting place in the brush nearby, as if she wanted to follow her mother. Desperate, I reached into the forest and called forth a doe and her fawn.

  My need drove me and, for the first time, I manifested a body in the mortal world. The forest god stood in the clearing where Laheese lay dying.

  "The deer emerged from the trees with slow grace, the doe first with her fawn following after, like innocence embodied. I made claws of my nails and slashed both their throats. Laheese's baby I set to suckle at the teat of the still warm doe. The fawn I tore apart with my hands, and I fed the tender, raw meat to my beloved.

  "I changed the meat as it entered my love, sending it to restore her famished body. Her ashy skin grew brown, and her bones were once again hidden behind firm young muscles. Her breathing deepened, and she slept in my arms. I healed her hurts and bruises, but there was nothing I could do for her bitter, broken heart. Beside us, the babe drained the doe dry and fell asleep with her head pillowed on the soft hide."

  But a voice interrupted my tale.

  "Another pitcher?" the barmaid asked, leaning well forward in Razor's direction so the old woman could peer down her dress. The cloth fell away, revealing pert breasts like ripe peaches.

  "Hell, yes," Razor answered with a wicked smile. "Bring us another, sweetheart, and bring a glass for yourself. Nate Lee's in fine form tonight, and you don't want to miss this tale."

  Did she really see nothing but a man telling a story? I glanced over at Razor--short gray hair, strong jaw, wrinkled skin, blue eyes eager for life. All Razor saw was a chance to get closer to the girl. I sighed, frustrated that she was so like Laheese in her single-minded focus on getting what she wanted.

  Thumping a pitcher on the table, the girl joined us. Kisha, she was called, a local girl looking to better herself. Razor was twice Kisha's age, but Razor owned her own business, down on the docks. Her company loaded cargo on anything that moved, whether by water or through space. She could afford to buy Kisha the shiny things the girl wanted. But over by the bar, Kisha's dock-hand lover waited. I watched her through the open doors that led inside from the terrace where we sat, and I saw how she glowered at the three of us in a way that boded no good.

  "Go on with your tale, Nate Lee," Razor urged as she slipped her arm around Kisha's slender waist. "Did you live happily ever after with this Laheese?"

  "Not exactly," I answered. "When Laheese awoke she still had only one thought in mind. She demanded that I help her defeat her enemy, Da-sing."

  "Demanded?" Razor asked. "You said she thought you were a god."

  "So I said, and so she did. But that made no difference to Laheese. To call her proud would not do her justice. She was beyond proud, beyond arrogant, to a realm of thought that was pure in single minded will. Indeed, it was what made me love her.

  "I could not resist her. I could not deny her. What Laheese wanted, I wanted. She consumed me.

  "That was the way of it.

  "So, I dressed the doe and wrapped the meat in the hide while Laheese nursed her baby again. I made a sack from the skin of the fawn's tail and hung it on a strand of the doe's sinew. With a thought, it was well cured, tanned and fit to hold my treasure. The ruby that was my heart fit inside it, the ruby that was prison to Mammoth and so many others. Then, I took the form of a woman, one young and comely, knowing that such a body would give me easier entry to the Mammoth Clan."

  "Yes!" said Razor, slamming her tankard on the table. "Now this story's getting better." She laughed and nuzzled Kishee's neck.

  At the bar, Kishee's lover started toward us. I saw love and jealousy flare around her, and she walked in a cloud of her own pain. But I had no patience with her. I willed her away and watched as she sat back down at the bar, a forlorn yet brooding figure.

  I took a deep draught from my tankard, then continued, determined to finish my tale and leave this place forever.

  "We stayed in the clearing another day and another night, Laheese, her baby girl, and I. I changed her memories of me, and she accepted me as her friend, a woman she'd met in her travels. I made a shaman's fur cap for Laheese, since she wanted one so much. With a thought, I placed it on her head and let the bone beads dangle around her pretty face. The cap was so much a part of her image of herself that Laheese never noticed the change.

  "Although she did not recognize me, Laheese was confident that her forest god favored her, and that she now had the power she needed to defeat Da-sing. So, at her command, I gathered the venison from the deer into a bundle and slung it over my shoulder while Laheese carried the child she called Little Love, and we started back toward the village of the Mammoth Clan. I changed time as we walked, slowly, subtly, so that Laheese took no note of it. I knew it would be safer for my love if there were no cause to question her now healthy and well fed flesh. When we arrived at our destination, a month had passed.

  "I made sure we reached the village without anyone seeing us. It seemed to the Mammoth Clan that their rejected would-be shaman had long been among them with her baby and a female stranger. But it was not by my doing that we arrived amidst confusion and
commotion. The Mammoth Chief and his hunters had returned to the village only moments before our arrival, and all they had to show for their hunt was a few rabbits and a pheasant. It was not nearly enough to fill the many empty bellies that awaited them.

  "Da-sing emerged from her house, dressed in her shaman's cap and beads, her body painted with designs in yellow, red, and black. Yet, even she looked thinner than when I'd seen her last. With their essence gone, the mammoth herds were dying, and the Mammoth Clan was dying with them.

  "'What is this?' Da-sing demanded, eyeing the pitiful handful of animals the hunters had brought back to the village. 'I thought you were men! Hunters of mammoth! This is game fit for small boys to bring down in their training hunts.'

  "She stood with her chin high, her hands on her hips, and stared at the Mammoth Chief with contempt. But he was not to be cowed by her. If blame was cast, it would not land on his weary shoulders.

  "'You sent us after mammoth, old woman,' he growled. 'We followed the way you told us your dream showed you. But there were no mammoth there. Just as there have been none of the great ones seen for all this past hunting season. You have lost your gift, shaman! The spirits no longer speak to you!'

  "I saw Da-sing glance toward Rold and saw that young man's face harden.

  "'It is you who have lost the favor of the spirits!' Da-sing spat, pointing at the chief with a bony finger. 'You are old and too weary to lead our clan any longer. It is time for a new chief, someone strong enough to lead our hunters to the kill.'

  "I smiled as I understood the game we'd come upon. This was all spectacle, for the battle was futile. The weight of Mammoth's soul was heavy inside the ruby that I carried in the pouch hung around my neck. No matter who won today, there was no future for my beloved's clan. But Laheese did not know that. She had heard all that I had heard and made her own conclusions. She stepped forward, bold as always, looking strong and fit with the flesh I had restored covering her bones. Her baby hung from the sling on her back. The child slept, no longer crying from hunger.

  "Rold started as he recognized Laheese. Da-sing hissed. The Mammoth Chief regarded her with sudden calculation.

  "'It is true that Da-sing has lost her gift,' Laheese asserted. 'She can find no game because there is no room in her heart for anything but her own desires.'

  "'Liar!' Da-sing burst out. 'Vain girl! How dare you set yourself against me! Take off that cap that you have no right to wear. I am ashamed that I allowed you into my house to try to teach you.'

  "Laheese shook her head, making the bone beads of her shaman's cap dance. 'I have taught myself more than you ever wanted me to know, greedy old woman. I can find the game that you cannot see!'

  "The Mammoth Chief looked from one woman to the next, and he noted how Rold stood between them, as if he were the real prize in this war of wills between the women. Da-sing preferred Rold to the chief in her bed, and now she'd made it plain that she meant Rold replace him as Mammoth Chief as well. An idea bloomed among the chief's slow, persistent thoughts, and I smiled again as I realized what he planned.

  "'Show us your power,' he said, 'both of you. Let the spirits settle this. The one who brings us game is the true shaman.'

  "'So be it,' Laheese agreed, full of faith in her forest god.

  "Da-sing had no way out. 'As you say,' she told the chief. 'We will dream, this upstart girl and I.'

  "And I, knowing how much this meant to my beloved, decided to take a hand in the game.

  "'No need for dreaming,' I said. For the first time, they noticed that I was there. I dropped the hide full of venison on the ground at my feet. 'Laheese can call game to the village, such is her power.' I looked at Da-sing. 'Can you do the same?'

  "There was murmuring from the hungry people gathered around us.

  "'That is not the way of our ancestors!' Da-sing protested.

  "The chief saw his chance and took it. 'The way of our ancestors leaves us with empty bellies,' he said. 'If this girl can call game to the village, she is indeed a most powerful shaman, favored by the spirits.'

  "I smiled then, although from the uneasy glances that came my way, I knew my smile held too much of a wolf's grin. 'Out of respect for her age and power,' I said, 'let the shaman, Da-sing, make the first effort. Can she not call one of the great ones to the village?'

  "It was all I could do not to laugh out loud when I saw how Da-sing paled. Even if the old woman had been as powerful as she liked to pretend, I knew there were no more mammoth to call. But Da-sing was trapped in her own boasting. So, she began the show. She chanted, she called on spirits and powers, she called on Mammoth who was no more. She threw colored powders into the fire as she gestured and danced. After a time, all grew weary of this display. Da-sing's steps faltered. Her voice cracked. She was nearly as hungry and weak as the others, and the pretense had taken much out of her.

  "At last, the Mammoth Chief grew tired of Da-sing's efforts. He turned toward Laheese. 'Can you do better than this, girl?'

  "Laheese smiled and held out her hands. I stood behind her and, with my mind, I searched the land surrounding the village. Not far away, a small herd of deer lay hidden in the forest. With a thought, I willed them to come to me. A few moments later, just as the Mammoth Chief started to look uneasy, a stag, his two does, and their fawns stepped out from among the trees.

  "Da-sing made a high pitched sound of denial. Rold and the other hunters reached for their spears. The animals stood, held by my will, and let themselves be slaughtered. There was a smell of blood and entrails on the air. The men ripped apart the animals with savage efficiency as the old women built up the cooking fire.

  "The men set the freshly butchered meat on a bed of pine branches and divided it into piles--a share for the hunters, a share for the chief, plenty for the other people of the clan. That left the fourth share, the shaman's share. Da-sing started to reach for it, out of habit as much as anything, I suppose. The chief's brawny arm knocked her aside. Da-sing sprawled on her face in the dirt, and her shaman's cap rolled away into the shadows.

  "The Mammoth Chief turned to Laheese and pointed out the last share of meat. 'This is yours, shaman, yours by right.' Laheese took the meat and took her place as shaman of the Mammoth Clan. She took Da-sing's house and Da-sing's lovers. Rold lived with her in Da-sing's old house, while Little Love, later named Anith, lived with me in Laheese's mother's old place. When it pleased her, Laheese sent Rold away and took the Mammoth Chief to her bed."

  "So, you lived happily ever after with your little love, did you?" Razor asked.

  "Ever after," I replied, "but not happily.

  "Anith grew from child to woman in the time I spent with her mother. Her budding breasts and graceful walk made her look like her mother had when first I met her. Indeed, my heart ached with old memories every time I saw her for I knew my time with my beloved was coming to an end. No," I told my listener, knowing full well how her mind ran, "I did not desire Anith. It was her mother I loved, loved then, love always. But I looked after the girl for the sake of Laheese.

  "So it went, year after year. My love's hair grew gray, and her thin figure grew thinner. Anith grew to a woman and took a man of her own. The old chief died, and Laheese allowed Rold to replace him, although all knew that he ruled only the hunt. I made my body age to match that of Laheese. More than once, I slipped into her dreams to offer her youth again. Immortality for a mortal woman was beyond even my power, but I could stop the pain and weariness. Yet, she always refused me. She was too much grounded in what she was to want what I offered. So, she grew older and weaker.

  "I moved back Laheese into her mother's house so I could care for her. She'd long since taught Anith all she knew of the shaman's way, and now her daughter led the tribe and her husband led the hunters. They hunted deer and bison, and other game, and the great ones became creatures of myth and legend."

  "Your tale ends with a whimper," Kishee pouted. "She comes back and grows old. There's nothing special about that."
>
  I looked at the barmaid, and she shuddered.

  "Go," I told her. "This tale is not for you. Go join your lover before you break her heart."

  Razor frowned, but Kishee got up and went back inside the bar. We sat in silence for a few moments at our table on the terrace, the moon bathing us in glimmering light.

  "Well, then, Nate Lee, finish your tale. I want to hear the last of it before I take that girl home with me."

  "As you wish," I said. "As Kishee noted, Laheese came home, became their shaman, and grew old among her people. Then, at last, there came the day that I held Laheese in my arms as she struggled to breathe.

  "'Let me help you!' I begged her. 'Let me heal you and make you young again.'

  "Frail as a bundle of sticks wrapped in hide, still her spirit was as strong and as proud as ever. She refused me. Again, she refused me!"

  "I paused to let that bitter memory pass. If only she'd accepted what I offered, we could have had so much more time together!

  "So, she died, did she?" Razor asked. But her eyes were on the bar, peering through the open door at the lighted scene within. The barmaid and her lover stood close together, heads touching.

  "She was dying," I corrected. "My love was dying, so I let drop the disguise I'd worn for most of her life and let her see her forest god again.

  "'At last, you return, my lord.' She smiled a little, as if she'd known who I was all along. 'My life has been good. My daughter is shaman, as I have been.' She held up one thin hand to stop me as I opened my mouth to beg her one last time to accept my gift. 'I do not want to be young again. I am ready to travel to the next world. But I do have one request.'

  "'What is it? Ask, and I will give you your heart's desire.'

  "'My daughter,' she whispered, her voice almost gone, her spirit hanging by a breath, 'give my daughter her heart's desire, and each of her daughters after her, so long as my line shall last, forever.'

  "'Yes,' I promised, too new to the world to understand how rash that promise was. 'I will give them their heart's desire, just as you ask. Only, stay with me! Don't go where I can't follow!'

  "But it was too late, I was talking to a corpse. The spirit of Laheese had fled, leaving me to fulfill my dreadful promise. And so I have, from daughter to daughter, on to her farthest daughter, even so today. And now, at last, it ends."

  Razor's face turned toward me in the darkness. One side of her face glimmered with moonlight and the other glowed golden with the light from the bar beside us. "It's all true, isn't it?"

  "Yes," I answered, "every heartache of it."

  "So, why tell me?"

  But I heard the suspicion in her voice. She'd guessed the point of my tale.

  "You know why, far-daughter. I'm here to grant your heart's desire."

  Razor laughed. "Nate Lee! Enough with this game. I've got a girl to steal." She made as if to rise.

  So, froze time around us and stripped away the veil that hid my nature. I revealed myself as I truly I was, revealed myself only to her, to the last far-daughter of my beloved Laheese. Razor gasped and fell back in her chair. I could hear the hammering of her heart, the quickness of her breath, feel the rush of adrenaline that had her looking for a place to run. But, after a moment, I hid myself again. I only wanted her to believe. I didn't want to destroy her.

  "So, tell me, far-daughter, last-daughter, what is your heart's desire? Do you want little Kishee? Or another? Money? Power? Just tell me. Let this curse be finished at last."

  Just tell me, I thought, so my torment can be ended at long, long last.

  But Razor was tough. She recovered quickly and leaned forward so that I could see the look of calculation on her face.

  "I've got money," she said, "and power enough to suit me. Girls like Kishee I can win or buy. They come cheap and easy. I can have Kishee and her lover, too, without any of your tricks."

  I frowned, impatient to be on my way.

  "What do you want then? Tell me!"

  "I'm still strong," she said, "but slower than I was. My bones ache morning and night. I want what you offered Laheese. I want to be young again. Make me young, Nate Lee. I want to be young and strong and beautiful again. That's my heart's desire."

  "So be it," I said. And it was done. Why then did I feel disappointed to have this thing end so easily? Was it because this last daughter had asked for the thing my love had refused?

  Razor stood, taller now that her back was straighter. She pushed black hair away from a handsome face and smiled at me with white, white teeth. Then, she turned and walked toward the bar. I knew she'd take the other two home with her tonight. And that in a year, all three women would be dead one by a knife, one by poison, and the third drowned in the ocean that flowed below our terrace. But that was Razor's choice. It was done.

  Razor paused at the door to the bar and turned to look back at me. She smiled again, a mocking grin and tossed the words over her shoulder, "I'm not the last, Nate Lee," she said, "in case you thought you were done. In my youth, I found pleasure with men as well as women. I have a daughter of my own—somewhere. I haven't seen or heard from Silkie for twenty years, but if she's still alive, then she is the last far-daughter of Laheese, not I."

  With that final blow, she left me there, alone on the terrace in the night. But no night was so dark as the despair that filled my heart.

  The End

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  *****

  Love's End