Page 113 of Wind Rider

His clapping was deafening, and immediately echoed by everyone on the platform, as well as those surrounding the tree.

Ralina knew that He stood over her, but she remained submissively bowed until He did as she’d envisioned so many times. Death gently lifted her. His smile was terrible and filled with dark joy.

“You are, indeed, remarkable,” Death said. “Now, go. Break your fast at your leisure. You are right. I will not chance ruining my tale for the novelty of seeing what you and your Shepherd might become together.” Then He planted a burning kiss on her forehead.

Branded by Death, Ralina and Bear left the God’s tree. She did not vomit bile onto the forest floor until they were well out of His presence.

CHAPTER 18

PRESENT DAY—THE TRIBE OF THE TREES

Though they were supposed to leave the forest and cast off on the Channel at dawn of the fifth day, it wasn’t until mid-morning that the ragtag collection of patched boats and hastily built rafts were loaded and ready to enter the water.

Ralina had watched Death’s Reapers and Attendants loading the boats with meat they’d hastily smoked over the past five days—every bit of it tainted—as she and Bear dug through the mud along the Channel bank, uncovering wapato roots and filling basket after basket. She even crossed the rusted bridge to Farm Island, where she dug through the weed-choked fields and harvested early artichokes, baby carrots, potatoes, and beets. After she filled as many baskets as she could, Ralina began foraging for mushrooms.

She had unexpected help from Renard, a young Warrior she’d hardly known before the forest fire. He’d just passed his twenty-first winter, which meant he was almost a decade younger than the Storyteller. So, it wasn’t unusual that Ralina hadn’t been acquainted with him before the tragedy. Men that age tended to worship the beautiful, charismatic Storyteller from afar, but up close could rarely put a complete sentence together—let alone say anything that Ralina might find interesting.

But Renard had behaved differently than the others that fateful night Mari had healed much of the Tribe and then fled with Nik and Fortina,who was at that time Maeve’s pup. He was one of the few Warriors who had listened to Ralina when she encouraged the Tribe not to eat any tainted meat. Renard and his sole surviving family member, his father, Daniel, immediately cut meat out of their diet, though they did it quietly, as Death’s Reapers liked to report back to their God about Tribe members who didn’t sicken. If they were Warriors, it was likely that their meatless stews were “accidentally” tainted, so that they were forced to either accept The Cure or be sickened, rounded up, and herded into the pen—the place where the Tribe went to die.

Renard did neither. He, his father, and Renard’s big black Shepherd, Kong, kept an extremely low profile. They made themselves useful helping the Reapers scavenge supplies from the rubble that the forest fire left, and basically just stayed out of the way of Thaddeus and the men who had taken The Cure and followed him.

Renard and his little family had become so good at avoiding conflict and blending in with the Reapers that it hadn’t been until the day after Death announced that they were going to leave the forest and head to the Plains of the Wind Riders—without a Lynx guide—that Ralina had realized the young Warrior was free of the skin-sloughing sickness. She had literally run into him as she and Bear were heading to the Channel to begin collecting as many roots and vegetables as possible to take on the journey. Renard and his Kong had been ambling along in the shadows, heading into the blackened ruins of the Tribe of the Trees to continue to forage useful items from the nests. Ralina had been on her hands and knees, digging for morel mushrooms in the pine needles of the forest floor, when Renard had tripped over her.

One look at him had told Ralina that he was dirty, tired, and too thin, but completely uninfected—and from there they had formed an alliance. She did know his father, an adequate carver who specialized in making arrows for crossbows. After she and Renard talked, Ralina formed a plan.

From that day until the mid-morning launch, Renard had helped her collect roots, vegetables, mushrooms, and berries, which they packed away in any kind of travel basket or container they could scavenge. Shetold his father to carve arrows—a lot of arrows—and then the two of them were to follow her lead, as she was determined to help them.

And that is exactly what they did on launch day.

“Storyteller! Where are you?” Death bellowed.

Ralina had been standing to the side of the crowd of Reapers and Thaddeus and his followers as the boats and rafts had been loaded. She had already chosen her boat—a small craft that she’d found half submerged just off the Farm Island bank when she’d been harvesting crops. Renard and his father had helped her repair it, added two ballasts—one for Bear and one for Kong—and then the two men had silently paddled it across the Channel the night before the planned launch. That morning the three of them had packed it full with their food, the few bits of clothing and pelts that had survived the fire, and Daniel’s carving tools and arrows.

When Death called Ralina’s name, she turned to Renard and Daniel. “Okay, remember, just follow my lead, but try not to say too much. Death’s moods are unpredictable. He changes His mind constantly, but He needs me. All I must do is be sure He knows I need the two of you.”

Renard reached out as if he wanted to touch her shoulder, but he stopped short—still shy and unsure around her. “Don’t put yourself in danger,” Renard said. “Father and I can stay here.”

“Indeed, Ralina,” Daniel said. “We will go north after everyone launches. We can join another Tribe. All will be well.”

Ralina remembered the odd, pungent scent of rendered fat that had suddenly permeated the air around the circumference of the Tribe of the Trees, as well as the mounds of dry pine boughs that Death had ordered His Reapers to pile along the Channel edge of the Tribal territory. Death wouldn’t speak of what He was doing, which was alarming. The God liked to tell Ralina every tiny thing He was thinking and doing because He’d said He wanted her tale to be true.

So, what was He hiding? Whatever it was couldn’t be good for those being left behind. Ralina’s intuition was telling her to get Renard and Daniel out of the forest—and she was determined to listen to her intuition.

“Storyteller!”Death shouted again.

“Follow me. Quickly.” Ralina hurried to the center of the beach, where Death was directing His Reapers to launch the flotilla of hastily made rafts. She jogged to the God and bowed deeply. “My Lord, I am here.”

“It’s about time. My raft is loading and I would that you join me.” He turned His back to her and began striding toward the largest, and most well made of the rafts, where several of His favorite Attendants already waited aboard.

“My Lord, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Death stopped and turned neatly on His cloven hooves. Ralina saw a sly curiosity in his gaze. His lips tilted up. “I do enjoy granting favors to those who serve me well, and you serve me well, little Storyteller. What favor may I grant you—but keep in mind that a favor granted is a debt acquired.”

Ralina swallowed her fear—met the God’s eyes—and spoke calmly. “I understand that, my Lord. The favor that I ask is that you allow me to travel in my own boat.”

“But you cannot possibly be strong enough to keep up with the rest of us, so that is impossible. Ask me another favor, Storyteller, and I will try to grant it to you.”

“My Lord, I will not be paddling at all. I will be working on your tale, and to do so I need more solitude than I would find on your raft. You understand this, as you already granted me my own nest so that I might create in peace. I asked one of the Warriors, Renard, and his father, Daniel—who is an excellent carver—to repair a small boat and ready it for the trip. They have done so, and agreed to do all of the paddling so that I can be left in peace to write your tale.” Ralina motioned for Renard and his father to step forward, which they did, bowing low.