Return to Innocence
Cutter was roused from a pleasant sleep by a frantic Sending. Briefly he was thankful that it hadn't been that nightmare again, but that thought was immediately lost in the icy hot surge of anger and fear as his waking mind processed the sending.
Zhantee! Venka! HELP! Ekuar's cry sliced through everyone's mind in desperate open Sending. The ancient rockshaper's mindvoice was unusually clear and focused. Cutter didn't even want to guess at the catastrophe that so sharpened Ekuar's mind, and it was as much fear of whatever had happened as the urgency of Ekuar's call that sent him scrambling out of the den.
He wasn't the only one running for the sea cliff outside the holt. Most of the tribe pelted after him, apprehension stamped clear on every face. Only the scouts maintained their posts and that only by an exertion of stern will.
Once they got to the cliff it was hard to wait, but wait they did as Venka and Zhantee, protected by Zhantee's Shielding, slid into the sea and descended towards the Palace. It was especially hard for Cutter to be there so close to the Child-snatcher. He could feel Leetah's hand holding his arm tightly, but all he could do was glare furiously down at the depths. Unaware that he was growling not-so-under his breath he tried to decide who he hated more right now, Winnowill or Rayek.
Many tense moments passed before they could see Zhantee and Venka returning. The peace of those moments was both reassuring and nerve wracking. What was happening down there? Was The Black Snake awake? Were they going to have to fight for their lives again? At last, however, they surfaced, bringing Ekuar with them. Venka carried something cradled to her chest, bundled hastily in blankets.
"Well?" Cutter growled once they'd climbed back up the cliff.
Venka's hands tightened on her bundle before she replied. "It is... complicated, my chief. We are not sure exactly what happened." Her characteristic calm had not changed, but she did seem to be at something of a loss. Cutter turned his attention to Ekuar. Ekuar tried to smile at the wolf chief's glower, but his heart wasn't in it.
"It's all so jumbled in my old head... One moment he was napping peacefully-- or as peacefully as he can, these days--" he added with a slightly plaintive smile. His aside was greeted with stony stares from the Wolfriders. They had nothing against him, but if he'd get no sympathy for his beloved Brownskin from them. "Then, well, he started tossing frightfully and I heard him yell at Winnowill." The old elf's brow furrowed with the effort to remember clearly. "That's when I called for Venka and Zhantee. I could feel them fighting it out, the air in the Palace was thick with magic. I was so afraid of what she'd do to him..." Ekuar trailed off, forgetting his story as he stared worriedly at the blanketed object in Venka's arms.
"So? What's the result of this fuss, lass?" Treestump stepped forward, his massive arms crossed, right hand still clenching his axe.
"Winnowill sleeps, bound again," Venka said quietly.
Cutter threw his arms up in disgust. "So that's it? Some squabbling between the Snakes? As long as Winnowill is bound again and the Child-snatcher stays down in the muck, it's no concern of mine."
Frowning slightly, Venka knelt down and set her bundle on the ground. "As I said, my chief, it's a little complicated..." Gently, she peeled the blankets away to reveal a sleeping child. The sun, bright on this unforested patch of rock, woke him and he sat up, blinking and rubbing confused eyes.
The Wolfriders stared first in surprise then in shock. The dark gold/brown skin, the sleek black hair and the narrow, disturbing amber eyes were familiar enough, but the sight of them on a child who couldn't be more than four summers old...
"Mother says staring isn't polite," the impossible child said, staring back at them and folding his arms righteously.
Leetah knelt, bringing herself closer to his eye level. "And who is your mother, kitling?" she asked gently.
He blinked at her. "Mother is... mother," he said, impatiently. "She looks like her," he pointed at Clearbrook, "only her hair's not so long, her eyes are purple and her skin's brown. Why are you all so white? Are you sick?"
The implication staggered Leetah. Slowly she raised her head to Venka, her face asking the question she couldn't find the nerve to voice. Venka nodded solemnly. Leetah lowered her head again and stared at the small boy regarding her quizzically. Rayek was, for all intents and purposes, four years old. And he didn't remember a thing.