Chapter Thirteen

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Alistair's last spoken word echoes inside the cave until only silence smothers our ears. Having heard Ewar's story through a translator's lips has been a learning experience for me. We misinterpreted nearly every major issue we've ever had! I thought he brought me to "Mayant-hattatar" to get rid of me - but in reality, he was hoping Alistair might help me. As for Ewar, he thinks some ancient fertility goddess sent me here to become his wife.

Sigh. How do I break the bad news to him gently?

I glance over at him. He can't be much older than me, yet he looks like he's lived through a hundred years worth of misery. After hearing his side of things, I believe I'm responsible for 99.999% of his current unhappiness.

A dull ache pounds my head on the inside. I rub my temples with my fingers to fight it off. "There's so much to cover," I groan. "I don't even know where to begin."

"I think," says Alistair with a pensive air, "we should discuss the most pressing issue first."

"And that would be?"

"The Soul Eaters, of course!"

"Oh right. Do you know anything about them?"

"Only a little. But what I do know of them, I don't like one bit. I suppose a story is in order." He clears his throat. "As I told you before, the Cave of Life is a religious mecca. People come from all around to pay their respects to the Mother Goddess and to the many other Great Spirits." Alistair glances at his beautiful wife. "Onya's mother, Ahsas, was once the caretaker here, a position she held until she passed away several years ago. Back when she was a young woman, she said a new tribe visited. She met with them and welcomed them as any good caretaker would. They called themselves the Soul Eaters.

"She came to regret the hospitality she showed. The Soul Eaters were at the Cave of Life not to worship... but to make a sacrifice. One of their members had grown too old, they said, and it was time to help him cross over into death. Allegedly, cannibalism was how they kept their former members' spirits alive within the living, but I suspect it had more to do with obtaining power. They believed sacrificing their tribal elder on sacred ground would enhance the power of his spirit, hence making it more desirable to eat.

"As you may imagine, Ahsas was none too pleased with their plan. The man they intended to sacrifice had no illness nor physical infirmity. He could have lived many more years if he had been a member of a less bloodthirsty group. Social rules here may be lax by modern standards, but murder has never been condoned!" Alistair tamps down his rising anger to let out a sigh. "Ahsas demanded the Soul Eaters leave and told them in no uncertain terms to never come back. The man they wished to sacrifice, unfortunately, refused all offers of sanctuary. He had been indoctrinated to such a degree that he felt his life meant nothing compared to the spiritual needs of his tribe. He was quite resigned to becoming their sacrificial lamb.

"This happened many years ago, but I doubt the Soul Eaters' customs have changed much since then. Like Ewar, I too have heard a great number of stories detailing their alleged misdeeds. If even half are true... Well, let's just say I hope to never meet them face to face."

I swallow. "Is there nothing that can be done about them?"

Alistair shakes his head. "I'm afraid not."

I rocket up into a standing position. "This is crazy! So they can just go around murdering people whenever they please with no consequences?"

"We have no police to pursue them, no prisons to contain them. This is a time of tribal rule, Bella. Anything that happens outside of your tribe is usually considered as being out of your jurisdiction. Remember, there won't be any kings or governments making laws for their subjects to follow for several more millennia."

I start pacing, hands behind my back. "Just great. There's no way to stop them. I guess I'm just a sitting duck to these guys."

"From what Ewar told me, I don't think it's as bad as that, my dear. Only the second in command, Ora, showed interest in you."

I snort. "Oh. 'Only' one psycho wants to do terrible, unspeakable things to me. That's so much better!"

Alistair taps his chin musingly. "Yes... yes, I do see why you might feel concerned. This Ora fellow sounds dreadfully unpleasant. Whatever he wished to do with you couldn't have been good. Even if he merely wanted to make you his wife, there is no guarantee it would last for long. I have heard tales saying the Soul Eaters - ah - dispose of their women before the bloom of youth fades. And as I mentioned before, it is doubtful they ever die of natural causes."

Me as Snake-Eyes's wife? Eww. I'm shivering at the mental image he put in my head.

"What should I do, Alistair? I don't want to be on the menu at the next Soul Eaters banquet."

"It's simple, my dear girl. We're going to send you home. Ora can't get you if you're in a different century!"

My smile is so big, it hurts my cheeks. Before we heard Ewar's side of things, Alistair mentioned he had another time machine. I had been hoping he would bring this up again!

"That would be wonderful," I reply. "I assume your second time-traveling chair is in good enough shape to do the job?"

"It should, however it has been quite some time since I last laid eyes on that chair - ten years, to be precise."

"Ten years? Why so long? Is this cave so huge that you rarely come across it?"

He looks at me strangely. "Yes, this cave is enormous, though I hardly see how that has anything to do with the chair."

"But earlier you said the chair was in the cave," I remind him.

His eyes suddenly go brighter. "Oh. You thought I meant the chair was in this cave? Dear me, no! The chair isn't here."

"Ok. Then where is it?"

"The Lake District."

I stare at him like he just sprang a second head. "The Lake District?"

"Yes."

A gnawing feeling begins at my lower spine. "Alistair," I say as calmly as I can. "Where are we exactly?"

He scrunches his forehead. "The Cave of Life."

"And if we were to look at a map from a more modern era, what country would this cave be considered a part of?"

"Why, England, of course."

"You mean to say this barren, barbaric hellscape is part of the British Isles?!"

"Isles? Oh no. What will eventually become the British Isles is more of a peninsula at the moment. You see, the Ice Age glaciers hold so much water, the world's oceans have shrunk quite dramatically. Land in the distant future that is fathoms deep underwater is bone dry in this day. Why, the English Channel and North Sea don't even exist at this point. If I wanted, I could walk to the European mainland without ever getting my feet wet!"

My mouth has flopped open. There are no words to properly express my current emotional state.

"Are you all right, Bella? You look a bit under the weather." Alistair tilts his head in question. "Did you really not know? How odd. Where exactly did you think we were if it wasn't prehistoric England?"

With a groan, I throw up my hands. "I don't know! Siberia, maybe."

He laughs like it's the funniest thing he ever heard. "Why on earth would you think that?"

"Because nothing is the same! Where are the picturesque villages and huge, bustling cities? Where are the gently rolling hills and flower-covered meadows? Where are the god damn pubs?! England isn't supposed to have fucking wooly mammoths, Alistair."

He twists his mouth contritely. "Now that you mention it, I suppose it does seem somewhat altered from the dear Old Blighty we knew from before."

"That is the understatement of all understatements," I mumble.

"I see you have been operating under a misconception. Both time machines I constructed were stationary, as chairs tend to be. Although they were capable of transporting a person through time, the machines will always reappear in the same spot they left. For example, the Lake District is where my ancestral home is located, as you may recall. There's a small cave hidden not too far off the beaten path. It was my childhood hideout, and it made for an excellent place to hide my chair while I finished tinkering with it. When I finally took the leap through time, naturally I ended up in the very same cave - however, it was in the Lake District of the past." He gasps. "You were inside the museum when you took your trip. That means my beloved Tuddleston House - and some of London itself - is where Damara's forest once stood! Remarkable, isn't it?"

I can't find it in myself to be excited about his discovery. He must see the despair written on my face because he comes over to pat my hand. "There, there, my dear girl. Never fear! We'll get you home. England may look different in some respects but I am quite good at navigation. Onya and I will be delighted to take you where I hid the chair. All it needs is a bit of a dusting and perhaps a quick tune up. Then I'm sure it will be ready to take you straight back to twenty-first century London!"

I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. Once I feel I am in control of myself again, I try to sound more upbeat. "Thank you for your kind offer. How long will it take for us to get there?"

"To the Lake District? Oh, not long. Two... maybe three weeks if the weather is poor."

I blink at him. "Weeks of walking? Not just hours or days? Like, from sun up till sun down kind of walking?"

"Yes! And we'll go through some lovely scenery too. The Lake District of the Ice Age has some small but gorgeous glaciers nestled between its mountain peaks! When I first arrived ten years ago, I couldn't enjoy the sights as I would have liked. That pesky polar bear kept chasing me whenever I stopped to admire the view."

I widen my eyes in alarm. "There are polar bears in the Lake District?"

"Only a few. Most of their species prefer sticking close to large bodies of water - and the 'lakes' of the Lake District are mere puddles at the moment. They won't exist until the mountain glaciers melt in a few hundred more years. And with three of us traveling together, I doubt the bears will give us much trouble." A flash of hesitancy crosses his face. "At least... I think it will be safer. Polar bears are difficult to predict when they get hungry."

I have to press a finger against my mouth to keep from screaming.

"Alastair... is there anything else I should know? Any pertinent information you neglected to mention which might affect my life?"

"No." He screws his face in deep concentration. "Well, unless you consider the length of time until we can embark on our trip."

"How long?" I ask warily.

"Around eight months."

"What the hell, Alistair! Are you saying I can't go home for another eight months?! Why can't we go now?"

"That is out of the question. Heading that far north is impossible this time of year. It is now the beginning of October. I can assure you the Lake District has been experiencing winter weather for weeks already. Imagine horrid, tundra conditions and unending blizzards. It would be like visiting the North Pole! That's why people today only live in the southern parts of England. There won't be anyone living permanently in Scotland or the Lake District for at least another thousand years. The only safe time you can travel north would be during the summer months."

I shake my head and huff. "I don't understand. If the conditions are as bad as you say, why would you leave a priceless invention like your time machine way up there?"

"I had good reason," he defends. "After I arrived in the Ice Age, I couldn't very well carry the chair around with me. It's quite bulky and heavy, you know. If I had attempted carrying it the three hundred or so miles to where Onya's father would eventually find me, no doubt I would have exhausted myself long before rescue was feasible. Look at it my way: it was either store it away in the cave, or risk my life." He spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. "I went with the former instead of the latter. But don't you fret. The chair is quite safe where I left it."

"Yeah," I say dryly. "Radium is famous for keeping things toasty warm. Radiation is nifty in that way."

"Quite so! It's like the radium heating pad... which someone else managed to patent before I got the chance."

I release a breath at the disappointment in his voice. He isn't intentionally trying to sabotage me, I remind myself. He's just... Alistair. His brain works differently than most people's.

I give him a sympathetic glance. "Be happy you didn't release that heating pad to the public, Alistair. Think of all the people who would have died of radiation poisoning just because their back was hurting a little. You wouldn't want their blood on your hands."

"True, true. I'm content with my life the way it is. No need to lament over a failed invention when I have all this!"

"I'm happy for you, I really am... but what should I do? How will I survive until it's warm enough for us to go north?"

He thinks for a few seconds, then he whispers something into Onya's ear. She smiles and nods. After a quick peck of the lips, she leaves the chamber. Now only Alistair, Ewar, and myself remain.

"Onya has agreed to let you stay with us, Bella," he announces proudly. "She left to get our home ready. It's a little hut right outside the cave entrance. We have plenty of space for a roommate!"

I give him some side-eye. "You think it's a good idea for me to stay in this village? The one where dozens of Damara fangirls and boys tried ripping my clothes off for souvenirs?"

"As far as I am aware, the village's permanent residents were not involved in the incident. A band of visitors are to whom we must place the blame. I'm sure they will all be gone within the week."

"But what about when the next batch of visitors show up? They could get wind that I'm supposedly this Damara goddess. The same thing might happen again and again and again. I don't know if I can handle that brand of worship full-time, Alistair."

"Hmm, good point. Well... there's always option number two."

"And that is?"

He smiles at the man who has been quietly watching (but not understanding) this entire conversation. "You could go back to the Bat People settlement. Ewar has kept you relatively safe so far. I'm sure he can do it a little while longer."

My eyes flick to Ewar's face. I see curiosity... and hope, which makes me feel awful.

I address Alistair again. "What are you saying exactly? You want us to live together, like he and I are a happy couple, for eight more months?"

"Yes, that's the long and short of it."

"Nuh-uh. No way. I can't do that to him. I've used Ewar enough."

"Used him? Balderdash! He's your husband. It is his responsibility to care for you."

"I'm his wife in name only. Ewar doesn't deserve to be tied down to me when I'll be leaving this place in less than a year." A startling realization hits me. "Oh my God. Even if I do make it back home, I can never remarry. I'd be a bigamist!"

Alistair shakes his head. "Have you forgotten? Ewar had a wife before you, yet he was unattached when you came along."

"Divorce exists here?"

"In a way. It's much simpler than the divorce process of our day. There are no courts to go through, waiting periods, or papers to sign. When a woman decides to break the matrimonial bond, all she has to do is leave her husband's home."

"That's it?"

His nod confirms it. My spirit lifts. My accidental marriage doesn't have to be a life sentence! Divorce sounds easy as pie. This just might be the best perk to living in the Stone Age.

"So you see," he continues, "there is really nothing to worry about. The Bat People are one of the largest tribes in the region. Not even the Soul Eaters would wish to antagonize them any further. And, with Ewar as your ally, you will be quite safe there."

I suck on my lower lip as I think things over. Eventually, I shake my head. "I can't ask Ewar to protect me for eight more months. It's not fair to him."

"Oh, I disagree. The arrangement would be mutually beneficial."

"How so?"

Alistair's lips twitch into a smirk. "You forgot why he was in Damara's forest in the first place. He was seeking help for his supposed infertility. Do you recall what happened after he met you? Coming home with the Goddess of Fertility greatly boosted his reputation within the tribe. And when you bound yourself to him... my stars! I'm sure no one in his village gives a hoot anymore about those baseless infertility rumors. By the time you're ready to set off for the twenty-first century, Ewar will likely have several unattached women eager to take your place. Why? He had a goddess as his wife! They'll think he's the bee's knees just because Damara showed him favor. Mark my words, he will have no problem finding your replacement."

"I... guess that would benefit him in a way," I reply hesitantly.

I take the time to weigh the pros and cons of Alistair's idea. After a hard deliberation within myself, I make up my mind.

"Let's do it - but only if Ewar agrees. Tell him the truth so he can make an informed decision."

"How much truth would you like for me to reveal?"

"All of it."

Alistair's bushy eyebrows lift. "You want me to tell him when and where you are from?"

"Yes."

"Come now, Bella! Let's be reasonable here. He will not understand the concept of the future - at least not to the extent we need. For him, it's either winter or it's the warm season. Or it's yesterday, today, or tomorrow. The people of this time understand generations to a degree, but nothing beyond that. Years and months won't be developed until civilizations arise.

"And numbers! Do you know how they count? They use tally marks carved into bone and wood. Higher numbers are unknown. My wife is one of the most amazing, intelligent people I have ever known. But can she comprehend that I came here from 1922, which is a distance of 13,000 years into the future? No, she cannot. I have tried explaining it to her so many times... Nevertheless, if you were to ask her right now where I was born and raised, Onya would say I came from the North - where the Great Spirits reside." He shrugs a shoulder bashfully. "She swears I must have been blessed by them to be so wise."

"Ewar is smart too!" I argue. "Look at all he figured out on his own. Just give him a chance."

He goes quiet. After a whole minute of observing me, he gives an exaggerated sigh. "All right. I will try."

He turns to Ewar and switches from English to the ancient language. After a while of talking, Ewar interrupts, his forehead crinkled into multiple lines. Alistair shakes his head in frustration.

"It's no use," he says with finality. "He doesn't understand."

"Then let me try to explain."

"Bella..."

"All you have to do is translate! Please."

He gives a half-hearted nod. The relief I feel is like air to a drowning man. The only thing is... I have no idea what to say.

How on earth do you explain concepts not yet invented to a man who fashions clothes from animal skins?

I begin pacing, back and forth, to sort through the jumbled mess that is my brain. My feet come to a stop. A strategy! I will explain everything as though I were speaking to a small child. And if it doesn't work, at least I gave it a shot.

I take a seat in front of where Ewar sits. It's almost painful seeing his trusting gaze pinned on me. What I'm about to reveal is going to hurt him. But this must be done. He needs to know the truth.

"Ewar," I begin. "I come from a place you have never heard of." While Alistair translates, I hold up my phone. "You see this? Where I live, almost everyone has one of these. We call it a phone. You know what else? It's not magic, either. This is nothing more than a tool. And the gods didn't make my phone - regular people did."

After Alistair finishes converting what I said, Ewar has something of his own to say.

"That is impossible," Alistair translates. "No one could make such a thing without help from the Great Spirits."

I give Ewar a sad smile. "I know it seems impossible, but I promise it's the truth. I come from a place that has many things you never dreamed of." I show him a picture I took of a fountain in Trafalgar Square. "Look at all those buildings in the background. People made those."

I scroll to a video I made. Moving cars speed down the road, and people of all walks of life scurry down the sidewalk. When my smiling face comes into view on screen, Ewar gasps. I don't think he realized it was possible.

"This phone doesn't steal souls," I explain in a gentle voice. "All it does is remember how things were in a given moment. It's not much different from when someone paints something on a cave wall. Those things are called cars. People use them to get to places faster. And look! That lady is holding a phone exactly this one. And that guy too. As you can see, there's not a god or goddess in sight. Just ordinary people."

Ewar's troubled eyes leave the screen. "Kuwapi edani?"

Alistair clears his throat. "He wants to know where on earth that place is."

"It's near where I live. But none of that... exists yet."

Ewar furrows his brow as Alistair translates. "How can something not exist when I see it with my own eyes?"

"It's because everything you saw is from the future," I tell him with a straight face. "Including me."

"I do not understand you, Bella. What is future?"

"The future is anything that hasn't happened yet but will eventually. Tomorrow is the future. This coming winter is the future. And when the children of today are grown adults, that's the future too. That takes a long time, doesn't it? But I come from a place much farther than that." I gulp. "Around thirteen thousand winters into the future, actually."

Ewar goes blank faced.

Alistair shakes his head. "That is much too complicated. None of Ewar's people have ever counted to a number that high."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Um. Ewar, imagine it's dark outside and you're looking up at the sky. See all those stars? Well, that's close to how many winters into the future I come from."

Seconds after Alistair translates, Ewar's startled gaze freezes on my face.

Alistair chuckles. "That seems to have done it. Good job, Bella. You really know how to stun a fellow!"

I ignore his teasing and concentrate on Ewar. The wheels are turning in his head, but he is unable to speak. I take his hands in mine. If it's for my comfort or his, I couldn't really say.

"There's more. Alistair is from the future too, and he made this amazing..." I belatedly realize he wouldn't recognize the word machine. "He made this amazing thing. Two things, actually. They have the ability to send people into the past or the future. One brought him here. The other he left behind because he thought it didn't work. But you know me. Bad luck seems to follow me around. I touched his invention by accident, blinked, and then I was surrounded by a forest... Damara's forest. I was so confused. See, where I come from, there is no Damara's forest."

Ewar licks at his dry lips and speaks. "I don't understand. What happened to the forest?"

"Thirteen thousand winters is a long time. Maybe it burnt to the ground or got chopped down at some point. Who knows. I certainly don't. Before I met you, I had never even heard of Damara, let alone knew anything about her sacred forest."

"That cannot be. Everyone knows of Damara."

I take a shaky breath. "I didn't."

He swallows and starts shaking his head. "No. You were sent here by Damara."

Unable to sit still any longer, I take a several steps to release my pent-up energy. Then, I twirl back around. "I'm not who you think I am, Ewar. You've got some idolized version of me stuck in your head I could never live up to. Don't get me wrong - it's flattering. But I'm not the sweet, innocent girl of your dreams. I have a smart-ass, dirty mouth that's gotten me into trouble more than once. And as for my 'maidenhood'?" I snort without humor. "I haven't been a virgin since I was seventeen."

He looks even more lost than before. "But you refused to consummate our marriage..."

"I didn't know what I was doing when I married you! I mean... I had never seen a binding ceremony before that day, Ewar. I had no idea what was happening, so I just went along with it. It wasn't until after we were bound together that I realized what we had done." The stricken look on Ewar's face almost kills me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," I add guiltily.

A minute or two passes. His expression gradually darkens into a stubborn scowl.

"Damara sent you here. She sent you here for me."

I shut my eyes to maintain composure. "No, she did not. I ended up here by accident. I'm not affiliated with any fertility goddesses, ok? To be honest, I'm one of the least fertile women you could ever find." I lift my tunic enough to show off my bellybutton. "A doctor put something inside me to prevent pregnancy. It should last several more years." As Alistair translates this information, Ewar clenches his jaw. I quickly clear up the confusion. "No, Ewar! Don't get mad for my sake. I asked the doctor to do it. It's called an iud. Think of it as a special medicine to keep a woman infertile."

"But... why? Why do that to yourself?"

I pull down the tunic, once again covering all my skin. "It's different where I come from. Most people don't want babies when they're only eighteen years old. They want to live, enjoy being young and free. People usually wait until they're ready."

His lips quiver, as though afraid to ask a question. "And when will you be ready?"

I throw up my arms and shrug. "I don't know! Maybe in a few more years; maybe never. Just... just look at me. Do I look capable of raising a kid? Hell, I can barely take care of myself!" I sigh. "You are a great guy, but I'm not right for you. You see that, don't you?"

Upon translating this last bit of information, the room goes quiet.

Alistair wiggles a finger for attention. "Pardon me for interrupting, but I think Ewar understands enough now. It's time to see if he's willing to play husband a few more months."

My mouth twists. "Are you sure about this plan of yours? It seems wrong to let everyone continue thinking I'm Damara. Besides, I'm sick and tired of being worshiped... or accused of being a malevolent goddess."

"I can sympathize with you, Bella, but we must tread carefully. Our entire plan hinges on the fact that you are the Goddess. If you were to admit you are nothing more than a mortal woman, I doubt it would improve Ewar's situation. They must believe beyond a shadow of doubt that he has been favored by the Great Spirits."

I frown. "Right." Both of us brainstorm a solution. After a short pause, I snap my fingers. "I got it. How about we tell them I'm Damara's emissary? It explains why I was in the forest and why I have my so-called 'magic stone'. Damara saw how devout Ewar was and decided to send me to..." I struggle to end the sentence. "-bless him in her name?"

"You married him, Bella. What will they think in eight months time when you announce you are leaving him? His reputation will go into free fall."

"That can be explained away. We can say I only have permission to stay for a certain amount of time - just long enough to bless Ewar fully and have him ready for his next wife. Damara needs me back by her side next summer."

"Yes. That might do... That might do very well, indeed." He grins. "I say! Your lies are top-notch. Have you ever considered running for political office?"

"No thanks. I'll stick to ruining my own life instead of taking thousands of constituents down with me."

He chuckles. "Getting back to the issue at hand, how about I tell Ewar our revised plan?"

"Yeah, ok. But make sure he understands he doesn't have to do it if he doesn't want to. Oh, one more thing." I spy on Ewar through my lashes. He's staring forlornly at the floor. It has me feeling downright awful. "Please tell him that even though we won't truly be a couple, I'd like for us to be good friends."

Alistair lays out the plan. Ewar barely says a word. His expression goes from injured to resigned.

"Well!" chirps Alistair. "He agreed to everything. He had but one condition: he demanded to be taught some English! Said if you two have to pretend being husband and wife until the warm season, the least he could do is learn to talk to you. He also insisted on escorting you back here when the time is right, so I wouldn't have to travel all the way to his village just to collect you. Isn't that considerate of him?"

It is. But I already knew Ewar was a nice person. I would be lying dead somewhere if he wasn't.

"That's great," I reply flatly. "How will we know when I'm supposed to come back here?"

He ponders the question. "Hmm. I'll tell you what. Don't leave his village until after Damara's Feast Day. It would seem rather strange to everyone if you skipped out on that holiday. It's the biggest of the year! The weather is warmer; the plants are green and blooming. They believe Damara has once again made everything fertile after months of winter. Think of it as a forerunner of Easter."

"And how will I know when it's that day? It's not like anyone here (except maybe you) uses a calendar."

"Correct. They go by the changes in their environment. When you see a wild rose in full bloom, you'll know the celebration will soon follow."

00000000000000000000

Alistair invited us to stay the night at his home, saying it's important we rest properly before journeying back to the gorge. We gratefully accept the offer. Stepping outside of the cave, a group of my unwanted devotees cheer when they catch sight of me. Alistair intervenes before they can snatch any souvenirs off my body. He gives them the same explanation we plan on giving everyone: that I'm just a young woman who happens to work for the real Damara. Most of the crowd backs off. A few remain stubbornly skeptical of Alistair's explanation. No one dares approach me, though. I'm not sure if it's Ewar's menacing scowl keeping them at bay, or the fact Onya is nearby and armed with her bow and arrows.

The evening is devoted to study. Alistair teaches Ewar important words and phrases in English. His mind is like a sponge, soaking up the knowledge easily. But when I try to learn words in his language, I only master a few. The pronunciation is so complicated! Alistair says I shouldn't be too hard on myself. Not everyone learns at the same rate. He is a genius, so I guess he knows what he's talking about.

The next morning, Onya gives me a bundle of various dried herbs. Alistair says they are a peace offering meant for Oza. Some have medicinal properties beneficial for women recuperating from childbirth; others are helpful for depression. I thank them for the thought, but I doubt Oza is going to trust me enough to take the medicine. She's more likely to burn the bundle of herbs to ash just to spite me.

A backwards wave to our generous hosts later, Ewar and I set off on our journey.

Free from the presence of other people, Ewar goes stone-cold silent. The awkwardness increases the further we leave behind the Cave of Life settlement. I don't know how to fix the tension, so I keep my mouth shut too.

Was it a mistake to go back to the gorge with him? I can't imagine living the next eight months like this.

I shake the uncharitable thought from my head. Ewar kept me alive and well for weeks. The very least I can do is stick to the plan. If making everyone believe we're a happy couple will help him in the long run, I'm all for it. He might be a little disappointed now, but eventually, he will agree I am poor wife material. He'll end up with a much better woman once I'm gone from the Stone Age.

Around midday, we come upon a trickle of a stream. It's so small, I can bunny hop across it. As Ewar lugs the sledge over it, his head snaps down. Something's in the water. He bends to pick it up.

"What'cha got there?" I ask, pointing.

He opens his palm, revealing an olive-green stone.

"Beautiful," I whisper. "And it's so smooth. Being in the water for no telling how long polished it to a shine. It would look great as jewelry."

He wets his lips and fidgets in place. "Speak," he mumbles. "Rock... speak."

His attempt at communicating is impressive. I can actually understand him. He mentioned before that some stones tell him what they want to become. It makes sense. He is a sculptor, after all.

"What will you..." I pretend my fist is a rock and use the other hand to strike it, simulating carving a statue. "... make?"

He contemplates my words. A small spark brightens his eyes. "Suppal-pir."

I raise my eyebrows, letting him know I am unfamiliar with the word.

He leads me over to a patch of dirt. Using his finger, he draws half a circle on the ground. When a head and stubby little legs are added, I make an "O" with my mouth.

"Turtle! You're going to make a turtle."

We make eye contact. The proud, goofy smile on my face is mirrored on his own.

The moment passes like the wind.

He wipes the smile away and picks up the sledge's handles. It's back to business. We have a whole lot of walking ahead of us, so there's no time to dawdle. On a lighter note, the awkwardness isn't as oppressive as before. He even checks on me every now and then instead of ignoring me. I hope it bodes well for our future friendship.

We fall into a routine. Walk all day. Stop at dusk. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. During our waking hours, he acquires the habit of pointing at random things and asking, "Whats-that?" I keep my answers simple, like Alistair suggested. Ewar has a passion for learning, like that of a child. It's actually an endearing trait. I doubt there's too many people in this world willing to learn a second language - especially one which technically shouldn't exist yet. And it's all so he can communicate with little ol' me.

He'll make someone a good husband one day.

On the third morning of the trip, we awaken to an overcast sky. The temperature refuses to rise. The wind nips at our exposed skin. Without the sun's cheerful glow, the gloom rubs off on our moods. Ewar isn't interested in learning much English today, which is fine by me. I don't have the mental energy to talk.

That is, until I hear the clap of thunder.

"Wonderful," I groan. "Couldn't it have waited to rain until after we've taken cover inside a decent shelter? I don't wanna get all wet."

Oddly, the sound does not end. It goes on rolling, rising in volume. We stop to look at one another in question. Ewar sucks in a breath.

"Pittenu!"

"What's wrong? What's pittenu?"

He stabs a finger to his left. "Pittenu, pittenu!"

I squint into the distance. Moving darkness envelopes the land east of here, ebbing and flowing like water. It's not liquid of any kind. I can make out fur and the outline of bodies. A heavy dose of dread gets my heart pumping. Now, I'm no genius like Mister Tuddleston, but I think I figured out what pittenu means.

"Stampede!"

The herd numbers in the thousands. The closer they get, the more I realize how screwed we are. It measures at least a mile wide and moves like a runaway train. Anything standing in the herd's way will be flattened. Even if Ewar and I were to start running now, we'd never get past them in time.

His thoughts must align with mine. He spins around in a panic. Then, no warning whatsoever, he lifts the sledge and starts pulling like his life depends on it.

"Bella!"

I follow after him. He takes us to a place where higher ground meets the lower. One side of the small hill is slowly being eroded away by the elements, leaving behind a wall of dirt. He drops the sledge's handles and forces me into a sitting position against the wall. Working fast, he shoves my precious basket into my lap and takes off running again. As he tries lining up our baskets along the wall, he stops and glances over the hilltop. With panting breath, he abandons the task and turns the sledge on its side. The remainder of our supplies are dumped on the ground. The sledge is wedged in front of where I sit, forming a barrier between myself and the world. Ewar slams his back against the wall next to me, eyes wild.

Before I can utter a sound, the underside of a massive animal sails above our heads.

It lands on four legs and continues its run no problem. The creature has a shaggy coat and a body built like a tank. Bison. But this guy is larger than its modern counterpart. The horns are easily the length of my forearm. Another bison follows the first. Then another, and another. The ground under our feet shakes. More are coming. The sledge wobbles, threatening to fall. Ewar leans forward to steady it.

Is he crazy?!

I snatch him by the roots of his hair and pull him backwards. A split second later, a hoof appears right where his head had been.

We take no chances after that near fatal disaster. In an effort to become as small as possible, we each tuck ourself into a ball. The herd is relentless. I lose count of how many bison pass over where we hide. Hooves stir up a dust cloud, making it difficult to breathe. The sky blacks out. We see nothing except legs and fur. Along with their grunts and screeches, the pounding of the ground by numerous beasts - each weighing more than a fully loaded pick-up truck - is enough to make our eardrums ache.

This is truly hell on earth.

It is impossible to judge time. All I know is it feels like forever before the herd moves on. Even when it's clear no more bison are around, Ewar and I remain where we are, coughing and sputtering to catch our breath. Gradually, the spell breaks. We stand up, dust ourselves off, and take stock of the situation. No surprise, it's not good.

"Wha... What the fuck was that?!"

"Fuck?" questions my shellshocked English student.

I taught this innocent young man a bad word. Do I feel guilty? No.

"That's right, Ewar. Fuck, fuck..." I kick at the remains of a now empty basket, sending it flying. "FUCK!"

Angry tears pool in my eyes. The sledge is destroyed. Its thick branches have been reduced to scattered twigs and splinters. Most of our food? Gone or trampled. Our blankets? One undamaged, another holey but still usable, and the rest ripped to shreds. Our water? The basket is intact but it was turned over during the chaos, leaving only a few drops. And to add to the very top of this shitcake, we're only halfway back to the gorge.

How are we going to make it the rest of the way without the necessary supplies?

My fingers claw down my face. "Ugh. This day cannot get any worse."

As if to prove how very wrong I am, the first snowflake lands on the tip of my nose, mocking me.

00000000000000000000

A/N-

That was a herd of steppe bison, by the way. They went extinct worldwide around 1,500 BCE.

Ru-roh. Looks like winter is coming to prehistoric Britain. People who review will help keep our protagonists warm.

Thanks for reading. :-)