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About Tehuti
I am an amateur writer of novels, serials, and novellas. Most of my work is in the genres of fantasy, mythology, drama, occult, GLBT, and erotica.
As I'm not seeking publication, I offer my work online for free reading. I'm not seeking stylistic critique so much as feedback from people who just like reading what I write. I love hearing what people think of my characters, plots, themes, etc., so if you have any comments or advice on those, feel free to share. I'm not hugely popular and often go many months without hearing from readers so I enjoy all the comments I get!
My interests are Ojibwa mythology, Mackinac Island, Egyptian mythology, Jungian symbolism and dream interpretation, ritual crime, fantasy writing, and various other things you can find in my personal bio, available just to the right. Please click to learn more about me and what I'm looking for in terms of readers and potential friends.
Feel free to hit me up if you're interested in any of these things, and enjoy my writing!
Tar! :) |
Part 51: Escort Service Main story folder & table of contents: "Escape From Manitou Island" 
Previous chapter: "Part 50: Uneasy Truces"
PART FIFTY-ONE:
Escort Service
CHARMIAN, SINGING CEDARS, and Walks-On-The-Shore all stared across the river at the dozen or so strangers on the opposite bank, their bows drawn and arrows pointed right at the three's heads. One arrow was already wedged between the rocks near the rapids, still quivering; Charmian felt all of the blood drain from her face, and wondered who these people were and what their issue might be.
As if reading her thoughts, one of them, with a decent set of turkey plumes on his head, took a step forward and started talking so loudly and angrily that she nearly flinched. She blinked in confusion when she realized that she couldn't understand a word he was saying--it sounded like gibberish, and really fast gibberish at that. He gesticulated several times; all that she could gather was that he was quite upset about...something.
Even more to her surprise, Singing Cedars took a step forward as well, and started talking back in the same gibberish language. He waved his arms as well, and for a moment the two of them took turns doing this, gibbering and flailing as if they were bickering over prices in the market.
Charmian's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to ask Singing Cedars what was going on, when she realized that whatever they were saying was beginning to grow clearer. The nonsense rambling began to evolve into English, and she gasped and glanced down at the little face necklace that Glooskap had given her. Whatever this language was, she must not have ever heard it before. Now that she'd heard it...
"...Foolish, unwise, and idiotic to boot!" the stranger on the opposite shore was saying. "Why your behind has not been thoroughly thrashed, I fail to understand!"
"I'm quite capable of looking out for myself, thank you very much!" Singing Cedars retorted. "And if you have an issue with the way I do things then why don't you take it up with me personally?"
The man on the other shore huffed, then stepped into the water and started splashing their way. Charmian's eyes goggled and she quickly slipped behind the Onondaga, peering out at the strangers as they all started wading across.
"Do...was that really such a good idea...?" she whispered in panic.
Singing Cedars turned his head a fraction to the side. "Don't worry. They're merely Seneca; they won't attack. Though they do seem rather upset..."
The gang of strangers started clambering up the riverbank, the lead one with the set of turkey plumes scowling the entire way. "You look to be barely more than a pup!" he groused; Singing Cedars fumed right back at him, but he seemed to have lost attention. His eyes fixed on Charmian now, and she ducked behind Singing Cedars again when the Seneca waved at her. "And what is that? What are you doing with something like--that?" He pulled his bow off of his shoulder and glanced around. "Those vermin in black, are they anywhere around...?"
Singing Cedars rolled his eyes. "No, they're not! And she's hardly one of them! She happens to be my little sister, and we were on our way to the wall of water. We just happened to have to pass through your land to get there. I'm your brother! This should be no bother to any of you."
The lead Seneca pursed his lips and made a face. "It would not be a problem, if you had not chosen a poor time to go for a walk! You should know better than to decide to wander around at such a time. It's a wonder your head hasn't been shot through already!"
"It's important," Charmian managed to speak up, though when the Seneca glared at her she slid back behind Singing Cedars.
He snorted. "She talks back. You should slap some sense into your sister." He looked at Singing Cedars again. "Why is it that you so badly need to reach the wall of water--?"
"It's a personal matter," Singing Cedars replied. "Of no concern to any of your people, seeing as we all own this water and you have no right to keep us from it. Just let us know how far away we may be, and the safest path to take, and we'll be on our way and not bother any of you again."
The Seneca wrinkled his nose, then looked at Charmian, who blinked in surprise. "You should slap some sense into your brother." He now turned his head and noticed Walks-On-The-Shore standing off to their side, and his eyes goggled. A split second later every single bow was aimed right at his head, and all of the color drained from his face, as if on cue.
"A WYANDOTTE!!" the lead Seneca bellowed, making the other two grimace. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE COMPANY OF ONE OF THOSE?!"
Singing Cedars immediately began waving his hands. "It's not what it looks like! He wouldn't even BE here if I had my say!!"
Walks-On-The-Shore started huffing. "SEE IF I EVER TRAVEL WITH YOU AGAIN!!" he yelled right back.
The lead Seneca jiggled his bow. "Explain! You may be brother to us but you're still just a whelp and whelps are known for making stupid judgements! Including passing through our territory with the enemy! We're to believe that you're headed to the wall of water with the enemy in tow for personal matters? Are there more of those annoyances in black robes that way--?"
Singing Cedars opened his mouth to protest. He didn't get to, as Charmian pushed her way out in front of him, her pack dangling from one hand. The Seneca all frowned at her when she held out her free hand, waving it wildly. She held a half-empty bag of marshmallows.
"S'mores! Peace!!" she yelled. "Where I come from S'mores mean peace! S'mores--? Please--?!"
The lead Seneca just blinked, apparently perplexed by her reaction. A quick glance at Singing Cedars resulted in little more than a helpless shrug.
It wasn't too much later that a fire had been built in the shelter of some trees a bit away from the riverbank, and the small group sat around it, watching curiously as their marshmallows roasted on the ends of their sticks. Once the gooey objects were smushed between graham crackers and squares of chocolate, and handed around, some murmuring arose, but at least it wasn't quite so hostile anymore. Both Charmian and Singing Cedars let out a breath of relief, though Walks-On-The-Shore was far too absorbed in balancing on his head against a rock to care.
"Where I come from," the lead Seneca managed to say around a mouthful of S'more, "we just smoke a pipe."
Charmian blushed. "Sorry...I don't exactly carry one on me." She tucked the box of crackers closer to her side. "I was hoping you might be able to tell us a bit more about the wall of water."
"Truthfully," the lead Seneca said, swallowing his S'more and giving her an intent look. "What is your purpose in seeking this place?" He looked at Singing Cedars, and frowned. "Especially in the company of a Wyandotte?"
"He's harmless," Charmian hastened to put in. When the Seneca looked at her she twirled a finger at her head, hoping that the gesture was understood. "He's...crazy," she said. "Loose in the head. I mean...look at him." They both glanced at Walks-On-The-Shore now, to see that not only was he standing on his head, but he had little pine sprigs stuck in his nose as well. "Does he look like he poses any threat--?"
The lead Seneca stared at Walks-On-The-Shore for a moment, then grunted. "Guess not." He turned back to her and Singing Cedars. "But this leaves open your reason for wandering about this part of the land at such a time. You are aware that we are at war with the black robes, aren't you--?"
Singing Cedars lowered his head a little and rubbed at his neck. "It's important," he said a bit testily. "Otherwise I wouldn't have even bothered!"
"It has to do with the place I came from," Charmian said; the lead Seneca turned to her again. "It's an Island way to the west," she said, waving westward. "Where all the big lakes are."
The Seneca just got an ugly look. "This area is rife with black robes," he said in an unpleasant voice.
Charmian waved her hands, hoping to mollify him before anything got any worse. "I--I don't even know any black robes!!" she insisted. "I mean--I know a few French people, if that's what you mean, but none of them are black robes, and none of them have ever been here...I think...I'm pretty sure! The people I know are decent people. They--um--they like S'mores, too," she said, feeling rather lame.
The Seneca still looked skeptical, but at last sat back against a tree and folded his arms. "Very well then," he muttered. "You travel through dangerous territory, friend of the black robes, with a Wyandotte in tow, for an important reason." His eyes narrowed. "It had better be a quite important reason."
"It is," Singing Cedars said, but Charmian cut in before he could say anything further.
"It is," she echoed. "The Island where I come from is in danger. We had to come looking for the East Wind to try to help. We heard that he lives behind the wall of water west of here."
The lead Seneca tilted his head and frowned again. "The East Wind--? What has the East Wind to do with your problems?"
Charmian shrugged. "We were told that he might be able to help us find someone who can really help us," she tried to explain, knowing that she at least partially failed, judging by the look on the Seneca's face. "It's complicated...but basically if we don't find this guy, the Island will be destroyed, and everyone on it too, and I can't let that happen. That Island means a lot to me."
The lead Seneca stared at her for so long that she wanted to squirm, though she managed to hold herself still. Finally he snorted again, resting once more against the tree.
"I have never heard any tales of the East Wind living behind the wall of water," he grumbled.
Singing Cedars gave a small shrug. "My grandmother told the tale. Before this I had no idea either, but she's never lied to me before. Her name is Snowy Pine."
"Snowy Pine?" The lead Seneca's eyes grew a little, and Charmian frowned this time; was the old woman so well known around here? The Seneca's stare drifted toward the ground and he rubbed at his chin as if in thought. "Well...all I can say is, whether this East Wind is there or not, isn't for me to say. But the wall of water is about four days' foot travel from here."
Charmian sighed and sank into her vest miserably. She had nothing against walking, but walking for four days was something she'd never really looked forward to.
"And in this territory, and your state," the Seneca added, "you'd hardly make it there alive."
"I think we can do just fine on our own," Singing Cedars retorted.
The Seneca snorted again, though he seemed rather amused. "How old are you again--?"
"Do you have any suggestions for which way to take to get there safest?" Charmian murmured; they all looked at her. She stared at the fire. "I know you don't think we'll make it," she said, "but do you know any?"
The lead Seneca stared at her, then his nose twitched. "Your only way there without getting lost is to follow the river. But this is also the most heavily watched space. I'm afraid you have no safe way to get there as you currently are. Perhaps without him, you would fare tolerably well." He gestured at Walks-On-The-Shore, who appeared to have fallen asleep upside-down. "You are interested in perhaps leaving him behind...?"
"What?" Charmian blinked, then let out her breath abruptly. "No! I'm hardly going to leave him BEHIND where he'll get all cooked and eaten and stuff--!"
"They don't actually eat them..." Singing Cedars started to murmur, but she gave him such a venomous glare that he shut his mouth and sat back.
"No offense," she said to the Seneca, "but he comes with us. He's from the Island too; I can't just leave him behind."
The lead Seneca shrugged. "Well then, the three of you are in trouble. You managed to get our attention before we could shoot any of you in the head; but keep in mind this is only because I haven't been at my best lately, and accidentally missed!"
Charmian sighed. "So just stick to the river," she said. "I guess we've got it. Thanks for the advice."
There was another silence as the lead Seneca stared at them, the other Seneca still eating their S'mores. After a while he let out a great sigh and started clambering to his feet.
"If you ever plan on making it to that water," he said in a rather peeved-sounding voice, "then you will need an escort. And by that, I do not mean a Wyandotte and a pup." Singing Cedars began steaming. "I think you would only make do with a fleet of canoes."
"We don't have any canoes," Charmian said with a sigh, remembering how easily Francois and the others had made theirs; why hadn't she gone along to watch them?
The Seneca grunted again. "I rather figured, seeing you three walking around in the open!" He jerked his hand at the river. "We happen to have canoes."
Understanding started to creep over Charmian, and she looked at Singing Cedars to see if he got it as well; judging by the look on his face, he did. They both turned to the Seneca, then Charmian got to her feet.
"You...you're offering us a ride?" she asked hopefully.
The lead Seneca just gave the same gusty sigh. "As much as I hate helping along a Wyandotte...I can hardly in good conscience turn down a little girl!"
Charmian's mouth shot open; immediately both Singing Cedars and Walks-On-The-Shore had their hands clamped over it. Singing Cedars nodded quickly at the lead Seneca, who frowned.
"She--um--we accept," he said hastily. "And thank you for the kind offer!"
The lead Seneca gave them a very odd look, then turned away. "Whatever. Follow."
They picked up their belongings and all started walking, but for a few Seneca who remained behind to put out the fire. The lead Seneca, taller and broader than both of those with Charmian, also walked much faster, and they had to hurry just to keep up. Charmian glared at the other two until they let her go, then rushed forward to join him, panting slightly. "I didn't get to ask you your name," she said. "Mine's Charmian."
"Tooth," the lead Seneca muttered, and kept on walking when she stopped. She furrowed her brow.
"'Tooth'...?" Her perplexed look grew. "Your name is 'Tooth'...?"
Singing Cedars took her by the arm and started her walking again. "Don't ask!" he hissed under his breath.
"I just think it's a funny name, is all..." Charmian began to say, but he put his hand over her mouth again to silence her.
By the time that they reached the river, several of the Seneca had waded across, and were already retrieving their canoes from the woods on the other side. "Mind crossing where it's shallow?" Tooth asked; Charmian shook her head, and stepped into the water, only to shiver madly at how cold it was. She bit down her shivering, seeing that the temperature didn't seem to affect anyone but her; she had to focus on where exactly she stepped, which managed to take her mind off of the cold at least a little. She gasped when she nearly bumped into Tooth, she was so intent on what she was doing; to her surprise, he only kept walking, but did say something, without turning his head.
"Don't worry," he muttered under his breath. "It's as cold as being hugged by frozen otters."
Charmian blinked. Her spirits lifted a little bit, and she focused on following again.
They reached the canoes, which had been put into the water; Charmian didn't feel too bad being helped into one by Singing Cedars, who then clambered in himself, Walks-On-The-Shore following. "If you three need to ride together," Tooth said as soon as he saw them, "then one of you will have to pick up the slack! These canoes seat only four each. So whoever of you doesn't mind a little work, sit in the back."
"I wouldn't mind..." Charmian started to say, but the other two gave her very frank looks which made her cut herself off. "What? What is it?"
"Paddling a canoe is no work for..." Singing Cedars bit his lip, then said, "It's no work for a girl. You know I mean no offense otherwise I would have said little!" he said as soon as Charmian's face began to darken. "I'll take up the rear! You can pick up a paddle and swing it a few times along the way just to find out for yourself. It's hardly work for somebody as small and inexperienced as you, no matter how many odd creatures you've fought!"
"It's just pushing a paddle," Charmian groused. "Anybody with half a brain can do that!"
"Yes, but we're not talking about brains," Singing Cedars said; Tooth cut him off by waving again, getting into the nose of the canoe and settling down.
"If you want to reach the water in about a day," he said, "then we'd best get going. It's dangerous there; you'll have to do a bit of walking toward the very end. The canoes would never hold out."
Singing Cedars nodded and moved into the back of the canoe, picking up the other paddle. "A day--?" Charmian exclaimed, and sighed with relief. "I've already spent a lot of time in a canoe; so one day is a LOT better than FOUR!"
"Mm," Tooth grunted, and stuck his paddle in the water. "Just make sure you're tucked in and don't have any limbs dangling over the sides. It gets rocky now and then; so watch carefully which way we decide to go, if you need to work your way back from here."
I won't have to, Charmian thought, then peered back at Singing Cedars as he started paddling. His own words from not that long ago came back to her--I'll take you to that river, and walk you up to the wall of water, and then that's it. Everything after that, you're on your own. Don't expect me to coddle you every step of the way! She sighed to herself at the thought of heading off on her own again...even though Walks-On-The-Shore would still be there, still, he made rather poor company compared to everyone else. Except maybe Pakwa.
It wasn't long before they were out in the middle of the widening river, heading south against the current. Charmian was surprised by how quickly they moved along despite the impediment; just as Singing Cedars had suggested, she dug around for an extra paddle, and put it in the water once they were well clear of the rocks. The other Seneca in the canoes around them chuckled in amusement; she fought a scowl and started paddling, cutting the oar through the water on her right side. She saw how the others alternated sides, so moved to her left; yet that proved to be quite awkward, so she returned to the right. It seemed easy enough at first, but after fifty or so strokes, her arms were starting to ache; still, she stubbornly kept at it, not wanting to be proven wrong in public. She had managed a hundred and thirty-two strokes before she finally tossed the paddle down in the canoe, rubbing at her throbbing arms and letting out a frustrated groan. At least when Singing Cedars joined in the amusement all that he did was snicker a little.
"Crap!" Charmian yelled. "How the heck does Francois do that all day--?"
"He was probably practically brought up in a canoe," Singing Cedars said. "What do you expect? I rather got the impression that where you come from, canoeing isn't exactly a top priority to learn."
"Yeah, well...we also don't flavor our rice with MAPLE SUGAR!" Charmian retorted; Singing Cedars, Walks-On-The-Shore, and Tooth all gave her rather curious looks, and she blushed when she realized that they probably didn't eat the same things here. "Never mind."
They paddled the canoes almost all throughout the day, stopping only occasionally whenever Charmian began to squirm; she hated that she was apparently the only one so affected, though Singing Cedars did humor her by accompanying her to land and going off among a separate stand of trees at one point. By evening she was tired just of watching the paddling, but they kept going, even after the sun set and dusk began to set in; she shivered in the growing chill, and blinked a little when Walks-On-The-Shore settled a skin over her shoulders. She blushed a bit, but wrapped it more closely around herself, suppressing a yawn.
Tooth paused in his paddling, cocking his head and listening. "You hear that?" he asked at last; they all fell silent and listened. Charmian frowned when she realized that she could hear a very faint, dull rumble in the air. She could tell that she'd already been hearing it, but the sound was so low, it had been only a subconscious realization.
"What is it...?" she whispered.
"Your wall of water," Tooth said, and began paddling again, though this time he moved toward the bank. "We'll take you to the bend in the river. From there you're on your own. There's a steep rise which I'm betting you can climb up, and I doubt there are many people there. If you run into any trouble, you can just use my name to set them straight."
"Thanks," Charmian said again.
He made the same noncommittal sound as before, and they continued closer to the riverbank, the odd rumbling sound growing vaguely louder as they went. Charmian furrowed her brow and tilted her head to hear it better, but it was so distant that she couldn't be sure what it was. Since when did water or walls rumble?
It had grown quite dark by the time that they reached the bank, a tall promontory arising at their side; the canoes drew up in the shallow water and they had to hop out, careful not to lose their balance. Tooth and the other Seneca stayed in the canoes, watching them as they made their way toward the rise; Charmian and Singing Cedars both glanced back at them, trying to think of something to say, but Tooth merely waved his hand in a shooing gesture and scowled.
"Go on! We have things of our own to tend to and you're keeping us. Just go on and find your wall of water, and try not to get shot in the head!"
Singing Cedars looked a little miffed, but Charmian fought a smile; she could tell from the way that he snorted when he put his paddle in the water again that the lead Seneca wasn't such a bad person. He vaguely reminded her of Ocryx, only not quite as scary and not nearly as big. She did wave at him, and caught the way that he blinked before scowling and shooing her again before turning to the water and pushing off from shore to join the others. She hurried to catch up with Singing Cedars and Walks-On-The-Shore as they started walking up the steep slope rising over the riverbank. Trees clustered all over its side and top, and the dull roaring sound was even more distinct from here.
"You'd better hope Grandmother's story is right," Singing Cedars muttered.
"Even Tooth's heard of her!" Charmian retorted, picking her way rather easily up the slope; climbing was easier than paddling, she guessed. "I wouldn't brush her story off that easily, just yet." She craned her neck to see better. "I wonder how high this thing is and how far it goes."
She found out soon enough, when by total nightfall they were still only perhaps halfway up the rise, and she was beginning to rethink her conclusion that climbing was easier than paddling. "Cr...cripes," she gasped, dragging herself up with the help of saplings. "Th...there's nothing...this high...on the...Island!"
"Is this the furthest you've ever traveled from your home--?" Singing Cedars asked, apparently not nearly as winded as she was.
Charmian could manage only a brief shake of her head. "I...I went west to s-see...the redwoods once...I think that's further than New Y...whatever you call this..." She halted temporarily to suck in several great breaths, then found that she couldn't move anymore, and sagged against a tree. "Crap!! We'll...never make it up there at this rate!!"
The other two caught up and slowed down beside her. "Your problem is you try too much at once," Singing Cedars said with a frown. When she looked up at him he waved his hands. "You nearly left us behind five times over! You walk far too fast, and so you tire out far too fast, rather than going slowly and steadily. Of course you'll never get anywhere at that rate."
Charmian stood trying to catch her breath for a moment or two, then her stare drifted toward the leaf-littered ground. "Slow but steady wins the race..." she murmured; Singing Cedars's frown grew and he tilted his head in puzzlement, but she pushed herself away from the tree again. "I get it," she said, although the look on his face told her that he didn't believe it. "I mean it! I get what you mean. I'll slow down from now on."
He stared at her for a moment, then took a few steps away and up the slope. Charmian put out her foot to follow him, then--"Aak--!!"--toppled over backwards, landing on her behind and sliding downward several feet; it was only Walks-On-The-Shore who saved her from possibly rolling all the way back down to the bottom. They both halted now and glared at her so hard that she felt like scrunching into a tiny ball. At least she would roll down faster.
Singing Cedars glanced briefly at Walks-On-The-Shore, then back at Charmian. He let out a flustered sigh and stepped toward her, getting down on his knee and cupping his hands at his sides. "Go on, hurry up!" he groused.
Charmian furrowed her brow. "Huh...?"
He looked quite irritated, now. "On my back! We don't have all night!"
Charmian huffed. "I'm HARDLY going to let anybody CARRY me there!! I'm not an invalid!"
"You let those manitou-things carry you all the time," Walks-On-The-Shore said.
Charmian bristled. "THAT'S DIFFERENT!"
Even as she said it, she couldn't think of why it was so different; perhaps the mere fact that at least the manitous didn't walk around and talk with her that much had something to do with it. Whatever the case, she didn't have much say in it, seeing as Walks-On-The-Shore had no qualms about picking her up bodily and placing her on the Onondaga's back as she flailed her arms and yelled in protest. When Singing Cedars stood up, she had to hold on or else go tumbling down the slope again; and so when they started walking, her feet cradled in Singing Cedars's palms, she could only glower down at him malevolently and hope that somehow the feeling reached him.
"I'll NEVER forgive you for this," she growled.
Singing Cedars rolled his eyes. "Don't worry! The feeling's mutual!"
She had to grudgingly admit that the rest helped her numb legs somewhat, and she kept her complaints to herself for most of the climb. The roaring noise in the background grew ever closer and louder, until at last, when the ground started to level out a bit, the trees and rocks growing thicker, it was so loud that she had to yell to make herself heard.
"I can walk now, thank you!" she shouted; Singing Cedars halted, pausing for a moment as if not sure of what she'd said, before stooping to let her down. She climbed off of him and winced, shaking the sting out of her legs and taking a few tentative steps forward. "That noise!" she yelled in his face when he looked at her. "What is that?"
"The wall of water!" Singing Cedars yelled back. He waved at her. "There's an overlook not too far up from here! You can see how far the climb is from there!"
Charmian frowned but followed when they started walking again. The trees began to thin a bit and the moon was already gleaming high overhead, making the ground glisten; Charmian's frown grew when she held up her hands and saw that they were glistening as well. It took her a moment to realize that she was damp, and she peered curiously at the mist drifting through the air. It soaked into her clothes until they were practically wet, and she shivered miserably, wishing that she was more used to such conditions. She hated that things like a mere paddle, and a little climb, and a bit of mist were bothering her so much; how spoiled was she on the mainland, anyway?
"Is it THAT much further--?" she had to yell at the top of her lungs; by now the roar was deafening, and her ears rang.
Singing Cedars just gestured for her to keep following, and Walks-On-The-Shore gave her a small shove in the back. She glared at him but kept walking. I guess I'll just have to find out when I find out, she thought peevishly.
The roar was strong and steady now, not even wavering or alternating whatsoever, booming and monotonous. Singing Cedars's step began to slow and she could see mist rising up before him like steam; he halted and waved at her again. "HERE!" he just about screamed. "YOU WANTED TO SEE YOUR WALL OF WATER, DIDN'T YOU?"
Charmian scowled, wanting to tell him that he DIDN'T HAVE TO YELL, before reminding herself that yes, he did. She stomped forward with her fists clenched at her sides.
"THIS STUPID THING BETTER BE WORTH THE TROUBLE!!" she yelled. "WHAT SORT OF WALL OF WATER COULD HOLD ONE OF THE WINDS, ANYWAY--?"
Singing Cedars had to grab hold of her arm, as she walked forward so fast that she nearly went sailing over the ledge that he stood upon. She jerked to a halt and her mouth fell open as the source of the roaring noise and the mist was suddenly revealed, and Charmian stared down in stunned disbelief at the monstrous waterfall crashing into the river impossibly far below.
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