"We could," she offered. He answered with a short bark of a laugh.
"What? And eat rock? Drink our own tears? Watch our little ones warped and changed by the magic gone wild and twisted in this place?" He laughed again, but the pain in his laughter tore at her heart. "Is that all you can offer me, shaman of the Hawk?" He continued to laugh, but it was becoming wild and hysterical.
She silenced him with a single, open-handed slap. He stared at her-for in all her life, she had never once raised her hand to anyone, Clansman or not. She had been known as one of the softest and gentlest women in all the Clans-certainly among the shamans.
But the past days had hardened and toughened her; and the days to come would only mean more of the same. This she knew, though she was no Seer.
"You told me when you urged that we forsake magic, that we must trust in the Powers for our protection. Are you telling me now that you no longer believe that?" She let the acid of her words drip into the raw wound of his soul without mercy. "If that is true, then perhaps I should take my beasts and ride out after my Sundered brothers!"
"I-" his mouth worked for a moment, before he could produce any words.
"I believe that... but... "
"But what?" Ravenwing looked down her long nose at him, from beneath half-closed lids. "But you do not believe they would answer if we called on them? Or is it that you are not willing to pay the price they might put on our aiding?"
"Would they answer?" he asked, hope springing into his eyes. "Have YOU done a Seeking, shaman of the Hawk?" She nodded, slowly. "I have done a Seeking and a Calling, and I have been answered. But the price of their aid will be in blood.
He took a deep breath. "whose?"
"the Elders of each Clan that is left," she replied with authority. "Yours, and the other three." She watched his face change as her words struck him. It was not an easy decision that he was being asked to make. He was a relatively young man; as yet unmated, with all of his life before him. And that was part-and no small part-of the sacrifice. Yet when he had taken the Oath of the Elder, he had pledged just this thing; to lay down his life for his people at need.
But he had, no doubt, thought if it came to that, it would be in the heat of battle-not the cold loneliness of self-sacrifice.
His eyes widened in a glazed shock, turned inward, then focused on hers again. She nodded as she saw his attention return to her.
"It is not an easy question," she said quietly. "Your three brother and sister Elders are being posed the same question even now. We do not expect you to answer at once-but it must be soon. the People, as you pointed out, cannot remain here long." '"And if I decline this-honor?" he asked, with a touch of painful irony.
"then I spill my blood in place of yours," she replied steadily, having faced this possibility herself, and made her own decision. "It must be one or the other of us."
"Leaving Hawk without a shaman.
She shrugged. "It must be one or the other of us. that is the Price the Calling named. We four chief shaman have spoken, and agreed. All of the apprentices have promise, but none is fit or trained to function on his own. If any of the chiefs must go, that Clan must live without a shaman until an apprentice is ready." She stepped away from him, and turned to go. "I will leave you to think on this. Come to me by moonrise with your decision.
He touched her shoulder as she turned away, stopping her.
"I do not need until moonrise," he said, in a tone that made her heart usore. "It is not all that difficult a choice to make,, after all." He smiled, a smile sweet and without fear, and she held back her tears.
"When will you require me?" he asked.
It had taken a full moon for the Clans to position themselves about the glassy crater that had been their homeland, one to each prime direction. It had been hardest for Cat Clan; they had to make the half-circle around the rim to position themselves in the West.
At sunset-in whatever manner they chose-the four Elders gave themselves for their people. Silverhorse had simply stepped off the top of the ridge, vanishing into the darkness of the crater without even a sigh. Now Ravenwing stood above the place he had fallen, her arms spread to the sky, calling on the Powers with every fiber. Behind her in a rough half-circle stood the rest Of the Clan, from the infants in arms to the oldest grandsire, adding their prayers to hers.
And with the moon, She came.
Her face changed, moment to moment, from Maid to Crone, from stern Warrior to nurturing Mother, and back again. She filled the sky, and yet She stood before Ravenwing and stared deeply and directly into the shaman's eyes.
She spoke, and Her voice filled Ravenwing's ears and mind so completely that there was room for nothing but the experience.
"I have heard your prayers," She said, gravely, "as I have heard the prayers of your Sundered brothers. There was a price to be paid for what they asked, and there is a price to be paid for what you ask."
"In blood?" asked a quiet voice, which Ravenwing recognized as that of Azurestar, shaman of Cat Clan. A tiny bit of her was left to wonder that she could hear the voice as clearly as if Azurestar stood beside her.
She shook Her head. "Not in blood-in your lives, all of you. I shall give you back your homeland, but the price is vigilance." She held out Her hand, and cupped within it was the crater. In the center of the crater, and scattered about it, beneath the slag and fused stone, were shapeless things that glowed an evil green.
"Three things destroyed the homeland," She said gravely. "the destructive spell of an enemy, the self-destruction of the Gate that you fled through, and the Final Strike of your master Urtho's death by his Champion, meant to remove his enemy as he himself died. Yet despite all this, there are many weapons of Urtho's making that still remain and could be used, buried beneath the slag and rubble. There are weapons there that are too dangerous even for those with good intentions to hold. But you have forsworn magic for all time-they will be no temptation to you." Ravenwing nodded, and felt the agreement of the rest.
"Here, then, is the price. You must guard your new land, which you shall call the Dhorisha Shin'a-the Plains of Sacrifice, and yourselves the Shin'a'in-the People of the Plains. You must keep strangers out at all cost, unless they pledge themselves into the Clans, or are allies that you, the shamans, must call on Me to judge. Those will be marked in ways that you will recognize. You will never swear to any overlord again, but will remain always sworn only to each other and to the Powers. You have forsworn magic, and you must keep that vow. Any of your children that are born with Mage-Gift, you must either send to your Sundered brothers, bring into the craft of the shaman, or permit the shaman to block the Gift for all time." It was a sacrifice indeed; of freedom, and to a small extent, of free will-and not just for them, but for all generations. They would swear to an endless service, an endless guardianship.
But the gain was their home.
She felt the assent of her people, and added her own to it. the Goddess smiled. "It is well," She said, and spread out Her hands, stepped down into the crater, and began to walk. where Her feet touched, a carpet of flowers, grass, and trees sprang up, and spread, flowing over the ruined earth like a green flood, as She walked westward...Kra'heera blinked, and smiled faintly. He had forgotten how powerful the memories knotted into this weaving were. Ravenwing had been a formidable, strong-minded woman, and had managed to weave in not only the memories, but the emotions she had felt at the time.