However, there was no dark line of trees. This land was far more open, though here and there were the same mounds of rubble that had marked the island. It was plain that this city had been a place of great extent, its buildings spreading also to the mainland.
“Let us find some shelter quickly.” Fanyi’s voice held a note of strain. “I cannot say how far I can now go or how long I can keep my feet.”
He was grateful to her at that moment, he did not know how much longer he could keep going either. Yet some inner pride kept him from making the same confession.
In the end they both hooked a hand in the ropes that held Rhin’s burden, so that the koyot was more than half supporting them as they reeled into a fairly open space, a hollow where some bushes had rooted.
Snow had fallen here and still lay in small patches, reflecting the moonlight. But the punishing wind had died, and the night was very still. Sander shivered. His fingers were stiff and numb as he fumbled with the knots that fastened their gear, letting it thud to earth. Out from behind one of the hillocks that marked the ruins flashed the fishers. Kai carried a limp body in his mouth, dropping his burden at Fanyi’s feet. He had brought in a very large hare.
Rhin, now bare of back, sniffed once at the game, made a low sound in his throat, and trotted off purposefully, intent, Sander knew, on providing his own food. The smith studied this hollow they had chanced upon. At least two of the rubble hills stood between them and the arm of the sea-desert. They could not spend the night without warmth and food.
He knelt to hack at a wiry bush. The dry and sapless growth broke easily under his touch. Moments later he had a small fire ablaze and was able to turn his full attention to skinning and gutting the hare.
8
For two days they kept to the campsite. There was no threat here of any of the dangers they had met elsewhere, no sign that the monstrosity from the old island had its kin here. Sander went hunting, using his sling to knock over hares and a stunted-looking kind of deer that was smaller than even Kayi. These animals were so bold that Sander believed they had never been hunted—a further proof this land was safe for the wayfarers.
The days grew colder, their nights were spent between fitful dozing and care of their fire. Snow fell again, not heavily, but enough to cover the ground. Sander disliked the fact that their tracks to and away from their camp were so well marked across that white expanse. He tried every dodge known to disguise these, only to admit that he was unsuccessful.
There was no way of adequately curing the hare skins. But they scraped them as clean as they could, then lashed the pelts together in a bundle. Sander already knew that their clothing was not heavy enough for this climate, so they might soon be reduced to using those hides, smelly and unworked as the pelts were, for additional warmth.
Fanyi sat for long spaces of time, the pendant clasped tight in her hands, so entranced that she was little aware of what was going on about her. Twice she reported that she had again encountered what she persisted in calling the “seeking mind.” Neither time, she was sure, had that thought carried awareness of her. Nor was there, to her infinite disappointment, any way of her tracing it to the source. Which was just as well as far as Sander was concerned. He mistrusted her accounts of what he still could not accept as possible.
During his hunting he also prospected for metal. But if anything useful had remained here after the Dark Time, it must have been mined long ago by Traders. He did come upon holes recent enough to suggest that they had not been made during the catastrophe which had changed the world, but were due to burrowings since that time.
The sheer size of this expanse of debris-strewn wilderness was amazing. How many Before Men had lived here? Far greater numbers surely than any Mob could count. Sander had followed Rhin to the bank of another river, this one half-choked with fallen stone, which must wind to the now distant sea on the other side of the raised island.
Man and animal were both wary of the water. Rhin stood guard while Sander filled the water bag. So far, however, Sander had neither heard nor seen any evidence of amphibians. There were some fish—he took one with an improvised pole and line—a long narrow creature that startled him with its likeness to a snake and that he quickly loosed again, knowing he could not stomach its clammy flesh.
It was near the river that he found the head. Not the head or skull of any creature that had lived, rather one wrought in stone. Big as his two fists balled together, it was clearly very old, the neck being broken raggedly across. And it was the head of a bird, with a fierce proud look about it that somehow attracted him.
He brought it back to show to Fanyi. She turned the carving around in her hands, examining it closely.
“This,” she pronounced firmly, “was an emblem of power or chieftainship. It is a good omen that you have found it.”
Sander half laughed. “I do not deal in omens, Shaman. That is not the way of my people. But this is a thing that was well made. If it had a special meaning for him who wrought it, then I can understand why he dealt so well in its fashioning—”
She might not have heard him; that withdrawn look had returned.
“There was a great building,” she said. “Very tall—very, very tall. And this was part of a whole bird with outspread wings. Above the door was that bird set—and—” Fanyi let the lump of stone fall to the ground, rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes as if to push something away. “It had a meaning,” she repeated. “It was the totem of a great people and a far stretching land.”
“This land?” Sander glanced around the heaped mounds. “Well, if it were such a totem, then its power failed them in the end.”
Slowly Fanyi reached forth a hand once more and touched the broken-off head. “All totems failed in the Dark Time, smith. For the land and sea, wind and fire turned against man. And what can totems do to stand against the death of a whole world?”
She took up the head once again and set it on a stone, wedging it upright with smaller pebbles. After she had made it secure Fanyi bowed her head.
“Totem of the dead,” she said softly, “we pay you honor again. If there lingers any of your power to summon, may you lend us that. For we are the blood of men, and men fashioned you as a symbol to abide in protection above their strong places.” Her hands moved in gestures Sander did not understand.
Let Fanyi deal with unseen powers and totems; he was much more interested in the here and now. Yet looking upon his find, Sander thought that he would like to wrap it in clay and bake from it a mold into which he could run easily worked copper, to fashion a symbol tied with the past. But the head was too heavy to carry with them now. It was far better he cling to the scraps of metal he had found in the wreckage of the ship.
He grew impatient. They had rested here long enough and gained their needed supplies, for he had dried some of the meat in the smoke of the fire. To remain longer brought them nothing.
“Your guide—that thing you wear,” he said to the girl. “Where does it point now?”
Again she turned her head to northwest. But to go in that direction meant trailing through more remains of the city. He would have felt freer and more at ease had they headed straight west where he guessed these graveplaces of Before Men’s holdings might dwindle away.
Sander, in spite of his impatience, allowed two more days to add to their supplies. The weather was clear but colder each morning. However, there were no more such storms as had struck at them earlier. Finally, on the fifth morning after their winning to what had been the old shore line, they started off. Above, the sun was bright as it climbed, giving a welcome warmth.
As usual the two fishers slipped away and were soon hidden from view by the mounds and walls of rubble, leaving here or there a pawprint to mark their going. But Rhin was content to accompany Sander and the girl.