Beyond Belief (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 4) Page 2

  The last thing Attu remembered was someone pulling a warm fur over him.

  “Will you be all right?” Attu asked, hovering over Rika as she fed their daughter. Their son had already fallen asleep after his meal and was nestled on Rika’s lap next to his sister. Rika looked tired, but alert. She seemed in no pain. Attu had waited another day, just to be sure they were all fine, but the men were pestering him to show them the rock man. Still, Attu was reluctant to leave Rika and the pooliks.

  “I’ll stay with you.”

  “No. You need to go. I’ll be fine. Elder Nuka will be here soon to watch them while I sleep. Everyone has been so helpful.” Rika smiled at the snorting noises their daughter was making as she ate. “The other women know how exhausting it is to have one poolik, so everyone is thinking of me, with two.” Rika grinned up at him. “I don’t think I would be getting this much help if I’d just had one.” She motioned with her head to the food all prepared and stacked behind them, ready to heat over the fire, the pile of fresh wetness coverings, and the wood their people had brought.

  “Usually I’m the one helping others,” Rika said. She seemed overwhelmed by the practical help the Clan had showered on her the day before, coming in to see the twins and each leaving something she could use. Women had offered to watch the pooliks while Rika slept, even though most of them had newborns of their own to care for or were ready to deliver any day.

  Attu knew it was more than just Rika having twins. She kept watch over everyone and thought nothing of rising in the night to go to any shelter where someone felt ill. She’d delivered every baby safely so far and was helping each new mother whenever the need arose. But Rika wouldn’t take gifts for doing her healer’s work. Giving to the twins was a way the Clan could say thank you.

  “I’m proud of you for accepting help,” Attu said. “I know it’s not easy for you.”

  “It’s easier when it’s for our son and daughter.” Rika looked down at her pooliks. Love radiated from her. Never had Rika looked more beautiful to Attu than she did now. As Attu stood watching them, the urge to protect his family welled up in his spirit.

  “Go,” Rika said, pretending to scowl. “I don’t need you in my shelter again today, hovering over your sleeping children and getting in my way, looking like a lovesick nuknuk.” She smiled at Attu, but the smile disappeared as she added, “Go, and figure out if that rock man means a threat to us or not.”

  Chapter 2

  After two days of searching—short excursions between fishing and caring for their families—Attu and his hunters found four more rock men, all placed on the tops of hills, alternating on one side and the other of the range.

  “I can’t believe these were so close to us and we didn’t see them before,” Ubantu said as the men stood at the top of one of the nearer hills, looking at the rock men.

  “They show up best when we’re below, on the barren land between the hills, and no one bothered to walk down there until Attu. Not enough game to make it worthwhile,” Rusik said.

  “Each is positioned so when you look up, you see it silhouetted against the sky, like I did when I saw the first one. I think that’s important.”

  “Could they be here for some spiritual reason?” Soantek asked.

  “They might be spiritual territory markers, like the Ravens’ totem poles,” Tingiyok said, “but I don’t feel any power coming from them, do you?” He turned to Attu.

  “None. What do you think, Father?”

  “I thought they might be grave markers, but these hills are too rocky to dig into and we’ve found no rock piles like we made on the Expanse to bury our dead.” Ubantu looked out over the hills, his face thoughtful.

  Rovek placed himself in front of the rock man they’d been examining, imitating its stance, his arms wide. He looked across the land toward where they knew the other rock men were placed. He studied the area as the others pulled out some dried seal strips and squatted out of the wind just below the crest of the hill, eating the tough hunks of meat, softening them with mouthfuls of water before chewing.

  “When we hunted the tuskies,” Rovek began, as if he were thinking aloud, “we had hunters on both sides of them. We came in on one side and drove them over the cliff.” He pointed to a gap between two hills. Each had a rock man at its crest. “Between those two hills, there is a way for game to get through and end up at the river on the other side.” Rovek’s voice grew more certain as he continued. “Hunters wouldn’t want the game to get through that pass because the river and plains are flat and open all the way to the mountains. They’d never catch big animals running on that plain.”

  “I see it now.” Attu pointed north. “If they could keep the animals moving north, they would end up going through the gap between those last two hills and into that small lake. See how the land rises up all around it?”

  “The perfect place to trap whatever it is they’re hunting,” Rusik said.

  “I think the rock men were built so that from the valley between the hills, animals look up and see the outline of a man. A very large fat man!” Rovek said. Attu and the other hunters laughed with Rovek. The rock men were more than twice as wide as a Nuvik, and about a head taller.

  “A panicking animal sees the first rock man and moves away from its one chance of escape onto the plains,” Rovek continued, “right into the hunters’ trap. The other rock men keep it going north between those last two hills. If you don’t have as many men as we had to hunt the tuskies, it must work to use the rock men. They force the game to move into that lake, where it can be killed.”

  Tingiyok joined in. “The lake is shallow quite far out. The tall grassy plants with the long brown tops only grow in water less than thigh deep, and in that lake, the plants grow almost a spear throw from shore.”

  “The boys have to use the skin boats in the lake,” Attu said. “The women want the fluff in the tops of those plants to use inside wetness coverings, but the boys can’t just wade in and get it.”

  “No, they tried and Kossu got stuck in the mud,” Rusik said. “It took Ganik, Chonik, and me to pull him out, and he was only knee deep in the water. The mud was ankle deep and held him like a toothfish.”

  “So the animals get stuck or at least flounder in the mud there, making them easy prey,” Soantek said. “I think Rovek’s right. These rock men are for funneling the game to the lake.”

  “So whoever they are, the people who built the rock men and hunt the animals are clever.” Ubantu looked out over the hills. “If they’re hunting paddle antlers, they’ll be back next spring when the grass greens and the herds move north again.”

  “Could they be the same men you saw in your vision?” Tingiyok asked. Others wondered aloud as well.

  “They could return sooner, then,” Ubantu said, looking to Attu.

  As realization hit him, Attu felt the blood leave his face. Ubantu caught his eye and nodded, his own face etched with worry.

  “What is it?” Rovek asked.

  “Children. Rika said ‘children’ in the vision. I thought that meant we had more time, at least this winter. But now that she’s had twins...” Attu let his words fade as he saw the others’ dawning comprehension.

  “One good snowfall,” Tingiyok said. “That’s all the attackers need.”

  The nights were growing long and becoming a time of conversation by the fire like they’d been on the Expanse around the nuknuk lamps. Usually, the women came and went as needed, gathering around the flames, chatting among themselves as they fed pooliks and changed wetness coverings. But tonight everyone was quiet, tense.

  “Those hunters might not come at all,” Rusik said. “The rock men have been on the hills for a long time. The animals might have changed their route north. Tuskies do. The hunters would follow them.”

  “But what if the people who built those rock men don’t follow the animals in the winter? What if they roam large areas with those bear-like animals pulling sleds, like Attu saw in his vision?” Rovek asked. “The rock
men builders could also be the ones who attack us, couldn’t they?”

  “Whether the people who built the rock men are the ones who will attack us or not, now that we’ve realized the attack could come this winter, we don’t have much time,” Rusik said. “What do we need to do to get ready?”

  The men started talking at once, their women joining in. One of the men started shouting at another, but his woman cut him off.

  “Don’t wake the sleeping pooliks,” she hissed at him.

  The others grew quiet.

  Attu stood. Those gathered looked his way as Attu held out his hands, then sat again, crossing his legs and looking toward the others. They rearranged themselves to begin the discussion.

  Ubantu put his hand out to speak. “We need to explore the caves that the Nukeena found when they came to the bay the first time.”

  Soantek nodded.

  “And we need to get them supplied with food, water, and furs,” one of the women said after Attu acknowledged her signal to speak.

  “It could snow soon,” Tingiyok added.

  “Or it could be another moon or so,” Rusik said, trying to sound hopeful.

  Keanu sat beside Attu. “I’ll begin flying daily again. Starting tomorrow.” Keanu assured him. “No one will sneak up on us.”

  The rest of the evening was spent with the women making plans to outfit the caves with everything necessary for a prolonged stay, and the men planning how best to defend the women and children once they were hidden.

  “We’ll start preparing at first light,” Attu said. All around him, most of his people nodded their approval. Attu saw that Veshria was scowling and appeared to be arguing with Rusik. “I don’t believe him,” she said. She looked up and saw Attu watching her. Veshria turned away and dropped her voice. Another woman joined them and then another hunter. Rusik kept glancing toward Attu when he thought Attu wasn’t looking.

  Attu wrapped his fur around himself, feeling suddenly chilled. He knew that some of his people didn’t believe his vision would come true. No matter how many times Attu and others with Gifts had Seen true, some just couldn’t believe them. There would be much to do in preparing the caves, on top of the already increased hunting and caregiving of the pooliks. They would see it as unnecessary work.

  Rika sat beside him, handing him his son and cradling his daughter in her lap. “I get so angry when Veshria stirs up trouble. She’s just like Moolnik was.”

  “Some of our people agree with her,” Attu said. “But that won’t stop us from getting ready, anyway.” Attu pulled the soft furs more closely around his son. “When most of us start stocking the caves, those few will join in. They won’t risk their lives on being right.”

  Attu dreamed that night about small bears with long curling tails, pulling men on sleds through the snow toward their shelters. Dread filled him as he mind spoke to Rika in his dream. Gather everyone and flee to the caves.

  But this time, Rika didn’t answer him, didn’t tell him she would keep their children safe. Instead, all he heard was a lonely wind rustling through the pine trees. He called in his mind. He shouted aloud. But no one answered. Instead, his voice became the wind, mindlessly blowing through the trees and warning no one.

  “I didn’t realize the caves were this extensive,” Attu said as the men marked the various openings and places large enough for people to gather.

  “We need to keep torches just inside each entrance,” Suka said.

  The caves were dry, and the walls were hard stone, grey in the light of the torches. It was cool inside, but not nearly as cold as outside. The walls sloped in sharply when they reached about twice the height of a snow house, and the larger open areas were bigger than a group snow house. The caves should have felt spacious, yet Attu felt his chest tightening as he walked deeper into them.

  “We need to build fire circles of stone where we know the smoke can get through those small holes.” Ubantu pointed to one of the areas where some light was making its way down to the floor through the rocks above. “And we need to build test fires to make sure we won’t be smoked out.”

  “And to make sure the smoke can’t be seen easily from outside,” Mantouk added.

  They continued marking. “Block off this tunnel,” Tingiyok said, returning from his exploration of a side passage. “It goes into a maze of openings that I couldn’t find an end to. It’s a good thing I kept track of my turnings as I went.”

  Rovek moved some loose rocks across the opening and placed a stick with a marker on it, much as they’d done on the Expanse to show thin ice.

  “So we use the south-facing entrance to move everything in and leave the other entrances hidden.” Attu turned to leave. “Suka, you’re the best at it. Take some men next day and disguise the other entrances so you have to know just where they are to see them. We need to do that before it snows.”

  They stepped out into the daylight again. “I hope we don’t have to stay in them long,” Ubantu said. “Or better yet, I hope by the spirits we don’t need to use them at all.” He took in a deep breath. Attu thought he looked a bit queasy.

  Attu flashed his father a look of understanding.

  “But I’m glad they’re here,” Ubantu added. “If the strangers try to come in after us, they’ll only be able to come in one at a time, and we can kill each one as he enters.”

  “I’ll make sure we have plenty of weapons stored near the entrance.” Attu walked back to camp with the other men as they made plans to cut more torches and have another group head back to do the test fires the next day.

  Chapter 3

  “It’s so warm.” Tingiyok pulled off his over shirt and tied it around his waist. He’d already taken his parka off and wrapped it in his pack.

  Attu was only wearing his sleeveless under-vest, and he was still sweating in his foot miks. He jabbed at a stone with his spear. “I was so sure the ice would be hard by now.” He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked out over the bay.

  They’d prepared the caves as best they could in case snow came suddenly, but then the weather had changed. It went from freezing to mild, and the women had been forced to remove the small amount of fresh meat they’d been able to store in the caves. Only dried meat and berries had been left behind for food, along with water pouches and old furs for warmth. The men had stored extra weapons and a lot of stacked wood throughout their hiding place. Their preparations as complete as they could make them, it was time to hunt again.

  Attu was glad it had grown warm because warmth meant no snow, so no strangers attacking, but it was also making their hunting difficult. “And it doesn’t help to see all those nuknuks floating on ice chunks, sunning themselves as if it were the middle of summer,” Ubantu said.

  “I had no idea that a warm wind could break up ice so quickly.” Attu pointed out over the expanse of open water. “And the large chunks of ice left are moving with it. I wouldn’t want to be caught between those in a skin boat.”

  Attu shuddered as he remembered how larger chunks of ice had struck the one he’d been stranded on with Rika, Elder Nuanu, and Moolnik. It had been a miracle of Attuanin that the giant whale fish had propelled them to the shore with a great flap of its tail before the ice they’d been trapped on had crumbled to pieces.

  The hunters walked back toward camp. “I’ve never been out among ice chunks,” Ubantu said, “but if this weather keeps up, I think we’ll need to try to take nuknuks by skin boat.”

  “I think we can do it, if we’re careful,” Tingiyok said. “But it will be tricky. Nuknuks are so much bigger than seals.”

  “I’d feel a lot better about hunting them on solid ice, that’s for sure,” Ubantu said.

  “But with all these mouths to feed, we need more than fish,” Attu said, “and almost all the seals left when the nuknuks came.” He took in a deep breath before speaking the truth of his own fear. “We should be able to maneuver around the ice chunks without them hitting us, but I think it will be dangerous. I’m afraid to try it.”


  “I, for one, am looking forward to it.” Tingiyok smiled at them all. “Even though I, too, am afraid.”

  One of the other hunters looked to Tingiyok and Attu in disgust.

  Tingiyok stared at the man until he looked away.

  Ubantu nodded at Tingiyok, Attu, and the others. “No one can maneuver a boat as well as Tingiyok. If he is afraid, then it is wise for us all to be.” He looked at the disgusted hunter, who dropped his eyes. “We will go if we must. We are strong Nuvik hunters. We will face our fear, and we will be successful.”

  Attu let his father see the gratitude in his eyes.

  Attu sat in their shelter, holding his son while his daughter slept. The poolik was wide-awake, wiggling and looking first this way then that.

  “I bring no evil,” Tingiyok called.

  “Come in, have a seat,” Rika answered and moved to the door flap before Attu could stand.

  Tingiyok sat in the place for visitors, farthest from the door, as the warm wind whistled around the shelter. He reached for Attu’s son, and Attu handed the squirming poolik over to the Elder. Tingiyok gazed at the poolik, who had grabbed the Elder’s finger. “He’s a strong one.” Tingiyok grinned at the little one, his mouth wide, his few teeth gleaming in the light of the small fire. Attu’s son looked back at Tingiyok, fascinated.

  “He likes you,” Rika said.

  “I sense it,” Tingiyok said. “It’s strange to listen to all these pooliks’ minds. No words, fuzzy images, much emotion. And they’re all as loud as you were with your thoughts, Attu, after you flew with the falcon in the dream, but before you learned to hold your increased power in your mind.”

  Attu’s face burned, but he said nothing. He knew Tingiyok’s words were true.

  “It helps me so much,” Rika said. “I can tell which poolik is stirring by their thoughts, and I’m learning to understand their jumble of emotions and mind images. I often know what my son or daughter wants before they cry to get it.”

  “But when they cry-” Attu began.