The First Artist was a Woman with No Name

The Bargain

The Woman turned around to find him curled on the ground. In the time that she spoke to these two spirits, he had lost consciousness. Now, she could see a small trickle of blood leaking from his ear. She did what she could to patch him up, but she was limited on medicinal plants. It was all she could do to not go searching for something more to help him.

As the Woman propped Ngobi up on a nearby rock, she felt a pair of eyes watching her. The early light of the rising sun made it a little easier to observe her surroundings. A quick glance revealed nothing out of the ordinary, but goosebumps still broke out along her arms, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

A slower sweep of the clearing revealed what the Woman had missed the first time. Barely visible in the young dawn and brown grass, an antelope watched the pair from the far end of the clearing. It had tan fur with a stripe of white fur running down from between its eyes to its mouth, interrupted by a black nose. Two twisted horns rose from its head and its beady, dark brown eyes seemed to be staring straight at them. The Woman felt herself relax a little. At least it wasn't a lion who was stalking them in the early morning. But there was something strange about the creature's eyes.

The antelope raised its head. And it kept rising, taller and taller than any normal antelope. It breached the top of the grass, revealing dark skin studded with muscles. Finally, it stopped, reaching its full height. The Woman knew who he was, remembered him in the smoke of the bonfire so long ago. I'tepah was over seven feet tall, not including his two-foot-long horns. The Woman briefly wondered how a spirit of that size was able to fit into the body of an antelope, but she didn't dwell on it long. The powers of the spirits could hardly be understood, let alone explained.

I'tepah walked toward her slowly, never breaking eye contact. Fear radiated from the spirit, making the Woman's legs go numb. Even if she was able to run away, she couldn't leave Ngobi behind. Also, despite the spirit's massive size, she had no doubt that he was fast and would easily be able to catch her.

Fighting the numbness of her legs, the Woman stood and faced the creature. He stopped almost right in front of her, so she had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. The early morning sun was turning his fur golden and little puffs of steam were coming out of his nose.

"So," he said, "you are the little human who thinks they can bargain with me." His voice rumbled deep and low. The Woman could feel the vibrations through her feet, as if he were shaking the very center of the world with each word. "Ganna and Bawa told me what happened, but I just had to see it for myself. I am not impressed."

The feeling was mutual, but the Woman wasn't going to say as much. However, the lack of respect would make the bargain difficult. If I'tepah thought he held all the cards, what could the Woman possibly give him in exchange for her tribe? It wouldn't be like talking to Ganna and Bawa, who were much younger. I'tepah was in charge; his view of humans, and the lengths he would go to exact any measure of revenge, were clear.

Great spirit, the Woman signed. Hopefully flattery would work, or at least soften him up a little. I ask that you release my tribe with your awe-inspiring power. The hard lines around I'tepah's eyes smoothed out and he somehow managed a smug look on his antelope face. Flattery did work, even though the Woman's hands shook with barely contained rage as she communicated with him.

I'tepah smiled, revealing short, flat teeth. "You are right, little human, my power is awe- inspiring. But I fail to see why I should release your tribe because of it. If anything, my claim is strengthened by this admission. The strong survive, the weak do not. Such is the way of nature, the balance of the world."

Yes, that's why your mortal form was killed, the Woman thought. She maintained her composure, not letting her temper flair, though it was difficult to in the face of such powerful ignorance. I'tepah and the other spirits would not have been freed if it wasn't for the power in human blood. He did nothing but die at the right time. Meanwhile, humans were able to push the sky back with the power within them. She doubted I'tepah could say the same.

The Woman was frantically trying to put together a plan. She could not delay for long without the spirit losing interest and deciding to kill everyone with a snap of his fingers. Bits of information flew around her mind: her conversation with Ganna and Bawa, her discovery of painting, stories her mother told her, the strength of her blood and her resistance to magic. It had to mean something.

"At a loss for words, human?" I'tepah said. His stance was casual, but the Woman could feel power radiating off him. Ngobi cringed in his unconscious state but did not wake.

I'tepah furrowed his brows. Ngobi screamed but the Woman still felt nothing. Whatever had protected her from Bawa and Ganna's powers was still protecting her.

Through it all, she felt a pair of eyes watching her. She quickly took inventory of the clearing, wondering if she had missed another animal or one of the girls in her initial glance, but there was no one. Nothing had changed.

Finally, I'tepah gave up. Whatever power he was using stopped, as did Ngobi's screams. I'tepah looked furious, his antelope eyes were bloodshot, and his chest was rapidly rising and falling, as if he ran the length of the grassland rather than standing still. Yet, he still took the opportunity to smile his malicious smile, baring all his teeth as if he was looking forward to eating her.

"You intrigue me, Woman," he said. It did not sound like a compliment. "I will give you a chance to bargain. What could you possibly trade in exchange for your tribe?"

Sacrifice. The word flew from the Woman's fingers before she had a chance to think about it. It caught his attention, though, and seemingly the attention of the whole world. The wind rustling the grass stopped, like it was holding its breath, waiting to hear what the Woman would say. The sun paused it its ascent, half hidden below the horizon. There were no sounds from the animals of the savannah; no birds calling, insects buzzing, or footfalls of larger animals.

Sacrifice, the Woman said again, with more confidence this time. In my blood resides the power to resist your magic. That resistance is power in itself. And who knows of the power in blood of others of my tribe. My people's stories of power are plentiful. Once a moon, my tribe will pay homage to the animals we have hunted and killed, offering blood to the spirits to prevent this from happening again.

The Woman held her breath with the rest of the world as I'tepah considered her offer. If her mother's stories were to be believed, there was great power within humans that not even the spirits could achieve. An entirely different magic from that of the spirits. Who knows what would happen when the two merged.

I'tepah paced the perimeter of the clearing, eyes never leaving the Woman. He finally stopped.

"You managed to offer something when you had nothing," I'tepah said. "I am almost impressed. Almost, except for one thing." His eyes narrowed and the Woman saw the muscles in his legs flex. "Nothing is stopping me from killing you now."

The Woman could feel sweat bead on her forehead, but she didn't dare wipe it away or take her eyes from the spirit in front of her. She wasn't sure how far whatever magical protection she had would last. Didn't know what else I'tepah was capable of. But she couldn't let her uncertainty show.

Steeling her nerves, she relaxed her shoulders and tried out a casual stance. It felt awkward, but dying would feel a lot worse if she didn't pull this off. You must have forgotten, the Woman signed. I am immune to your magic. Now, I demand the release of my tribe.

Again, the creepy antelope smile spread across I'tepah's face. "Who said anything about magic?"