Icebound

Chapter 19

Anyu quickly came to regret destroying Tavra's sleigh; she couldn't deny that it would have been extremely useful on their journey. They moved on from the sinkhole-infested area at a slow pace in order to let Shesh recover. Anyu wished that they could stop and let him truly rest, but they couldn't afford to lose the time or distance. If what Tavra said about the indweller who'd attacked him was true, then they had to keep going.

Tavra seemed to be perfectly content padding away in his wolf form, often outpacing the others and then running back to urge them to go faster. Without Shesh, Kano and Anyu were left to walking on their own two legs. The snow crunched loudly under their shoes. Anyu's feet were already calloused and her boots were holding out well enough but she still felt the unavoidable fatigue worm its way into her muscles and mind.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Anyu asked with an arched brow after they had put a solid stretch between them and the lichen circles. The sun had reached its zenith in the sky, making the snow blaze and sparkle like a blinding flash of lightning. Anyu couldn't even look straight ahead with squinting.

Kano snorted derisively. "No," He said firmly. He narrowed his eyes at Tavra, who had trotted up to Anyu's other side. Even as a canine, his expression was mocking. His form slowly shifted until he was a boy once again, walking on two legs. It still gave Anyu a little start to see him transform like that, but she supposed she'd get used to it eventually.

"Don't believe anything he says. He's a chronic liar," Tavra said conspiratorially. "Although I suppose there's a grain of truth in there; Sakari was actually his fiancé." He seemed unable to help snickering to himself at the statement.

Anyu glanced back at Kano with renewed curiosity. It was true that he was old enough to be married, probably even a couple years older than the normal age for men in Anyu's village. Somehow she'd just assumed that he was unmarried, although she knew that it was most likely a misguided assumption. Among the Nenet, any who chose to remain unwed were regarded coldly by the rest of the tribe. After all, they were basically choosing to forever be a burden on their families rather than provide for themselves.

Anyu herself should have been married years ago. At seventeen she was almost an old maid. It had been only her little brother and her grandmother who had bought her a few more years of freedom. As Anik's sole guardian and provider, she was begrudgingly permitted to care for him until he married someone. Her grandmother's influence as the tribe shaman was the only reason the other elders had allowed such a thing. Anyu accepted her responsibility to the tribe, and when the time came she would fulfill her duty, but she couldn't help dreading marriage. Women were only allowed to hunt and fight until they found a husband. After that, they were expected to forget their days as warriors and devote their lives to caring for the home and their children.

It was an important job, just as vital to the tribe's survival as the men's work. But any time Anyu tried to picture herself in that life she felt sick to her stomach. She knew she wouldn't last long before she went insane.

She remembered what her mother had whispered to her about Nama, a well-respected woman in the village, when she was little. The mother of a gaggle of fur clad children, Nama had more difficulty than most because she only had one arm. Anyu recalled her as a gruff, severe woman who never let her children play outside after supper, even when it was bright as daylight out. Anyu's mother had explained that when Nama was young, she'd been one of the tribe's greatest warriors. She'd lost her arm in single combat against an Amur tiger and won, returning with the beast's skin- the very same skin that formed the shaman's ceremonial robes. Anyu had looked at Nama in a different light after that.

"If she loves you, maybe she's not chasing us to kill us," Anyu suggested, peering at Kano out of the corner of her eye.

He shuddered as if that was a horrible thought to entertain. "The only thing Sakari loves is blood. And I'm sure she 's all too eager to spill mine." Somewhat reluctantly, he explained further. "Siku only arranged our marriage to connect me to her through her granddaughter. There was no love involved, although I'm sure Sakari's humiliation is much worse for her than any romantic rejection could be."

Anyu felt gratified by his answer, and she relaxed shoulders that had been unconsciously tensed. Even that information only seemed to open the door to more questions.

"Granddaughter?" Anyu asked, somewhat taken aback. In her head she had always pictured Siku as a beautiful, entrancing woman, perhaps not young but not old either. Now the picture suddenly turned into a wicked old hag with long white hair and a wrinkled face.

Tavra was the one to answer this time. "She's been alive for a long time but she's not old," He replied. "She's one of the ancients, and all of them age weird."

Anyu pursed her lips and reached up to grip her necklace. The more she heard about Siku, the more anxious she was to finally meet her. She was a supreme ruler, ancient spirit, and grandmother all at once. Despite herself, Anyu couldn't help feeling a twinge of admiration, even jealousy, for such a woman. No one in Anyu's tribe would ever believe her if she'd told them that a woman ruled this land. If the elders ever saw her power, they'd have to admit that women were strong and let Anyu keep hunting. Then again, Siku was an evil ruler. A woman growing too powerful and being corrupted would only play right back into their narrative. It made Anyu all the more angry at her, for spoiling her opportunity to prove the Nenet wrong.

Her hands felt warmer and she lightly pinched her ears to try to get some more feeling back in them. The wind whistled past, sounding for all the world like a woman's breathy sigh. She tried to imagine that it was whispering words of encouragement to goad her onwards, but she only heard hollow wails of despair. Anyu renewed her pace and prayed that it wasn't an omen of what was to come.