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what's causing this."
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Chapter FOUR
The Mage's apprentice took an auroch-horn ladle and scooped hot ash from the fire. She poured it, still smoking, into her naked palm. Torak gasped.
The apprentice didn't even wince.
At her feet, Oslak clawed the dust, but the bindings held fast. He was strapped to a horse-hide litter, awaiting the final charm. Bera had already undergone it, and was back in the sickness shelter: screaming, sicker than ever.
    The Raven Mage and her apprentice had tried everything. The Mage had daubed the sick ones'
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tongues with earthblood to draw out the madness. She had tied fishhooks to her fingers and gone into a trance to snare their drifting souls. She'd shrouded them in juniper smoke to chase away the worms of sickness. Nothing had worked.
     
Now a hush fell on the Ravens as she prepared for this final charm. Firelight flickered on their anxious faces.
     
It was a hot, clear night, with a gibbous moon riding high above the Forest. The wind had dropped, but the air was full of noises. The creak of the smoking-racks. The caws of the ravens in the gorge. The roar of the rapids.
    The Mage stepped toward the litter, her bony arms reaching to the moon. In one hand she gripped her amulet; in the other, a red flint arrow. Torak darted a glance at the Mage's apprentice, but her face was a blank mask of river clay. She didn't look like Renn anymore.
"Fire to cleanse the name-soul,
" chanted Saeunn, circling the litter.
Renn squatted beside Oslak and trickled hot ash onto his naked feet. He moaned, and bit his lips till they bled.
"Fire to cleanse the clan-soul.
..."
Renn poured ash over his heart.
"Fire to cleanse the world-soul.
..."
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Renn smeared ash on his forehead.
"Burn, sickness, burn.
..."
Oslak screamed with fury, and spattered the Mage with bloody foam.
A ripple of dismay ran through the clan. The charm wasn't working.
Torak held his breath. Behind him the Forest stilled. Even the alders had ceased their fluttering to await the outcome.
He watched Saeunn touch the arrow to Oslak's chest, tracing a spiral.
"Come, sickness,"
she croaked.
"Out of the marrow
-
into the bone. Out of the bone
-
into the flesh...."
Suddenly Torak clutched his belly in pain. As the Mage chanted the words, something sharp had twisted inside him.
Slowly she drew the spiral over Oslak's heart.
"Out of the flesh
-
into the skin. Out of the skin
-
into the arrow.
..."
Again that pain, as if her words were tugging at his insides ... Is this the sickness? he thought. Is this how it starts?
A firm hand gripped his shoulder. Fin-Kedinn stood beside him, watching the Mage.
"Out of the arrow
--" cried Saeunn, rising to her feet,
"and into the fire!"
She plunged the arrow into the embers.
Green flames shot skyward.
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Oslak screamed.
The Ravens hissed.
Saeunn's arms dropped to her sides.
The spell had failed.
Torak clutched his belly and fought waves of blackness.
Suddenly, a dark shape flew into the firelight. It was the clan guardian, heading straight for him. He tried to duck, but Fin-Kedinn held him steady. Just in time, the raven swerved. It was angry: its clan was under attack. Torak had no idea why it had flown at him.
    He tried to catch Renn's eye, but she was kneeling by Oslak, peering at the marks he'd clawed in the dust.
Twisting out of Fin-Kedinn's grip, Torak ran-- between the watchers, out of the camp, and into the Forest.
He reached a moonlit glade and collapsed against an ash tree. The giddiness came again. He doubled up and began to retch.
An owl hooted.
Torak raised his head and stared at the cold stars glinting through the black leaves of the ash tree. He slid to the ground with his head in his hands. The dizziness had subsided, but he was still shaking. He felt frightened and alone. He couldn't even tell Renn about this. She was his friend, but she was also 30
the Mage's apprentice. She mustn't know. No one must know. If he was sick, he'd rather die alone in the Forest than strapped to a litter. Then a terrible