Part 106: Coming To

Main story folder & table of contents: "Return To Manitou Island" 
Previous chapter: "Part 105: Fallen Brother" 

INTERIM

It's never where you think you'll find it
The thing you think you're looking for
It could take you all your lifetime
And still you'd never quite be sure

You could look everywhere
Because you know it's there
Somewhere beneath the sky
But too close and you'll get burned
There's no lesson learned
Yet some people pass it by

You'll see things different when you look through my eyes
Things are different if you see what I see
Just look closely and you'll see through my eyes
It could be different, you'll see how it could be
If you can see

You may need help to find your way home
(Just look closely)
Those who brought you here have flown
The road you take is full of hope or sadness
(Just look closely)
The choice you make will be your own

But you're not alone in there
Just say hello in there
'Cause there are many just like you
(Just like you)
They'll help you find some way
To make it all the way
They'll tell you all you have to do

You'll see things different when you look through my eyes
Things are different if you see what I see
Just look closely and you'll see through my eyes
It could be different, you'll see how it could be
If you can see

No one warns you of the heartache
No one can hide you from the storm
But from the shadows there will come the sunshine
A place to dry and keep you warm

Though no one tells you how
Your heart's beating faster now
Getting stronger day by day
Suddenly it's clear
What you seek is near
It's what you learn along the way
Ohhh

It's never where you think you'll find it
The thing you think you're looking for
Well it could take you all your lifetime
Still you'll never quite be sure

You'll find it
You'll find it
Just look closely
You'll find it
Look closely
It's there
You'll find it
You'll find it
Yes you'll find it
If you look closely
Look closely
Look closely
Just look closely...


"Thru My Eyes"
Phil Collins
©2002 Philip Collins Ltd./Hit & Run Music (Publishing) Limited/EMI Music Publishing Inc., ASCAP
All rights reserved

* * * * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SIX:
Coming To

THOMAS'S EYES ABRUPTLY came open, and he found himself staring at a ceiling flickering with lamplight. He blinked a few times, then groaned and put a hand to his head, feeling a throbbing in his skull.

Charmian...?

Where...

It was cold and...fire...

His thoughts tried resolving themselves into some semblance of order, but it was hopeless, with this headache. He winced and carefully pushed himself up, keeping his eyes shut tight, both to block out the light and to try to think.

Something happened...we were on the west side...near the lake...that strange little woman was there...and the Turtle Fairy and the medicine man...

That's right, we were trying to get that spirit stone away from her...so what happened...?

Where am I...?

He opened his eyes, and tentatively lowered his hand to peer at his surroundings. The little parlor he sat in seemed familiar, though his throbbing head couldn't quite place it. After a moment he turned to see a small boy seated on a stool not too far from him, at the side of the room, and he was staring at him intently. Thomas stared back, his brow furrowing a little.

"Hello," he said, stupidly.

The little boy just sat where he was, his legs swinging back and forth and his hands tucked in his lap, his odd pale eyes fixed on Thomas's. After a moment he hopped down from his seat and came across the room, stopping right in front of him. Thomas froze when he reached up and placed one little hand against his forehead. He couldn't keep it from furrowing again though, before the boy pulled his hand away, then turned and trotted from the room, up the stairs and out of sight. Thomas stayed as he was for a moment, then blinked. He put his own hand back to his head only to find that his headache was gone. He glanced toward the stairs in confusion, when someone else came into the room and immediately saw him.

"You're awake!" Little Dove exclaimed, setting down a tray she'd been carrying, and promptly came over to press her hand to his forehead; he had to force himself not to pull back, this place was getting to him so much. "How are you feeling? You're so cold!"

"I'm...I'm all right," Thomas managed to say, gently brushing her hand away; she didn't appear to notice his discomfort, and smiled and turned to retrieve the tray, setting it beside him; he glanced down to see that it carried tea and biscuits. "How...how did I get here...?"

Little Dove clapped her hands together. "Oh! That's right, you were unconscious!" She poured a cup of tea and pressed it into his hands, though all he did was look at it. "They brought you here from Devil's Lake--some sort of fearsome fight--and Justin had to take care of you, though now that I think of it, he never got the chance to see to Charmian..."

"Charmian!" The name came out of Thomas's mouth before he could even think it, and he sat bolt upright, nearly spilling the tea. "Where is she? Is she all right--?"

Little Dove tilted her head. "Charmian? Yes, she's all right...well, mostly...she had some nasty bruises, but seemed fine. She and the others had to run off and leave you here, I'm afraid, because of a commotion over on the East Bluff...but it's been snowing so badly that I'm afraid I have no clue what's going on anymore..."

"Bruises...?" Thomas's brow furrowed and he looked at the window. "Do you know where they went? How long ago was it? How long have I been here? Who else was with her...?"

Little Dove's face screwed up. "You ask too many questions! How am I supposed to answer all that?" She put her hands to her head. "Let me see--they went back to my tribe, because something was up with somebody--it was maybe an hour or so ago--and you've been here the same--and the people with her were the exact same ones she arrived with--the medicine man from the cave, and that strange man with the spear--"

Thomas got to his feet. "Justin's the one who took care of me--?" he asked, setting the cup back down on the tray as he did so. "I was hurt pretty badly at all--?"

Little Dove's brow furrowed. "Well, you were unconscious, so I take it you were hurt...they said something about a stone of some kind that came out of you. They took it with them when they left."

Thomas stared at her in silence, then turned for the door. She had time to open her mouth before he was gone.

He made decent progress across the snow, jogging through the drifts on his way to the East Bluff. He spotted numerous trails as he went, what looked to be dozens of footprints inexplicably etched all throughout the woods, yet he tried to ignore them, chewing on his lip as he went over everything he'd been told and trying to account for the gaping hole in his memory.

What all happened while I was out--? That stone--? That thing got inside ME?

What's the last thing I remember--? That little woman...they were trying to get it away from her...so it then went into me? And now they've got it back?

What are all these tracks from?

How did Charmian get all hurt...?

This last thought made his pace slow until he came to a stop, panting slightly. He stared at the snow, then lifted his hands and looked at them. There wasn't really anything to see...but he'd seen what that spirit stone had done to Augwak and Chepi. If it had gone into him...

His hands started to shake, and his vision blurred; he scowled and blinked the feeling away as best as he could, and started running again.

If I hurt her...if I'm the one who hurt her...I can never forgive myself!

What did I say or do--? Why can't I remember any of it?

Where did they go--?

He came to the camp upon the East Bluff, and found it deserted. The state it was left in filled him with dread, and he poked around the wigwams disconsolately, unsure of what to do. Part of him said to keep looking around, or to head to the LaCroix cabin and try to find out what had happened; another part of him wanted to keep on to the bluff and see if they had made their way down there for some reason. He stood in the middle of the ruined camp and turned in helpless circles, unable to make up his mind.

A snorting noise in the woods made him jump and whirl around, holding his hand out in front of him. He blinked when he saw a familiar shadow standing among the trees, and it came toward him, letting out a low neigh.

Thomas blinked again. "Cloud--?" He stood and watched as the horse emerged from the woods, tossing his head as he came. He let out his breath and reached out his hand to scratch the animal's mane, and rubbed his muzzle as he peered around the camp.

"Well...looks like I showed up a little bit too late, huh, boy." He chewed his lip. "I wish I knew what's going on...where could they have all gone? I can't see any bodies anywhere..."

Cloud snorted and bumped his head against him, making him take a step back. The horse stepped around behind him and bumped him toward the woods, then again, and Thomas had to stumble a bit to keep from falling over.

"Hey--! All right, I'm going! You could show a little more tact, you know...I was just trying to..."

A whistling noise caught his attention now, and he looked up again. A manitou stood where Cloud had been a moment before and Thomas squinted to make sure that it was the one he remembered from earlier. "Mani...? Is that you?"

Mani whistled and bobbed his head. Looking for Red Land One? Not here. Gone to Turtle Ones' Arch with bad spirit stone.

"Fairy Arch--?" Thomas let out his breath in relief. He glanced at the ruins around him. "Then--what about them--are they all right--?"

Another whistle. Red Leaf ones go to grove on other side of Island. Keeping safe. Strange mainland ones come to east shore, attack, ogimah says to fight...

"Ogimah...?" Thomas sounded the word out and remembered what it meant, and his brow furrowed. "Black Elk Horn--he ordered an..." He blinked and his eyes grew. "Mani! Was there another one, one on his own? With a wounded shoulder? Not a--not an Island one." He struggled to think of how a manitou would describe a stranger. "But a--a strange mainland one, like the others you saw--did you see him?"

Mani's ear flicked and he tilted his head. Lonely mainlander one--? No--all in group. None wounded.

Thomas ran his hand through his hair. "Great...that means he's still out there somewhere!" He gestured at the manitou as he started backing toward the bluff. "Look--there's this fellow named Singing Cedars. He's an Iro--um--strange mainlander one. Should have an arrow wound to his shoulder. I have no clue where he is. But you might want to track him down, and maybe he can fill you in on what's going on. Or at least, you might want to keep your eyes open in case anybody's after him." He turned around. "I'll be heading to the Arch! If I miss anyone let them know where I went!"

Mani whistled, though Thomas was already scrambling down the bluff. Cloud paced along the top of the cliff a few times before deciding to stay where he was. The manitou flicked his ear, then sighed and turned away from the camp. He walked away into the woods, sniffing at the ground and at the trees, and eventually picked up his pace and headed north.

* * * * *

Singing Cedars sat huddled in the little cave, staring at the opening overlooking the land below. It felt like ages since the others had abandoned him here; he'd almost followed them, until remembering exactly what was out there. The thought of being confronted by both the chief's men, and his own people--now turned yellow eyed and strangely bloodthirsty--was enough to keep him sitting where he was, no matter how cold and aching and miserable he felt.

His teeth tried to chatter but he bit down on the inside of his mouth and scowled. They left me here! Just LEFT! What sort of nerve is this!

He rubbed at his arms and sighed. Although sheltered from the wind, the cave was still freezing and damp. And he had never much cared for small spaces. He peered around at his dark surroundings, then out of the entrance, and chewed his lip. He very, very slowly stuck his head out and looked from side to side before drawing it back in and shivering some more. His foot got a cramp, and he stretched it.

How long am I supposed to wait in here? Did they just forget about me...? He blinked, then scowled again. They did! They DID forget about me!

This realization filled him with indignation, and he stuck his head out of the cave again. He couldn't see or even hear anything, and even the wind seemed to have mostly died down. The icy leaves on the trees rustled a little, but that was all. He was all alone out here.

How dare they carry me up and stick me in a CAVE to pass the time! I'll hardly stay up HERE the rest of my life!

He put his hands on the upper rim of the entryway and put his foot out. Then pulled it back in. He repeated this several times, and then did the same with his other foot, almost retreating every time he made one move forward. He chewed his lip the entire time, eyes darting nervously from side to side. In this manner it took him fully fifteen minutes to work his way down the steep stand of rock, as he had to stop every few seconds to make certain that he was still alone. He finally reached the bottom without incident, and then sank down into the snow, letting out his breath and rubbing his head.

"Whoever came up with this idea," he mumbled, "whoever thought it would be such a grand idea to come to this Island...should have his throat cut!"

With this statement, he put his hand against the rock and started to push himself to his feet, only for a loud WHISTLE to make him jerk and whirl around. As soon as he saw the large deerlike creature with the blue eyes staring at him, he let out a yell of panic and fell back in the snow, trying to crabwalk away. He turned himself over and started scrabbling away from it, then shrieked when it butted at him with its antlers, trying to scoop him off of the ground. He grabbed onto them to avoid falling, and the next thing he knew he was being whisked through the woods, the wind whistling past him and his own voice screaming in his ears. He kept his eyes shut tight the entire way, not caring where they were going just as long as he would be able to get away safely once they got there. His screaming cut off in a whimper, and the creature changed direction and seemed to head down a slope; a moment later he fell to the ground with a thud, and winced when his shoulder hit the snow. He lay there curled up for a minute or two, cringing, before realizing that he was no longer moving. He tentatively opened one eye, then the other, then very slowly moved his arm away from his head, then very, very slowly turned his head to peer upwards.

A group of surprised-looking faces stared down at him with wide eyes.

Singing Cedars blinked, and his own eyes grew. He peered to the left, then to the right, and saw that he was surrounded by Islanders, all of them looking down at him. He felt his face grow hot, and his heart shrivel up into his throat.

One of the people sucked in a breath, and when Singing Cedars's gaze flicked toward him he recognized the medicine man whose wigwam he'd been in. A panicked look flitted across his face and he hissed, "It's him again!" and waved his hand frantically at his side.

Singing Cedars glanced to his side now. One of the women from the wigwam--the younger one--appeared, and gave him much the same look. Immediately they were both upon him, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him backwards. He bit off a cry of pain as they pulled him into a little recess formed by the trees and dumped him at their base. When he landed his shoulder knocked against a trunk and his mouth opened to yell--they both clamped their hands over his mouth at the same time, and tears sprang to his eyes as the medicine man started hastily binding up his wound again.

"Keep quiet!" he hissed, still in the same voice, and looked up at the young woman. "If Black Elk Horn sees him here--he will KILL him!"

"Charmian wouldn't be happy," the woman said with a worried look.

The medicine man shook his head and put a finger to his mouth. "That's why we have to keep him here--out of his sight!" He gave Singing Cedars the most venomous glare that he could muster. "That means you stay put if you want to keep your head!" He scrambled to his feet. "White Deer, keep an eye on him. I do not trust him to stay put. And I do not trust Black Elk Horn to not come looking around. I'll keep my eyes open!"

White Deer nodded and he turned and scurried away. Singing Cedars let out his breath to realize that he was all right, for now--then he bit off another yelp, his head jerking around when the young woman tugged on his bandage, sending a bolt of pain down his arm. When he glared at her she just gave him a sour look in return.

"It was loose," she said, and made her point by giving it another tug. Singing Cedars managed to keep his silence, though by now, he certainly wished that he had just stayed in that cave.

* * * * *

Charmian's fingers dug numbly into the branch of the tree that she was perched within, her eyes staring wide and wet over the edge of the strange bluff, unable to see the river far below. Manabozho crouched not too far away with Niskigwun's bow drawn, but the arrow remained unfired, his eyes wide and his face stunned. Niskigwun's hand still held her arm, but his grip had gone loose, and he too stared in the same direction that they did, pale and disbelieving.

It seemed as if the entire land had fallen dead silent, when the returning noises of their surroundings drew Charmian out of her shock--the rustling of leaves overhead, the moan of the wind, the cracking of the ice far below. This last noise sent a flare of panic surging up in her chest and she started to sit forward, but before she could get very far, Manabozho was propelling himself along the branches like a monkey and disappearing from sight.

She nearly fell forward. "Manabozho!"

Niskigwun grasped her arms and rose, pulling her up with him. The branches of the trees were so thick that he had difficulty ascending, yet he ignored the sting of the sticks poking and tearing at him and cleared the trees, flying out over the frozen river. Shapes were emerging upon the lower part of the bluff, Moon Wolf, Peepaukawiss, Mudjikawiss, and Marten appearing and glancing up at them in confusion. Charmian wrested herself loose of Niskigwun's grasp once he had carried her to a safe distance above the ground, and she fell in the snow, pushing herself up and running. Manabozho was ahead of her, doing the same; the river swelled outward on both sides here, almost forming a pond or lagoon, and ahead the bluff cut in front of it, a giant frozen sheet of water rising into the air, a petrified waterfall. Beneath the casing of ice they could still hear the dull trickling of some water making its way down through the cold, but until recently the surface of the river below had been crusted solid with a covering of ice. Not anymore though. A gaping hole loomed in the middle, the ice cracked and shattered and floating in hunks, and the water still sloshed from side to side. Manabozho launched himself at this, slipping and falling on the bank and landing hard. He let out a gasp of breath, and his voice came, high pitched and oddly broken. "Wabasso--!"

Charmian managed to reach the river without falling, and stumbled down toward the bank, forcing herself to stop short of setting foot on the ice. "Wabasso!" she yelled, and started glancing from side to side, hoping to see him crawling across the ice, or perhaps he had fallen in the snow--? Manabozho's and her eyes fixed on the hole in the ice at the same time and only now did they see ash-colored fur, tinged with blood, lining one edge; a couple of feathers lay scattered on the ice not far away, and there was something bobbing in the water itself. Charmian squinted to get a better look at it, then wished that she hadn't. Manabozho realized what it was, and his eyes flooded and spilled over, his voice rising to an awful shriek.

"Wabasso! WABASSO!"

Charmian sank into the snow, staring at the flute bobbing in the water. Her own vision blurred until all that she could see was indistinct white and gray and black all around her; the noises of the others approaching came to her as if through a fog, and she could barely even hear their voices when they spoke.

Moon Wolf's voice, faint and distant--"What happened--?"

Marten's voice, tiny and quivering--"The ice! It made a loud noise--!"

Puka's voice, almost as awful as Manabozho's--"Wabasso!! Oh no, Baby Brother--!!"

Charmian barely managed to lift her hand and rub it hard across her eyes, hissing through her teeth. Manabozho got to his feet and lurched toward the water; Niskigwun leapt forward and yanked him back. Manabozho started fighting against him, and Charmian took in a breath when she saw how blue his eyes flared.

"Let go of me!" he snarled, so viciously that Niskigwun obeyed. He turned back, but Marten was already scurrying across the ice. He quickly plucked the flute from the water, peered into the hole, and came dashing back, eyes wide. He scrambled up Manabozho's shoulder and the flute dropped into Manabozho's hand.

"I don't see anything," Marten said miserably. "Nothing but some icky old fur and some feathers!"

"He has to be here," Puka said, and started pacing along the bank, looking over the ice; Marten hopped down and joined him. "He couldn't have fallen through! He must have crawled across the ice, or gone into the woods, or--"

"Take a look!" Mudjikawiss snapped, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. "Do you SEE him anywhere? He did not crawl away! He went THROUGH! He is half manitou but half human also, stupid!"

Puka turned on him, his own fists clenched and tears in his eyes. "BE QUIET! He's YOUR baby brother, too! Why you do not care makes NO SENSE to me!" He turned back to the river and started darting back and forth even faster. "He has to be somewhere! He's always the careful one--he wouldn't get hurt--!"

"I heard the ice," Niskigwun murmured.

Marten turned his head to look at him, tail flicking. "Well--he's a water manitou, isn't he--? Maybe he got away somehow, or turned into water and hasn't turned back yet--?"

Charmian sucked in a breath so loudly that they all--except Manabozho--looked at her. "That's it," she said, her voice cracking, and her fingers curled in toward her palms. "Chakenapok," she said, not even noticing their stares; her own was still fixed on the hole shattered in the ice, and her eyes flooded again. "Why he wanted us here. Why he brought us here. The river--" Her breath hitched. "'Wind controls wind'--water controls water." Her shoulders started shaking. "You fight fire with fire. You fight water with--"

"Water." Moon Wolf said this, and realization dawned on his face. He looked at the river. "He knew...knew it would be the easiest way to take him out..."

"But--why?" Puka cried, tears streaming down his face. "Why 'Basso? What did he do? Why did he go after 'Basso--?!"

"It didn't matter who he went after," Moon Wolf said flatly. "Just so long as he took one of you out--"

"Then we can't defeat him," Charmian finished, and her shoulders slumped slowly, her hands going loose. "Without all four...we can't fight him. He planned this. He knew." Her eyes blurred and she lifted her head, biting her lip and focusing as best as she could on Manabozho, still standing on the bank. "Manabozho..."

He whirled around before the name was even fully out of her mouth. "He is DEAD!" he yelled, his voice as rough as granite and his eyes flashing blue and full of tears. He clenched his fists and bared his teeth, feathers flaring, and his next words tore through Charmian like one of Niskigwun's arrows.

"And it is YOUR FAULT!"

Continue:

Part 107: Return From The River  (13+) Desperate plans to return to the Island are rudely interrupted... #948792 by Tehuti, Lord Of The Eight

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