The Beast Player Read online

  The thick reeds were far too tall for her to see the drums, but she was certain that wherever they were, that was where her mother must be. A terrible thought seized her. What if the drumming was the signal for the execution to begin? Maybe they were going to throw her mother into the marsh as soon as it stopped. Her heart began to race and her chest tightened. She tried to run toward the sound but the mud sucked at her feet so that she could barely walk. Stumbling, she grabbed the reeds for balance and the sharp stalks sliced her hand. Still she kept on, doggedly heading toward the drums. She must reach her mother before they stopped!

  The sun rose, and the world around her brightened. The reeds ended abruptly, giving way to steel-gray water that spread far into the distance. Elin’s mother had once told her that the marsh was a series of swamps and lakes connected by rivers that led as far as the Yojeh’s territory to the west. Along the bank Elin saw a temporary camp. Huge drums had been erected on stands and warriors beat upon them with large sticks. Others carried a boat down to the shore, watched by a small crowd. Elin could make out the inspector astride his horse. There were more than just warriors gathered on the shore. All the higher ranked Stewards were there, too, including her grandfather.

  Just then, her mother was dragged from a tent. Elin gasped, and a chill spread through her body. Her mother was drenched in blood, and her hands were bound behind her. Two warriors gripped her under the arms and half lifted, half dragged her toward the boat. Clenching her teeth, Elin desperately choked back her sobs. But it was rage not grief that churned inside her. Thick ropes bound her mother’s legs and to these was tied a heavy stone. When they loaded her into the boat, Elin drew the dagger and discarded the sheath. The boat bearing her mother was pushed into the water.

  Can I make it? Elin wondered. It looked very far but she was sure she could swim that distance. Crouching down among the reeds, she yanked off her boots. She was just about to wade into the water when she realized that she couldn’t swim with the dagger in her hand. She thought of stuffing it back inside her top, but what if it fell out? With every moment of indecision, the boat moved further out into the marsh. There was no choice. Clamping the dagger between her teeth, she slid into the water and felt its frigid grip envelop her. The dagger in her mouth forced her to keep her head up, and she struggled desperately to suck air through her nose and mouth. Her jaw was soon numb from the weight.

  Boom! With a thunderous drum roll, her mother was tossed from the boat. The rowers watched her plunge into the water and then turned the boat back toward the shore. Sohyon disappeared for a moment but then her head broke the surface. Elin swam doggedly toward her, defying the weight of the dagger, which threatened to drag her underwater.

  “What’s that?” one of the warriors said. “Is it a pup?”

  “No. It looks more like a child.” This caused a stir among those assembled.

  “It’s a girl. And she’s got something in her mouth.”

  “…a dagger? Is she trying to rescue that criminal?”

  One of the warriors notched an arrow to his bow and looked up at the inspector. “Shall I shoot?”

  Still astride his horse, the inspector shielded his eyes with one hand and stared at the small figure struggling to stay afloat. He snorted. “That won’t be necessary… Look.”

  Ripples disturbed the water’s surface, circling in a wide ring around the condemned prisoner. Large shadows twisted and turned sinuously beneath the water. “The drums have woken the Toda. They’ve found the live bait we threw in.”

  Elin’s grandfather watched the scene unfold, his lips parted. The girl was his granddaughter, just ten years old, trying to save her mother. What a pitiful sight. No, he chided himself. It’s better this way. After all, she’s Akun Meh Chai. She’ll be better off dying with her mother. The child was unclean, the product of a union with an outsider. She should never have been born; she was a mistake that must be corrected, erased. Like this. It was fate. So he told himself, but when he saw the black forms of the Toda slowly break the surface behind her, his flesh crawled.

  Sohyon struggled to keep her face out of the water. Although the marsh was not very deep, her feet did not reach the ground. The stone tied to her legs, however, appeared to be resting on the bottom, and she was no longer weighed down. Blood gushed from a deep wound in her midriff, made purposely to attract the Toda. With it, she felt her life slowly ebbing away. She opened her eyes with great effort, prying open lids swollen from repeated beatings. The sight that greeted her left her stunned. Elin. Elin swimming. Toward her… What’s that in her mouth? My dagger! A hot lump rose in her throat as she grasped what the child intended to do. Tears blurred her vision.

  “Elin!” She kicked frantically with her bound legs, trying to reach her daughter. Elin looked like she would drown any minute. The dagger was too heavy. Sohyon could hear her throat rattle as she struggled to breathe through the saliva pooling in her mouth. Finally she grabbed the dagger with her right hand and swam with her left.

  “Elin, here! Grab my shoulder!” It was only when she felt Elin’s small hand fasten onto her shoulder that she saw the wave of water behind her. The Toda! Countless Toda, swimming in an ever-tightening circle. As they circled, the beasts eyed each other. Sohyon had seen them do this before when stalking large prey. They were testing each other to see who was the strongest. Once this had been decided, the most powerful Toda would attack first.

  “Mo-mother,” Elin spluttered. “The… rope…”

  Sohyon twisted her body and shoved her hands toward Elin. Still gasping, Elin took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks, and dived under the water. The ropes were thick and saturated but Sohyon pulled them taut, making them easier to cut. The dagger was sharp enough that after repeated attempts, Elin was able to make a large rent in the ropes. Feeling them begin to fray, Sohyon gritted her teeth and pulled her hands apart with all her strength, tearing the bonds. Then she grabbed Elin and dragged her up, raising her head from the water. Elin coughed and gasped for air.

  Sohyon hugged her in a fierce embrace and pressed her face against her cheek. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  “Mother, the ropes, on your feet…”

  “It’s all right. I can do it myself. Give me the dagger.” But as Elin passed her the knife, Sohyon felt a subtle change in the Toda’s movements. The test of strength was over. There would be no time to cut the ropes. In moments, the first Toda would begin the attack. She knew that with the deep wound in her belly she had never had any chance of escape. But for Elin, there was a way… There was a way, but she had been taught that she must never, ever use it, not even to save the life of her daughter. This Oath had been ingrained within her marrow from the time she was born. If she broke it now, in front of all these people, she could precipitate a disaster for which she could never atone, not even by laying down her life.

  Sohyon looked at the little child before her, her face wet with tears and marsh water. The turmoil gripping her heart burst and vanished. Hugging her daughter close, she whispered, “Elin, you must never do what I am going to do now. To do so is to commit a mortal sin.”

  Elin stared back at her, uncomprehending. Sohyon smiled and held her head with one hand. “I want you to survive. And to find happiness.” She threw the dagger aside, put her fingers to her mouth and blew. A high, modulated whistle split the air. The Toda stopped immediately and the churning water grew still. But they were not frozen. Rather, they waited quietly, heads poised as they stared at Sohyon.

  The inspector narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? What’s that woman up to?” he demanded.

  Elin’s grandfather shook his head. “I don’t know. She appears to be whistling…”

  “But the Toda have stopped moving. How can a finger whistle have that much power?”

  Elin’s grandfather paled. “But that’s impossible,” he said. “Not even the Silent Whistle can immobilize wild Toda.”

  *

  Sohyon’s whistle traversed the scale from high to low, en
ding with a strange and powerful modulation. The Toda had been listening intently, like hounds to a hunting whistle, but at this they instantly swept en masse toward her. Elin screamed. Enormous Toda heads converged on her in a spray of water. The seaweed-like mane of one touched her cheek, and she was overwhelmed by the fishy smell of their breath and the cloying musk of their membranes.

  Suddenly, she felt herself thrust into the air. Her mother was hoisting her up beneath her armpits. “Elin, grab onto the horns. Climb onto the Toda’s back!” Elin stretched out her arms and, grasping its horns, dragged herself up onto its back, which was sticky with mucous. “Grip hard with both legs,” her mother yelled. “And don’t let go of the horns!” Then she put her fingers to her mouth and whistled again. Instantly, the Toda began to swim, moving with incredible speed. Clinging to the horns and pressing her knees tight against its hide, Elin turned to look back.

  “Mother!”

  “Go!” her mother shouted. “Don’t look back! Go!” Then the Toda surged toward her, and she vanished in their midst.

  “Mother! Mother!” The spray snatched Elin’s cries away. She tried to slide off the Toda’s back, but the mucous clung to her clothes like glue and she could not move. The Toda snaked through the marsh water in a cloud of spray. West it traveled, always west, at great speed.

  Behind her, everything Elin knew—her mother, her home—vanished, while before her stretched an endless expanse of slate-gray water.

  4 THE SPIRIT BEAST

  The stars were beginning to twinkle in the evening sky, framed by the silhouettes of slender branches. A young woman walked quickly along the forest path, her arms filled with brushwood for the cooking fire. Garbed in a cloak of greenish gray that hooded her face, she was almost invisible, blending like a wild creature into the forest shadows.

  Suddenly, she heard a tinkling sound and halted abruptly. Tiny green lights, like flickering fireflies, gathered in the air above her and took shape.

  A Spirit Bird!

  The apparition of light drifted down between the trees, and came to rest on a dark shoulder. What had until that moment appeared to be nothing more than the shadow of a tree was now faintly revealed as human in form. The luminescent Spirit Bird burst into myriad green lights that flitted like shining leafhoppers about the figure, then reassembled once again, alighting between two branch-like horns on its head, and finally dissolved inside it. As it did so, the figure began to glow firefly-green. Although it resembled a human, its legs were most definitely non-human. Opening its golden eyes, the beast stared unblinkingly at the girl.

  Shaking, she lowered her bundle of kindling and knelt on the ground. She closed her eyes, calmed her ragged breathing, and listened.

  The beast opened its mouth and the air vibrated with high tinkling sounds, like little bells jingling. The vibrations merged into a single resonance, similar to the sound of human speech. Holding her breath, the girl strained to hear. Finally, the humming sound ceased, and countless lights scattered from the beast’s head. In the blink of an eye, it had melted back into the darkness. Sweat beaded the girl’s brow. Forgetting her bundle of brushwood, she sped through the trees, repeating the words she had just heard, over and over.

  Deep in the forest, where not even hunters came, a cave had been carved midway down a cliff overhanging a gorge. The entrance was small and so well hidden by a profusion of vines and shrubs that it was invisible even from close at hand. Inside, however, lay a surprisingly large cavern. Except that it was completely dry, it resembled a Toda Chamber. There were seventeen openings in the walls, each covered with a thick curtain. Behind each of these was another cave as spacious as a house, its floors covered by thick carpets so finely woven that they even repelled water. Lit by candles, the caves formed comfortable living spaces.

  The girl, gasping for breath, burst through the entrance and stood in the center of the hall. She placed her fingers to her mouth and blew, making a sound like a bird warbling. As it echoed through the stone caves, seventeen curtains were flung aside, and people of all ages spilled out into the cavern. All were slender and green-eyed.

  The chief elder, a white-haired woman, stepped forward, accompanied by a man. “What happened?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “I-I met a Spirit Beast… I think… It took the form of a horned beast and spoke.”

  At this, the crowd gasped. “It can’t be,” someone exclaimed. “Could there really be Spirit Beasts left in this forest? I thought they had all died out…”

  Silencing the speaker with a glance, the chief elder urged the girl to continue. “What did it tell you?”

  Her face pale and tense, the girl clenched her fists as if to keep herself from trembling. “I have no experience. Perhaps I didn’t understand properly… but I will tell you what I heard. It said, ‘The Handler’s Art has been used. Someone has whistled to the Toda.’”

  The chief elder’s face froze. She turned to the man beside her, and he beckoned the other elders to come forward.

  “Was that all it said?”

  “Yes, that was all.”

  The chief elder nodded. “You listened well… You may leave now.” Then she turned to face the crowd. “The elders will consult. When we have finished, we will let you know what we have discussed. Please return to your homes until then.” Bowing, the people left the hall.

  The elders sat in a circle on the carpet. “It was the Toda whistle that was used. That means it could only have been Sohyon,” the chief elder said. At these words, a woman of about sixty tensed and bowed her forehead to the floor.

  “I beg your forgiveness for raising such a daughter. This is all my fault.” She remained motionless under their gaze, her head bowed to the ground.

  Finally, the chief elder said gently, “She was a clever girl, with a kind heart… And a strong will, too. I would never have thought she would use the Art.”

  Another elder spoke up. “We should send a scout to find out what happened. We must know the circumstances in which the Toda Whistle was used.” The others nodded.

  “And we must hurry,” another said, his expression dark. “If it was used in front of others, if anyone saw that we can control the Toda, the news will surely reach the Aluhan’s ears. And if that should happen, he will seek us out and try to force us to share our secret.” Once again, everyone nodded.

  “We must tell our people, all of them, and warn them to hide,” the chief elder said. “Until we find out what happened, we must exercise extreme caution. No one is to visit the villages below.”

  The young scout sent to investigate Sohyon’s village returned four days after the appearance of the Spirit Beast. After hearing his report, the elders sat frowning in silence for some time. Finally, the chief elder spoke. “So Sohyon has already been executed.”

  His head bowed, the scout forced the words out between clenched teeth. “Yes… It was… horrible. The way she died… The inspector feared he would be punished for his carelessness. He accused Sohyon of killing the Toda in an act of deliberate treachery and ordered her execution. But…” He raised his head. “Ironically, Sohyon was directly involved in their deaths. I managed to view the carcasses and a change in the mucous membrane was clearly evident. They had reached the breeding season.”

  The Elders frowned. They all knew what that meant. Nodding sadly, one of them said, “…Sohyon would surely have noticed that change. She gave them the tokujisui fully aware of what was happening; knowing that because of the alteration in the membrane the tokujisui would be lethal.”

  “So, in the end, Sohyon kept the Oath,” the chief elder whispered. She looked over at Sohyon’s mother, who was weeping silently. “Your daughter did not renounce her allegiance to the Clan. She chose to let the Toda die rather than to reveal the meaning of the change that had come over them, even though she knew she might be killed.”

  Sohyon’s mother said nothing, swallowing her sobs.

  “But she could not bear to see her child torn to pieces by the Toda,” the chief
elder continued. “At the very end, she gave in to her emotions…”

  The elders, their expressions grim, remained silent for some time. Finally the chief elder broke the silence. “What happened to Sohyon’s daughter?”

  The young scout shook his head. “Nahson is following her trail now, but the channels there crisscross in many places. It will be difficult to find which route the Toda she was riding took. And she’s only ten years old. She could not have held on to the Toda forever…” He closed his eyes and bowed his head, as did the elders. From somewhere far in the distance, they heard the long lonely cry of a night bird. When the echo had faded into the stillness of night, the youth spoke again. “…I grieve for Sohyon and her daughter. But there is some solace in the knowledge that the inspector is a coward.”

  With their eyes, the elders urged him to continue. In a firm voice, he said, “He must have been terrified of being held responsible, of having any blemish on his record of service. He commanded the Toda Stewards to remain silent about the fact that Sohyon was an Ahlyo. I overheard the villagers discussing this among themselves.”

  At this, the faces of the elders relaxed considerably. “…Really? That’s very good news indeed,” the chief elder murmured. “Then no rumors will spread about Sohyon using the Handler’s Art.”

  The youth nodded. “Yes, I believe we don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Thank you for your work,” the chief elder said. “Keep scouting carefully. Regardless of why she did it, Sohyon broke the Oath, and that could still potentially bring disaster. We must never allow the Art to cause another catastrophe. The souls of our ancestors formed the Spirit Beast to warn us so that the rent we made in the Oath should not unravel the threads that hold its fabric together.” Then she added in a soft voice. “Even if no word of this reaches the ears of the Aluhan, the sight of us could spark rumors, and we must avoid that at all costs. Let us leave this land for a while and conceal ourselves in the mountains… until the flame of rumor has died out.”