Watching them approach, my mind flies to my family. Lees and Seeri, unaware that there’s any danger nearby, are probably in camp right now, helping with the evening meal or telling stories about the island. Fear yields to resolve as I start down the cliff, Kol’s spear in my hand, to confront them. I don’t need to look up to know Kol is right behind me.
“Mya,” he calls.
“Kol, you can’t stop me—”
“I’m not trying to.” His eyes move to the boats, almost directly in front of us. “Listen, you can talk to them without going all the way down to them. Stay out of range.”
He’s right. They would have to throw their darts up from the boats. Even with an atlatl, that won’t be easy.
Stopping on a narrow shelf of rock, I turn to face the sea. Kol keeps descending until he is beside me. “You couldn’t really have believed I’d stay behind,” he says.
When they are almost directly below the place we stand, yet almost certainly too far away to make an accurate shot with a dart, I call out to Thern and Pada. Looking up, they see us, and then something strange happens. They wave their arms and call back to us, smiling and paddling our way.
“We’re so glad we found you,” calls Pada. She picks up her atlatl and waves it over her head, and my thoughts spin, trying to make sense of it all—she and Thern here, weapons in hand, calling to us like friends. “Can you come down? We need to tell you something,” she says, shouting to be heard over the waves. “We’ve come to bring a warning.”
I turn to Kol, but he must want to trust them as much as I do. He’s climbing down before I can ask a question. My eyes move between Kol’s hands gripping the rock, Thern’s hands gripping his paddle, and Pada’s hands, still gripping the atlatl. She doesn’t see me, but I hold Kol’s spear angled at her chest, ready to throw it as soon as she makes a move for the darts. But she never does.
As I watch, Pada sets the atlatl down and picks up her paddle, moving closer to the place where Kol stops, just above the rocks that break the surface of the water. “Kol!” she calls out, his name carried on the sea breeze like a song. “You’ve recovered! You look so much better.” And when I hear this—when I hear the joy carried by her words—I know she is telling the truth. They haven’t come here to do us harm.
They’ve come to warn us.
By the time I reach the wet and slippery rocks and crouch beside Kol, both of us shivering in the spray, Thern and Pada have paddled as close to the cliff as the rocks will allow. “We’ve come to tell you Dora is alive,” Thern calls over the waves. “She is helping the Tama. She brought Noni’s father and a group of Tama fighters to the Bosha camp and promised to help them find Noni.”
I think of the last time I saw Dora, when she leapt into the sea. I remember waiting to see her body on the waves, but she never surfaced. I had worried that she might have survived the jump. Now I know that I was right.
“When will they be here?” I call out. I think of Noni in camp, unguarded. No one knowing she needs to be guarded.
“They are already here,” Pada answers. “Not far north, waiting for dark. We volunteered to help find you and fight for the Tama, but it was a lie. We wanted them to bring us along so we could help defend you. Tonight, we told them we would scout ahead, to find the best way into your camp. We will go back and say we found nothing, but they will come anyway. They are all armed with atlatls and darts, just like these.”
“How many in all?” Kol asks.
“Ten, counting the two of us.”
“All in kayaks?” I ask.
“Yes, but they are not strong on the sea.”
I remember this—Noni told us her mother ran away out to sea because their clan wasn’t accustomed to paddling in the open water. “We won’t wait for them to come to us,” I say. “We’ll come to them. We’ll warn them that Noni is not going back with them and tell them to turn back, but if they advance, we’ll stop them with force.”
As I say these words, I imagine what my brother would say. Would he approve, or would he tell me that sending Noni home would be the best way to protect the clan? I’m not sure, but I realize all at once that it doesn’t matter. Chev is not here to decide. I’m here, and defending Noni is the only choice I have.
I turn to Kol. I can’t compel him to help. This isn’t his clan and Noni is practically a stranger to him. He sees the question in my eyes. “Don’t even ask,” he says. “You know I’m with you. I’ll do anything to help you protect Noni.”
“It’s not just Noni you’re protecting,” Thern calls. The tide is coming in and the waves pound the cliff. He and Pada dig in their paddles to stay back from the rocks. “Dora struck a deal with Noni’s father—she brings him to Noni if he helps her kill Mya and her sisters.”
A wave thunders against the cliff, but it can’t drown out Thern’s words or the ringing that starts in my ears. “It doesn’t matter,” I call back. “Whether they’re coming for Noni, or me, or any of us—if they’re coming for Black Dog—they’re not getting what they want.”
“We’ll go back and watch for you,” Pada says. “And we’ll be ready to fight.”
Before I can shout a thank-you across the waves, she and Thern are gone.
The climb back up the cliff, the hike back down the ravine—it all passes like a cloud threading across the sky. By the time I notice where we are, we’re back at the ring of huts. The drum calls the clan to the evening meal. Kol and I hurry to the meeting place, and when we find his mother, we call her aside. “We need to speak in Mya’s hut,” Kol says. Mala’s eyes sharpen. She can hear the fight in Kol’s voice. She finds her other sons while Kol and I gather Morsk, Yano and Ela, Seeri, Lees, Noni, and Shava. The council of elders are scattered throughout the clan, sitting and eating, and I work my way through the gathered crowd, tapping my brother’s most trusted advisors and friends on the shoulder.
Once we are assembled in the crowded hut, I tell the story in as few words as possible. “My intention,” I start, then, glancing at Kol, I start again. “Our intention is to cut them off before they reach the camp,” I say. “But we have to prepare. The clan needs to be ready to defeat an enemy the way we defeated the Bosha.”
The silence expands, pushing against the walls of the hut. Morsk speaks, his voice ringing through the quiet room. “We’ll stop them,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”
“And me,” says Pek.
“And me and Roon, too.” My eyes move to Lees. Her usually soft face is hard with determination.
Before I can answer her, Kol is speaking. “I don’t know about Roon. He might be too young—”
“Then I’m going without Roon,” says Lees. “You can’t stop me from helping defend my friend—”
“But this is about more than Noni,” I say. “This is about you, too. Dora wants to kill you.”
“Then even better. You certainly can’t tell me I can’t defend myself.”
“Kol,” Roon says, “if she goes, I go.”
I stand staring at my sister as everyone else begins to move. People are anxious. “Morsk, Pek, Seeri, Kesh—you’ll come with Kol and me to meet the Tama on the water. Thern and Pada will side with us, too—”
“Which gives us eight to their eight,” Kol says. “One more would give us the advantage in number. Two more and we would be even stronger.”
“I won’t choose from among the Olen elders,” I say. I look into faces—the husband and wife who served as rowers for our betrothal trip, a woman I know to be an excellent hunter—they all wait to be told what to do. Chev would have told them. Self-doubt creeps into my thoughts, and I long for my mother’s voice, telling me she believes in me. I find myself turning to Mala. She’s not my mother—she’s not even clan—but I trust her. “Roon and Lees wish to volunteer and they have experience on the sea, but they are so young,” I say.
“I can’t tell you what to do to protect your own clan. You need to decide for Lees, and Kol needs to decide for Roon—”
“But you’re Roon’s mother.”
“And Kol is his High Elder. I can only say that as a mother, I’m scared.”
“Well, as High Elder of the Manu,” Kol says, drawing a deep breath and letting it out as a sigh, “I believe Roon should go. I’m sorry, Mother. I agree that he’s young. Probably too young. But I’ve seen him paddle for days. He’s strong on the water.”
“Mya,” says Lees, “please. Roon’s a stronger paddler with me than alone.”
I let this sink in. Lees and I were partners in the kayak to and from the island. At the worst times when I was the most tired, she came through with the push to keep us going. I watched her and Roon travel down the coast from the Manu camp. She isn’t wrong.
She would offer little help on her own, but with Roon, she makes a difference. They are stronger together. “All right,” I say. “You and Roon can share a double kayak, but you are there for a show of force and not to engage in fighting. You are to stay in the back—”
My words break off. Lees and Roon are already out of the hut, heading for the beach.
“Any others who wish to come with us to confront the Tama, we welcome you. We’ll be armed with atlatls and darts—the weapon of choice of the Tama and the easiest to fire from a kayak.” The husband-and-wife rowers—Evet and Niki—step forward. They were my brother’s close friends. My eyes meet Niki’s and I remember the last time I looked at her, as she helped steady me as I climbed from the canoe on the Manu’s shore—and I think how her steady hand will help me again. She nods at me as she and Evet duck out of the hut.
“Those who stay onshore need to alert the rest of the clan and ready a defense. Spears must be distributed. Every member of the clan should be armed with some sort of weapon—a knife or even rocks—and all must be able to defend themselves if the Tama reach the camp.”
“They’ll never reach the camp,” Morsk says so low it’s no more than a whisper, as if the words weren’t meant for me, but were between him and the Divine.
“I’ll help hand out weapons.” It’s Shava’s voice. She gets to her feet and steps to my side. “I’ll make sure the strongest hunters are armed with spears. I know I’m not Olen or even Manu yet, but Thern and Pada are helping out on the water. A Bosha should help onshore, too.” Shava has tears in her eyes. I don’t pull back when she embraces me. “Good luck, my future sister.” I nod my head against her hair. She pulls back, and slips out of the hut.
It isn’t long before Mala, Kol, Noni, and I are left alone in the hut. “You don’t need to do this,” Noni says. Her voice shakes but her eyes are dry. I think she must have learned a long time ago how to hold back her tears. “I could hide from my father. I could run away again.”
“This isn’t just about you,” I say. “It’s about me and my sisters, too.” Then I stop myself. There’s more that she should know. “But if it were just about you, we would still stop your father. We would do whatever was necessary to defend you.”
I say this without hesitating, without listening for my brother’s whispered advice before I speak or his hushed rebuke after. For the first time since Chev died, I am trusting myself to be the High Elder.
I turn to Mala, and this time it’s me who draws us into an embrace. Then I have Kol’s hand, and we are hurrying to the beach.
On the water we are ten in all: Kol, Morsk, and I are out front, with Pek, Seeri, and Kesh forming a second row, all in single kayaks. And in back, Lees and Roon in one double kayak, Niki and Evet in another. We paddle hard as the sun drops into a ridge of clouds that sit upon the western horizon, spreading a diffuse light. Thern and Pada had said the Tama were waiting for darkness to strike. We need to reach them first.
We pass the cave in the cliffs where Thern and Pada found us. The high waves that crashed against the rocks have quieted—the tide is going back out. It makes travel easier and quicker, as ten paddles stab the water, pushing us farther and farther toward danger. Still, rather than rising, my fears ease as we get closer to the Tama. I feel the camp growing safer and safer the farther we leave it behind.
Like Thern and Pada, we each carry an atlatl on the deck of our kayaks. We each carry a supply of darts. I glance at the pack of darts looped over Kol’s shoulders—ten in all—and I hope we have enough. Kol and I also found harpoons in the kayaks we took, left over from the last hunt for walrus or seals. Others may also carry them. We left them on board in case we were to need them, the ropes coiled at our feet.
We don’t go far beyond the cave before Kol points to the shore with his paddle—the Tama are camped in the open on a low bluff. It isn’t long before they see us too, and Thern and Pada sprint for their own boats. They paddle hard, leaving the shore and gliding like birds on the water, coming right for me.
I remind myself that they can be trusted—that they are coming to fight for us, not against. Still, my fear that we’ve been tricked ebbs only when they reach me and turn, lining up against the Tama by my side.
“The one in the middle is the High Elder,” Pada calls over the wind, as we all bob on the surface, waiting like prey. The Tama aren’t far behind the Bosha. Once they realize they’ve been betrayed and we’ve been warned, they scramble down to their boats. A flash of white catches my eye and I see her—Dora—boarding a kayak right beside Noni’s father. Perhaps spurred by rage at having been fooled by Thern and Pada, they move astonishingly fast and paddle much more skillfully than I’d hoped. They head right for us. It won’t be long before they have reached the place where we wait.
While he is still far enough off that a dart should not reach me, but close enough to hear, I call out to Noni’s father. “High Elder of the Tama,” I shout, suddenly aware that I don’t even know the man’s name. So be it. I’d rather not know the name of such a man. “We’re here to tell you that Noni will not be returning to your clan. You may not proceed to our land. Turn back now and we won’t pursue you. But be warned—we are prepared to defend her and ourselves.”
“I will not take orders from a woman who believes she can steal my property from me,” calls Noni’s father. I recognize him as the man who chased Lees and me out to sea. “I will retrieve my daughter, even if we have to kill every member of your clan to do it.”
With that he digs hard with his paddle, heading fast toward Kol.