Excerpt: Totems

Raven stared out at the water, swirling endlessly away from shore. Her dark hair hung down her back, lifting and falling with every breath of wind... The breeze was fresh, tinged with the usual tang of salt water and sea-weed, but there was something else, something almost intangible, underneath the scent. It was the smell of danger.
She turned, staring down the rocky shore. A hundred yards away was the boat launch, and several light brown figures were moving busily about, readying several of the tribe’s largest canoes to be launched into the water. This was a fairly normal occurrence, but the figures were moving with unusual haste, staring occasionally at the ominous-looking sky.
There was the soft crunch of gravel behind her, and she turned back to see the tall, thickly muscled form of Bear, his tanned face worried. He saw her looking at him, and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Have you had another sign?”

She shook her head. There had been nothing since her last vision. She remembered the scene of roaring waters and green sky, blurry with rain and with no land in sight. Her heart thumped as she felt the weight of everyone, the entire island, depending on the Four to save them from whatever lay ahead.

“Where is Eagle?” she asked, trying to keep the scorn from her voice. She had little patience for the youngest of the Guardians.
“He is with Squirrel, but she can’t seem to convince him. We have to hurry. If the storm comes before he’s ready…” He looked down to the people on the launch, now loading the canoes with provisions. Running a hand through his hair, his brow creased with anxiety.
“Maybe one of us should stay here.” Raven suggested, realizing his meaning. A gust of wind lifted her hair and whipped it across her face. The waves were crashing on the shore, the noise almost drowning out the howling of the wind.
“I will.”
She stared at him. “You? No! You have to lead the people.”
He avoided her glance, staring out over the water. He was their leader, she thought. The leader of the Four was also the leader of the people. They would listen to her, she knew, but what would happen if they never returned to the island? She shuddered, imagining Bear alone on the island for eternity, living indefinitely without apprentices to train. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work.
“We don’t know whether the storm will go for the island or the people. If we split up we have a better chance for leaving a Guardian to be a trainer.”
“If only I had sensed it sooner.”
“It isn’t your fault. There is always evil just after the Naming. It thinks that we are the weakest then. Take Squirrel with you. I will remain with Eagle. If you need to you can both fly back, even if it means deserting the People.”
A clap of thunder shook the skies and Raven looked up in fear. She didn’t like the idea of leaving the island at all, but what choice did she have? One of the Four had to survive. She reached out to Eagle with her mind and explained the situation. She felt his fear even without being strongly connected to his mind. He was terrified out of his wits.
She severed the link and looked back towards Bear. He had an odd expression on his face. She stepped forward, encircling his lean body with her arms. He returned the embrace, and they stood still for a minute, until he suddenly shuddered, staggering backward.
“What’s wrong?”
He made no reply for several minutes, and for one second she could see only the raw animal expression behind his eyes, the eyes of a bear. Finally he opened his mouth.
“It’s started.”
His knees buckled, and he almost fell, reaching out a hand to catch himself at the last second. She reached out to him, feeling for his mind with her own. She caught a glimpse of horrible anguish, a terrible force hammering on all sides. Then he repelled her violently, and she was left reeling on the beach. A drop of rain hit the top of her head, and she turned, breaking into a full sprint down the beach, towards where the people were waiting. Her stomach twisted in fear as she saw the height of the waves, the color of the sky. Had they already waited too long?
Again, the scene from her vision flooded across her mind. She saw the island, covered in water, as a lightning bolt shot down from the broiling black clouds, hitting one of the trees and starting a fire. She saw the village, huts covered in twenty-foot flames while the rain poured down, unable to put it out. She saw the waves, thirty feet high, dissolving the launch and capturing all the boats.
She saw the doom of the people.
Shaking her head, Raven slowed her pace, knowing it would be better for the people to see her acting in her normally dignified way.
Eagle was already there, huddled miserably in the front of one of the canoes. He looked smaller than usual, his hawk’s eyes distant in his unusually pale face. She looked around for Squirrel, hoping, and yet dreading, to see her in the trees. And there she was, even tinier than Eagle, her small, angular face peering out from behind a curtain of branches at the end of the path to the village. The rain was starting in earnest now, pattering gently and yet sinisterly on the water all around. Raven squinted through the haze, trying to make out the mainland. It was barely visible, a dark smudge far in the distance. She tried to remember what the woods looked like there, but couldn’t. Would the people there welcome the Tribe? It had been so long since she had ventured off the island, not feeling comfortable leaving the sanctuary of the Four. It had always been Bear that went, knowing none of the others wanted to. She shivered, realizing for the first time how much he had done for them all. And now she was leaving him and Squirrel, very likely to their deaths. Whatever was attacking the People would target the center of their power first.
She jumped into the nearest boat, shouting to the men to cast off. They obeyed instantly, and the boat grated on the barnacle-encrusted rocks as the first of the six boats floated out into the water. One of the women—Dancing Pine, Raven thought her name was—helped her find a seat, eyes downcast in respect. In a matter of seconds, every member of the tribe was seated, down to the smallest infant.
Adjusting the cedar bark pack wedged next to her in the prow, she gestured to the men to choose their own course. They knew it better than she anyhow.
The last of the tribe’s many dogs jumped in behind her, and they were off. She took one last look at the dark shape where she had left Bear. He had shifted, and now there was nothing but a dark shape, standing upright in the wind.
Looking back at the people, she saw that several had seen him. The noise of wind and water was too loud for her to hear individual voices, but she could read their expressions. There was respect, awe, and—to her surprise—fear. It had been so long since she had been one of these people, since she had been a toddler and hadn’t shown any of the signs. What would it be like to have no responsibility to look after the tribe?
The water was already getting rougher, the waves lifting the stern higher and higher with every surge. Once more she remembered with horror the flood she had seen in her vision, where most of the island was covered in water. How could Bear survive that? She felt the water streaking down her face turn warm, and suddenly realized she was crying.