Kavio
The woman led Kavio to a small, round hut in a clearing in the woods. He didn't trust anyone with his canoe, so he strapped it onto his already heavy pack and carried it with him.
Her home was near the river. Someone had built a fence around the clearing using sticks and thin tree trunks. But it was a poor fence and wouldn't keep much out. A shallow ditch circled the hut, but it wasn't deep enough to stop anyone either.
She invited him to sit. Kavio took off his pack and canoe and stretched his sore back, but stayed standing.
"You have no clan?" he asked.
"I do," she said. "I'm Ruga, daughter of the Lark Creek Clan. But my clan won't let my son into the clanhold. I won't leave him alone, so we live here, just the two of us. My sister and her husband help me sometimes, but they won't sleep here. I'm not a beggar. If you heal my son, I'll pay your price."
"What kind of sickness does he have?" Kavio asked.
Ruga played with the ropes around her neck.
"I'll let you see for yourself." She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Gremo! Hey ho, Gremo!"
Kavio expected to see a small child. Instead, a full-grown man came walking slowly from behind the hut. He moved in the ditch. His ribs stuck out from his chest, but he looked strong—strong enough to drag a huge stone behind him.
That's what was slowing him down. The boulder was as tall as Kavio's waist. Hundreds of ropes tied the rock to Gremo's body. It looked like a nest of crazy spider webs.
Gremo didn't look at Kavio or say anything. He just muttered to himself and kept walking. The stone dragged behind him in the dirt. He didn't try to enter the hut. He just kept walking around the circle, again and again, stuck in the rut he had made.
"The ropes are tied too tight to cut," Ruga said. "That's his curse."
Kavio stepped closer. Gremo flinched and looked down, ashamed. Kavio tried cutting the ropes with his obsidian blade, but the stone edge only dulled. The ropes didn't even fray.
Ruga was right. The cords glowed in Kavio's Vision—they were filled with magic. Mostly Blue and Yellow, twisted together like a snake's nest. It was a magical bond, not just a physical one.
The magic had to be undone before the ropes could be cut.
Gremo whimpered as Kavio studied the bindings. It made Kavio want to shake him. Stand like a warrior, he thought. But then he reminded himself: I am not my father. I must pity weakness, not punish it.
"Don't be afraid," Kavio said, trying to keep his voice calm. But Gremo cowered under his arm anyway.
With a sigh, Kavio walked to the edge of the clearing and sat down against the fence.
"What are you doing?" Ruga shouted. "Why aren't you dancing yet? Do you want to shame me?"
"I need to study the knots," Kavio said. "Then I'll know if I can undo them."
"You said you would heal my son!" Her voice was sharp now, almost screaming.
"I said nothing," he replied. "Please, auntie. I'll tell you when I'm ready."
Ruga grumbled and went behind the hut. Kavio heard the sound of grinding—stone on stone, like a mortar and pestle. She was working on something.
He let her sounds fade into the background. He noticed the wind in the trees, the smell of baking bread, the sky turning purple as the sun set. But he didn't take his eyes off Gremo, the ropes, and the rock.
Gremo made several laps around the hut as Kavio watched.
Ruga brought him a piece of flat corn bread on a leaf and left it near him. He ignored it at first. Later, he ate it. It was cold, dry, and tasted like sand. His stomach growled afterward, angry at such a small meal.
At sunset, a man walked into the clearing. He had a spear and wore paint like a warrior.
"You! Outtriber!" the man said, pointing his spear at Kavio. "My wife's sister told me you were here."
Ruga ran out. "Lambo, I asked him here. He's a healer. He might be able to cure Gremo."
"He hasn't done anything but sit around and eat your food!" Lambo shouted.
Food? There was food? Beer? Kavio thought.
Lambo stormed up to Kavio. They stood chest to chest.
"You think Ruga is easy prey," Lambo growled. "But she has kin who will avenge her."
"And Gremo?" Kavio asked. "Would his clan avenge him?"
"Gremo is her baby," Lambo said. "She'd die before letting anyone harm him."
Across the yard, Gremo still pulled the stone, grunting softly. His back shone with sweat. He was no baby.
"He never went through Initiation?" Kavio asked. "He's had this curse since childhood? No wonder the magic is so tangled."
"Nice words," Lambo said, "but they don't prove anything. Others came with promises and left with her gold. Look at her—she wears no gold now. She has nothing left. So stop your tricks."
"I'll take your words for what they're worth," Kavio said. "Which is not much."
He turned his back.
He heard the growl and the step in the dust—but Lambo's attack was slow and sloppy. Kavio ducked, grabbed him, and threw him flat on the ground. In the same motion, he took the spear and pressed it to Lambo's throat.
"Maybe I wasn't clear," Kavio said coldly. "I don't care about gold. I want to solve the magic of the knots. If I can untangle them, I will. If not, I'll say so. Either way, I'll be gone in a few days. So don't waste my time."
"Forgive me, Tavaedi," Lambo whispered. "Please let me live. I have children… and a wife…"
Kavio dropped the spear. Fighting someone weak only made your Shining Name smaller. His father had taught him that.
He walked to the river, relieved himself under a tree, and then bathed. The cold water made him think of the icy mountains he had left behind—and the home he would never return to.
A bowl of beer would be nice, he thought.
When he came back, Ruga and Lambo looked shocked.
"You've returned!" Ruga clapped her hands. "You've returned!"
"I thought I offended you," Lambo said. "I feared you left."
"Left my pack and canoe behind?" Kavio said, raising one brow. "Hardly. You didn't touch them, did you?"
"No, no, Tavaedi!" said Lambo quickly.
"Good," said Kavio. "Don't."