Kavio
A few days later, they reached a clanhold with a name Kavio recognized: Jumping Rock.
He was curious. This was the clanhold Hertio had once told him to attack, to collect deathdebts.
It was not a large place now. But old, broken docks showed it had been bigger before.
Just as Hertio had said, there were few strong men, and no Tavaedies at all.
Most of the people were elders, women, children, and a few Shunned.
The one thing they had rebuilt since the flood was the bone wall around their hold.
In fact, they had built a second wall—this one made of wood—outside the first one, for extra protection.
It was clear they knew they were weak and feared attack.
Kavio could not help studying the defenses like a warrior. He asked himself how he would have broken through if he had followed Hertio's orders.
As usual, they arrived in the early afternoon.
Kavio spent the day teaching Dindi. But it was winter, and night came quickly.
At sunset, they returned to the clanhold.
Since the start of the journey, Gremo and Svego had become inseparable.
But tonight, Gremo sat alone in a dark corner, still carrying the rock on his back, whispering to Rthan.
Kavio didn't know what those two could have in common. And what he didn't know made him uneasy.
Gremo also acted strangely during the evening meal.
He started asking questions about someone named Ezlo of Jumping Rock.
At first, the old aunties only said Ezlo had died. But Gremo kept asking.
"How did he die? In the flood?"
The old women clucked their tongues. "Mercy, mercy. Such a shame, such a scandal. Mercy, mercy."
"Then he didn't die in the flood?"
"He is dead. We do not speak of it," said one woman with thin white hair and a bald spot.
"Did he die fighting Yellow Bear warriors?" Gremo asked. He glanced sideways at Rthan. "Maybe in the New Moon Raid, eight years ago?"
"Mercy, no," said Auntie Baldy. "If only he had."
"Then how did he die? You must tell me!" Gremo shouted.
"Gremo!" Kavio said sharply. "Enough. We are guests."
Gremo glared but said nothing.
"For many years, Ezlo lived among us as an honored warrior," said Auntie Baldy. "He was a bright-eyed boy when he came to marry my daughter, Nazza. He fought in the Battle of Lark Creek and killed many enemies."
"That's not all he did at Lark Creek," Gremo muttered darkly.
But Auntie Baldy kept going, ignoring him.
"He covered himself in glory. He earned a Shining Name—Ezlo the Fierce.
"But mercy." Her voice turned bitter. "It was all a lie.
"He was hiding something. All those years, he hid it.
"He thought if he killed enough enemies, if he won enough glory, he would escape the law. But no one escapes the law."
Now Kavio was curious. "What do you mean, Auntie? What was he hiding?"
"Shunned!" Auntie Baldy cackled. "He had spoiled magic. He should have been Shunned long ago, but he kept his secret.
"That was the worst part—his dirty lies.
"We killed him as soon as we found out. For seven days, we tied him to a post, naked. We made him drink water and piss into a big clay jar.
"Then, on the last day, we boiled him alive in his own piss." She spat on the floor. "It was after that the floods came. Even in death, he hexed us."
"Maybe if you hadn't murdered him for something he was born with, he wouldn't have cursed you," Gremo said.
"Enough, Gremo," said Kavio.
"What is it to you?" Aunt Baldy snapped. "How do you know Ezlo of Jumping Rock?"
"It doesn't matter," Gremo said.
He shivered. "Whatever I thought I wanted from him… whatever I thought he wanted from me… I was wrong."
The meal ended on that heavy note, and they went to sleep.
Since the flood, there were many empty huts. The clanfolk gave the guests real houses to sleep in.
But the river never truly slept. Its voice whispered through the dark.
Kavio stepped in front of Gremo before he could go inside.
"Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing," Gremo muttered.
"You swore loyalty to me, henchman. Who was Ezlo to you?"
Gremo's jaw tightened. "My father."
"Mercy…"
"I came here to kill him," Gremo said flatly. "But now I find he's already dead—for all the wrong reasons."
He looked away.
"He came to me once," Gremo said. "In a Vision. It was the night before what would have been my Initiation.
"I think now… maybe it was the night he died. He told me to come to him. To kill them all.
"I thought he meant the Yellow Bear clansfolk.
"But now I wonder… maybe he meant his own people. The Blue Waters clan.
"He nearly destroyed them himself, didn't he?
"I must have inherited my magic from him. I inherited the monster too."
"Maybe," Kavio said. "But did you ever think—maybe your father didn't bring the flood to destroy his clan?
"This part of the river floods often. I noticed that.
"If his magic was as strong as yours, but he had to hide it, maybe he spent years protecting this clan from floods.
"Maybe he knew his death would remove that protection.
"Maybe he begged you to save lives—not to take them."
"Zavaedi…" Gremo's lips twisted. "I know my father was an evil man. But thank you for letting me hope he might not have been."
"Many people say my father is an evil man too," Kavio said. "I don't know if they're right.
"But I do know this—I am not my father."