SPIRIT WALKER

Chapter 20: Ananoi and Shape-Changing Woman (part 2 of 2)

When she got to the garden, she saw a beautiful man in the moonlight and did not recognize Ananoi. But the spirit worm sang of all the evil deeds that had led it to such a terrible fate, and by the deeds sung in the song, Shape-Changing Woman recognized her own son.

Xetxetcha sang of the joy he had taken in tormenting animals and stealing their lives. He sang of his boastfulness and lust for blood. And finally he sang of his own death as he tried to murder Ananoi, and his mother wept at the deeds of her terrible son.

Then, when the song was done, the soul worm crawled back into the ground, seeking the Heart of Evil that would be its eternal tormentor, for it had no other choice. As the Idols heard Xetxetcha sing of his deeds and the grief that these evil deeds caused him, they both frowned, just as they do now.

Ananoi and Shape-Changing Woman were filled with sadness, and they stood for a long time in the moonlight, watching one another. "I killed your son," Ananoi said, "but I brought what I could back to you. First his body, then his spirit. Can you forgive me?"

Shape-Changing Woman wept fiercely, and the wind rushed for a moment as the goddess Zhofwa knelt and blew her kisses upon the couple. "I forgive you," Shape-Changing Woman said, and they fell in love and became man and wife.

Tull listened to the story with a certain reverie, wondering at it, for it was different in some ways from any that he had ever heard.

In Pwi stories, Ananoi was always named as a Pwi hero, not a Thrall or Okanjara, and the Thrall thought the red drones were sent to trap only the Slave Lords, whereas Tull knew that they were spaceships filled with alien machines that kept everyone caged on this world, and he smiled to think that they believed Ananoi had almost destroyed Bashevgo, instead of Phylomon.

Most of all, Tull was surprised to see that the Okanjara told stories about guilt and redemption. In form, this was a Pwi tale, even though these men bore little resemblance to the Pwi.

Tull felt a thrill of fear, and realized that if Tchupa was right, that within a year he might be fighting the armies of Craal beside these strange warriors in their skull masks. Suddenly Tull felt at peace with these men. He listened to them laugh and joke. No longer were they Okanjara, no longer were they so different.

A storm blew in, bringing first a boisterous wind and distant thunder, then a strong scent of water. The campfires guttered beneath the blast, and it began to rain.

Tull retreated into the tent where the young woman struggled to give birth, and two hours later the girl reached hard labor.

The baby was coming out breech and had its cord wrapped around it many times. Phylomon made Tull push the child back into the womb, turn it around so that it would come head first.

Tull hated the job. His hands felt so large and clumsy going into that small woman, and she screamed in pain.

"You take over," Tull said. "She is too small for me to get. It's these damned hands, these damned clumsy hands!"

"You are right," Phylomon said, coaching him. "The girl is too small to deliver easily. But your hands are not too large. This would hurt her in any case. I could do no better."

"You take over," Tull said in disgust.

"You are doing fine. We don't want my hands in there too-it would only heighten the risk of infection. Get on with it."

Tull went back to the work. The cord was wrapped around the child's shoulders and arms. With the cord cutting off the babe's breathing, Tull knew he had to get the babe out quickly if it was to live.

It was nearly sunrise when the child finally came. The eye of the storm had passed and it thundered and rained outside the tent. The babe's head came out blue, covered with the white cheese of a newborn. It tried to scream, but the girl quit pushing when it was only halfway. Tull grabbed the babe, shouted for the girl to push, but she was between contractions. He pulled gently.

Because the girl had never given birth before, her birth canal was not wide enough to let the child through-not with the cord wrapped around the child's shoulders. In desperation, Phylomon finally shouted "Pull," and Tull knew that if the child were to live, it would have to come now. He pulled the child, gently but firmly, and dragged the mother three feet. He heard some snapping sounds, and the child came through.

The child was purple and breathed only in shallow gasps, and Tull held it upside down and cleared its throat. The child took a lungful of air and screamed in pain. Its right arm hung at an odd angle, broken.

When Tull saw that the child would live, he checked its arm. It had a break in the clavicle, and dangled as if it had an extra joint. When he saw how badly he had mangled the baby's arm, Tull cursed himself and his eyes filled with tears.

"It will be alright," Phylomon said, "We can mend it. When they are this young, babe's heal fast."

Phylomon made a bandage and immobilized the broken limb. Tull's eyes filled with tears, and one of the women helped him from the tent.

It was morning already, with rose-colored skies. Tchupa and his men sat by the fire. Tchupa was moved to see Tull cry for an Okanjara, and he thanked Tull, patting him on the back, and other warriors gathered around and did the same.

Phylomon came out of the tent a moment later and spoke softly in Tull's ear. "You did well, as well as anyone could. I'd have done no better. If not for you, the child would have died. But the child will live. And the mother will live."

"Perhaps he should have died," Tull said. "To have the hands of a Neanderthal is bad enough. But with that break, the shoulder may grow arthritic. He might have only one hand."

"You are too hard on yourself," Phylomon said. "The arm will heal. But even if it doesn't, a man with one hand and willpower can seize the world by the throat."

"Perhaps if he had a human hand," Tull snorted in derision.

Phylomon grabbed Tull by the beard, jerked his head around, met his eyes, and said very slowly, "Tull Genet, I have spoken to Chaa, and he says that you-with one hand and willpower-can seize the world by the throat! Seize it, damn you!"