Sitefnut woke but did not open her eyes, listening to the sounds around her.
She heard a low murmur, the rumble of Raam's voice and Tetikare's quiet reply. Midnight watch, then. For some reason, the others had never assigned her to a watch, though of them all she needed the least sleep. Mayet was pressed against one side of her, and on the other side she felt Usi's bulk, his head resting on her hip.
She waited a few moments, to be sure she wasn't going to fall asleep again, and then sighed. She poked Usi; she knew he was awake from the alertness she felt in his mind. Move, she told him silently. I don't want to wake Mayet, she'll just insist on making me tea and trying to get me back into bed.
She needs a hobby. Or a husband. Usi lifted his head. I was about to get up anyway. It's about watch change, four hours before dawn. He rose and Sitefnut crawled out of the bedroll. Mayet murmured in her sleep and threw her arm across where her grandmother had just lain, displaying once again her habit of taking up all the available space wherever she slept. Sitefnut, in the dim light cast by the candles set in wall sconces, looked down at her granddaughter fondly.
I think she'll do just fine without a husband. Gods know I never figured out what all the fuss was about. Everyone makes noise about the naked part, but I'd rather have a mug of beer, it makes you feel better afterward.
Usi snorted softly. You had the wrong husband, then. He paused, and flicked his ears back and forth. Let's go.
Back door? she asked Usi, silently. He twitched his ear in response and turned towards the back entrance of the tomb, the one that was much easier to get in and out of for him.
They passed through the silent tomb, the mage's hand on her familiar's back, letting him guide her. They slipped out the back entrance, and Sitefnut stretched, welcoming the chill of the night air. "Where are you off to, then?" she asked Usi. "Hunting again?"
No. Other business. He hesitated, ears moving restlessly. Tell me. What's nearby?
The mage lifted her face to the wind, closing her eyes. The wind was coming from the west, from deeper in the desert. "A little smoke, still. Maybe a camel escaped from that caravan. Horses...wait." She sniffed deeply. "Something else. I'm not used to this yet, but it almost smells like...more hyenas? Here?"
Usi's mind-voice broke into a rich chuckle. It is lean hunting, but here there has been much death recently. It brings us. He raised his muzzle and let out a cackling cry, the sound carrying away across the desert. I have business. You may come, if you like. As it may concern you.
"What sort of business?"
The dead ones. I wish to know if they came from the local pack.
She considered her familiar, the light of a crescent moon silvering his fur and shadowing his eyes. She could not guess whether he truly wanted her to join him, but on the balance she was awake and would likely sleep no more that night, and if nothing else watching Usi interact with his kind might prove interesting. "I'll come. Is there anything I need to know?"
Do not touch them unless they touch you first. Follow my lead. The hyena turned and began to walk westward, pausing to raise his eerie call once more.
They had been walking for about fifteen minutes when a stray breeze brought a heavy scent of hyena. The sere landscape could have hidden nothing, she would have sworn, but all around her melted into being dark ungainly forms, circling her and Usi, silent except for harsh breathing.
Usi stopped walking, his head held high. Where is First? I come to speak to First.
One of the pack that surrounded them made an odd sound, a high whine. A male wishes to speak to First? Who walks with a tailless? Sitefnut started as she discovered she could understand the hyena, read its speech in pose and movement. She assumed Usi was translating for her, as she watched.
A male. A male who walks with Chosen. A male who is Rememberer. The pack froze in place. Usi shook his head, and the golden collar around his neck glittered in the moonlight. I will speak with First.
A growl from behind them. Pack, away. That voice had a female tinge to it, and paws crunched on sand and gravel as the owner of it circled them. The rest backed off, settling down, ears and noses pointed towards where the hyena who Sitefnut gathered was named First stalked up to them.
The hyena was taller at the shoulder than Usi by three hand-widths, and she looked as if she outweighed him by quite a bit. The moonlight revealed badly scarred muzzle and flanks, and a tail that appeared to have had the last half foot or so cut off at some point. Rememberer. The story continues.
Until to the Dreamtime we return. He walked forward, holding his head just a little bit lower than hers. The hyenas touched noses briefly, and blew breath into each other's nostrils. Greeting satisfied, Usi returned to sit next to Sitefnut.
This is Chosen? You have been remiss in your teaching, Rememberer. Chosen does not greet.
Chosen is new-made. Patience. Next time you see it, First, Chosen will greet.
It had better. This was accompanied by a low growl, not quite threatening. What do you want, Rememberer? There is horse nearby. Will be good hunting. First looked directly into Sitefnut's eyes, and the mage found herself astonished by the awareness she found there--not necessarily intelligence, but something else. Does Chosen hunt, if Chosen wishes?
Usi nudged Sitefnut's leg. She set her mouth, and tried to speak in the hyena's tongue. Somehow-when. Land-rich. Mind-hunt.
First barked with what was unmistakably a laugh. Chosen speaks like a pup! And Chosen knows not what it says.
Usi broke in, Chosen is new-made. But it has a point. I come on mind-hunt, story-trail.
The large hyena lowered its muzzle slightly. Such is the business of Rememberer. Pack recalls.
Pack had better! Usi's tone was unexpectedly sharp, and accompanied by a snap of his heavy jaws at the air. Immediately, First dropped to her belly, stretching her chin along the ground. The pack ringed around them followed suit. Usi blew out an irritated breath. Up, First. No more annoyances. I wish to know who of Pack has gone missing.
First rose again, sniffing at the air meditatively. Since whelping--three pups. One-eye. Rockscar. Burned. Notch-ear. Footless. Twomother. Point. Whitethroat.
This hunt?
One-eye, Burned, Notch-ear, Whitethroat, Footless. Pack was sleeping during the day. Notch-ear was watching. When Pack woke, they were gone. Her tone did not indicate any particular emotion, neither regret nor sadness. It was simply what it was. Sitefnut found herself wondering if hyenas grieved. It will be added to the story.
The story will remember. Usi lifted his muzzle. None else?
None. What story-trail do you follow, Rememberer?
I am walking with Chosen. Usi looked sidelong at Sitefnut. Chosen walks with the living, and the dead hunt it. Chosen is part of the story of Cruel-voice, I scent.
First growled low in her throat. Cruel-voice is not one of Pack's stories, except the part that Footless brought with it. But it is a bone-crack story. Full of the screams of tailless.
And the whines of pups den-stolen. Not a story I would have walked, but for Chosen.
Then fair hunting to you, Rememberer. Pack must hunt before Ra unfurls his wings. First bowed her heavy head, then turned. Pack! We go. She loped away, hyenas falling in behind her, loping toward the west.
Usi's voice was quiet. Business is done, Sitefnut. Let's go before we're missed.
As they walked back toward the tomb, Sitefnut asked, "Did you find out what you wanted?"
All five were from the local pack. Whoever sent that message was here, if briefly.
"Ah. And why is your name Rememberer, and mine Chosen?"
Because it is what we are. I belong to no pack, but remember stories from them all. I will let you discover why you are Chosen for yourself, I think. And I need to teach you pack etiquette. This is probably not the only time we will run into a pack. I have promised you will be more mannerly the next time you meet. The laughter in his mind's voice was back. And I must teach you to speak more clearly. Without a tail, you will always have an atrocious accent, but at least you could enunciate.
Sitefnut glared at Usi. "I could only go on what you were translating for me. I'd never had occasion to speak to a pack of hyenas before!"
The hyena sniffed. I was not translating. You understood perfectly well on your own.
She stopped in her tracks. "You weren't translating for me? But how did I understand them?"
He pointed his muzzle towards the moon, laughing what she was beginning to think of as his midnight laugh; dark, rich, full of the enjoyment of his own cleverness. We are bound, Sitefnut. We are so tangled up in each other that we will never be free while we live, and that tangle only grows deeper. You wonder what I am, but perhaps the better question is, what are you becoming?
"And do you know the answer to that question?" Her black eyes held a dark suspicion.
You hold it in your hands. Or, rather, the elf holds it in his. You enjoy mysteries, familiar. Add that to the list.
They walked the rest of the way back to the tomb in silence.
