As swiftly as my control of the body had come, it went. Soldier’s Boy gave a sudden gasp as if he had been holding his breath.
“What do you want from me?” he demanded of the god in a low growl. I felt the anger that seethed through him, that for even a moment, his control had been lost.
“Oh, this is tedious,” the bird replied. He put his head down and for some moments worried flesh from the fish carcass, snapping it up in lumps. He was silent for so long that I thought he had gone back to being a bird rather than a god. Then he spoke again. “There is nothing amusing in having to repeat myself. For the last time, Nevare Burvelle and whoever else is sharing that skin you walk in: you owe me. This is your last chance to amuse me by taking the choice into your own hands. What will you give me? A death or a life?”
Soldier’s Boy stared, transfixed, at the croaker and I shared his gaze. I had no answer and I dreaded that Soldier’s Boy might speak for me.
We were saved or perhaps condemned in the next moment. Likari spoke from the door of the lodge. “Great One, the fire is ready for cooking.” His voice shook slightly.
Soldier’s Boy made no response.
And in the next instant, Likari darted at Orandula, waving a stick of firewood at the bird-god and shouting, “Go on! Shoo! Stop stealing our fish, you old robber bird!”
To my surprise, the croaker bird snatched up the fish and took flight. He lifted his wings wide and flapped them heavily, scarcely keeping ahead of the small boy pursuing him with the stick. It would have been laughable, if the bird had been only a bird.
Once the bird had gained a safe perch, he set the fish down on the branch and put one possessive foot firmly on top of it. He crouched low over it, peering down at the boy with his wings half opened. “The boy!” he croaked. “Yes, the boy. You could give him to me to discharge the debt. What do you say, Nevare, not-Nevare? Which do I get? His life? Or his death?”
Horror chilled me and my other self seemed likewise shocked to stillness. And again Likari reacted before either of us, sending the piece of firewood spinning up. It clacked loudly against the bird’s perch. “Go away!” he shouted at it. “You are bothering the Great Man and I am his feeder! Go away!”
“My turn to choose!” the bird cawed. Then he caught the fish up in his beak. He lifted off the branch, made one swooping pass through our midst, causing Likari to duck like a mouse before an owl’s dive, and then, beating his wings swiftly, the bird vanished into the darkening forest.
“There. I scared him away!” Likari announced. He spoke with a boy’s bravado, but his voice shook slightly.
Soldier’s Boy was hoarse as he asked, “Frightened of a bird, Likari?”
“No. But I could tell you did not like him. And I thought to myself, ‘It is my duty as a feeder to make sure that no one and nothing disturbs the Great Man.’ And so I came to chase him off for you. And to tell you that the coals are ready for cooking the meat.”
“You are a very fine feeder indeed,” Soldier’s Boy told him, and the sincerity in his voice could not be mistaken. “And I thank you for driving the bird away. He was bothering me.”
The boy’s chest swelled. “If he returns, I shall kill him for you. But for now, we should cook our food. The coals are ready.”
“Then let us cook,” Soldier’s Boy agreed. I thought perhaps he would tell Likari more or at least warn the boy to be wary of croaker birds, but he did not. He helped the boy carry the meat and fish into the lodge. They cooked the meat on spits over the fire and baked the fish on the hearthstones beside it. They cracked and ate nuts companionably while the cooking meat filled the lodge with wonderful smells. They both ate heavily, with Likari trying to defer to Soldier’s Boy and Soldier’s Boy insisting that the lad should eat heartily and “get a belly to be proud of.” He set an example for the boy, stuffing himself until I was amazed he could force another bite down. They ate the meat right down to the bones. These the boy carried a short distance from the lodge and dumped. Afterward, they both walked down to the stream and washed before Likari filled up their water skin again.
The night was deep and cool around them. Through the thick evergreen canopy, a few stars were visible. The light that spilled from the lodge’s windows and door barely reached to the stream. They walked back carefully in the gloom. “I need to build a door for the lodge. And get some coverings for the windows before the winter rains come in earnest.”
“Tomorrow?” the boy asked in dismay.
“Oh, no. Tomorrow is for fishing. And eating. There will be no other chores but those until we go to join Olikea at the Trading Place. Making the lodge ready for winter can wait until we come back.” I caught a faint thought from the edge of his mind. If he were successful, if he impressed them sufficiently, he wouldn’t have to bother with such things. Other people would feel honored to worry about them for him.