We crouched down as low as we could manage. I grasped my mother's hand tightly, trying to control the fear that was bubbling up my throat. She looked between me and Wake, her brow creased.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why are we hiding from hoaks? Aren't they harmless?"
"They can be," Wake explained, speaking even quieter. "These aren't."
She motioned for us to stop talking, and we complied. We sat in breathless silence, listening for any sign of their arrival.
I could feel Wake growing tense next to me. I strained to hear something—anything. However, there were no rustling leaves, no scuff of dirt, nor brush of branches. I knew they must be drawing closer, but my ears couldn't detect the approach.
Wake's body grew so taut that I worried she would hurt herself. Her reaction instilled in me a gravity that hadn't been there before.
When we had spoken near the river, Wake had seemed so casual about the conflict that was taking place on the mountain. She had insisted that it wasn't a war, she had openly healed us. She hadn't tried to hide the fact that she was helping us to find the herbs.
Now, all of that disappeared.
She looked like a deer that had been caught with a cliff at its back—nowhere to hide, danger closing in.
Mother wrapped her arms around me, hugging my head to her chest. I could hear her heartbeat thumping next to my ear. I tried my best to swallow, but even the muscles in my throat felt paralyzed.
The only thing that broke through the overwhelming fear that enveloped my mind was the sudden sensation that I was being watched.
My anxiety spiked as I saw Wake's eyes fixed on a spot above our heads. I followed her stare, expecting to see some sort of monster hovering over us.
Instead, I spotted a creature less than twelve inches (30 cm) tall. It squatted on a low branch of a tree, regarding us with large eyes. It was humanoid in form, except it was rough and angular like an unfinished statue. Its skin looked like black quartz, speckled and veined with white, and its eyes shone like crystals.
Its expression appeared distinctly undecided, like it was weighing its options.
Our eyes locked and I experienced a strange jolt of familiarity. I had definitely never seen that creature before, but I felt like I knew it. It was as if I had walked into Aunt Theophana's house after being away, and it had been redecorated. Familiar, but new.
"Please, help us hide," I mouthed to the creature.
It cocked its head to the side but didn't respond. After what seemed like an eternity, the creature turned and hopped off the branch. It disappeared in the air before it hit the ground.
Wake gasped quietly.
"What is it?" Mother breathed. Her eyes were wide and frantic.
Wake shook her head, motioning for silence. We continued to wait, our hearts racing in our chests. I thought I might faint from lightheadedness.
I didn't notice any change in our surroundings but Wake suddenly let out a sigh of relief. "They're gone."
"What happened?" Mother demanded. Her voice was shaking. "What is going on?"
Wake's eyes narrowed as they turned to me. "That hoak shielded us from the others."
My mother rubbed my hands between hers, more to comfort herself than me. "Why would it do that?"
The water tiernan shook her head. "I don't know."
"I asked it to help us," I admitted. "Do you think that made a difference?"
Wake's eyes widened. "It listened to you?"
"What does that mean?" Mother asked, starting to look frustrated.
She got to her feet, urging us to do the same. We continued on our path, moving quickly and quietly. "Hoaks that are bound to another creature will follow the instructions of their master, no matter what. If that hoak had been bonded, it wouldn't have listened to you even if you begged."
I hopped over a log that had fallen across the path. "So, that hoak wasn't bound?"
Wake's nose scrunched. "Well… Hoaks that aren't bonded to another creature tend to be rather chaotic. They love mischief but rarely direct it at their own kind. After all, why target someone who can easily retaliate?"
"Therefore, the hoak didn't hide us as a prank on the other hoaks," Mother concluded.
"Exactly," Wake agreed. "But that leaves us with the question of why. Why did that hoak shield us?"
"Maybe it likes us," I suggested innocently.
Wake snorted. "That doesn't seem likely. We are strangers to it and, like the nokk, it doesn't know whose side we're on."
My mother rubbed her forehead. "I don't understand this conflict. What sides are you talking about? What is happening on this mountain?"
The water tiernan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I suppose the simplest way to explain is that there are two main factions of non-humans. One faction wishes to dedicate our resources to isolating the mountain from any human contact. The opposing faction believes this to be harmful to the natural order."
I gave a short laugh. "I don't think that's a problem. The humans around here don't want anything to do with tiernan anyway."
Mother shook her head. "It isn't just that the tiernan that would be isolated. If a river is cut off from the valleys, think of the impact on the farms. What will people do if they can't get trees to build homes? What if there are no animals to hunt? No herbs for medicine?"
Wake nodded. "The humans rely on this mountain for many things."
"Oh," I said softly.
"The isolationist faction doesn't care about the impact on humans. In fact, they think this is an additional benefit to their plan," Wake went on. "Furthermore, there are groups within that faction that have already started using violence against any human that ventures up the mountain."
"Like the nokk?" I asked.
Wake smiled faintly. "Well, the nokk was just hungry. It wasn't thinking about other things."
We came upon a break in the trees where there was a large open area. Wake immediately shook her head and changed our path to go around.
I, too, felt more comfortable staying under the cover of the trees.
"So the tiernan are fighting with each other?" I went on.
Wake laughed. "Not fighting in the way you mean it. We aren't humans, Tiff. We don't use weapons to try and kill one another."
"What does this 'conflict' entail, then?" Mother inquired.
The water tiernan pursed her lips. "That is not easy to explain."
I thought that she would try, but she didn't. Instead, a momentary quiet fell over our group.
I picked up a stick and used it to tap on the tree trunks we passed. "Why is it dangerous on the mountain if the tiernan aren't hurting each other?"
"It's dangerous for you," she emphasized. "No human is safe, nor those who share human blood."
I picked up a second stick and started tapping them together in a rhythm. "I guess you're in the second faction since you're not trying to kill us."
Mother flinched at my flippant words, but she didn't reprimand me for being impolite. Wake, on the other hand, reached over to ruffle my hair.
"I'm not part of either faction. I belong to a smaller group that is staying out of the conflict."
"That's a good idea," I approved.
Wake grinned. "I think so, too."
It was getting later in the day. Mother was scanning the sky with a worried expression on her face. "I think we should start looking for a place to take shelter for the night."
Our guide nodded. "Yes, let's find a fold."
I started skipping in a circle. "What's a fold?"
"It's like a cave, but smaller," my mother explained. "It's like a single room, with a small entrance that's easy to protect."
I giggled. "Oh, like the ground has been folded!"
She smiled. "Yes, that's right."
Wake looked at me with searching eyes. "If you were to guess where to find a fold, what would you say?"
I tilted my head, glancing over our surroundings. "Hmmmm," I mused.
I didn't have any real knowledge of the matter, so I just went with instinct. Most of the places I looked just didn't feel right, so I let my eyes slide over them. There was one direction to the south that piqued my interest, but only mildly.
"That way, maybe," I said, pointing.
Wake immediately started walking. "Let's go that way, then."
Mother's eyes widened. "Is she able to sense them?"
She shrugged. "It's difficult to know which traits she has inherited. Anything that her father is able to do is a possibility for her."
I made an excited noise. "What else could my father do?"
"I don't know everything," Wake admitted. "Tiernan don't really go around comparing abilities."
"He could help plants to grow," Mother volunteered. "He could also shape wood."
"And change his own shape, right?" I added.
Wake nodded. "All tiernan can change their form. Shifters are the most common non-humans."
I frowned, pausing from gathering some nuts I'd spotted. "Shifters are tiernan?"
She grinned. "All tiernan are shifters, but not all shifters are tiernan. It's like if I say something broad like 'birds.' There are lots of types of birds, but they are all still called birds."
"What other things are shifters?" I pressed.
She took a deep breath. "Oh, there are many. Tiernan, nokken, kags, hoaks, fae, maras, metis, puca, kerlan, nhang, huli'i…"
My jaw dropped. "I've never heard of most of those!"
Wake chuckled. "I don't doubt that. Most of them prefer to live far from humans."
"Would you tell me about all of them?" I begged.
"I suppose," she agreed.
We walked for about another hour in the direction I had chosen. Wake kept me entertained with descriptions of different kinds of shifters—their preferred environments, their abilities, and so forth. Then, without thinking about it, I came to an abrupt stop.
"There it is," I declared.
I pointed to a hole in the ground that was overgrown with vines and moss. Wake clapped me on the shoulder.
"Well done!"
She crawled into the hole with no hesitation, but Mother held out her hand to hold me back. Together we waited for Wake to reappear at the opening.
"It's safe," she assured us. "A little muddy, but it will be a good place to spend the night."
The light was rapidly fading, so Mother urged me to go in. I crawled through the hole, feeling the moist dirt press around my fingers. I soon found myself on stone, which was cold and damp. The fabric of my clothing soaked up the moisture from the ground, giving me a sudden chill.
A sharp pain lanced through my forehead as I unexpectedly came to the end of the fold. "Ow!" I cried.
I could hear Wake guffaw next to me. "Careful, it's not very deep."
Mother's warm hands rubbed my head. "Are you hurt?"
"No," I grumbled.
"I think I should be the one nearest to the opening," suggested Wake. "I'll keep watch."
Mother didn't protest, so I didn't either. She and I settled down next to each other, snuggling close to keep warm.
We emptied our pouches of all the food we'd gathered throughout the afternoon. There were nuts, berries, mushrooms, and wild vegetables aplenty. We offered some to Wake, but she shook her head.
"I receive nourishment in a different manner," she stated without further explanation.
We ate all of our food raw since we couldn't build a fire. One of the nice things about living the way that we did was that it made any food acceptable. Neither of us were picky eaters—we couldn't afford to be. My stomach wasn't empty, so I was satisfied.
I leaned against my mother, resting my head on her shoulder. I wasn't physically tired, but I was getting sleepy.
"That hoak is following us," Wake murmured.
My eyes popped open. "What?"
Her silhouette was visible from the dim light coming in from the outside. She used her chin to point toward the trees. "He's watching us from over there."
"The one that helped us?" I asked.
She nodded.
"You can see it?" Mother whispered.
"No," the tiernan answered, "but I know he's there."
I crawled over to sit next to Wake, trying to peek out from the fold. "What's he doing?"
"Nothing…yet."
I scanned the trees, finally spotting a pair of glittering eyes. "There he is," I said, pointing.
Wake raised her eyebrows as she followed my gaze to the hoak. "Impressive," she commented.
"Are we in danger?" Mother's voice trembled ever so slightly.
Wake hesitated before answering. "I'm not sure."
"I don't think so," I said, even though I had no evidence to support my opinion.
Once again, the water tiernan studied me thoughtfully. "Have you ever seen that hoak before?"
My brow furrowed as I searched my memory. "I don't think I have," I replied, "but it feels like I have. Do you know what I mean?"
"Actually, I do," Wake said, turning back to face the opening.
Mother reached over to give a gentle tug on my sleeve. I obediently returned to her side. "What should we do now?" she asked quietly.
"Go to sleep," Wake instructed. "I will keep watch."
"Don't worry, Mother," I urged her, patting her knee. "That hoak won't hurt us. We'll find the medicine tomorrow, and we'll go home."
She put her arm around my shoulder. "How do you know?"
I closed my eyes instead of answering her.
It wasn't that I knew (in a logical sense) that things would work out. I had just learned to trust my instincts when they were so clear. I knew then that everything would be fine, just as I would know later when things would not.