Unkoostika III

Here's the last part of this long, short story of mine. Its 2,064 words, nearly 600 less than the last part. From now on I'll put down what audience would enjoy the story the most....no more thrillers with no warning!
Next week's story will appeal to mall shoppers....and no body dies. Honest!

Unkoostika
Part III

“No! No! Nooooo….”

Sitka crashed about in the river beneath the glacier, doing anything to stay above water. Soon his jaw froze, and the most protest he offered was his chattering teeth. A waterfall roared ahead in the dark, but the boy didn’t care.

He shut his eyes the blackness and wished more than anything that Kenai, Grandfather, or even father was there. The river bed disappeared and he toppled through space.


Unkoostika scaled the ice cliff and sniffed the ground. His head snapped upward and fixed on the river below. Was it possible one boy could be so stupid?

“Unkoostika!”

Saami’s spear hissed upward, its ivory-like tip glinting. The uncles shook their weapons as it struck its mark, but triumph died on their lips. The monster’s bony hand caught the spear point as it protruded from his ribs, yanking it through.

Unkoostika spun round and hurdled the spear like a thunderbolt. Saami tried to prevent what happened next, too late. The weapon made a soft thudding sound as it pierced layers of warm clothing, and quivered in Knuckle’s chest. Knuckle’s spear dropped to his side, and he stared at the shaft. He swayed and smiled weakly at his brothers.

“This is going to hurt in a minute….”

Saami caught him and his brothers helped lower Knuckle to the ice. Sweat lined his brow and his grip tightened on his spear. Knuckle’s eyes riveted on the spear in his chest as he whispered, “I always liked you, Saami, and your boy, and all of you,” he struggled to grin, “A moment ago…I was completely happy. By the way, brother,” he turned to Saami, “you know all the hours you spent sharpening your spear? You did good work…BELIEVE me!”

He gasped and screwed his eyes shut, “You know what?” he sighed, “I wish I had salmon right now. Did we bring any?”

His head rested on the ice and the brother’s stood in revered silence.

Shrill laughter shattered Knuckle’s moment of peace. “Father! Father!” someone mocked, “A monster’s got me by the throat! He’s drawing back his talons to strike!”

An eagle shriek reverberated about the icy barren land. Saami and his brothers stared all around, weapons at the ready.

“Come find me if you dare!” Unkoostika cackled, and the men of the Inuit clan grimaced.
“After him!” Saami roared. He pried Knuckle’s fingers around his spear loose, clenched it between his teeth, and scurried up the ice cliff.


Sitka dreamed of glaciers falling on him and he moaned. Presently his eyes cracked open; he was alive! He sat up slowly and held his aching head. The glacier towered a hundred or so feet away, its river gushing forth. He looked up and down the beach he’d washed up on, and felt the silt between his fingers.

The boy tried remembering what Grandfather said about silt. He’d said it was little pieces of rock the glacier ground to powder. It followed the river wherever it went making sand-like beaches and clouding the water.

Had Grandfather said something else? Yes! Sometimes the silt suctioned onto a person and held him….

He sprang to his feet and found a rock to sit on. Sitka brushed the silt from his clothes, and held his face in his hands as he studied the river.

He’d crossed the glacier, and the only thing separating him and the Hunting Plains was a narrow path along a cliff. He glanced at the sun; he’d been unconscious awhile. Sweat coursed down his back and he looked about for his spear. He laughed and shook his head; he hadn’t let go of it when he went down the river!

Sitka dropped the shaft, and noticed how white his knuckles were. There was his spear, he was still ahead of his father, and the Hunting Plains weren’t far away. Suddenly he realized he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to be loved like a child more than respected as a man.

Tears dripped off his nose and the silt soaked up the drops. Sitka’s head shut up suddenly; something moved in the forest. He listened; brush moved again. He reached for his spear, dried his eyes, and crept toward the forest crouched over.

The vegetation was thick, but he saw the hide of something large. What luck! He didn’t need to go to the Hunting Ground, not with something right here. He brushed mud off the spear tip, drew back as his father showed him, and took aim. He waited on the edge of the forest a whole minute for the caribou to show its hide again.

The boy didn’t know how far it was, but that hardly mattered. Sitka heaved with all his might and cheered as something groaned.

“Got ya’!”

He didn’t have time to inspect his prey. Branches snapped and brush flattened beneath a bull moose’s hooves. Sitka’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth as the monster shook its antlers and bellowed. The boy stepped aside just as the creature exploded pass, spear stuck in his hunches.

Sitka’s legs shook beneath him as he darted away, and the ground trembled beneath him. The moose’s snorts and bellows gained on the boy, and he remembered something Grandfather told him.

He ducked into the forest, running through anything in his way and snapping branches that got in his face. He weaved in and out of the thin trees, and the crashing behind grew more distant. The next minute he was alone in the forest. Sunlight cast brilliant rays through slits in the foliage overhead and lit the leaf-strewed earth and mossy rocks.

Sitka sunk to his knees and screwed his eyes shut. Tears dropped onto his clenched fists and he sobbed brokenly.

“I can’t even make a kill!” he struck the ground and lowered his head.

How could his father accept him after all his trouble and his son couldn’t do the simples thing? Who would think he was a man? How could he bear Kenai looking up to him when he was nothing?

Sitka staggered to his feet hours later. He shook his blurred vision and focused ahead. A mountain trail hill towered ahead, a cave gaping in its side.

“Sitka!”

Father! The boy wanted to go and cry on his shoulder and say he was sorry a thousand times….he couldn’t. His father couldn’t forgive him, and Sitka didn’t expect him to.

He sprinted to the cave in the cliff, tripping over logs and rocks in the darkness. How long had he been crying?

Darkness shrouded the cave interior and the boy knelt behind a moss-covered boulder. He clasped a hand over his mouth and the cave fell silent.

His father’s and uncle’s calls seemed to shake the mountain. Sitka pressed against the rock at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He didn’t want his father to find him, but he didn’t want the owner of that voice to find him either. He couldn’t make out exact words, but the stranger seemed to be taunting.

Silence.

Sitka felt the veins throb on his head. Still nothing. He sighed and slid down the boulder, rubbing his sweaty hands together.

“Sitka!” the boy stood and peered into the dark, “It’s me…Kenai! I’m scared. Come to me.”

Resolve vanished in Sitka. Someone needed him! He raced into the moonlight, tripped on rocks and sprang to his feet without glancing at his hands.

“Where are you!?”

“Over here!” Kenai squealed, “Come quickly.”

Sitka dashed toward the dark forest where the voice came from, ignoring the calls of his father and uncles.

“It’s a trap! Sitka! It’s a traaaaap!”

The boy weaved in and out of the trees, gasping, “I’m sorry I didn’t stop today….I was wrong to run off.”

“I forgive you.” The voice exclaimed to the left.

Sitka peered into the darkness, espying a black figure in a moonlit clearing. The boy rushed forward, oblivious of a talon at the figure’s side that caught the moonlight.

Sitka reached out to grab Kenai’s shoulder; everything happened too quickly for him to see. An eagle shriek pierced his ears and his lips convulsed as the robed figure seized the boy and stared at him with twin golden eyes.

“Fein!” Saami roared as he and his brothers stormed into the clearing with torches lit and spears drawn.

Unkoostika shoved Sitka to his knees and ripped his head upward by the hair and prickled his neck with a talon. “Come closer, little warriors!” the monster shrieked and clacked his beak, “I’ll kill him if you approach!”

Saami’s face clenched in the torchlight and he lowered his spear. The uncles slowly complied with a motion from Sitka’s father.

“What would you take for the boy?” Saami growled.

Unkoostika tickled Sitka’s throat, “What do you have to offer?” he clacked his beak and his eyes glinted in the shadow of his hood.

“Let the boy go,” Saami breathed hard, “and you can have me instead.”

The monster craned his neck and shrieked to the moon. “You have a bargain!” he cackled and kicked Sitka away. “Come to me!”

Saami rushed forward and hugged his son. Sitka choked tears and pounded his father’s back.

“Don’t do it!” he screamed, “I deserve this!”

Unkoostika seized Saami before he could reply. Talons flashed in the moonlight and Saami groaned and held his chest as he fell. Sitka shrunk away in horror as the monster kicked his father, and laughed wickedly.

“Unkoostika!”

Lin roared as he bounded into the clearing. The monster turned as the man plucked a torch from an uncle and drew his sword in the same movement. Spears flew from the uncle’s hands as Lin hurdled the torch at the creature.

An anguished scream shook the stars as Unkoostika’s robe burst into flames. He caught the two spears in midair and thrust it at Lin. Lin chopped the weapon in two and laughed.

“Murdering children is easier, isn’t it?!”

Unkoostika threw his robe aside, and the flaming mass landed on Saami. The monster stood as a skeleton with an eagle’s head and talons; nothing more. Sitka dashed into the combatant’s ring and tried putting out the flames on his father. Unkoostika’s beak widened to nip Sitka’s neck, but Lin kicked so hard the creature flew backward and landed on it’s hunches.

The uncles charged, and Unkoostika leapt to his feet. His eyes burned scarlet, but he backed away with a spear clutched in his talons. The spear whistled as he thrust it at Lin, but the samurai cleaved the weapon in half from the spear’s point down to Unkoostika’s hand.

The monster clutched his hand and the light faded from his eyes as he saw his talon hit the ground. Lin charged with a war cry beyond the sea, aiming a sweeping blow at the monster’s neck.

Unkoostika raked the samurai across the face, somersaulted over the uncles as they swung sticks, and disappeared into the darkness. His bones clattered shakily, and then silence.

Lin touched his face and examined the blood. “Stay here.” He ordered the uncles, “None of you’ve seen the last of him. We have his robe, and without it he’ll slowly wither and grow weaker. That’s the only reason he ran.”

One of the uncles examined the cleaved talon between his fingers, wincing as he tested its tip. “How do you know that?”

Lin wiped the blood off his face with a sleeve and smiled wryly, “Don’t you listen to Grandfather?”

Saami’s chest heaved gently and Sitka examined his wound. Unkoostika cut deep, but missed the heart. Lin walked up behind, wincing as pain started along his cuts. “Stand up, boy.” the samurai ordered.

Sitka hesitated before rising slowly. His knees trembled as his uncles and Lin stared down.

“My son is dead….and much of it is your fault.” Sitka’s jaw dropped and he shook, “You owe me a son, boy. All of us have a claim on you now. So what are you going to do?”

Sitka cleared his throat and tried speaking, cleared it again and whispered, “I’ll be a son before I try being a man.”

Lin nodded and patted his shoulder. The uncles embraced the boy and he shook like a leaf, crying so hard his throat ached.

“Your father will live!” the uncles comforted, “and someday Unkoostika will come for his talon and cloak, what’s left of it.”