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danger was over, he took the fire from the tree and carried it back to his town. And other
people found the places he had set aflame during his flight and got some fire there. And
that s how fire came to the people of the world.
I see. This Rabbit sounds like quite a personality. Not many people would see
setting their heads on fire as a solution to a problem.
Well, I might not have done it that way either, the ghost eater admitted. But if
you ever see Rabbit, you must remember to treat him with the same respect that you
would treat your grandmother or granduncle with. No matter how foolish or arbitrary his
words seem, you must remember that he is an elder and an animal spirit. That s true for
any spirits you might meet.
I ll remember that, she said dryly, obviously not expecting to have to worry
about it.
He made no response. Gwendith still seemed to think one could either believe or
not believe in beings like Rabbit. The Rhylachans must have a strange way of relating
with their world, and even stranger ideas about how they fit in it. And, although she
hadn t said anything about it since their first meeting, he suspected that Stands-in-
Smoke felt something similar, not quite willing to accept as truth what seemed ordinary
to him. He sometimes thought that she humored him in hopes of being accepted among
the Ahkan it once they arrived back in the mountains.
Can I ask you something? Gwendith said after a few minutes of silence.
Of course. I ll teach you anything you care to know.
How do you fit in with all this talk of spirits? What is the bhargha?
All the brilliance seemed to go out of the sun. The memories he had tried to avoid
returned in a flood, leaving the taste of ashes on his lips. Perhaps the ashes were all
that was left of his heart.
The bhargha is a spirit, he said slowly, staring at the road ahead. Although the
weather was still cold, a few early flowers formed on trees and bushes, or poked their
heads up from the fallen leaves. For once they were passing through an area that
hadn t been cleared for farming, and tall oaks and hickories lifted bare branches against
the blue sky. A blush of purple heralded a redbud deeper in the forest. The time of the
eagle was almost over. Soon the time of the snake would come, and with it the planting
of crops, the flowering of fruit, the days when the sun lingered in her journey across the
sky.
The bhargha is sometimes called the Child of the Mountain. It comes from a
rock that we call coal.
She looked at him, puzzled. I don t understand.
How to explain? When& when a body that is to become a ghost eater is killed, it
is taken to a cave. There are several such caves throughout the mountains, some
natural, others made by Ahkan it long ago. The body is stripped of everything that had
once been alive bone ornaments, clothing, anything.
Why?
The bhargha has power over anything that lives or has ever lived. You ve seen
it it s how I destroyed your bonds the first night we met. The bhargha could touch the
rope fibers, break apart the tiny bits and pieces that used to make up the plant it was
taken from. It does the same thing when it heals this body, except that it causes the
flesh to grow instead of destroying it. There s a risk that the bhargha might move into
something other than the body a shell gorget, for example, or a bone bead.
Ah. She thought about that for a moment, clearly not really understanding.
Truth was, he didn t understand it very well himself. What happens after the body is left
in the cave, then?
No one knows exactly. There is a spirit that lives in the coal. Some say many
spirits, or maybe even the ghosts of dead things. Plants can be seen inside the rock
sometimes, and there are some who say that the coal was once alive somehow, that its
power comes from all the life inside it. The spirit in the stone comes into the body and
animates it, heals the death-wounds, and thus becomes the ghost eater.
And what does a ghost eater do?
He stared at the ground fixedly. Mostly, he s lonely, he whispered, almost too
low for her to hear. We aren t considered to be the people we were before death. We
have no kin, no lovers, nothing. And yet, every day we have to face our kin, our friends,
our loves, and pretend as if we have no ties to them.
That s very cruel.
He shrugged. As I said, it s believed that we truly aren t the people whose
bodies we wear. But I& I don t believe that. And I don t think that the old one does
either, even though he would never admit it. He cleared his throat against a sudden
lump. Maybe a long time ago it wasn t so bad. The ghost eaters fought for our people,
first and foremost. Back then, before the Rhylachans came, war and battle were
everything to us. We wandered where we would and fought those who would stand in
our way. War honors were a man s greatest achievement. Maybe the chance to become
a fearsome warrior, the most devastating of killers, seemed worth the sacrifice.
But not anymore.
No. He looked up, but not at her. Stands-in-Smoke calls us barbarians, he
said with a bitter laugh. But she s in for a surprise when we get home. We held the
mountains against the Enemies, but in the end we paid for it with our very identity. We
couldn't keep our wandering life there was nowhere to go. No more enemies to fight.
So we settled down in towns and started growing corn. We scorned the Hut Sitters, but
in the end we became just like them. They had their revenge against us and never even
knew it.
You can imagine that there isn t much for a ghost eater to do in such a world.
We remember some of the stories, and we tell them at dances and ceremonies. And
sometimes we hunt successfully and bring meat for the rest of the town to share. But
other than that, we just& sit. We aren t allowed to participate in town life, aren t even
allowed to have friends. There s only one ghost eater per town, except during the single
turn of the seasons when a ghost eater ready to die creates and trains his successor, so
we don t even have any of our own kind to talk with. So we just sit and let the memories
of our hearts eat at us, until in the end we go mad with longing.
She didn t say anything for a long time. Then, finally: I m sorry.
He shrugged. It s who I am. So, to answer your original question, we fit
somewhere in between. We re considered creatures of the Upper World we are
unchanging, stable, beings of strict boundaries and limits. That s opposed to the Under
World, the world of madness, disorder, change, fertility, and creativity. But the truth is,
we aren t either truly spirits or truly mortals. We have no place.
***
Gwendith sat in the thin shade of a cedar tree, eyes closed as she concentrated [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
danger was over, he took the fire from the tree and carried it back to his town. And other
people found the places he had set aflame during his flight and got some fire there. And
that s how fire came to the people of the world.
I see. This Rabbit sounds like quite a personality. Not many people would see
setting their heads on fire as a solution to a problem.
Well, I might not have done it that way either, the ghost eater admitted. But if
you ever see Rabbit, you must remember to treat him with the same respect that you
would treat your grandmother or granduncle with. No matter how foolish or arbitrary his
words seem, you must remember that he is an elder and an animal spirit. That s true for
any spirits you might meet.
I ll remember that, she said dryly, obviously not expecting to have to worry
about it.
He made no response. Gwendith still seemed to think one could either believe or
not believe in beings like Rabbit. The Rhylachans must have a strange way of relating
with their world, and even stranger ideas about how they fit in it. And, although she
hadn t said anything about it since their first meeting, he suspected that Stands-in-
Smoke felt something similar, not quite willing to accept as truth what seemed ordinary
to him. He sometimes thought that she humored him in hopes of being accepted among
the Ahkan it once they arrived back in the mountains.
Can I ask you something? Gwendith said after a few minutes of silence.
Of course. I ll teach you anything you care to know.
How do you fit in with all this talk of spirits? What is the bhargha?
All the brilliance seemed to go out of the sun. The memories he had tried to avoid
returned in a flood, leaving the taste of ashes on his lips. Perhaps the ashes were all
that was left of his heart.
The bhargha is a spirit, he said slowly, staring at the road ahead. Although the
weather was still cold, a few early flowers formed on trees and bushes, or poked their
heads up from the fallen leaves. For once they were passing through an area that
hadn t been cleared for farming, and tall oaks and hickories lifted bare branches against
the blue sky. A blush of purple heralded a redbud deeper in the forest. The time of the
eagle was almost over. Soon the time of the snake would come, and with it the planting
of crops, the flowering of fruit, the days when the sun lingered in her journey across the
sky.
The bhargha is sometimes called the Child of the Mountain. It comes from a
rock that we call coal.
She looked at him, puzzled. I don t understand.
How to explain? When& when a body that is to become a ghost eater is killed, it
is taken to a cave. There are several such caves throughout the mountains, some
natural, others made by Ahkan it long ago. The body is stripped of everything that had
once been alive bone ornaments, clothing, anything.
Why?
The bhargha has power over anything that lives or has ever lived. You ve seen
it it s how I destroyed your bonds the first night we met. The bhargha could touch the
rope fibers, break apart the tiny bits and pieces that used to make up the plant it was
taken from. It does the same thing when it heals this body, except that it causes the
flesh to grow instead of destroying it. There s a risk that the bhargha might move into
something other than the body a shell gorget, for example, or a bone bead.
Ah. She thought about that for a moment, clearly not really understanding.
Truth was, he didn t understand it very well himself. What happens after the body is left
in the cave, then?
No one knows exactly. There is a spirit that lives in the coal. Some say many
spirits, or maybe even the ghosts of dead things. Plants can be seen inside the rock
sometimes, and there are some who say that the coal was once alive somehow, that its
power comes from all the life inside it. The spirit in the stone comes into the body and
animates it, heals the death-wounds, and thus becomes the ghost eater.
And what does a ghost eater do?
He stared at the ground fixedly. Mostly, he s lonely, he whispered, almost too
low for her to hear. We aren t considered to be the people we were before death. We
have no kin, no lovers, nothing. And yet, every day we have to face our kin, our friends,
our loves, and pretend as if we have no ties to them.
That s very cruel.
He shrugged. As I said, it s believed that we truly aren t the people whose
bodies we wear. But I& I don t believe that. And I don t think that the old one does
either, even though he would never admit it. He cleared his throat against a sudden
lump. Maybe a long time ago it wasn t so bad. The ghost eaters fought for our people,
first and foremost. Back then, before the Rhylachans came, war and battle were
everything to us. We wandered where we would and fought those who would stand in
our way. War honors were a man s greatest achievement. Maybe the chance to become
a fearsome warrior, the most devastating of killers, seemed worth the sacrifice.
But not anymore.
No. He looked up, but not at her. Stands-in-Smoke calls us barbarians, he
said with a bitter laugh. But she s in for a surprise when we get home. We held the
mountains against the Enemies, but in the end we paid for it with our very identity. We
couldn't keep our wandering life there was nowhere to go. No more enemies to fight.
So we settled down in towns and started growing corn. We scorned the Hut Sitters, but
in the end we became just like them. They had their revenge against us and never even
knew it.
You can imagine that there isn t much for a ghost eater to do in such a world.
We remember some of the stories, and we tell them at dances and ceremonies. And
sometimes we hunt successfully and bring meat for the rest of the town to share. But
other than that, we just& sit. We aren t allowed to participate in town life, aren t even
allowed to have friends. There s only one ghost eater per town, except during the single
turn of the seasons when a ghost eater ready to die creates and trains his successor, so
we don t even have any of our own kind to talk with. So we just sit and let the memories
of our hearts eat at us, until in the end we go mad with longing.
She didn t say anything for a long time. Then, finally: I m sorry.
He shrugged. It s who I am. So, to answer your original question, we fit
somewhere in between. We re considered creatures of the Upper World we are
unchanging, stable, beings of strict boundaries and limits. That s opposed to the Under
World, the world of madness, disorder, change, fertility, and creativity. But the truth is,
we aren t either truly spirits or truly mortals. We have no place.
***
Gwendith sat in the thin shade of a cedar tree, eyes closed as she concentrated [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]