The First Jumper (first draft version)

The First Jumper 42: Shusgool

Little Bear held his father in his arms, as Raccoon struggled to draw one more breath.  The spear that was embedded in his chest pointed off to the stars in the vast sky.  

Little Bear was taken back to the loss of his home planet, with all his family and friends still on it, the deaths of Camel and Cave Bear, and every loss he had ever experienced.

Raccoon had been the only human family Little Bear had ever known.  Even though life in the tribe was harsh and short, Raccoon had been an eternal fixture.

Raccoon was looking at Little Bear and trying to say something, but he could not get any air out to say it.

Little Bear leaned close to his father, straining to hear.

"Live," his father said, and then he fell back, dead.

Little Bear sat there for a short eternity, his mind blank, his world in chaos, until a gentle hand on his shoulder brought his head around.

"Lie down," Thunder said, and pulled Little Bear back.  "I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can do for him.  Lie down, and let me look at your side."

Briar was with her, reaching into her medicine pouch, as the world around Little Bear faded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Bear woke in daylight beside the fire, and looked around.  There was a smell of death in the air, but there did not seem to be any bodies lying around.

Thunder was beside him.  Across from her sat a person unlike any Little Bear had ever seen.  He thought it might be a woman, from her slight build and lack of beard, although she did not seem to have much in the way of a woman's curves.

The strangest things about her were her hair and face.  Her hair was the color of thunder clouds, a dirty gray.  Her face was covered in wrinkles.

"What are you?" Little Bear whispered.  He had never seen a human being with so much as a single wrinkle.  He thought she must be some kind of demon from the old stories, not human at all.

"I am Shusgool the ancient one, little hunter.  I watch everything and know all."  She cackled toothless mirth.  "I kept this tribe alive and strong through the long winters,”  and then her face changed to anger, “until you came along to kill them all."

Little Bear started to sit up, but pain in his side forced him to lie back.

"The fire curse has started to eat you, I see," the woman said in satisfaction.  "I will watch you die slowly, young warrior.  You killed the last of my sons, but I will laugh while you scream in pain."

"Shut up, old woman," said Briar, coming back to sit down with her.  "This is Little Bear.  We could not have won without him."

"Little Bear, Little Bear, Little Bear!" laughed the old woman.  "I have put the fire curse on Little Bear, and I will watch it eat him up."

"You will take off the curse!" said Briar, pulling out her knife.

"You know I cannot, Briar," said the old woman.

Briar stood up and stepped back.  "How do you know my name?"

The old woman laughed again, more softly.  "Do you remember your mother?"

Briar looked at her a few moments, then said, "Yes.  She was killed by wolves when I was a child."

"Aster, right?"

"How did you know that?" demanded Briar.

"Aster was my daughter," said the old woman.  "I taught her how to be a witch, how to heal and how to curse, and as soon as she had learned all she could, she ran off with her child to another tribe."