begin!”
“Wouldn’t it be better to do it tomorrow?” Trickster said, reflecting that racing now was rather unfair after all the walking he had done that day.
Again Yeves gave his sinister wolf chuckle, which made it sound as though a legion of wolves laughed from the shadows. Trickster shuddered and let his remaining protests resound in his mind.
Yeves led him to the top of the mountain, where the thin air turned Trickster dizzy but bolstered his courage somewhat.
Yeves seated himself at the edge. “Jump, mortal. I shall give you a head start.”
Cursing Deft Hands with all his might, Trickster flung himself from the pinnacle.
Yeves’s howl resounded through the whole sky as though the heavens were a mere cavern where even a child’s voice might sound impressive. As Trickster plummeted, the wind ripping the scream from him so swiftly he could not hear it, the wolf surpassed him. Trickster gaped, attempted futilely to modify his flight so the god would lose the advantage he had already seized. He was so intent on how he might get ahead of the wolf that without warning, frigid darkness encased his entire body. When he gasped, water flooded his lungs. Trickster thrashed to free himself. Above the surface of this dark lake where he had landed, a light waited, the lightning wolf’s aura.
Gasping, Trickster pulled himself ashore. Yeves loped down the path. As he chased the god, Trickster glimpsed the vague outline of cliffs on either side, studded with sharp-pointed trees. The bushes rustled their strange black leaves on either side of Trickster. Then he was running alongside the smaller wolves that had not followed him into Yeves’s cave. Trickster had never run so quickly, even on occasions Prudent Song wanted to discuss their strangely dwindling resources.
Up ahead, Yeves waited for him on a bridge which might have been invisible in the shadows if not for the electrical aura which surrounded the wolf. As Trickster came closer, the colors blazed in intensity, then discharged in a deafening surge that knocked Trickster into a white oblivion.
{****}
Trickster woke to find a winged snake twice his size hovering over him. He screamed as a single eye lit up within the vacuous hole of its head.
“Well,” came the gravelly voice he recognized as the gatekeeper’s. “It’s good you’re feeling better.”
“Don’t let it eat me!” Trickster said.
“Don’t fall off the edge, now, or you’ll undo all my healing,” the gatekeeper said.
Trickster whipped his head in the direction opposite the snake. He had not only jumped to his feet without realizing it; he had also nearly backed away over the edge of the gate.
“And don’t be ridiculous,” the tortoise added. “Nath won’t eat you. I wonder if something inside your head got injured…”
“You’d hide in your shell if you knew what was good for you,” Trickster warned. He trailed off as the creature settled its inky darkness atop the gatekeeper’s thick shell. As it sat there, the single eye changed from red to the orange embers of a fading fire.
“Nath and I are old friends,” the tortoise said. “Though I suppose he is a bit intimidating at first. Aren’t you, Nath?” Had the tortoise hands, he would have petted the snake in the fashion of Yioka women with their dogs.
“I don’t believe this.” Trickster scratched the top of his head and started from the pain. Memories caught him in their currents, and suddenly he was churning in a tremendous waterfall of them. “That light must have injured me. And somehow you healed me.” Trickster pointed at the gatekeeper.
“Nath brought you here,” the tortoise said. “He takes a special interest in the wolf’s races.”
Somehow Trickster forced himself to meet the serpent’s eye. “Thank you, Nath.” It proved much easier to thank the gatekeeper.
“Nath did not always have that form.” The tortoise shuffled in the direction opposite from Trickster. “Nor I this heavy, cumbersome one.”
“How did you once appear?” Trickster said, chiefly to drive away thoughts of Prudent Song and the children. He had failed them. He almost wished Yeves had killed him. The story would bring his family honor, at least.
The gatekeeper cleared his throat. “It is very rude to ask a question and not heed the answer, especially of one who has just restored your life.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Trickster said. “My mind is on the defeat. Although I am but mortal, I still feel cheated.”
“Indeed!” the tortoise agreed with energy Trickster had never seen him display before. “Nath and I, too, were defeated by Yeves. Because of his cruelty, we now wear the shapes you see. Have you heard of the god Elbadu?”
Trickster shrugged.
“I am he,” the tortoise declared. “Ages ago, the lands that surround us were mine. Nath sped, wind-swift, from border to border with me upon his back.”
Trickster scratched his head. “So Nath was once much larger. That, or you went to much trouble to survey such a bleak place.”
“Fool! This was not always the wasteland you see here. When Yeves conquered me, he decided the land should be as dull as possible to be a foil to his violent lightning. Vainglorious, wandering god! Under me, the rain fell in season, in all varieties, drizzle, mist, patter, downpour. They called me ‘the green man.’ I was taller than you, and slender as a beanpole. Now I am as heavy as a boulder, and though Nath is as swift as ever, he will never be able to carry me. I shall never challenge Yeves to a rematch.” The tortoise sounded near tears. Then Nath nudged him, his eye hard as amber. “Yes, Nath. I shall ask him.” The tortoise turned to Trickster. “Won’t you ride with Nath against Yeves? More than anything, I desire the defeat of that arrogant wolf. But perhaps it is unfair to ask you, a mortal, to attempt what I, a god, have failed in.”
Trickster grinned. “I wouldn’t miss this rematch!”
{****}
“So my gatekeeper wishes to interfere, does he?” Yeves roared when Trickster appeared at the edge of his balcony astride Nath. Trickster gripped Nath’s reins tighter as the sky darkened with Yeves’s displeasure.
“He is certainly interested in the outcome of this race.” Trickster tried to pretend that it was no god he faced in a life-threatening race, but Deft Hands over a toss of the bones. “He holds this creature in high esteem. And it seems the three of you have history.”
Yeves grinned. Sinister light flashed in his eyes, and a small explosion beyond the balcony attended his chuckle. “Indeed. Mortals have forgotten him for generations to revere me.”
“I would still like to race again,” Trickster said, though with each second fleeing back to Elbadu seemed the more desirable choice. “Even the god Elbadu did not contend with your speed alone. Although,” Trickster smiled, forced himself to meet Yeves’s eye, “it was flattering that you chose to contend against me alone.”
“I only raced you for the novelty of it and to teach you a lesson,” Yeves said. “As for that worthless insect Nath, he couldn’t beat me before, even with his master guiding him. You are no god. And though your people are horsemen, you are too irresponsible to hold one for more than a fortnight. What hope do you possess?”
“Are you afraid, great Yeves?”
The lightning wolf’s roar split the sky. Several shafts shot from the chasm, burning trees in the canyon. A chorus of howls rose. “I will run you into the ground, mortal man! And when I have done so, my brethren will feast on you!”
{****}
An official race in the gods’ realm, Trickster learned the next day, was far more involved than his previous match with Yeves. For any bet between immortals, the gods themselves presided as an audience, who, though unseen, filled the storm-anticipating air with their murmurs. Also, two witnesses, both immortal, would officiate the race, one at the start, and the other at the finish. The first judge would preside over an oath Trickster and Yeves would take to solidify the race stakes. The second would confirm who won and would arbitrate if there were any dispute.
These matters Elbadu explained to Trickster, speaking through a talisman he had given him and warned him to hide from the lightning god. It was a simple stone, gray and round, carved with the ancient symbol that even among the present-day Yioka meant “raindrop.” With it, Elbadu could tell Trickster racing details as well as what Yeves planned next and how to guide Nath through signals on the reins.
Trickster and Yeves traded glares while they waited for the gods to arrive. After some time, Yeves turned to the west and remained with his gaze fixed on that vast distance, his body as still as a totem. Trickster jumped when Yeves’s ominous voice broke the silence with the words, “We greet you, honorable judges.”
Trickster’s nervousness at facing more gods gave way before a surge of delighted recognition at an ugly boy child dressed in skins and dragging a sling nearly as long as Nath. On the ogre boy’s shoulder rode a bobcat with a gaze bright and alert. In Yioka legend, the ogre boy’s mother had abandoned him, presumably for how ugly he was. The gods had taken pity on him and made him one of their own. The bobcat, Trickster recalled, was the ogre boy’s constant companion. Some stories held that she had adopted him as her son and named him Ojier. Eating the gods’ food had made the little boy grow to giant size. While Trickster might have ridden Yeves with only the tips of his toes dragging against the ground,