Page 25 of Caveman Alien’s Horn (Caveman Aliens #26)

25

- Sprisk -

I can’t sleep, so I let Bakitan sleep inside the tree while I walk restlessly around the clearing. The mushrooms glow in blue, and their smell is really becoming quite strong now. The one in the middle is glowing stronger than any of the others. It’s almost blinding now, more white than blue.

I stop at Cora’s loom. Such a wondrous thing! And she knew exactly how to build it.

The piece of fabric she was in the middle of weaving is still there, only partly done.

I idly grab the shuttle and push it between the two rows of warp.

“Such strange words,” I mutter to myself. “Alien words. Cow. Sheep. Pig. Submreen. Loyltikard . Why force me to learn those if she knew I would never need them?”

The shuttle shoots through and I catch it on the other side. I beat the thread once with the reed and push the shuttle back the other way.

“Who would think of this thing?” I wonder out loud. “Who would think, ‘I’m going to make a frame from wood that I can make fabrics on’? Only Cora would think that. It must be the only one in the jungle.”

Once I start to weave, I find that it’s hard to stop. It’s so easy, and it makes the fabric larger. I continue, stepping on the treadles and splicing threads, doing the same thing that Cora did.

“What’s going on?” asks a voice behind me.

I barely turn my head to confirm that it’s Bakitan, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m weaving,” I reply absentmindedly.

“It makes a lot of noise. There’s bangs and talking and a lot of swearing. I thought the outcasts had come.”

“The outcasts won’t bother me,” I tell him. “I beat them up good. They know they were lucky to survive. Both of them.”

“You beat up two outcasts?”

One warp thread needs to be spliced, so I get off the bench and find the bundle of threads.

“Days ago. But they will still be licking their wounds.”

“Was it Cret’ax and Gulu’oz?”

I walk to the rear of the loom. “I think they called each other something like that.”

Bakitan yawns. “The two outcasts who helped Praxigor the dragon?”

I splice the thread and decide to splice two more, now that I’m back here. “Oh, was that them? I heard about that, but I didn’t know their names.”

“He had three helpers, but one died. Cret’ax and Gulu’oz survived. Barely.”

Tightening the little knots, I find the splices strong. “Then maybe the dragon can deal with these two, as well.”

“Maybe. Anyway, another reason I came here was to warn you about the outcasts. The other ones. Those that are coming from all over the jungle because there are women here.”

I sit back down and keep weaving. “Well, there are no women right here now that Cora has left.”

“Even so. They may be dangerous.”

The shuttle flies back and forth. “Not to me. You can go back to bed, Bakitan. Now you know what the sounds are.”

“I don’t think I will. It’s morning and I will be walking home to the Foundling camp.”

I turn to face him. “Do you have a weapon? If you run into those outcasts?”

He gives me a shy smile. “I’m not worried about meeting them in the jungle, Sprisk. They’re noisy, and I’m not. But I worry about you. That mushroom is very bright in the dark. The light must be visible for a day’s walk around it. Or more. Curious men might want to see what it is.”

“Then curious men will get a horn in their chests,” I state. “This is my clearing.”

“All right. I’ll go now. Bye.”

I get up off the bench. “Wait.”

He stops and turns. “What?”

I give him a tight smile and grab his wrist. “Thank you for coming to see me and warn me. I don’t think you’re a boy anymore. You’re a man, and in a few days you will have stripes all over you. Also, I have been thinking. I think that sometimes, we can do what the tribes do. I want you to go to the Borok tribe and ask for a sword. They won’t just give you one, and if they do, you won’t accept. They may suggest things you can do for them to earn it. Ask them to train you, too. But don’t try to become a member of the tribe! You’re a Foundling, and if you forget that, you’ll have me to deal with.”

His face lights up in a smile. “Yes, Sprisk. I will. Thank you.”

He walks across the grass, into the creek and up again, and then he goes through the portal.

I stretch, eat a slice of cold meat, drink some juice, do some thinking, and then follow him. But where he must have turned left, I turn right. I have things to do.