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“Rites of Wood and Bone” by Utunu (read by Leuna)
A tribe of red jackals lives isolated, way up in the highlands. Sabara, new to the tribe’s magic of runes, eagerly expands his knowledge, even as horrific events begin to occur. Can he find the source?
Tonight’s story is “Rites of Wood and Bone” by Utunu, who has written several short stories, along with a novel that has been recently published, and can be found at mapakuvillage.com.
Read by Leuna, your Internet Half-Creature.
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Transcript
You’re listening to The Ghost of Dog on The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Tonight’s story is
Speaker:“Rites of Wood and Bone”
Speaker:by Utunu, who has written several short stories, along with a novel that has been recently published,
Speaker:and can be found
Speaker:at mapakuvillage.com.
Speaker:Read by Leuna, your Internet Half-Creature.
Speaker:Fear has no age. Horror belongs to no era.
Speaker:When the first fire
Speaker:was lit, fear was there to slink around the edges of its light, and when the last star begins to burn out fear will fill the space it leaves behind. Submitted for your consideration: an older fear, which under its masks, of antiquity
Speaker:and unfamiliarity,
Speaker:may prove to have a face
Speaker:known to us all. Please enjoy “Rites of Wood and Bone” by Utunu I attempt the rite of meditation.
Speaker:Alál crouches on his haunches nearby, watching,
Speaker:the chin of his slender canine muzzle resting on clasped paws.
Speaker:The wind ruffles his reddish fur, but he ignores it.
Speaker:The bag of runes, made of soft hide, sits between us.
Speaker:It is closed now, and two small wooden tiles,
Speaker:hexagonal and crudely carved with simple but strange designs, lie next to it in the grass. Khet and ka. I pick them up and trace the lines of them with a claw, curiously.
Speaker:He has told me no more than the names.
Speaker:“Set them together.
Speaker:No, not like that.
Speaker:Next to each other, so the sides are touching. There.”
Speaker:I obey, tentatively,
Speaker:expecting something.
Speaker:Nothing happens. I lift my gaze to Alál.
Speaker:“If it were that simple, everyone would do it,” he laughs.
Speaker:I feel my ears grow hot, and look back down.
Speaker:“Now, focus on them.
Speaker:Trace the lines of them with your mind.
Speaker:A claw too, if that helps you concentrate.”
Speaker:It is easy to focus up here, atop the low mountains.
Speaker:There is nothing else around but more smoothed and undulating peaks, all similarly adorned with nought but grass and boulders.
Speaker:The village isn’t far,
Speaker:but even it offers no distraction;
Speaker:the sound and sights of it are obscured by the hills between.
Speaker:I let my eyes follow the lines on the tiles.
Speaker:“Khet is the body, your physical form,” he explains.
Speaker:“As you trace the lines of the rune, feel it trace the lines of your body. Think of the shape
Speaker:as if all those lines connect together as the whole,
Speaker:and focus as you follow them.”
Speaker:I try. I start at the paw with which I’m tracing the wooden tile, and as my claw follows the line, I move my focus with it,
Speaker:moving slowly up my arm.
Speaker:“The line itself doesn’t represent any particular
Speaker:part of your body
Speaker:—just use it as a focus to move your awareness along your form, whichever way you want.”
Speaker:It tingles, and I tell Alál
Speaker:so. “Good!” The points of his ears stand straight up, and a smile breaks across his muzzle. “Not many get that far, and even fewer do it that quickly. Ah,
Speaker:don’t get distracted…”
Speaker:It’s too late. The warm flush of pride I feel at my success breaks my concentration and the tingle fades.
Speaker:But I take a deep breath and start again.
Speaker:I had been dreading Alál’s testing ever since my rite of passage
Speaker:—it was something he did with every youngster—but I had passed the first step. Which meant
Speaker:I could do it again.
Speaker:So I do. Alál is quiet again, just the occasional twitch of an ear as he watches,
Speaker:but it is not enough to pull me away from the lines carved on the wooden tile in front of me.
Speaker:It is easier now,
Speaker:and I feel the thrum of it as I follow the lines of my body, from the tips of my footpaws to the tips of my tail
Speaker:to the tips of my ears.
Speaker:“Now ka. Ka is your self,
Speaker:your presence, the thing that makes you you.
Speaker:Trace it, while you hold khet in your mind,
Speaker:and see the connection.
Speaker:Make your ka aware of every part of your physical form.” My claw
Speaker:still tingles as I begin to trace the other tile,
Speaker:still pressed against the first.
Speaker:I look inside, I try to feel each part of me, aware of it all…
Speaker:“You are excited; calm yourself with your ka.
Speaker:Slow your breathing,
Speaker:slow your heartbeat.”
Speaker:It is difficult to repress my thrill,
Speaker:but I do as he says. It is surprisingly
Speaker:easy, and my heart and mind calm once my ka directs them.
Speaker:The lines on the tiles seem obvious now when they had seemed haphazard before;
Speaker:they both define and bind things, and I feel I start to understand their nature. I dimly hear Alál tell me to release my focus.
Speaker:I do so, and the world around me snaps back into clarity.
Speaker:Alál is grinning at me, tongue lolling. “Very good!”
Speaker:He picks up the two tiles and places them back in his bag.
Speaker:I’m almost sad to see them go, but I’m still quivering with the success.
Speaker:“Tomorrow morning.
Speaker:You’ll meet the rest, and we’ll begin.”
Speaker:I follow Alál, a stride or two behind.
Speaker:It is early, and the chill has yet to burn off with the sun
Speaker:—my breath makes faint puffs in the cold, but my inner excitement keeps me warm.
Speaker:I carry with me a section of soft dik-dik hide,
Speaker:an awl, and some gut thread;
Speaker:I am to merely listen
Speaker:as the others practice tracing their rites, and busy myself making a pouch to contain the runes I hope to eventually carve.
Speaker:We head to the heathlands on the plateau west of the village, and it is soon clear we are the last to arrive.
Speaker:Five, red jackals all, sit in a semicircle awaiting us, and Alál raises a paw in greeting when they notice our approach.
Speaker:I know of them all,
Speaker:though not well—they have several seasons on me, and three I recall are agemates.
Speaker:Alál, of course, is older than us all, and carries himself as a teacher among students.
Speaker:Alál points and I sit where directed, apart from the others.
Speaker:I dip my muzzle, and my ears are hot as he introduces me.
Speaker:“Sabara is our newest.
Speaker:It has been a while, but it seems the wait was worthwhile. He showed promise with khet-ka almost immediately
Speaker:—quicker even than you, Tequr.”
Speaker:My ears grow hotter, and I steal a glance at Tequr.
Speaker:She watches me, her only betrayal of emotion a raised eyebrow and slight smile, and after a pause she nods in my direction.
Speaker:Hayel is closest to me in age, and I remember he always called me ‘cub’ when he deigned to notice me.
Speaker:He ignores me now, which
Speaker:doesn’t surprise me.
Speaker:The twins, Kebur and Beleh,
Speaker:flash me easy smiles, and Raqiq
Speaker:raises a paw in greeting.
Speaker:But then I am forgotten.
Speaker:Rune pouches are upended,
Speaker:and the clack of tiles and the occasional comments of the attentive Alál, sometimes sharp, sometimes encouraging,
Speaker:are the only sounds above the whip of the breeze.
Speaker:I catch occasional words I do not recognise, realising they are
Speaker:the names of runes I have yet to
Speaker:see. I try to peek over from time to time as I work on my own rune pouch, but there is little I can discern
Speaker:—the glyphs, even when I manage a clear glance,
Speaker:mean nothing. So I bend to my task. I’ve sewn leather before—the pouch takes form quickly.
Speaker:At one point, the constant wind blowing through the heather stops suddenly, and I look up, surprised. Beleh’s giggle, Kebur’s mischievous grin, and Alál’s glare make clear what’s occurred, and just as suddenly the wind begins again.
Speaker:I cannot wait to command the winds myself.
Speaker:It is mid-morning
Speaker:when we are dismissed, but my pouch is almost done.
Speaker:It is not until it is complete that I look up to find Alál still there, watching me.
Speaker:“I am sorry, I did not know you were waiting for me!” My ears flatten.
Speaker:Alál chuckles. “Not to worry.
Speaker:Come.” We walk back slowly, and he speaks to me of the basics.
Speaker:Things the others already knew, of course, but I embrace each word, feeling one step closer to performing rites of my own.
Speaker:He tells me that there are different magics, not just runes,
Speaker:but they are the ways of different tribes.
Speaker:The glyphs upon the tiles, he says, can be found amongst some of the oldest ruins he’s seen,
Speaker:some even in the lands of distant tribes,
Speaker:yet only we, the Kykeber, the ‘red jackals’, cast rites from them. Not even our jackal cousins, in the savannas and deserts, use runes.
Speaker:He tells me of new glyphs, too.
Speaker:Foci that touch perception, strengths both physical and mental, the winds and the earth…
Speaker:there are many, and their interactions can be molded within the boundaries of any given rite.
Speaker:Khet-ka, for example, was used
Speaker:for a rite of meditation,
Speaker:yet as a connection between the body and the essence of self it had other uses as well.
Speaker:Alál has all these in his bag of runes and more, and I will be permitted to use them until I craft my own. The wooden ones, that is.
Speaker:The ones of bone are different. The moon has turned, and I sit amongst
Speaker:the others now,
Speaker:practicing the forms of rites. I have learned fewer glyphs than the others, of course, but Alál has constantly expressed surprise at my aptitude.
Speaker:My pleasure at success is often dampened by his warnings that I open myself too much to the magic
Speaker:—I cannot let it direct me,
Speaker:I must direct it.
Speaker:The one or two frustrated and envious glares I receive from Hayel do little to affect my mood.
Speaker:Tequr, though, I cannot read.
Speaker:She is clearly the most adept of all of Alál’s students, but her thoughts seem hidden.
Speaker:Kebur grins one day when I mention it.
Speaker:“She likes it that way.
Speaker:She hides behind ba-shut—haven’t you noticed? It’s the first rite she casts when we meet.”
Speaker:I hadn’t, and it makes me wary. He must have noticed, for he continues.
Speaker:“Alál doesn’t seem to mind. She’s friendly enough, just…
Speaker:very focused.” She is also the first I see use bone.
Speaker:Alál upends his bag of runes, and amongst all the familiar wooden tiles are several crafted of bone.
Speaker:They look very similar to the others—even the glyphs on them are all ones I recognise. He hands several of them out to the other students and,
Speaker:after a pause, hands me a bone tile with a ka glyph
Speaker:along with the normal wooden khet and
Speaker:ka. I can sense everyone’s excitement
Speaker:—even Tequr’s scent betrays it.
Speaker:Alál begins to speak, while the others wait impatiently.
Speaker:“Sabara, you are familiar now with the wooden rune tiles. Wood, as a material,
Speaker:is bounded. It has a limit to its strength, and as such,
Speaker:acts as a safeguard.
Speaker:It allows us to learn the glyphs and be protected from them at the same time. It is like…
Speaker:a blunted spear. It can still do
Speaker:damage, but we can give it to our cubs for them to learn its use.
Speaker:When they are skilled,
Speaker:a sharpened spear takes its place.
Speaker:The same is true here,
Speaker:with bone. The bone tiles have no such guards, no such protections. They are blades with sharp edges
Speaker:—if you are not careful,
Speaker:you will cut yourself.
Speaker:But what you can do with them is almost limitless. “Tequr, you may begin.
Speaker:The rest of you, be careful,
Speaker:use a wooden tile and transition gradually.
Speaker:Sabara, what that means is you must use
Speaker:both a wooden ka
Speaker:and the bone ka in your meditation.
Speaker:Gradually move from one to the other.”
Speaker:I ache to do so, but even on the cusp of this new learning, I’m uncertain.
Speaker:I watch as the others work their rites. Tequr has sah
Speaker:-akh laid out, and sits calmly with her eyes closed. Kebur struggles, the winds he calls quickly quelled as the rite evades him,
Speaker:but he tries again.
Speaker:Beleh flickers in and out of view, khet-an-maa-maa spread out in front of her on the grass. Hayel and Raqiq strain, focused on the tiles in front of them,
Speaker:but I cannot make out the glyphs.
Speaker:I lay out my own. Khet-ka-ka. I leave the bone tile separated for now,
Speaker:and quickly attain the state of meditation with which I am now so familiar.
Speaker:There is a soft click
Speaker:as I push ka to join the others,
Speaker:and immediately it flows over and through me.
Speaker:There is so much there.
Speaker:I open myself to it, and it threads its way within me.
Speaker:My awareness of my self expands and spreads, and I stretch further with it, following the paths as it—
Speaker:“Too much!” Alál’s voice is sharp,
Speaker:and his paw strikes my tiles, scattering them.
Speaker:There is a wrench,
Speaker:and I am back in my body once more.
Speaker:I clutch vainly for something that feels like it has been torn away,
Speaker:but it is no longer there.
Speaker:Panting heavily, ears back, I stare at the ground in loss and embarrassment.
Speaker:“You are too open,
Speaker:Sabara,” Alál says gently, cupping my muzzle and tilting my head upwards.
Speaker:The others are staring at me, and my ears are hot.
Speaker:“Rites of bone are dangerous,
Speaker:and who knows what can happen.
Speaker:You must always be in control.”
Speaker:He takes ka and places it back in his bag,
Speaker:and it is all I can do to temper my frustration with myself.
Speaker:Something still feels strange and wrong, and Alál must have noticed my consternation, for he pats my paw comfortingly.
Speaker:“Tomorrow you and I will craft your first runes.”
Speaker:The trek to the lowlands doesn’t take too long, although I’m already dreading the uphill climb home.
Speaker:Down here, Alál explains,
Speaker:I can select a tree that speaks to me, and from it carve my runes.
Speaker:No trees grow up in the heathlands where we red jackals live—it is
Speaker:too high. “We have
Speaker:caches of wood up at the village.
Speaker:Why can’t I carve from one of those?”
Speaker:“You must take it from a living tree.
Speaker:It makes that rune yours in a way that a piece of dead wood cannot.
Speaker:You will find, once you carve them,
Speaker:that you are even more attuned to the glyphs than before. It’ll be better than using mine, for certain,”
Speaker:Alál says. “What about bone?”
Speaker:“The same is true.
Speaker:You must take it from something you hunt yourself, in order to carve your own.
Speaker:Next season, perhaps, we will all head down to hunt some game for this purpose.”
Speaker:We soon arrive in the nearby forests of the lowlands, and Alál trades me khet and ka from his bag for the spear I’ve been carrying.
Speaker:“I doubt you’ll need that here,”
Speaker:he comments, and sets it next to his own as he sits upon a small boulder.
Speaker:“Off you go. Perform khet-ka, perhaps it will lead you to the tree you need.”
Speaker:It turns out to be surprisingly simple.
Speaker:I don’t have to travel far, and already the trees pull at me.
Speaker:I choose the right one,
Speaker:and I carve my tiles. Even the act of creating the glyphs feels stronger than the tiles I’ve borrowed.
Speaker:I’ve completed half a dozen by the time Alál interrupts me.
Speaker:“It’s a good start.
Speaker:We can return another day for more.”
Speaker:I notice then the sun is low in the sky, and my disappointment at not having made all the tiles I know fades with the realisation that Alál has waited far longer than I would have expected.
Speaker:It is dark by the time we return, but I barely notice the hike,
Speaker:my mind constantly going to the tiles softly clacking against one another within the rune pouch riding upon my hip.
Speaker:Hayel doesn’t show up the next morning.
Speaker:We all assume he is feeling unwell, and Alál seems unworried.
Speaker:I’m pleased that at least
Speaker:I don’t have to deal with his condescending looks.
Speaker:I regret those thoughts later,
Speaker:when his body is found.
Speaker:The returning hunters found his body in a gully, missing his right paw.
Speaker:He had suffered a huge blow to the head, from what we were told—his form has mercifully been wrapped up for the pyre by the time the village gathered with the news.
Speaker:The night sky collects the sparks spitting from the flames.
Speaker:Alál and his students,
Speaker:myself included, subconsciously gather after the farewell rituals are performed,
Speaker:and Alál quietly mentions that
Speaker:the severing seemed to have been made with a blade;
Speaker:this was not an accident,
Speaker:nor the loss of the paw a simple meal for scavengers.
Speaker:He bids us be careful.
Speaker:With the morning, our scouts are doubled.
Speaker:It has been many seasons since we had to repel any invaders, but we take no chances.
Speaker:Atop the heath, Alál attempts to teach us as normal, but our hearts aren’t in it. Tequr mutters something I don’t hear, and Alál nods.
Speaker:“We can look. There are rites we can try. Perhaps his spirit can tell us,
Speaker:or we may see things that can offer hints. Khet, sah, ren, even ka or ba…
Speaker:there are no obvious rites, so cast the tiles as you wish. Perhaps one of us will succeed.”
Speaker:We try. I have difficulty focusing; I think due to my mishap the other day with the tile of bone,
Speaker:I am afraid to embrace the rites. It only serves to make me feel more guilty, which
Speaker:does not help. I am relieved when Alál suggests we cease our attempts
Speaker:—no one has had any success, and the despondency is palpable.
Speaker:We quietly disperse, and I find myself back at my hut soon after, going through the motions of the day.
Speaker:Frustration at my own weakness pulls at me, and finally, after night falls,
Speaker:I find myself seated on the floor of my hut, a single candle lit,
Speaker:with rune pouch beside me and tiles strewn.
Speaker:It is simplistic, but I place khet and ka in front of me. Meditation comes easily, thankfully,
Speaker:and I let my mind drift in the safety of it.
Speaker:Khet-ren-ka, then, and I look for Hayel.
Speaker:I open myself further, seeking something Hayel, though I know he is gone.
Speaker:I don’t know how long I sit for, but I’m panting heavily by the time I catch a glimpse. And just a glimpse,
Speaker:nothing more. His paw, severed, held in another.
Speaker:A red jackal paw, and a tongue
Speaker:licks at the blood.
Speaker:There’s a tension in the air, a scent of nervousness,
Speaker:but we work on our rites.
Speaker:I arrived early, in the hopes of catching Alál alone to tell him of what I saw,
Speaker:but he is late. He teaches us a new rite—ib-khet-an-met—insistent that we repeat it until we can perform it successfully.
Speaker:“It can repel a blade.
Speaker:I hope none of you will need it,”
Speaker:he states, solemnly.
Speaker:As we leave, we each cast it and hold its pattern.
Speaker:Quietly, afterwards, I inform him of what I’d found.
Speaker:He is surprised and I cannot help the pride I feel, having discovered something where others have failed.
Speaker:He offers me ren
Speaker:and ka to take with me, if I should seek again,
Speaker:but I shake my head, my ears back.
Speaker:It will be a while before I feel safe with ka,
Speaker:let alone a different tile of bone,
Speaker:and Alál nods in understanding.
Speaker:He bids me keep silent regarding what I’ve found;
Speaker:we do not want the village to panic.
Speaker:He tells me he’ll talk to the elders.
Speaker:There is a notable nervousness in the village over the next few days.
Speaker:I’m sure some know that whoever perpetrated this is likely in the village, and the knowing just makes things worse. Alál cancels our lessons in the meantime, which does nothing to help my nerves as I lay awake in my hut, unable to avoid listening for the merest sounds
Speaker:as my mind creates the worst possibilities.
Speaker:I am not next, though. Kebur is. He is found in the pre-dawn light,
Speaker:splayed upon the ground outside his hut,
Speaker:staring sightlessly upwards.
Speaker:There is a hole carved in his chest.
Speaker:I am told no more than that, and I don’t think I want to know. Beleh is inconsolable. Kebur was her twin, and there is always that additional bond there.
Speaker:She closes herself off in her hut to grieve, and none of us blame her.
Speaker:The rest of us meet up on the heath
Speaker:—it is but the four of us now.
Speaker:I put my nervousness behind me and accept Alál’s offer of ren and ka
Speaker:as we sit there, casting our rites,
Speaker:hoping to find something that can tell us what’s happened.
Speaker:I cannot allow my fear of bone to stay my hand, not when it’s clear that someone is targeting us.
Speaker:Khet-ren-ka resolves quickly for me.
Speaker:Perhaps it is the focus, the need for understanding, that pushes my hesitations out of the way.
Speaker:It comes easily to me, and the power of the bone glyphs opens a glimpse, brief though it is, into Kebur’s fate.
Speaker:He is still alive in what I see,
Speaker:my vision looking down upon him, as if I’m right there.
Speaker:I close my mind’s eye to what comes next, as his spirit leaves his body.
Speaker:A jackal’s paw holds a blade, then slowly,
Speaker:methodically, a tongue licks at the blood spattered there.
Speaker:I am exhausted when I awaken the following morning.
Speaker:I remember falling asleep casting rites, searching for possibilities. My rune tiles aren’t scattered about, however—I must have put them back in my pouch.
Speaker:I check to confirm,
Speaker:then depart from the comfort of my hut into the chill of early morning.
Speaker:Sitting inside is doing nothing for me, after all.
Speaker:I start up towards the heath, but see Alál striding towards me, purposefully.
Speaker:I tense; there is no one else around.
Speaker:But I feel bad for it—has it gotten to the point we’re suspecting each other?
Speaker:“Sabara. May I see your rune pouch?”
Speaker:His tone is stressed; something is wrong.
Speaker:I silently hand it to him.
Speaker:“What is it?” He crouches on his haunches and spills the contents onto the grass, eyeing them carefully.
Speaker:It is just the six I’ve carved, along with the two he loaned me.
Speaker:He sighs then, and the tension departs.
Speaker:He places the tiles back in my pouch.
Speaker:“Some bone tiles are missing from my pouch. I fear they’ve been stolen.”
Speaker:“Which ones?” I ask.
Speaker:He pauses. “The ones I haven’t taught yet.”
Speaker:I know what that means.
Speaker:No one but those of us studying with Alál would realise which tiles we didn’t know.
Speaker:Someone amongst us has done this.
Speaker:I look at Alál, still crouched there thinking.
Speaker:“I suppose we should go up to the heath.
Speaker:And see if someone doesn’t show,”
Speaker:he says. Which is what we do.
Speaker:Beleh arrives shortly after we do; tears form dark streaks in her fur, but she silently acquiesces to Alál’s request,
Speaker:displaying the tiles in her pouch.
Speaker:Only her own. And Raqiq seems
Speaker:completely unnerved when he shows up—I can’t blame him—but he, too, is proven innocent of stealing tiles.
Speaker:We wait. Tequr does not arrive.
Speaker:Alál is silent, and I can tell it weighs heavier and heavier upon him as the moments stretch.
Speaker:She was the most adept of us, apart from him.
Speaker:He seems almost defeated when he takes tiles out,
Speaker:setting up ba-shut-maa.
Speaker:“Go. I will search for her.
Speaker:Get back to the village, and talk to huntleader Raka.
Speaker:He and his hunters will protect you until I return.”
Speaker:I linger briefly, watching as Alál starts his rite,
Speaker:wanting to help but not knowing how.
Speaker:By the time I leave, Raqiq and Beleh are
Speaker:barely visible, reddish dots amongst the stone and heather.
Speaker:I make my way down the gentle slope towards the narrow footpath that leads to the village.
Speaker:Pausing, I sit in the grass and empty out my pouch.
Speaker:It’s worked before,
Speaker:so I lay out khet-ren-ka.
Speaker:Glimpses. Flashes.
Speaker:Perhaps she hides herself?
Speaker:Kebur said she always cast ba-shut.
Speaker:There! A cave? It is dark, but I feel stone pressing in on all sides… is she here?
Speaker:I keep the rite’s pattern, and collect the tiles. I know of some nearby caves, and head that way.
Speaker:The pattern continues to provide,
Speaker:and it feeds me confirmation as I forge closer.
Speaker:I soon find myself standing amidst the scree that slopes down from several caves in the mountainside.
Speaker:I had played here occasionally as a pup
Speaker:—many of us had
Speaker:—but that was many seasons ago.
Speaker:I start to make my way up, then think better of it.
Speaker:Instead, I release the pattern and open up my rune pouch. Á-ren. I seek Alál, and speak to him through the pattern that is formed. I tell him of what I’ve seen, and he states he will be here soon. I set ib-khet-an-met and weave its protection around me.
Speaker:But the cave calls to me.
Speaker:There is something there, and I need to see what it is.
Speaker:So I creep forward.
Speaker:It is easy to choose the correct one. The scent of blood burns my nose as I enter,
Speaker:and that is not all.
Speaker:I smell Tequr too.
Speaker:Lights flicker from the dark depths of the cave
Speaker:—candles?—and I make my way slowly within as stealthily as I can. I follow the curve of the wall until I reach the candles themselves,
Speaker:dimly illuminating the broken body of Tequr lying nearby.
Speaker:A scattering of tiles,
Speaker:all bone and stained with red, lie upon the cold floor.
Speaker:It is so familiar.
Speaker:I slowly turn in a circle, and the cave looks exactly as I expect.
Speaker:As I remember. Briefly—oh so briefly—my ka rejoins.
Speaker:My self’s halves converge, connecting once more from when they split all those days ago,
Speaker:wrenched apart from that failed rite.
Speaker:And the memories of that other half return, along with horror
Speaker:at what my other self has done.
Speaker:My mind cannot accept it. My legs fail me, and I drop to my knees next to the bloodstained tiles of bone.
Speaker:I suppose it is an instinct of survival
Speaker:that pushes that half of my ka, my self, away again
Speaker:to hide in the recesses of my mind, and I am myself again.
Speaker:I shift over to explore my handiwork.
Speaker:There is far more I need to carve—Tequr has been more than forthcoming with the essential material—but Alál will be here soon.
Speaker:I sit, crosslegged,
Speaker:and lay out my bone tiles in preparation.
Speaker:They are still covered in blood,
Speaker:still warm. Slowly,
Speaker:methodically, I lick some of the blood from my paw,
Speaker:and wait. This was “Rites of Wood and Bone” by Utunu, read for you by Leuna, your Internet Half-Creature.
Speaker:You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Ghost of Dog.
