Freya     

Freya paused, waiting for the older woman to catch up.  They had been walking through the Sonora desert since early morning; now the sun beat down almost directly overhead.  They had passed a number of stone outcroppings.  Sarah Slate groaned.

"Is this the one?"  Sarah fervently hoped so.  She had worn sneakers, but the deserts sands were worse on her feet than the beach, and a great deal hotter.  Rough stones bruised her burnt feet through the thin soles.  She had worn a hat, but the sweat still poured off her.  She was getting dehydrated.

They had stopped at an unusual formation.  The ravine had tall, steep sides, making a canyon that narrowed to another steep wall at the end.

"Yes, this is the place.  It's a perfect spot for a picnic."  Freya's blue eyes took in Sarah's condition. "We should have stopped sooner, but you'll like it here.  The walls keep the sun out most of the day.  Even at noon it's twenty degrees cooler than the surrounding desert."

"Swell, it's 95 degrees instead of 115."  Sarah limped past Freya, and slumped about halfway in against one of the smooth walls.

Freya glided past her, shrugging her backpack off, and removed a blanket.  She spread it out near the back of the canyon.

"I don't usually take a blanket when I'm by myself, but you're not used to the desert," Freya said.  She glanced at Sarah again.  "You really need to take a drink.  In the desert you have to stay hydrated."

Sarah fumbled with the cap of the canteen.  "I don't notice you drinking much."

"I took a big drink of water before I left grandpa's.  I filled my canteen, but I don't need water as much as most people." 

Freya hesitated.  She knew when Mark Howard brought the young woman to the Sun On Jo reservation that something must be up.  Sarah Slate seemed to be one of her daddy's employers now.  Still, she wasn't sure how much this woman knew about Sinanju or how much she should tell her.  Not that it really mattered, but it would look suspicious if Freya was too open.

"Yes, Mark's told me how you've mastered some of Sinanju's techniques.  He doesn't know much about it.  Your father and grandfather aren't very talkative about the Sun Source." 

Remo's daughter may have been very young and a little innocent, but she wasn't a fool.  Freya got a bad feeling inside as she took in her companion's suddenly hungry gaze.  Sarah must have noticed something in Freya's manner; she laughed and sat back.

"Not that I'd deny the men their little secrets.  My family did a great service for Sinanju some years back.  I did a service for Master Chiun when I brought your father back from inside his mind.  Did anyone tell you about that?"

"No, I don't see my father and my other grandfather as much as I'd like.  My grandpa, the reservation's Sunny Joe, knows Sinanju too, though he only uses it as a last resort, for defensive purposes."  Freya made her voice and face as innocent as she could.  "Have you talked with him?"

"Yes, but I can't seem to find a way around his natural Indian reticence," Sarah laughed casually, but Freya could hear the tension in her voice.

"Why do you want to know so much about Sinanju?  Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't seem to me as if you'd be capable of learning it." 

"I'm interested in good health," Sarah replied.  "I thought if I knew just a little bit, the breathing and stuff, it would be like yoga, and I'd stay healthier longer."

"And younger, too, I suppose.  You already look younger than your age now."

"Why thank you!" Sarah smirked.

"Let's sit down and eat first.  You still haven't had a drink.  Water's very important for your skin, you know.  Some of the women in the tribe subscribe to magazines; beauty and glamour is all they seem to write about."

"We could talk about Sinanju a little first." Sarah leaned forward. 

"Later," Freya replied vaguely.  "I want your last meal to be enjoyable."  She laughed at Sarah's expression.  "Mark is coming back to pick you up later, isn't he.  The two of you might not stay for dinner, so I fixed something special now."

Freya had been spreading the food out as they talked.  Sarah glanced over.  It didn't look very special to her-- mainly vegetables and fruit, with a container of plain rice.  Freya looked up and caught Sarah staring.

"It wouldn't be practical to carry sandwiches or heavy desserts," she said.  "In this heat anything sugary would melt, and mayonnaise..."

Sarah laughed and moved over to the blanket.  As they settled in and started eating, she motioned toward Freya with a stalk of celery.

"I notice you eat a little more than the Master's diet usually permits.  Does that affect your ability to master Sinanju?"

"It's a little hard to get fish around here, unless it's salted or preserved."  Freya swallowed a mouthful of rice. "I eat vegetarian, though, to honor my grandpa.  My mother and I frequently dined off the land, which included animals she could trap or spear."

"Yes, your mother was a Viking warrior, wasn't she?"  Sarah left off all pretense of eating and leaned forward.  "Did she teach you to hunt?"

"My mother taught me many things.  Unfortunately, she died when I was still very young.  I do know how to skin a rabbit, though."

"That's odd.  Your brother had been telling me you have a little 'save the rabbits' campaign going.  You've been preventing the coyotes preying on them."

Freya gazed directly into Sarah's eyes, but her expression was distant and thoughtful.

"You know, I've found an odd thing about the Sun Source.  Sometimes you find yourself doing things, and don't understand why, but there's always a reason.  It's an instinct; it's better if you don't think about it, like when you have to dodge a bunch of missiles."

"I don't under--” Sarah broke off.  The hairs on her arms were rising.  She had the terrible feeling that they were no longer alone.  She glanced toward the mouth of the canyon.

There were dark shapes milling around.  Coyotes.  A pack of them, and more coming all the time.  They had been silent up till then, but the lead coyote noticed her movement, and raised his head, giving off several high-pitched yelps.

"What are they doing out here now?"  Sarah jumped up, pressing herself against the back wall.  She didn't know a lot about animals, but hadn't she heard something about-- She turned to Freya.  "Don't they hunt at night?"

"Usually."  Freya had begun repacking and stowing the containers in her backpack.  Her voice was unconcerned.  "I'm afraid they're very hungry.  Somebody's been interfering with their natural instincts; taking away their ability to prey on their primary food source.  Lizards and gophers don't offer much sustenance for a pack that large."

"How are we going to get out of here?"  Sarah glanced at the walls; there weren't any crevices large enough to use for hand or foot holds.  Her eyes kept being pulled back to the coyotes.  They were wary.  Human smell meant danger, but they were starving.  The pack leader was gradually darting closer, then stopping to pace an invisible boundary that kept edging further into the canyon.  The others kept close behind him.

Freya pulled her backpack on.  "I'm going up the wall.  You're staying here."

"You can't do that!" Sarah wailed. "You're not a Master."

"My father and grandfathers can climb up glass walls.  To them, this would be as easy as climbing a flight of stairs.  I haven't learned much, but this isn't very difficult even for a beginner in Sinanju.

Sarah tried to grab Freya, who never seemed to move, but somehow her hands kept closing on air.

"But why?  Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know much about my father's work, but you seem out of place.  Why did you come here, nosing around?  Why would Mark bring you?"

"Just a little vacation, that's all," Sarah babbled, "Mark mentioned the reservation, and I thought it might be nice to visit--"

She broke off as a high pitched yip sounded, much closer.  Sarah spun her head around in time to see the lead coyote snapping at an impatient half-grown cub, forcing him back. 

"No, that doesn't make any sense."  Freya's voice came from above. 

Sarah pressed her back against the wall, trying to keep an eye on the predators and look up at Freya.  The girl was halfway up, out of Sarah's reach, standing with feet and hands pressed to the rock.  She acted as if she were doing nothing more complicated than waiting for a bus.

"You don't belong, either here or at Folcroft.  I'm not interfering, exactly; I'm simply going to let nature take its course."  Freya watched until the coyotes moved into a half circle around the helpless Sarah.  She then continued her up until she crested the top of the canyon.

As she walked down the slope on the other side, the howling reached an urgent pitch.  Freya began the long walk home.  Perhaps now, things would return to normal.