[50024 Years Ago/ That Evening/ The Lake]
Mike's return had caused no little disruption to the tribe. All had thought him a meal for lions. When he'd limped into the village with Heba helping and guiding him, there was a joyous uproar and there were many looks of respect, even fear, for Heba, who alone among them had never lost hope.
Heba had taken Mike to his yurt, then spent the day acting as helper to the shaman as he cleaned Mike's wounds and tended to his broken leg. She'd run for food and water and various healing herbs as necessary. Only now in the evening was she able to sit at the bonfire to eat a full meal.
She munched on roots and berries and stared with irritation into the fire. Mike was back, but he had fallen into a swoon and now had a high fever. The shaman told her that he would be fine once the fever broke, but she saw in the healer's eyes that he didn't believe it would break in time.
Heba had no gut feeling about this, but it seemed impossible to her that Mike would die after he'd gone through and triumphed over so much. It didn't seem fair. She sighed. Life being fair was not something to be counted upon.
She heard laughter on the other side of the bonfire and looked to see Pult in the midst of some story that was entertaining the other hunters. Heba spat out a seed and wished she could spit it far enough to hit the large man.
When Mike returned, the hunters had at first been squeamish and embarrassed that they had claimed him to be dead, but it only took Pult's response to settle things for the villagers who were looking to him in question.
"So, Mike lives," Pult had said. "Well, he is a poor hunter, but apparently a faster runner than anyone expected. It's good he has skill at something."
There had been much laughter to this and Heba would have gone to slap the big man except for two things: she was busy collecting the items the shaman needed, and also, the reaction that Dugg had had to Pult's words. He alone hadn't laughed. He alone had a look that told a different story than the one Pult claimed for the hunting expedition.
Heba looked back to the yurt where Mike was recovering. She wished there was something more she could do, but she'd been shooed away and ordered to eat and rest before she ended up needing the shaman's help as well.
Heba yawned. She would have to sleep soon, but first she would talk to Dugg.
"Heba," Tagi said, sitting down, "how are you?"
"I'm fine, Matron," Heba said. "Just tired."
"You should be, and you need to take care of yourself, but in your extreme actions you have again shown yourself to be a great seer. Our tribe is fortunate."
"Thank you, Matron."
"I will have many tasks for you once you have rested for a few days."
Heba looked on in question.
"Did you think our tribe would simply wait on your latest dream, Heba? No, you have much to do. Three of our women are pregnant and they each wish to know the health and sex of her child."
"But I don't know if I can do that," Heba said.
"Of course you can, that is what a seer is for. And then we'll need to know where any remaining water snakes are so we can use the island as a nuptial getaway for newlyweds." Tagi said this with a smile.
"I hate snakes," Heba said.
"And therefore, you'll be able to find them all the easier. And we'll have much else for you to do as we turn this place into a proper village."
"All right," Heba said, "but first I need to help Mike."
"Yes, of course. I'm sure he'll be fine." Tagi touched Heba's cheek with a gentle hand, then got up. "Take care of yourself, seer. We need you."
"I will, Matron. Thank you."
Heba smiled as she wondered how she'd accomplish any of the things that were required of a seer, then she noticed Dugg slip away from the fire and walk toward the Lake.
Heba waited an appropriate amount of time, then yawned and stood and walked away from the Lake while thinking of how to get there in a roundabout way in the dark.