those clear hazel eyes he had known since he was a baby. What he saw there wasn't fear, or hate, or confusion. They were calm, almost smiling, and they spoke to Robin with more clarity than any spoken words.
Go home, son, the eyes seemed to say. I'll be fine. This silliness is almost over and I'll be along to tuck you in after a bit. I love you, son.
Everything had been fine, and his father had come home to tuck him in. He later learned that Rachel's husband, Johnny, had arrived soon after and helped get Fritz under control. Johnny worked with Ted as a Native special constable, and though he seldom became involved in this side of their work, he was capable all the same. Robin had seen that look in his father's eyes many times since, but that fight with Fritz for some reason held a special, significant place in his memory.
Now another huge wave slammed the boat and jarred Robin's spine against the icy bottom where he sat. Once again he studied the shore to get some idea how far away they were from Fort McPherson.
With the overcast sky and a continual barrage of spray misting his eyes, spotting the usual landmarks wasn't the easiest task in the world. The Peel River was almost a mile wide in places, and no matter how much Robin squinted, images didn't always come into focus. He would have asked his father how much farther they had to go, but Ted was busy enough in the bow.
The shore of the river was covered in gravel in most places with the odd stretch of sand. Beyond the gravel shoreline, willows grew thick and dense. The banks rose sharply above this maze of branches and were covered in a blanket of dark evergreen forest. Depending on where a person went ashore, the willows could make any initial progress quite difficult.
As Robin stared at the willows through the mist and the increasingly dimming light, they appeared murky and forbidding. He imagined thousands of small yellowish diamond-shaped eyes staring back. He pictured legions of trolls crouched and ready to charge should the speedboat venture too close. With their protruding foreheads glistening with sweat and rain, they bared their sharp teeth as they gibbered in excited anticipation.
Robin's attention wandered upward, and he followed the top edge of the bank as the boat moved past. His eyes raced ahead, and he strained to see far into the distance. The fog seemed to solidify, then he realized the darkness was actually some object at the top of the bank on the horizon. The object seemed to move, but Robin couldn't tell if his senses were being truthful or if the movement was simply a trick of poor light and intense staring.
As the boat drew closer and the object grew larger, its craggy outline sharpened and took shape. Looming high on the bank, the familiar sight of Shildii Rock told Robin they were almost home.
Shildii Rock was the subject of Gwich'in legend. Robin had heard the story many times and liked to listen as each person told his or her own version. He loved legends and imagined a time when the Native stories were real and not superstition. His mother had taught him to respect the Gwich'in beliefs — the stories, the songs, the dances.
Robin absently let his eyes follow the rock as their boat passed it. He had seen Shildii from this same vantage point many times, but the irregular shape always attracted his attention. At its base the rock was roughly ten feet square. Slab after slab of large tile-like rock formed on top of one another, reaching a height of twelve feet. Robin always fancied the rock might have been fashioned by a giant out of thin LEGO pieces haphazardly placed together in a big pile.
He watched the rock recede behind them, then turned away to look forward. It took him a moment to realize what he had just seen. Part of the rock had actually moved! He was sure of it! Not when he was staring at it in the distance, but right now as he turned away. He shouted at his father, but the wind carried any sound away and he knew it was hopeless. They were now a good piece from the rock, and all Robin could do was stare back as they moved farther and farther off. The mist and rain began to close in behind them, and the outline of Shildii Rock blurred as it receded. At that moment a figure slowly rose from where it had been crouching beside the rock, then was gone.
Robin blinked at the wall of grey that now obscured his view upriver. Had he really seen someone? He glanced at his father, peered back in the direction of Shildii Rock, then looked at his father once more. Fighting the jerking movement of the boat, Robin lurched towards the bow where his father stood struggling with the wheel.
"I saw something!" Robin yelled.
Without twisting around, Robin's father tipped his head at an angle in an effort to hear his son over the weather and motor. "You saw something?"
"I saw someone!"
Ted looked back this time and caught the expression of seriousness on his son's face. Returning his attention to the front of the boat, he continued to shout over his shoulder. "What did you see, son?"
"I saw someone by Shildii Rock. He was up top, right beside it."
Robin's father glanced back again, and this time there was no mistaking the skepticism on his face.
"Dad, I know I saw someone. It was foggy, but he was standing right beside the rock. Actually, he was crouching beside it, then he stood and stared right at us."
"It was a man? Did he wave, son? Could you see who it was?"
"It was too far away to tell who it was, but I know what I saw."
"Robin, this storm is getting worse by the minute. If you're sure you saw someone, we have to go back and see. It doesn't make sense that anyone would be up there now unless he had boat trouble or something. If that's the case, we have to help."
Robin shook his head. "I saw someone, Dad. I know I did!"
His face stiff with worry, Ted slowed their speed and carefully turned the boat. They were fighting the current now, and the storm seemed to intensify as they ploughed through the waves. Their progress was agonizingly slow as they moved back upriver. It seemed to take twice as long. As Robin squinted through the thick fog, he was sure they had gone past the rock. His father angled the boat towards shore, and the fog appeared to separate and lift as they advanced. Shildii Rock loomed above them, high on the bank. Although Robin had seen the rock only moments before, he thought it was darker now. As he gazed upward, a presence seemed to stare back.
Ted worked the boat along the shore, then turned sharply and ran them gently aground. Stepping onto the side of the boat and moving to the bow, he jumped ashore and pulled them farther up onto the gravel.
"I don't see a boat anywhere, son. It's possible someone capsized and swam ashore. If he did, he might have climbed Shildii to get high enough to attract someone's attention. Shildii kind of sticks out over the fog and catches your eye. I figured this was as good a spot as any to come ashore. Our usual trail is just over there."
Robin nodded and surveyed the rock.
"No, son, you stay here," Ted said, reading his son's mind. "We were cutting it fine before we doubled back. Now every second counts. I'll hustle up, and you stay here and hold the fort."
Robin opened his mouth to speak, but his father had already turned and was jogging along the shore towards the trail. He watched as his father slipped on the gravel, regained balance, and disappeared into the willows. Robin heard Ted's progress as he started up the trail, then all was silent.
Resigned to the fact that he had to stay behind, Robin sat in the driver's seat behind the wheel. The mist and drizzle had changed into a steady downpour, and Robin suddenly realized he was getting very wet. Zipping his jacket up to his chin, he reached down and grabbed one of the smaller canvas tarps his father kept under the seat. He quickly shook it out to full size, spread it over his legs, and pulled it snuggly up to his chin. His face remained exposed to the rain, but he didn't really notice. His mind was captivated by thoughts of who might be at Shildii Rock. It had looked to him as if the person was hiding, not trying to get help. Why was he crouching behind the rock? Why didn't he wave? It didn't make sense.
Then it hit him. The figure was a spy! A fugitive hiding from the FBI. His dad might need backup, so he better be ready. What if the spy had lured them here to get their boat? Maybe the spy had seen his father head up the bank and planned to sneak down to steal the boat. If he did, Robin