People of the Wolf (40 page)

Broken Shaft grinned. ' 7
plan on it.''

Ice Fire smiled proudly. The hide was the sacred center of the tribe, the heart of the people, the promise of survival. Without the supreme Power of the hide, the Mammoth People would cease to exist. Each Long Light, it passed to the clan that had shown the most valor, gained the most honor for the tribe.

He bowed his head and nodded. "I've no doubts that you'll win it back for us."

Sleep did not come for Ice Fire that night. Like a dying salmon after the spawn, he twirled and twisted in his robes. The sea bundle called repeatedly, but he couldn't quite make out its words; it disturbed him deeply.

Wind tousled the door flap, revealing stars glistening in the dark bowl of the sky. He inhaled a deep tired breath and concentrated on the feel of the cold breeze washing over his face.

"Man of the Others," a voice called hauntingly.

He tensed, heart pounding. Holding his breath, he waited, knowing the Watcher's
touch.

"I see you there," she said. "You can't hide." Her scratchy voice echoed around him like the pounding of the surf.

Rubbing hands over his eyes, he blinked anxiously around the lodge, finally rasping, "Who are you?"

"Heron. I've known you for years, man of the Others— since that day you raped—"

"I remember." He winced, memories stirring. Then, like now, the feeling had been that of a Dream. A feeling so strong, it had fooled him that day. Now it washed around him, a tangible presence that brought him bolt upright.

"Such a powerful Dreaming," he whispered.

"Are you ready to talk to me?"

"Yes." He pushed his hides back, feeling the presence wrap around his soul. Locking his mind on the essence, he stirred the fire—now gone to dull red embers—looking deeply into the coals.

"I'm here. ..." she called, guiding his attempt to
see. "Here. "

A
face formed in the crimson glow. She was old; silver-

shot hair lay in waves over her shoulders. Even in her age, she remained a striking beauty.

"I see you," he whispered, voice low so as not to disturb the other sleepers. "Such Power ... is it you who stands before us, drives your warriors against us?"

Heron shook her head, image shimmering in the rising heat of the fire. "Your son is responsible. You know him, don't you? The one born of blood?"

'.'No, I don't know him."

"Too bad. I'd hoped you'd seen him in your visions* He's a man of partial Dreams, glimmerings of greatness. He's unschooled, impetuous. Like a caribou bull driven mad by flies, he charges ahead, heedless of the consequences."

"What does he have to do with—"

"He'll be the death of your people."

Cold fear constricted around his heart. "How? Your people are too few to stand against us. He can't—"

"Not alone. Why don't you ask about your other son?"

A tickle of icy sweat threaded down the side of his face.
"The boy with the rainbow. You . . . know him?"

"Wolf Dreamer," she whispered, a curious awe in her tone. "He's powerful, man of the Others. Powerful like I could only wish."

"He'll join with his brother to destroy us?" Ice Fire shook his head wearily. ' 'They can't. Not even with the help of your potent magic. We'll trample them—and you—into the snow." But he knew his fear showed on his taut face.

She cocked her head curiously. "Did you know that once, long ago, your people and mine were one tribe? We can be again."

"The same people?" He studied her serious expression. "If we were . . . why did we split?"

"Over the Dreaming. Your clans drove us out because they feared us as magicians. Thought we could witch a person's soul and pitch it into the void. That's why you're the only Dreamer among the Mammoth People—you killed the bloodline. Fools ..."

"We didn't kill it," he said, heart thundering at mention of his sons. "We gave it to you."

"A very great gift, but it'll destroy you."

Anger and dread mixed into a terrible brew inside him. He raised both fists to the sky and screamed, "How! Tell me!"

"Your sons are coming for you. Coming from different directions, but coming."

The coals flickered and shifted as if they were underwater, and the Dream vanished.

Folding his arms over his chest, he hung his head and hugged himself, shivering violently in the cold. "My sons ..."

Wolf Dreamer stood on the cloud-capped ridge, watching the People wind toward him. Tender emotions of warmth caressed his breast. They'd returned, safe and sound. His eyes searched for old friends.

A gray curtain of snow slashed at the undulating plain, roaring up behind One Who Cries as he led his band around the twisted glacial rocks. Wind Woman battered at them, breath like a knife in the chill of oncoming evening.

Wavering voices came to him on the gale.

"Thought we wouldn't make it!" Singing Wolf called, a smile on his lips as he pointed to the puffing billows of Heron's geyser where the steam blew away in torn clouds. "Looked like the storm would get us first."

"It's Wolf Dreamer!" One Who Cries shouted back, lifting a hand to wave.

He waved back, a smile lighting his deeply tanned face. The band trudged up to meet him.

"Well," Singing Wolf said, puffing out his cheeks. "We're here. I can't say how much I dreamed of this little valley in the last year." He turned, smiling. "It's good to see you, Wolf Dreamer."

"And you, cousin," he said, clapping the man gently on the shoulder. "Seeing you kindles a warmth in my breast. How was the Renewal?"

Singing Wolf exchanged a glance with One Who Cries before lowering his eyes to frown at the icy ground.

Wolf Dreamer tensed, gaze roving the People.
So many new women.
He studied them, sullen, bent under heavy burdens, eyes filled with hatred. The dogs were packed, even the puppies. So much baggage? For only a seasonal migration? He spied Mouse; she'd remarried to Three Falls. Her hair was cut short. Quickly he looked over the group.
So many widows.

"What's happened?"

One Who Cries said through a long exhale, "The People are in trouble."

"What kind?"

' 'Raven Hunter raided the camps of the Others all summer." Singing Wolf looked away. "I went with him, once. I saw things that sickened me."

"Have they returned the attacks? Is that why so many of the women—"

"Yes, many times. All the clans are suffering. Our own young men are running off to defend their villages or avenge -deaths even as we speak."

An ache touched Wolf Dreamer's stomach. He whispered, "During the Long Dark? That's crazy. No one can survive."

"Crow Caller," One Who Cries said reluctantly, "is promising the warriors spirit protection from the Soul Eaters."

His gut twisted at the name. He clenched his fists tightly to still the rising tide of emotion. "Don't they know by now he's a false Dreamer?"

Singing Wolf lightly kicked an ice-encrusted rock rooted to the ridge top. "Your brother has convinced most otherwise."

"Blessed Star People!" He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on the chill breath of Wind Woman flooding his face and flapping his hood. "Heron will know what to do. Come, let's seek her counsel."

"Are you sure she won't mind us being around?" Singing Wolf moaned. "We don't want her mad at us."

"She sent me to find you. She won't mind—at least not for a while.''

In relief, Singing Wolf and One Who Cries laughed and

nodded, heading up the trail. People straggled behind them, the Other women casting hard looks at him as they labored past. Green Water herded several small children.

She smiled as she climbed to stand beside him. "You're looking well, Runs In ... Wolf Dreamer."

He returned her smile feebly, wanting desperately to ask about Dancing Fox, but frightened of the answer. "You too, Green Water," he said lamely.

She laid a tender hand on his sleeve, a pained look in her soft brown eyes. "She's not here."

"She stayed with—"

"No. It's a long story."

"Tell me."

"She followed you, ran away."

"What ..." The air went out of his lungs.
She tried to come to me.
"What stopped her?"

"Your brother found her before she escaped and dragged her back to Crow Caller.''

Hatred welled hotly. His brother . . . always trying to hurt him. "What happened then?"

"Crow Caller accused her of adultery and cast her out. Raven Hunter . . . took 'care' of her." She tilted her head awkwardly, face downcast.

"Are you trying to tell me he . . ."

She lifted her eyes to probe his apologetically. "He kept her alive."

No! His own brother had raped the woman he loved?
He rubbed hands roughly over his face, hiding his shock and disgust. "Raven Hunter. Everything comes back to Raven Hunter."

Green Water chewed her lip for a moment, looking at him from reserved, pool-like eyes. "She is coming."

His gaze shot to the trail and he took a halting step forward. She caught his arm.

"It won't be for a while."

"Why? Where is she?"

"Talon befriended her after Crow Caller cursed her soul. Together they left the camps, lived for a while in exile. Now she comes here, fleeing Raven Hunter's robes. Talon left the band to go off and die. Fox went looking for her and found

us the next morning, saying she would stay with her friend until the end."

"The storms are coming!"

Green Water pulled him back by the sleeve as he started up the trail. "She'll be fine. She's . . . well, not the girl you once knew. The last year has hardened her, like a good dart shaft in fire. She's fine out there. The girl you knew is gone ... as is the young man she once smiled at."

He swallowed, searching her honest face.

"Trust me. She'll be here in her own time."

"But she's coming."

His eyes fixed on the distant horizon where snow-heavy clouds twisted across the heavens and his heart pounded in anticipation, hope like a dull blade in his gut.

"She's well," Green Water comforted. "For an expelled woman. Just don't expect her to—"

"I'll punish him." He knotted a fist inside his thick mittens. "I swear, I'll pay him back."

"Shhh!" She placed mittened fingers to his lips. "Don't, Wolf Dreamer. Don't say it aloud. Not now. We need some--one strong and wise to lead us. The People are already shredded like a mouse skin in a weasel's mouth."

He stood stiffly, not breathing. People straggled by, figures black in the night, battered by Wind Woman's merciless breath. So many? How would they feed them all? Diffidently, he forced himself to turn and blend with the flow of bodies. He had to talk to Heron.

As they rounded the corner, he could see Heron's shelter and the People gathering in awe on the banks of the hot springs. Murmurs of amazement filtered through the crowd. He searched but didn't see the old Dreamer.
Curious. She usually greets people before they get this close.

Gazing through the eddying bodies, he looked to her shelter. The flap hung motionless. Somewhere in the back of his mind, dread built, a feeling as terrible as if the end of the world had come. He picked up his feet to run, panic increasing with each pounding step. Stopping before the flap, he shouted, "Heron!"

No answer came.

Breathlessly, he called again, "Heron?" He felt as though

his heart were breaking and he didn't know why. He stepped forward cautiously in the dark.

"Wolf Dreamer?"

He turned at Broken Branch's voice. "Where's Heron?"

The old woman waddled out of the dark, features illuminated by a burning knot of willow root. "In there . . . When you left to find the People, she did something. Said I should leave her alone."

From her ancient fingers, he took the root and clamped it hard in his trembling fingers. Then, bending low, he stepped inside, the fire flickering and jumping yellowly off the walls.

On the floor, Heron glared up at him, glassy eyes shining eerily in the light of the torch. Beside her lay gatherings of willow stems and . . . mushrooms. Their flat black shapes loomed dangerous, deadly, where they lay exposed in the folds of the fox hide.