People of the Wolf (13 page)

"The witch was there. Watching."

"I thought you didn't see anyone."

"I didn't. But I know the feel of the witch's vision. Like the way a dart shaft fits in the hand. Familiar. You don't have to look down to know your dart. It's the texture, the balance, the weight. She has that feel, this witch."

Red Flint scratched the side of his weathered face. "You think she's calling you? Maybe witched you? We could have a Sing, try and drive her off. Maybe we can throw it all back at her, hurt her—"

"No." He lifted a hand. "It's something else. Some awakening of Power that's stirred her . . . and me. Something's happening."

Red Flint stared somberly into the fire. Golden flickers reflected in his narrowed eyes. "You know the other clans aren't doing well. Tiger Belly Clan lost a lot of ground last-year. Hundreds of young men were killed fighting the Glacier People. To the west, the Round Hoof Clan was pushed away from the Great Lake. They've been chased clear into Buffalo Clan's area. Face it, we've been pushed out of all our old places."

"The whole world is changing and there aren't enough of us anymore to-push our enemies back."

"Is that what the witch is telling you?"

Ice Fire coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's part of it, but there's more. She draws me south for another reason."

"What?"

"It has something to do with that Dream Walk I made years ago, after my wife was killed. I traveled many days' journey over difficult country. For two weeks, I went without food. I remember sleeping on a rocky pinnacle. The rock grew up out of the ground, rising so high I could look down on the birds. To the south, I saw a huge wall of white, and beyond it, a free land, full of animals but empty of humans.''

"But we have Enemy to the south," Red Flint pointed out.

"Now, but not then."

"Should we try to go to that land?"

"I'm not sure. The Dream was unclear and the next day I found the Enemy woman. We were to come together, she and I. I could . . . could feel the Tightness of it. A healing, if you will. Her long hair swirled in the wind. Water crashed about her feet. In a Dream haze, I walked up to her and she smiled. We coupled passionately, she and I, there by the sea, and I planted my seed in her."

"But that part was real." Red Flint's bushy brows lowered.

"Yes . . . and no." Ice Fire winced and ran hard fingers over his face. "The vision broke as I got up and looked . . . looked into the Watcher's eyes. And the woman ... I raped her. Left her broken and crying on the sand. She who I should have loved and cherished, I destroyed."

"And you think the witch who haunts your sleep caused this?"

"I'm not sure."

Red Flint shifted uncomfortably, retrieving a stick to prod the fire into crackling brilliance. "What happened next?"

"I turned and saw all the clans following in my tracks, chased by all kinds of enemies."

"That's how the Dream ended?"

Ice Fire blinked, shrugging lightly. "No. After seeing what happened on the beach that day, I ran. You know, getting away from the horror. That night I had nightmares . . . one after another. The woman in the Dream stood up and offered her hands to me. In one lay a piece of meat. In the other she held her dart."

"Life or death?"

"I read it so." He propped his chin on his palms. "Then I looked behind me and the sea was rushing in, trying to swallow us all. I took the meat and the woman smiled again, saying, 'You and I are one. We are one.' Then she took my hand and turned into a great bird, the Storm Bird, and flew with me, far to the south to the middle of the new land beyond the white wall."

Red Flint sucked at his teeth for a moment, thinking. "And that's why you've always forced us to move south, despite the dwindling game?"

"Not since I went on that quest have I felt the spirit move

so powerfully within me. Until now. It plagues me, keeps me from sleeping. I feel driven, as if the witch pushes me to bring all the clans south."

Red Flint squinted-at the firelight dancing across the ceiling. "But the rest of the clans won't come. They say there's no warrior's honor there. The Enemy scatters before us like seagulls from a thrown rock.''

' 'I know.'' He turned to search his friend's concerned face. "And what if I can't save our people before the sea comes to drown them?"

"Then our clan will push south without them. In all of this, there is one certainty; these gutless Enemy we face are few, and getting fewer. At least our clan can brush them out of the way like so many flies."

Ice Fire rubbed his hands together, feeling the calluses on his palms. "Perhaps. But I've dreamed of a young man. A tall, angry young man. I see him gathering his darts and bringing us death. He's a leader. The kind who can stir warriors. He ..."

"Goon."

"I may have to kill him."

Red Flint stared, motionless. "You've killed before. Why does that bother you so?"

Ice Fire turned anguished eyes on him. "I'm not sure I can."

"Why not?"

"I ... I think he's my son."

Anxiously, Wolf Dreamer looked out over the rugged land. It undulated in sharp peaks. Wind Woman's harsh breath left them tottering on their feet. The emptiness provided no solace. In the crevasses, thick stands of willow and dwarf birch locked the snow, making hazardous traps into which he'd

fallen more than once, floundering out with a dangerous waste of energy. Slick ice slopes had to be negotiated, treacherous footing always a peril. He could risk no fall, no broken bones. It would mean his death.

And the People were
his
responsibility.

Like the weight of a mammoth tusk on his shoulders, the burden bore down on him. The taste of Wolf's blood rested eternally on the back of his tongue, the fire of the Dream pushing him onward.

It had been real.

As tormented days passed, he fought to convince himself that Wolf hadn't played trickster with him. To joke so with the lives of the People lay outside his comprehension. Runs In Light stopped, leaning on his dart shafts, looking out at the piled rock where snow packed the rounded gray boulders.

"Another Dream Hunt?" he whispered, feeling the presence of the Soul Eaters of the Long Dark hovering close, held at bay for these few short hours of light. "I'm too tired.''
If only I could rest, lie down in the snow, and let the Long Dark suck my life away into Wind Woman's chant. Death would be release.
He clenched his jaw, silently chastising himself.
Coward.

He took a deep breath and drove himself over the crest of a ridge, forcing his crying body beyond its feeble limitations. Behind him they came, bellies hollow, the flesh of their faces sagging, accusation in their eyes. Most no longer believed in the hole in the ice.

"Wolf?" he pleaded hoarsely.
"Lead me. "

He looked back, seeing One Who Cries and Jumping Hare stop and begin cutting into the side of a tapered drift. With a sharpened bison scapula, they removed blocks of frozen snow, gouging out a shelter with the shoulder bone.

"Must we camp here?" he whispered.

He saw Broken Branch and the sight filled him with pity. She still waddled along, sallow-faced, the glow of the Dream in her eyes.

Clenching his fist, he walked away from the digging—away from the People.

Wind Woman blew twisting wraiths of snow over him in a veil. The crystals clattered in muted defiance across the empty

land. Upward, ever upward, how far had they climbed into these craggy hills? Cold and desolate, this land around them could have been the chill spine of some monster of the ice. Wind-ravaged and worn, the blue-black rock loomed, massive in the darkening night.

"So many mouths, Wolf. So little food."

Out of sight of the camp, Runs In Light sank to his knees, mittens clutching the forever snow.

"Was my Dream false?" he cried to the gathering spirits of the Dark. Head bowed, he could feel them rustle restlessly around him, their fingers already pulling at his soul.

Moonlight tarnished the slopes, gleaming silver from the polished drifts. Yellow hollows flickered and shimmered where moss and birch fires illuminated shelter holes dug into the snow. Through wavering clouds, the Star People glistened, watching.

Dancing Fox crouched behind the shelter, listening to the turmoil inside. Weeping pierced the haunting death songs. Gray Rock had grown desperately weak, her frail old body unable to take the long torturous days of endless walking and climbing. A deep aching regret tormented Fox. She wanted to rush inside and hold the old woman in her arms, rocking her back and forth while she poured out words of love and gratitude.

But she was an outcast. She could not enter the lodge unless someone mercifully asked her to, and she feared Gray Rock was too far gone for that.

She shuddered there in the bitter cold, her breath a white mist in the air. Wind stung her face, carrying the pitiful mourning of wolves.

"Why don't you leave?" she whispered angrily to herself. But she both knew and hated the reasons. They were too far away from Runs In Light now and she feared the snowstorms had long since covered the trail he'd left for her. She could not touch the food reserves of the clan. If she ran away, it would be without food or weapons.

A hollowness throbbed below her heart. If only she could reach Runs In Light, he'd help her, comfort her. Knowing that only made her struggle for survival more unbearable.

The singing inside stopped suddenly.

Twining fingers tightly in her parka, she waited, fearing the worst. Feet crunched softly on snow behind her.

"She was a good woman," Raven Hunter said regretfully. "I'm sorry Jumping Hare isn't here."

Her back muscles crawled. "I wish I could—"

"You can't," he said sympathetically. "They fear your cursed soul would interfere with her rise to the Blessed Star People."

She looked up at him. His brooding eyes gleamed darkly in the reflected moonlight. "Why did you come out?"

He crouched beside her in the dark and she could feel his warmth on .her face. "I had another glimpse in there."

"Of what?"

"We'll see the death of the People, you and I. Unless something is done."

"So?" she spat hatefully.

Wails rose sharply in the shelter to pierce the wind. Bitterly, she murmured, "She's dead."

She closed her eyes, trying not to think of the dead they'd left behind. Old Talon would be next. She already staggered-on wobbly legs. Where would the deaths end?

"I placed some meat in your pack. It's not much. Some strips I salvaged from a winter-killed buffalo. What the wolves left, I cleaned up before the crows got it. I'll bring the bones in tomorrow. There's enough bone butter there to keep another couple of souls with their bodies for a while longer."

She ignored him, staring dry-eyed at the shelter, remembering the little scraps of food Gray Rock had left from her share of the band's scavenged meals. Such a welcome kindness. Gray Rock had been one of the few to share, to talk guardedly and wink occasional support.

"I'll miss Gray Rock," Fox whispered miserably. "She never forgot that I needed to hear a kind voice on occasion."

Raven Hunter sat silently, listening. She appreciated that, knowing she'd pay later when he crawled into her robes. Someone had begun to sob uncontrollably inside the shelter. Numbly, Dancing Fox stood. In a moment, Raven Hunter, too, got to his feet.

"I suppose you'll come by to force me again tonight?"

He shrugged. "You have no one to speak for you. I don't hurt you. With Gray Rock gone, who else but me will speak

kindly to you? Besides, I leave you enough to get by. You eat better in disgrace than Crow Caller's pets in fine social standing."

"I hate you, you know." She walked away.

"I'm not your enemy, Dancing Fox."

"Then what are you? My keeper? Why didn't you let me just go? Why drag me back here?''

He walked slowly, snow crunching under the soft layers of his long-booted feet. "Because I love you. I won't have you dying in the snow."

Anger swept her. "You don't love me!" She spat into the snow to emphasize her point. "I'm nothing more than amusement for you. And I can't do a maggot-cursed thing about it."