People of the Wolf (28 page)

"Why did you stop?"

"Crow Caller. He'll be there. So will all the others who survived. The story of his casting me out will have gone around. No, Grandmother, I want you to walk in with me."

Talon studied her from the corner of her eye. "Not ready to go it alone, eh?"

Dancing Fox fought a flush of embarrassment. "I ... Maybe. Still, no matter what I think, I owe it to you. We go together. It would be ... more proper."

Why do I lie?

The dogs saw them first, running out yapping, growling, snarling, their hair stiff and menacing. Dancing Fox slapped them away with her darts. Children followed on the heels of the dogs, calling "Who comes? Who comes?"

"This is Talon," she called. "I'm Dancing Fox."

An older boy, evidently the leader, stopped short, kicking one of the big dogs out of the way, a deep frown on his forehead. He was tall and thin, his face long and eyes small. "Are you the wife Crow Caller cursed?"

Dancing Fox stiffened. "I am."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "You supposed to be around a Renewal? Your soul won't do anything? Cause sickness or the Others to find us?"

Talon brushed past her shoulder. "Who are you, young brat? Did no one teach you manners?" She charged him on her thin sticks of legs, the youth's eyes going wide as he scrambled back.

"I'm sorry!" he bawled. "Forgive, Grandmother. I didn't mean you. I was only . . . only—"

"Only acting like an animal!" Talon spat. "Oh, your parents will hear! I promise that. And so will the leader. This may have been a bad year, but that's no excuse for sniveling

brats like you to lose your manners and act like maggots in the body of the People!"

The youth turned on his heel—eyes downcast in shame— and ran. The rest of his group stared wide-eyed and broke after a heartbeat, pounding away after him.

"Looks like my fame has spread far and wide." Dancing Fox sighed. "This may not be pleasant."

Talon turned to face her. "You knew that before we came here. But don't be so worried. After Crow Caller killed so many, people will think twice about his curse."

"We'll see."

They plodded forward, weaving through the array of hide lodges, seeing hundreds of new faces.

"Look over there," Talon said, pointing. "Isn't that One Who Cries and Singing Wolf?"

Fox held her breath, searching the faces of the people near the two men, searching for Runs In Light. "I don't see . . ."

"I don't see him either. But the fact that two of his cousins are here means he led them safely. They didn't die."

Pride welled in her chest, a broad smile lighting her face. "Yes, it does."

Talon clucked her lips, muttering incoherently under her breath. "Well, let's go find your hero. Maybe he'll let us move right into his lodge, eh? You figure he needs an old woman to sew for him? Cook? Maybe tell your brat kids the old stories?"

Dancing Fox grinned, patting the old woman's shoulder. "After Seagull's death, I'm sure he'd be grateful."

At One Who Cries' shelter, she called out politely. Green Water ducked through, waving at the horde of flies, a slow smile coming to her face. "Dancing Fox!"

"Green Water! You lived. The Wolf Dream ... it was true."

Green Water's warm hug enfolded her first, Talon next. She stepped back, looking Fox up and down, her broad face beaming. "Yes, the Dream kept us alive. As to the hole in the Big Ice, who knows? But we found a haven from the Others."

Dancing Fox's eyes cast around hopefully. "And Runs In Light?"

"He's not here."

"Not ..." Her heart stopped.

In her calm way, Green Water took her hand and motioned for them to enter the low tent. "He's stayed at old Heron's to learn to become a great Dreamer."

"Heron!" Talon gasped.

Green Water nodded. "Yes, she's more than a legend."

As she sat down on thick robes, Dancing Fox looked her confusion at Talon, seeing reservation in the old woman's eyes, some veiled secret. ' 'Why would he stay with her? He's already a great Dreamer."

Green Water leaned forward, earnest eyes on hers. "He wants to be as great as Heron. Better even, maybe."

Talon slapped gnarled age-spotted hands on her knees. Her eyes met Fox's, challenging. "If that's the case, girl, he'll never have time for you."

"I don't—"

'
'Dreaming!''
Talon hissed to herself, eyes focused someplace beyond the shelter.
"Real Dreaming!
The People need a Dreamer. Been so long since we had one. And now . . . who'd think it would be Runs In Light?"

"But I don't—"

Talon started, attention returning to the present. "No, of course you don't! Girl, if he's going to be a Dreamer, he's become a man possessed. Oh, he'll know you, and if he really cares for you, he might even be swayed from his Dreams. But know this, Fox. Even if you win him back for a while, draw him away, he'll never be all yours. Never."

A cold hand tightened on the bottom of her heart. "Why not?"

"Because the visions cage a Dreamer's soul and never let it go."

Rocky ridges surrounded the small camp, boulders jutting high into the cold night air. Small bushes grew in the crevices, leaves silvered by starlight.

Five men, tall, long-legged, walked in graceful single file through the rocks. Hoods dangled over their shoulders, the blank eyes of wolves, foxes, and eagles staring from the hides wrapping their heads. Their eyes searched in the manner of hunters. Mammoth hide wrapped around their loins like thick belts. Long darts, fletched with eagle feathers, were clutched in bony hands.

They didn't see Raven Hunter or the rest of the young men hidden in the boulders. Fierce they might be, but they also walked arrogantly, heads high.

Heart thudding in his chest, every limb vibrant with excitement, Raven Hunter waited. Soon, now. Very soon. The first man had walked well within the trap. Wait. None must escape.

Despite his fear-dry mouth and the charged blood rushing in his veins, Raven Hunter floated on a crest of exaltation. Here, before him, walked the murderers of his people. Now, at last, he would strike back. By this act, the People would prove themselves, and under
his
leadership. Despite his youth, he would step into the circles of power and decision where he belonged. A feeling of invincibility and premonition burned in his breast.

"Shhh!" he hissed to Jumping Hare, whose foot slipped on loose rock.

The last Other walked within range.

Raven Hunter bunched his muscles, rising, his cast sure from years of practice. The dart pierced the man's chest. He spun, gasping "no!" then quivered, dropping his atlatl, a look of incomprehension on his face as he tumbled to the ground.

A frightened murmuring eddied through the Others. Men raced, tripping over each other, raising weapons.

"There they are!" one shouted, pointing up into the rocks.

Raven Hunter nocked another dart, driving it deeply into the chest of the second-to-last man, his aim true. On all sides, Jumping Hare, Strikes Lightning, Three Falls, and Eagle Cries bounded to their feet, darts flashing in the air.

It ended quickly, leaving Others writhing on the ground. Blood smeared frantic hands as they groaned and gasped, clutching the shafts protruding from their bodies. Raven Hunter jumped lightly down the rocks. Two! He'd killed two! Brutally, he wrenched his dart from the body of the first, delighted with the gouts of coagulating blood that followed.

"Don't! Don't!" the man whispered. His eyes pinned Raven Hunter's, growing still and sightless as foaming blood welled on his lips.

"Filthy murderer!" Raven Hunter growled, then spat in the Other's face before turning to the second, lancing him through the heart.

Around him, the rest of his victorious party clambered down slowly, eyes wide, shocked at what they'd done. Moving from man to man, Raven Hunter dispatched them with calculated jabs of his bloody dart.

Jumping Hare shook his head slowly, staring at the man his dart had killed.

Raven Hunter eyed his cousin curiously. "They aren't so terrible in death, eh? No longer will they run us from our ancestral lands—lands given to us by Father Sun! A new day has dawned,
We are the People!"

Strikes Lightning smiled proudly. "The People," he repeated. Then in relief and joy, he jumped high into the air, a yip of delight clearing his throat.

One by one, they caught the fire as Raven Hunter walked about, clapping each on the back, praising courage and cunning.

"And to think we ran?
Ran,
from such as
these!"
He raised a fist and shook it in the air. "No more, eh, my friends? No, indeed! Together, we shall drive these men back!" He bellowed a shriek of victory to the skies. "We won't let them chase us like frightened caribou from the land where our fathers' bones rest in peace!"

Eagle Cries pursed his lips tightly, nodding. "No more."

"Follow me!" Raven Hunter urged conspiratorially. "Follow and we'll drive these Others from
our
land!"

Softly, Eagle Cries began the chant, "Raven Hunter. Raven Hunter!
Raven Hunter.
" Then it was picked up by the others, growing louder until it boomed from the surrounding rocks.

Ice Fire let his soul sway to the chant of the White Tusk Clan's singers. The elder, Red Flint, led the younger men in the ancient songs that would placate the souls of the animals, call them back into reach of the Mammoth People's weapons in the future.

In the endless light of the solstice, summer had reached its peak. The sun hung like a growing golden ball in the sky, the gift of the Great Mystery. The shelters of the White Tusk Clan spread around, built higher in this season of moderate winds. Ice Fire could smell the odor of roasting buffalo and caribou. The memory of fawn backstrap, cut from the side of the spine, hung at the back of his tongue, a savory feast of wondrous delight.

Young women surrounded the dancers, clapping their hands, smiles on their happy faces. Dogs nosed about, seeking scraps, the males hoisting their legs on tent corners, lifting lips in the eternal pecking order of the pack. A constant babble of happy voices rose and fell with Red Flint's singing.

The shelters reflected prosperity. The children were firm-limbed, with full faces. Clothing—newly made—graced strong arms and legs. Spires of flies hovered around the drying racks surrounding the ceremonial camp of the White Tusk Clan. Best of all, no widows watched from the outskirts, no short hair could be seen. Despite the horrors of the Dark, this long summer had graced them—a gift from the Great Mystery who'd all but forgotten them in the horrible winter.

Before Ice Fire, the young men leapt and danced, their feet stamping in rhythm with the wavering chants. He closed his eyes, drawing deeply of the smoke of the willow. A sacred plant, the willow; its odor soothed, purified the soul. In the annual clan festivals, the willow made them all whole.

Ice Fire opened his eyes again to stare into the fire, feeling the harmony of life around him. Flames licked and twisted, shafts of yellow light rising, sparks whirling. He stilled his mind, enjoying the peace of this evening.

In the coals, he watched the patterns flow and change by the second. Entranced, he watched the eddies of wind over

the burning eye, feeling the Power before he was really aware of it. Out of the curls of light, a face formed, staring back at him.

"Who are you?" he asked, the Clan Dance fading out around him, only the chant carrying him forward.

"You ask, Father?"

Ice Fire knotted a fist at his breast. "Who ..."

"I threw you a rainbow once. Wasn't that enough?"

"Father? You call me Father?"

"The man who raped my mother. Now you come for the rest of us? Go away. Leave our lands that Father Sun blessed for us. Give us—" He cried out suddenly.

A pain lanced through Ice Fire's breast, a sharp sting like the cool keen edge of a dart piercing him.

"Death," the face in the fire whispered. "My brother has killed the Others. See them? See their bodies lying bleeding and broken?"

A vision formed in the back of Ice Fire's mind. Five crumpled figures, flies thick in the clotted wounds, their eggs lining the torn flesh in ivory piles.

"Hoop Thrower, Five Stars, Mouse Tail ..." One by one, Ice Fire named them, the vision shimmering in the back of his mind. He stared at the face in the fire, swallowing hard. "You . . . you have done this?"

"My brother, Raven Hunter . . . your son . . . did this. I am Wolf Dreamer . . . born of your seed, man of the Others. You have reaped the actions of your lust. What you planted has grown in the rocky soil of the People. Pain, death, and misery walk with Raven Hunter."