People of the Earth (50 page)

 
          
 
Brave Man staggered, lances of pain driving
through his head. Pale Raven barely held his weight as he gasped and pressed
one hand against the side of his head. With the other, he held on to her as the
world spun.

 
          
 
"Are you all right?" she asked,
steadying him.

 
          
 
Dusk was falling, the air growing still with
the coming of night. Before them, wreaths of blue smoke lingered around the
lodge tops as the evening fires were lit. She had helped him out to the bushes
to attend to nature's call. Now they were returning to the lodge.

 
          
 
Be ready! the voices hisses in Brave Man's
head. The sign comes! Use it . . . use it to turn them.

 
          
 
"The sign," Brave Man whispered.
"It's coming.

 
          
 
Pale Raven gave him a worried frown. "What
sign? Is this more talk of Power and Dreams? You already have the entire camp
in an uproar."

 
          
 
Brave Man gulped deep breaths against the
wrenching pain in his head. He forced himself to move, leaning on Pale Raven to
support his bad leg. "The sign!" he shouted desperately. People stuck
their heads around their lodge flaps to peer at him. "It's coming! Look!
Look!"

 
          
 
People grumbled and ducked out into the
growling darkness of night, standing awkwardly as their gazes drifted
uncertainly about the camp.

 
          
 
Brave Man and Pale Raven had covered half the
distance back to the lodge when the sky behind them flared in an eerie,
greenish light. People gasped and pointed at the glowing heavens to the east.

 
          
 
This is your moment, the voices prodded. Seize
it! Take control of the Broken Stones.

 
          
 
'There! See! I have called upon the Sun to
send us a sign! Look!" Brave Man cried out in vindication and pointed at
the streak of viridian light that angled across the sky. ''Behold! My call is
answered! A path of green fire is blazed southward across the sky!"

 
          
 
He propped himself on his bad leg, standing
free of Pale Raven, and raised his hands to the now-fading streak in the sky.
"Hear me, Thunderbird! Brave Man thanks you for this gift!" He
gritted his teeth against the pain and took a step on his bad leg. Agony burned
as bright as the light in the sky, but the knitting joint held his weight.
"See me! Thunderbird sends a sign to the Broken Stones! / walk! So shall I
lead the warriors to the south to crush the Wolf People!"

 
          
 
He stared around in the growing gloom, seeking
out face after face as the stunned Broken Stones stared at the silver glow that
still washed the sky. Their expressions were wide-eyed with wonder. A deathly
silence gripped the camp.

 
          
 
Brave Man took another step of searing
punishment. "I walk!" he cried. "I hear your way, Thunderbird! I
hear your call for war! The Wolf People block our path to the south. The Broken
Stones will clear the way. Who follows Brave Man? Who follows the path
Thunderbird burned across the sky?"

 
          
 
Flying Hawk stepped out, raising his arms.
"I follow the path of Thunderbird. I hear the new Dreamer of the People. I
will go south and crush the Wolf People!"

 
          
 
Brave Man whooped his joy to the night sky.
One by one, the young men stepped forth, singing, shouting their willingness to
make war on the Wolf People.

 
          
 
Brave Man Sang to the night, calling forth the
Power of the Spirit World and the Camp of the Dead. He called upon Thunderbird
and the Sun, the pain in his maimed leg drowned in the triumph of the moment.

 
          
 
Pale Raven followed to one side as Brave Man
cried and pointed at the sky. With narrowed eyes she watched the camp come to
life, leaping and Dancing. Brave Man stood unaided and Sang his Spirit vision
to the darkening night. A thrill tickled up her spine. This young Brave Man had
Power; she could feel it on the throbbing night air.

 
          
 
How could he stand like that? His shattered
knee had barely begun to knit. The pain should have shocked him colorless and
left him faint and reeling, yet he walked, albeit slowly and stiff-legged,
among the whirling Dancers.

 
          
 
Someone threw wood on the central fire and the
flames leaped up. She stared around, noting the excitement in the eyes of her
people. Power had come to them—and, through Brave Man, to her.

 
          
 
As she reflected on that fact, she noticed the
figure in the shadows. Sun Feathers watched from the darkness. She could
imagine Sun Feathers'
slitted
eyes as Brave Man
gathered the reins of Spirit Power. The old man's hold on the Broken Stones was
slipping from his gnarled fingers.

 
          
 
She could sense the anger that festered in
that shadowy shape. The old Soul Flier would be forced to act now. He backed
away and slipped into the darkness.

 
          
 
And if he destroys Brave Man, what will happen
to me? Pale Raven kept to the shadows as she stalked Sun Feathers. She rolled
up her sleeves, running her hands along the muscles of her arms. Years of
scraping and graining hides, of carrying firewood and slabs of heavy meat, had
built strength into her body.

 
          
 
This would have to be done very carefully.

           
 
Bad Belly fell into the Dream, his body loose
and disjointed as it dropped through the gray mist. He tumbled and floated
while splotches of golden light dappled the haze . . .

           
 
Wisps of fire penetrated the mist to swirl
around him. He cringed, instinctively fearing the flame, but no heat scorched
his flesh. In an instant the flames twisted around and became patches of
blowing, dancing snow. Bad Belly settled softly into a terrifying landscape.
Fire faded into streamers of snow that blew off drifts, intermingling, curling
in long spirals to become streaks of flame again. The piled drifts burned
redly
, as if in defiance of the contradiction of fire and
snow.

 
          
 
"Impossible," Bad Belly whispered.
"Snow doesn't burn. It melts . . . and the melt-water would put out the
flames. This can't happen."

 
          
 
“It's Power, Still Water,'' a haunting voice
called from the smoky haze. "We brought you here to see for yourself. This
is what We are. Snow and fire. That is the legacy of the Wolf Bundle—the lesson
We would teach you.' '

 
          
 
"Snow and fire? You're the Wolf
Bundle?" Bad Belly watched in awe as the snowflakes burst into yellow-red
tongues of flame and flickered out in wisps of curled ash that turned back into
snowflakes.

 
          
 
"We are the Wolf Bundle. We are One.
"

 
          
 
The image splintered into a thousand
fragments, each with a voice, as if every snowflake and every wisp of flame
possessed a face. A thousand voices intertwined to become a moaning howl in the
air around him. As quickly, the images merged again into the burning snow.

 
          
 
"For as long as We have existed, We have
taken Power from those around us. We have shared ourselves with others, twining
our Power with theirs. We have been loved and feared, desecrated and renewed.
The world remains eternal and forever changing. A new people come from the
north. What is new must mix with what is old. Come to Us, Still Water. Come and
take Us. We have things to teach the Dreamer. We have things to teach you.”

           
 
"Why me?" Bad Belly called out,
fingers of fear tightening in his gut.

 
          
 
"Your father is Cattail. He carried Us
south to the People of the Earth. There, patterns were woven like the strands
of a basket. We wait now to see what comes . . . and hope We are not too late.
''

           
 
“Patterns?"

 
          
 
"Come for Us. A storm brews in the north.
He who would destroy the Dream seeks the way to the One. He feels Power. We
knew this new Dreamer would be strong. We didn’t know that events would turn
him against Us. Not even Power can control the flood of the future. He must be
stopped before he destroys Us—destroys the Dream. Come for Us . . . before it's
too late. Come, Still Water. Come . . . "

 
          
 
The Dream shifted, burning snowdrifts fading
into irregular patterns that solidified into a forest as a bird might perceive
it.

 
          
 
From his vantage point, he could see
fierce-eyed warriors slipping through the thick timber. War darts rattled as
the men gripped
atlatls
in strong fists. He floated
over the spiked tops of spruce and fir, and then out over a meadow where a camp
lay in the eerie sunlight. Lodges had been toppled, their covers ripped apart.
The fire pits held lenses of cold coals, and ash had been kicked about.

 
          
 
At sight of the bodies sprawled in the
trampled grass, Bad Belly's breath caught in his throat. Some lay with arms and
legs outstretched. Dart shafts protruded from pierced flesh, and crimson soaked
their hide clothing. Others lay in blood-bright grass, their heads bashed open.
Flies hovered in shimmering columns over the bloating corpses.

 
          
 
A shadow passed overhead and Bad Belly craned
his neck to see ravens wheeling on the wind. Higher, black-and-white turkey
buzzards slipped silently down their relentless spirals.

 
          
 
The haze of gray shifted and a thousand voices
cried out, longing, frightened.

 
          
 
The sky darkened with frightening rapidity as
Bad Belly floated over the mountainous terrain. Below, a huge bonfire
flickered, sending shafts of light to snake between the trees. A circle of
warriors Danced around the fire and Sang their Power to the heavens. The rise
and fall of their voices rocked Bad Belly like waves of air. Vibrations of
their Power sent chills coursing through his soul. He tucked his knees to his
chest in a futile attempt to protect himself.

 
          
 
Captive women and children huddled in the
firelight, ringed by chanting warriors who leaped and whirled in their fantastic
Dance. The captives stared up at the pirouetting warriors with fear-glazed
eyes, expressions masks of terror and grief.

 
          
 
A strong voice split the night as it called
upon the Sun for Power. Bad Belly glanced back at the wrecked camp, then
returned to where the captives waited. A green glow burned in the night,
bobbing closer to the Dancers. The circle parted . . . and the smoky green glow
became a tall young man who limped into the firelight on a stiff leg. Power
radiated from the man, and the feel of it made Bad Belly ill.

 
          
 
The Powerful young man led a captive with one
hand, while in his other, he held up a bundle that glowed, its radiance like
the morning sun.

 
          
 
The fire flared up, illuminating the awestruck
faces of the spectators, wrapping its light around the captive: White Ash!

 
          
 
Bad Belly squirmed at the loathing fear he
sensed in her. He cried out to her, but the sound was borne away on the night
wind. A bruise purpled one side of White Ash's face, and her soul—so pure and
brilliant—began to fade before the hideous hues of the lame warrior's Power.

 
          
 
A brilliant dot of sickly green glowed through
White Ash's elk-hide dress, spreading, seeping like fungus between her legs. It
grew, sending tendrils into her womb and radiating through her pelvis.

 
          
 
Bad Belly wailed into the smothering night,
"No. Not White Ash. He planted a child in her!"

 
          
 
Bad Belly tried to swallow the choking knot
that swelled under his tongue. His lungs
spasmed
with
uncontrollable sobs as he shut his eyes.

 
          
 
Watch, the Wolf Bundle ordered.

 
          
 
Bad Belly blinked through a shimmer of tears
as the lame warrior dragged White Ash to stand beside the roaring fire.

 
          
 
"I am the Power of the Sun People!"
the terrible warrior claimed. He lifted the Wolf Bundle. "And I offer the
Power of the Wolf People to the greater Power of the Sun!"

 
          
 
With that, he cast the Wolf Bundle into the
crackling heart of the bonfire.

 
          
 
A horrified silence hung over the land. Then
one of the captive women threw herself into the fire, arms outstretched to
rescue the Wolf Bundle. Her hair burst into flame and her flesh blistered and
curled as she screamed and thrashed among the coals.

 
          
 
Wailing rose on the wind, as if the writhing
mass of people seared and burned in the heat. The keening grew louder,
deafening, until the very web of the gray mist pulsed in misery.

 
          
 
Bad Belly clutched at himself and wept.
Stunned and deafened, he strangled on fear. His soul had come loose, unhooked
from the world and all that was good. It whimpered into the nothingness.
Grayness pressed around him and pulsed to the beat of his frightened heart.

 
          
 
"Come for Us, Still Water. Take Us from
this, before it's too late for all. Come . . . come ..."

 
          
 
Bad Belly turned this way and that, frantic as
he batted at the fog. "Where are you? What happened?"

 
          
 
His flailing feet found a purchase on uneven
ground, but the footing went soft and mushy beneath his moccasins, as it would
if he walked on corrupt flesh. "Where are you? Where ..."

 
          
 
"Bad Belly?" The words cut through
the thickness of the Dream. "Bad Belly? Wake up!"

 
          
 
He blinked; fragments of the dream fell away
like old moss from a dead tree. "What?"

 
          
 
White Ash hugged him. "You called out in
your sleep. I'm here. It's all right. You're safe . . . with White Ash. You're
in your robes, in Singing Stones' shelter. You're all right."

 
          
 
He filled his lungs with the chilly night air
and tried to exhale the tension that left his ribs aching. "Power
Dream," he whispered. "The Wolf Bundle called to me. Took me up in
the air and let me see things—terrible, terrible things. You were there . .
."He clapped his hand to the side of his head, seeking to drive the memory
away. "No. This isn't happening. It's not happening!"

 
          
 
"Hush. It's all right. You're all right.
You're safe, Bad Belly. Safe." Her fingers bit insistently into his
flesh—her presence warm, reassuring, in the robes beside him.

 
          
 
He shivered and gulped the cool night air.
Sweat soaked his body. "The Wolf Bundle—it wants me to rescue it from the
Wolf People."

           
 
She froze. "Do you remember the stories
the Earth People tell of the time Cattail stole the Bundle? The Wolf People
came with every warrior they could muster. Men, women, elders, and children,
they all came with weapons on their shoulders. They camped just beyond the
summer Gathering, sending their elders to parley for the return of the
Bundle."

 
          
 
Bad Belly tried to swallow his fright.
"Cattail—the man who stole the Bundle from the Wolf People—is my father.
In the Dream, the Bundle mentioned something about patterns, about things set
in motion years ago."

 
          
 
"That's right," Singing Stones'
rusty voice grated in the darkness. "I saw the Wolf Bundle for the first
time when Cattail stole it and brought it to the Gathering. When I picked it
up, Power ran through my bones and strengthened my muscles. I felt . . . and my
life changed forever. I spoke for the Wolf Bundle, telling the clans to let it
go back to the Wolf People." He paused. "Nothing was ever the same
after that. I looked at the world through different eyes. I heard through
different ears. The thoughts in my head had changed. What had been important
before meant nothing. The things I once craved had gone hollow—like a tree
eaten away by carpenter ants. I tried to be my old self and finally gave that
up for the illusion it was. I came here, to the mountains, to be close to the
Wolf Bundle and to seek the One.

 
          
 
"The Bundle called me." Bad Belly
stared emptily into the darkness, feeling the presence of the Spiral painted on
the back wall. "It said a storm is brewing in the north. What does that
mean? In spring, storms are always ... I saw . . . I saw-"

 
          
 
"It's a storm, all right. A human
storm," Singing Stones interrupted. "They're moving south, and unless
a new way is Dreamed, they'll crush everything before them. That's why the Wolf
Bundle called you, Still Water. It's calling for a new Keeper. You must go. You
must stand before this new Spirit Man of the Sun People. If you don't, he will
destroy First Man's Dream—replace it with his own—and change the Spiral. Accept
your destiny. Try to rescue the Wolf Bundle."