People of the Earth (85 page)

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Authors: W. Michael Gear

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal

BOOK: People of the Earth
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"How?" Brave Man cried angrily. “How
did they get there? Why?" Something the Wolf Bundle had done? Perhaps
through the Power of the one-armed man who had appeared out of the Wolf
shaman's lodge?

 
          
 
“I don't know," Long Bone said nervously,
“but I sneaked close to their camp one night. A new war leader walked among
them. A young man I didn't know."

 
          
 
“Yes, yes, go on!"

 
          
 
Long Bone swallowed. “I took a great risk and
crawled to the edge of their camp like a shake. I heard the warriors talking.
Black Moon himself listens to this new war leader, as does Hot Fat. I saw him,
a tall young man. He walked with a beautiful woman with long black hair."
Brave Man barked, "Did you hear his name?" Long Bone nodded warily.
"Wind Runner." Wind Runner? How? Brave Man knotted both hands into
angry fists. Once again, old friend, we will face each other. This time I shall
kill you.

 
          
 
He
slitted
his eyes.
When the struggle for the
Wind
Basin
was over, he would find a high place and
have Wind Runner brought to him, his arms and legs bound. There—as in the
visions—he would raise a stone knife to the sun and slit Wind Runner's breast
open. He'd reach in and cut the pumping heart from the living body. With the
still-beating heart in his bloody hand, he would lift it on high—a gift to Sun
and Thunderbird. Payment for Power. His warriors would watch and be awed. White
Ash would . . .

 
          
 
White Ash! It all came clear. Long Bone had
said that a beautiful woman walked with Wind Runner. Brave Man cried, "He
has her! Tomorrow we leave! Tomorrow, Wind Runner, I'm coming for you!''

 
          
 
 

 
          
 
Steam rolled up from the boiling stones to
fill the dark sweat lodge. White Ash sat immobile. She let her soul sway with
the chant that Still Water mumbled next to her. She lost herself, following the
path within that she'd learned with such effort. The way came easily now as her
control over herself increased. The One lay just beyond.

 
          
 
She hovered at the edge, peace seeping through
her soul. The gray mist beckoned, pervasive. She gathered her courage, seeking
to cross the threshold, to force her way . . . and lost it.

 
          
 
Let go of yourself came the Wolf Bundle's soft
whisper through the retreating mist. She caught herself, retracing the path
inward. At the boundary of the One, she hesitated. Her soul pulsed and wavered,
the lingering sweetness of the One playing about her like butterfly wings.

           
 
Let go.

 
          
 
Trust the Wolf Bundle?

 
          
 
In desperation, and aware of no other choice,
she let her soul slip away into the current of Power granted by the Wolf
Bundle. Like the torrent of a river, the Power swept her into the gray mist.
She fell, tumbling, helpless . . . and the world became golden.

 
          
 
Dream, the Wolf Bundle told her. Dream the
One.

 
          
 
Power, like a fine mist, filled the air.
Beside her, Still Water glowed, his soul yellow and red. The hot stones in the
center of the sweat lodge wavered in fiery illumination. Despite the hides
piled over the framework of the lodge, she could sense the vegetation and the
somber rock around them. Insects, birds, even the mice in their nests down in
the rock, pulsed like little fires. Trouble appeared as a kindly whitish-red
gleam in the wavering blues and greens of the One.

 
          
 
She extended—and met resistance.

 
          
 
' 'Seek no farther, Mother of the People. We
stop you here, '' the firm voice of the golden man warned.

 
          
 
"Where are we?"

 
          
 
A flickering appeared, a light Dancing like
fire. The golden features of a young man, the beautiful young man of her
Dreams, floated in the One.

 
          
 
"I am Wolf Dreamer. The one you call
First Man. You are my Dream, Mother of the People. You have opened the
door-way. I ask you to enter no farther, for illumination will trap you as it
has trapped others.

 
          
 
"But it's so beautiful."

 
          
 
''You are Dreaming at the edge of the One,
feeling the Spiral/'

 
          
 
"I would feel more. Know more."

 
          
 
"Your time has not come. We need you to
Dream. The Wolf Bundle is the way. This time you have Dreamed enough. You’ve
learned well, Mother of the People. But do not lose yourself like Singing
Stones did. The lure of the One is Powerful. Your time to Dream the whole of
the One will come. "

 
          
 
"You stop me?"

 
          
 
“For the moment, but we cannot stop you
forever. You have a strength. We have hardened you, seeking to turn you to our
purpose.''

 
          
 
“What purpose is that, Wolf Dreamer?"

 
          
 
"To Dream a new way for the Sun People.
To Dream the Spiral for them. "

 
          
 
"And if I don't?"

 
          
 
"You already know the answer. The Spiral
will shift and my Dream will change. That which is will be different. Still
Water has seen what will come. You can save the Dream of First Man. The choice
is yours.''

 
          
 
She wept at the beauty. The Dancing lights
that illuminated the One glowed golden about her. A great peace infused the
very air. The silence Sang with beautiful voices. Souls shimmered, pulsing,
slipping from life to death as they filtered into the One and shifted the
Spiral ever so slightly.

 
          
 
"Wolf Dreamer, is this what Singing
Stones knew?"

 
          
 
''And what he could not deny in the end. He
Dreamed and could not return. Can you ? Will you Dream for us ? The Wolf Bundle
waits for you. Call upon it.''

 
          
 
"I don't want to leave here."

 
          
 
"Then all is lost. The Spiral will shift.
Brave Man will impose his terrible Dream on the Spiral.''

 
          
 
White Ash recoiled, drawing back.
"No!"

 
          
 
The gray mist drifted away. She could feel a hand
gripping her flesh as she reeled.

 
          
 
"White Ash?" Still Water's anxious
cry drew her soul back to her body. Heat suffocated her. She thrashed against
the hand that held her. Brave Man mocked from her memory.

 
          
 
"White Ash!" Still Water shouted.
"It's me! Still Water! You're safe. Safe."

 
          
 
She shivered, and a cry choked in her throat.
She lay back, cradled against his bad arm. He moved, leather rasping in the
darkness as he lifted the lodge flap. Light poured in to blind her.

 
          
 
She crawled out weakly to lie on the cool,
comforting surface of the earth. Dark clouds cloaked the sky. Reverently she
touched a blade of grass that tickled her cheek, aware of its life for the
first time.

 
          
 
"White Ash?" Still Water knelt
beside her.

           
 
She hugged the earth, as if to draw it into
herself and mix it with the beat of her heart.

 
          
 
Her tears burst out at the feel of his hand
stroking her hair. "Are you all right?"

 
          
 
She nodded, sniffling at the clogging wetness
in her nose. "So . . . beautiful. Oh, Still Water, it beats like a heart,
only differently. I talked to First Man. Beautiful. So . . . beautiful. My soul
cries at the thought of it."

 
          
 
She placed her lips against the soil and
breathed into it, sending colors winding down into the ground.

 
          
 
"How do you feel?" he pressed.

 
          
 
She rolled over, heedless of the dirt that
clung to her skin, and looked up at him. Her love swelled. She'd seen his soul,
been One with it. This man, who looked down at her with such concern, glowed of
love.

 
          
 
She reached up and pulled him down, crushing
him to her. "Fine, Still Water. I'm fine."

 
          
 
"You screamed," he muttered, half
smothered by her embrace. "A terrible scream."

 
          
 
"I know," she whispered, the voices
of the vision echoing in her ears. "Here—in this world, in the illusion—I
see. For the first time, I really see."

 
          
 
He drew back, searching her eyes. "I'm
not going to like it, am I?"

 
          
 
"I Dreamed the One, Still Water. I
Dreamed it."

 
          
 
"I felt . . . something." He rocked
back on his heels. "I heard the voices of the Wolf Bundle. I think we have
to go."

 
          
 
"Did you Dream the One, too?"

 
          
 
He stared at her, retreating into his own
vision. "If that's the One, I want no part of it."

 
          
 
She clasped his hand in hers. "Tell
me."

 
          
 
His face hardened. "I saw the lame
warrior, Brave Man. He walked through a world littered with the dead. Blood
soaked the soil, and people with fear in their eyes lifted their hands to him.
In the Dream, he looked up at me, and his face was filled with evil." He
swallowed. "He held up the Wolf Bundle, and I felt its Power." Still
Water's face contorted. "He'd turned it against the People, using it for
evil. He'd turned himself into a witch!"

 

 
          
 

Chapter 26

 

 
          
 
"I feel lost," White Ash whispered
to Still Water as they lay in their robes. Firelight flickered on the sooty
rocks of Singing Stones' shelter. Trouble lay stretched out across from her; he
watched her through soft eyes, eyebrows twitching. Traces of the One lingered
in her mind so powerfully that the familiar shelter might have been a place she'd
never seen before.

 
          
 
Still Water hugged her close. "I'm here.
I'll always be here for you."

 
          
 
She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on
his arm. "It's like being born into a new world. Nothing is the same. I
don't know what to do. The One pulls at me." She shook her head. "I
know what Singing Stones meant when he said it's like being a moth around a
fire."

 
          
 
"We'll manage. You and I." He
paused. "We're stronger together than we would be apart. Maybe that's part
of the puzzle."

 
          
 
She rolled her lip over her teeth. Escape
would be so easy. Her very strength could carry her past First Man and into the
One. He'd as much as said that. She could be free to experience it all, to
Dance the Spiral. And the Dream of First Man will die. The harmony that his Dream
infused in the world will cease.

 
          
 
She rolled over and stared into Still Water's
gentle eyes. "Nothing has ever been so wonderful. You can see the soul of
the world. I saw your soul . . . yellow and red, glowing. You're a good man,
Still Water."

 
          
 
He smiled at her, reaching out to finger her
hair. "And you're a good woman, White Ash. I couldn't have done what you
did. Like Singing Stones, I would have been at it for years."

           
 
She pressed his hand against her cheek,
seeking to draw strength from him. "I feel as though I'm on the edge of a
knife-sharp ridge I have to walk, an abyss on either side. The problem is, I
want so badly to fall."

 
          
 
"It's still new for you. It'll go away.
The more you Dream ..."

 
          
 
She placed her fingers against his lips.
"No. You don't understand. It's like ..." She shook her head.
"Words are illusion. They can't explain it. But the more you Dream the
One, the more powerful it becomes. It's as though its beauty builds in your
soul, growing and growing until you and the One merge—you can't bear to leave
it, because to leave is like tearing your soul apart. How can I experience such
bliss and willingly come back to this world and all its pain? This time, First
Man used my deepest fears to convince me to let go. But next time? Or the time
after?" She shivered. "Wolf Dreamer doesn't know what he asks."

 
          
 
"He has faith in your strength. I have
faith in your strength."

 
          
 
She pressed against him. "I wish I shared
your faith. One mistake and I'll be pulled in, unwilling to resist, unable
to." She inhaled haltingly. "Oh, Singing Stones, how did you do it
for so long?"

 
          
 
"Maybe he didn't have me."

 
          
 
She ran her hand along the side of his face,
tracing the curve of his ear. "You're part of my strength, that's true. I
never would have found the way without you. You chanted for me and encouraged
me when I would have given up." She buried her face in his chest. "I
didn't know I could love a man this much."

 
          
 
She listened to his heart, feeling his
withered arm against her breasts.

 
          
 
"Love," Still Water whispered.
"Another puzzle. What is it? Why does it work the way it does?"

 
          
 
She shrugged, seeking to cling more tightly to
him. "That's not my worry for the moment. It's how to control the Dream,
how to stay halfway between the One and the world."

 
          
 
She held his bad arm against herself, running
her hand down to his curled fingers. And he'd said that no woman would want a
man with an arm like his. Now she cherished it.. His useless arm was like Still
Water: a deception—a deception all the way from his toes to his homely face.
What no woman would accept ended at his skin. If only others could see the
colors of his magnificent soul.

 
          
 
White Ash watched the firelight flicker on the
irregular walls. She'd found the way to cross the boundary and taste the
forbidden honey. But what if she couldn't stop? What if she couldn't keep
herself from glutting on the wonder and the harmony of the other side? What
would happen to Still Water?

 
          
 
"I feel your worry," he told her.

 
          
 
Her breasts ached where they pressed against
him. Idly, she touched them, wondering how she'd hurt them. "Things are
just getting worse."

 
          
 
"You found the way to Dream."

 
          
 
"That's not what I mean." His
heartbeat soothed her. "What happens when we leave here? You forget, we
must deal with the Sun People. Anyone who isn't part of the clan is an enemy.
How do we tell them we're sent by Power? And who'd believe it anyway? Still
Water, they'll kill you on sight—but me, they'll take me. A woman is always
useful to them."

 
          
 
Her eyes traced the painted patterns of the
Spiral. Why hadn't she ever seen the truth of the Spiral before? The Spiral was
the world—the Creation. In the distance, thunder rolled over the
Wind
Basin
.

 
          
 
"We'll find a way. Power will help
us," Still Water whispered.

 
          
 
Her stomach twisted. "We only get one
chance. How will we do it? Sneak into their camp at night? With all the dogs on
guard? Besides, they're in unfamiliar territory. Lookouts will be posted
everywhere, watching the flats, scouring the country. They leave nothing to
chance." She laughed dryly. "Flying Squirrel, you were right. The Sun
People have warred until they're so strong nothing can stand against
them."

 
          
 
"I'll think up a way. It's another
puzzle."

           
 
His confidence barely assured her. "And
then, when we're among them, we have to find a way to stay alive. If we're
unlucky and walk into Brave Man's camp, do you think he'll give me a chance to
Dream?" She grunted disgust. "Hardly! He'll have his seed planted in
me before he can force me to the ground."

 
          
 
"We'll find the right camp."

 
          
 
"Let's say we do. And if I have a chance
to Dream, what if I get lost in the One? What if I can't resist the draw? If I
don't come back, they'll kill you, Still Water. You can't even speak their
language."

 
          
 
"As least they'll be quick about it. I'll
be right behind you that way. Just keep sight of my soul. As I understand, it
will be the yellow and red one."

 
          
 
"Don't joke." But she felt
comforted.

 
          
 
"You'll come back." He rubbed his
cheek on the top of her head. "I love you too much to . . ."He fell
silent.

 
          
 
She shifted to look up at him. He'd become
lost in his thoughts. "What were you saying?"

 
          
 
He laughed triumphantly. "Power will
never cease to amaze me."

 
          
 
"Do you want to stop looking smug and
tell me?"

 
          
 
His homely face glowed. "Love, of
course."

 
          
 
"What?"

 
          
 
He continued to stare at some infinite point
beyond the walls of the rock shelter until she jabbed him in the ribs to get
his attention. '' What ? '
'

 
          
 
He cocked his head. "It's all so clear.
'Love the Dreamer.' That's what Warm Fire told me just before he died. That's
the answer."

 
          
 
"Still Water, I've been worrying about
our survival, about everything we have to do. All I see is quicksand in every
direction. Why don't you tell me . . . What are you doing?"

 
          
 
He rolled on top of her, staring down into her
eyes with a happy smile on his face. "I'm going to love you."

 
          
 
She looked at him as though he'd gone crazy.
"Now? Not now, Still Water. Not after—"

 
          
 
"Especially now."

 
          
 
"Still Water, I don't want to right now.
I have to think. Too much is happening. Too many things ..." She shook her
head. "My thoughts keep slipping away, drifting back to..

 
          
 
He nibbled at her ear and whispered,
"Trust me. Concentrate. Do you love me? Really?"

 
          
 
He asked with such seriousness that she nodded
instantly, aware of his body responding to hers.

 
          
 
He cupped her breast, massaging it gently.
"Then clear your mind. Use the same path—only change it. Share yourself
with me. It's the answer, don't you see? The reason Dreamers always shun
people. It's why they run away from those they love."

 
          
 
She gasped. "Because it interferes with
the Dreaming!"

 
          
 
He nodded wisely. "Now, let's see if we
can't make that narrow ledge you balance on just a little wider. Love me with
all your body, White Ash. Love me with all of you."

 
          
 
She drew him close and whispered, "All of
me, and then some, Still Water."

 
          
 
The fire's fading embers cast a dull red light
on the rocks overhead. White Ash lay on her back with Still Water's head
cradled on the swell of her breasts. His even breathing filled her with an
uneasy contentment.

 
          
 
This night, it had worked. A tottering balance
had been restored. But how long could she maintain it? How long could Still
Water's gentle soul keep her from following the lure of the One?

 
          
 
Over and over she listed the uncertainties
that lay ahead, and then she glanced at Still Water's pack, feeling the Power
of the Wolf Bundle. It tugged at her with ghostly fingers. She shied away,
seeing again Singing Stones' face on that last night.

 
          
 
If I can't keep denying you, Bundle— illness
swept her— Brave Man wins.

 
          
 
 

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