People of the Fire (73 page)

Read People of the Fire Online

Authors: W. Michael Gear

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

BOOK: People of the Fire
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 
          
 
"You said something about the Spirals. So
did White Calf. What did that mean?"

 
          
 
Two Smokes almost cried out, holding the knee
Blood Bear had kicked, as he resettled himself against the rising wall of rock.
"Look around you. The world's changing. We're in the last refuge from the
drought. Even here it's come. This is an age of Fire. You wonder why Heavy
Beaver could gain such Power? His people were starving. The buffalo have been dying
off, their numbers ever fewer. When a man arises who has answers, the people
will listen. And worse, they'll believe. By controlling the mountains, Heavy
Beaver will have a supply of meat while his hunters continue to kill the last
of the plains herds."

 
          
 
“And what can we do about that?" a woman
asked.

 
          
 
“Nothing. Nothing but fight them off."

 
          
 
“Then there's no hope?" Tanager asked,
propping her chin on a callused palm. An eerie sense of premonition haunted
her. The remains of the headache slowly ebbed. Yes, she'd felt Power, awesome
Power unlike anything she'd Danced during a fight. The aftereffects left a
shiver in her soul.

 
          
 
“I didn't say that," Two Smokes continued
wearily. "The rest is up to him. Up to the Fire Dancer . . . and the Wolf
Bundle, if it isn't too late."

 
          
 
"Explain."

 
          
 
Two Smokes looked up through bloodshot eyes.
"He, Fire Dancer, has to Dance the Spirals back. He has to go and face
Heavy Beaver and Dance a new way for the Short Buffalo People."

 
          
 
She laughed. "And he's going to just walk
in and do it!"

 
          
 
Two Smokes lifted helpless hands. "I
don't know how he'll do it. I don't even know if he can. He's the
Dreamer."

 
          
 
“So? Isn't that enough?"

 
          
 
His lips trembled. "Not even a Dreamer is
proof against a dart in the back—and he's got to walk right into the middle of
their camp to Dance and Dream. And he's going to take the Wolf Bundle with
him."

 
          
 
Tanager could only stare, feeling her heart
beat
soddenly
in her chest. The piercing stare of the
wolf affected her soul like coals on bare skin.

 
          
 
White Calf's dying request echoed in her mind.

 
          
 
The Dreams wove and meshed, tightening until
they became a knot. One by one the strands broke, parting again to weave into a
new image. Hungry Bull laughed. Sage Root scolded him for touching one of his
father's hunting darts.

           
 
Chokecherry slapped her leg and cried out at
some imagined outrage. Heavy Beaver smiled, the flat features of his face going
ever wider, dominated by that curl of lips that mocked and scorned and dared.
The image split, tearing down the middle while Three Toes manufactured a stone
point, his baton clicking rhythmically as it drove thin flakes from the stone.
Throws Rocks grabbed his arm. Terror throttled his outcry as a heavy stone
hammer rose over his skull.

 
          
 
Fire Dancer tried to pull away, struggling
with the Dream that possessed him. Again he felt the Wolf Bundle ripped away
from Two Smokes' grasp, pinched cruelly in strong fingers and thrown, the
sensation sickening as the Bundle sailed through the air. Earth and water
bruised when it landed in the grass.

 
          
 
Stunned, he lay aware of the soil, of the soul
of the grass as it throbbed around him. The Spiral bent and quivered. Anger!
Driving passionate anger filled the world, tremors spreading like ripples on a
broad pond.

 
          
 
Elk Charm's voice called, urging him to come
back. His daughters squalled from terror and loneliness. White Calf whispered
from beyond the haze surrounding him. Love twisted within him like a bull snake
choking on prickly pear, each spine burning with a powerful intensity. He
whimpered, knowing he loved too much. "Come back to me . . . back to me.
..." Elk Charm's call beckoned, sweet as honey from a hidden comb.

 
          
 
"
Fadder
?"
his daughter asked plaintively.

 
          
 
He cried out at the longing in her voice,
hearing her need. "Let me go," he whimpered to the Dream. "She
needs me."

 
          
 
Fire leapt up, a forest aflame burned around
him, trees splitting in the heat. Branches torched, yellow-orange spires of
flame tormenting the sky as reddish smoke rose in towering columns to threaten
the clouds.

 
          
 
"An age of Fire."

 
          
 
''He's too young. His mind has no discipline.
Feel the confusion ? He can’t free himself to reach the One. How do you expect
him to Dance with Fire?"

 
          
 
"There's no more time. We have no other
choice."

 
          
 
"Kill Heavy Beaver.''

 
          
 
''His way won't die with him. It must be
changed. People change only through the Power of the Dream. Ideas are that way.
They can only be replaced—never killed entirely. We deal with the Power of the
human soul.''

 
          
 
"If he's strong enough."

 
          
 
“Yes, if he's strong enough. We've given him
all we can.''

 
          
 
Fire Dancer suffered the feeling of falling
the way he had when he almost died in the snow; haze settled over him,
vanquishing the burning forest, dropping around him like fog on a frosty winter
morning.

 
          
 
He waited, seeing the cloud around him whirl
and twist, images forming from the billowing mass. Struggling, he sought to
identify them, making a face from one, a tree from another. Finally, he managed
to conjure Elk Charm's warm features from the drifting chaos. Crying out, he
reached for her, only to have the changing mist reorganize, his youngest
daughter's baby face appearing in the mist.

 
          
 
"Illusion."

 
          
 
And the baby's face disappeared.

 
          
 
White Calf beamed at him from the patterns of
cloud. He called as she shifted into the gray haze.

 
          
 
"Illusion," the voice repeated.
"As all life is illusion. As earth, stone, water, and air are hollow, a
thin web of illusion which defies their real natures. ''

 
          
 
"Elk Charm?" he cried out, soul
wrung like a twisted piece of damp leather.

 
          
 
"You must break the pattern of illusion."

 
          
 
One after another images formed, his mind
jumping to identify them before they shifted in the madness of the mist. He
watched, feverishly attempting to see.

 
          
 
"Too young, " the second voice
affirmed.

 
          
 
Fire Dancer closed his eyes, curling into a
fetal ball, ignoring it all, lost, unable to comprehend. He could feel the
mist, swirling, changing. All of it mist. Formless, featureless, the reality
remained.

 
          
 
"There."

 
          
 
His body came to rest. As he opened his eyes,
he saw the Wolf Bundle lying before him.

 
          
 
“It must be restored, smoked. Blessed, and
made
wki
it told him. "Cleanse me. Renew me. Two
Smokes ha skill to make a new cover. The contents must be purified and made
whole. You have little time. Restore the Power. Breathe your soul into mine.
Wolf has been with you for a long time. His life is my life. You are First Man.
When the time comes, he gives himself to you. You are the Fire Dancer.

 
          
 
"Listen to me. You must take Two Smokes
and renew the Wolf Bundle. This is what you must do. . . . "

 
          
 
Scene by scene, a Dream unfolded. Fire Dancer
cried out in horror, feeling what must happen, living it in the experience of
the Dream.

 
          
 
"The damage must be undone . . . in the
manner we have shown you. Do not fail. Believe in yourself ... in your Power.”

 
          
 
Fire Dancer's heart continued to throb. Only
the curling mist remained, trying to form images in his mind. Bit by bit, it
hovered closer, bathing his flesh as he dropped into a deep sleep, illusion
swirling endlessly about him. In the background, he could hear Elk Charm
whispering her love, hear his daughters crying out in fear. Somewhere,
somewhere just beyond . . .

 
          
 
Two Smokes enjoyed the sunlight, feeling it
sink into his flesh, warming his blood. No one had slept much the night before,
only Fire Dancer, the wolf watching protectively, lifting a threatening lip if
anyone stepped too close.

 
          
 
This morning, the light seemed clearer, no
haze over the mountains. Each crag in the gray peaks could be made out in
detail, so clear that if he reached, he might touch them. The endless vault of
blue remained unmarred by a single cloud.

 
          
 
Two Smokes looked across, seeing Fire Dancer
sleeping soundly. How curious. What Power had coursed through him that he might
speak for the Wolf Bundle? What Power had they all experienced that laid
haughty Blood Bear low? At the memory, Two Smokes felt his soul chill. That
moment would live with him forever.

 
          
 
Tanager climbed up the rock from where she'd
been talking with her warriors. Several of the young men had turned, trotting
off across the meadow while sunlight glinted and leapt from their polished
weapons.

 
          
 
The young woman seated herself beside Two
Smokes, looking back at the sleeping figure of Fire Dancer. “We'll have to put
a sunshade over him soon. Will the wolf let us?"

 
          
 
"I suppose. To be a black wolf in the sun
must not be much fun."

 
          
 
Tanager called, ordering her people to see to
it. None appeared to appreciate the job, but the wolf didn't react as they
fixed a hide shelter.

 
          
 
"When will you go do this Dreaming?"
She gave him a curious look.

 
          
 
Two Smokes shrugged. "He's the Dreamer,
ask him. Any change in Blood Bear?"

 
          
 
"No." She leaned back on locked
elbows, stretching her long legs out before her. "And I wouldn't have
expected he'd be so quiet. I thought he'd be hollering for this and that,
driving people crazy. Something seems to have settled into him. He simply lies
there with a terrible expression on his face, staring. Always just staring.
Everyone's frightened."

 
          
 
"With reason." Two Smokes reached
into his pouch, removing the pieces he'd been working on to sew into moccasins.
"Everything Fire Dancer said last night was true. Power's been
abused."

 
          
 
She studied him. "And do you think he can
do this thing? Dream these Spirals?"

Other books

Mountain Song by Ruby Laska
A Latent Dark by Martin Kee
Daughters of Castle Deverill by Santa Montefiore
The Boy Recession by Flynn Meaney
Morte by Robert Repino
To Love a Scoundrel by Sharon Ihle
HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER by LYNNE MARSHALL,
An Untamed Land by Lauraine Snelling