People of the Wolf (54 page)

"You're
killing
us!" One Who Cries bellowed.

He grappled with the hunter, rolling over and over. One

Who Cries grabbed up a hand-sized rock, swinging it, smashing it into Raven Hunter's ribs.

Again and again, the atlatl battered him on the head and across the face. Desperate, One Who Cries bent close to Raven Hunter's kicking legs and, with nothing better to do, sank his stubby worn teeth into the man's thigh. Raven Hunter roared.

He heard the blow that jarred his head; it sounded hollow, a sickly thump. Lights flashed behind One Who Cries' eyes and the world shivered and slipped under his loose fingers as he fell into gray.

Singing Wolf pulled One Who Cries' bloody head to his lap, calling softly, "Cousin?".

The People crowded around, staring. Singing Wolf swallowed hard. He sat before Heron's shelter, Raven Hunter standing haughtily before him, back straight, arms crossed, glaring around like a cornered eagle. Four Teeth rocked back and forth, sucking his gums, disbelief in his rheumy eyes. Puffs of clouds rolled down from the north, promising rain. The mountains—half-masked by the geyser steam—looked on, bored spectators.

The blood leaking out of One Who Cries' head had coated Singing Wolf's fingers—sticky, matting his hands.

"He'll live. Hardheaded that one." Four Teeth shook his head. The People stared, fleeting whispers of horror scurrying from lip to lip in the manner of running lemmings on the tundra.

The breeze whipped Wolf Dreamer's hair wildly about his head as he ducked beneath the door flap of an unknown lodge; the crowd parted, leaving a wide swath for him.

"Twisted Root is dead," Wolf Dreamer told them in a lilting voice. "I watched the boy's soul slip from the body.

A yellow-red soul, the wound left it blue . . . and green. Cold, you understand? Tonight I'll sing Twisted Root to the sky. The Star People will accept him."

"Now what?" Raven Hunter lifted his chin, arrogant eyes seeking among the crowd, locking with the young men's.

Wolf Dreamer—lost in the layers of his soul—said slowly, "You killed one of the People, brother. A six-year-old boy. You broke the peace. The light is draining from your soul. You're losing yourself to the Power."

"He killed one of the People," Singing Wolf reminded. "The penalty is—"

"He's the best warrior we have!" Eagle Cries protested, elbowing in from the crowd. "He's shown honor in the fight against the Others."

Singing Wolf was on his feet, glaring into Eagle Cries' haughty black eyes. "He would have killed the Dreamer!"

"Runs In Light killed Crow Caller!" Raven Hunter's lip went up. "Witchery! That's how. He witched him!"

"Liar!" Singing Wolf gritted his teeth, fists clenched. In his breast, anger burned. "One more word, and I'll—"

"Wait." Wolf Dreamer placed a cool hand on Singing Wolf's shoulder, pulling him back. "I see your soul, old friend. You'd hate yourself if you followed your anger at Renewal."

Singing Wolf fought with his rage—barely winning despite the Dreamer's words.

"He's lied, murdered, raped. Why do I expect more from a coward who'd betray his people?" Singing Wolf looked down at the blood on his hands.

At the hushed explosion of breath from the People, Raven Hunter tensed, trying to take a step forward, restrained by Four Teeth, who stood behind him.

"You'll regret that," Raven Hunter promised.

"How have we come to this?" Four Teeth cried passionately.

"Witchery," Raven Hunter insisted. "I'll not see the People destroyed by my brother. When he killed Crow Caller—my friend—through dark Dreaming, I grabbed up my darts and—"

"Liar twice," a frail voice called.

They Turned to see One Who Cries weakly prop himself on his elbows. Blood streaked his tanned cheeks in a web.

"What do you know, One Who Cries? Perhaps it's as Raven Hunter says." Four Teeth turned, uneasy eyes on Wolf Dreamer.

One Who Cries blinked, weaving before lying back down. He stuttered, "I—I . . ." in confusion, as if he'd lost his thoughts.

"It's as I say," Raven Hunter growled. "Dark Dreaming has no place among the People. My brother is a witch! He had all the People enchanted by his act. Fooled by his words and the way he stopped Crow Caller's heart. I would have freed them. I took the first opportunity, that's all."

"A man does things in passion," Buffalo Back agreed. ' 'But the dart struck little Twisted Root. There must be punish—"

"It was an accident!" Raven Hunter protested. "What's wrong with us? Here, before us, is a witch! When I saw him perverting the People, I grabbed up my darts."

"Liar," One Who Cries whispered from where he lay., "You stole
my
darts. Then you went around to shoot from the side of the ridge where you had a clear shot.-
My darts!
So no one would know who did it. My tent is across the fire, Raven Hunter. You planned it."

"Your darts?" Raven Hunter laughed. "Head wounds do that. Cause—"

"Who has the darts?" Singing Wolf cried out, looking around, arms spread. "Where is the dart that struck the boy?"

Twisted Root's father—tears streaking his face—came forward, a short length of bloody wood in his hands. "Wolf Dreamer pulled it from where it stuck out of my son's back. This is not one of the People's darts. It's too short."

Singing Wolf took the gruesome weapon, holding it up, displaying the broken point. ' 'This belongs to One Who Cries. Look where the boy was darted. You'll find the detachable shaft with the fletching. Only One Who Cries makes a dart like this."

A woman cried as she pounced on the shaft, Twisted Root's blood marking the spot.

Singing Wolf turned to Raven Hunter, accusation in his hot

glare. "The penalty for breaking the peace—killing one of the People—is death."

Four Teeth closed his eyes, a look of misery on his face. He stiffened slowly.

Wolf Dreamer stepped to look into his brother's eyes and murmured, "I asked you not to try and stop me. I see loops and coils in the future—but not the whole length of the path you will travel. Go! Alone! Find your destiny."

Raven Hunter growled. "You're-making me an outcast? Condemning me?"

Singing Wolf turned sharply. "He deserves dea—"

"Go! Even as we speak, the web is spinning out, brother. Seek your heritage, and return. So you can"—his voice faltered as he took a deep breath—"can force our final meeting. Opposites crossed. Final resolution."

"Your meaning is hidden, like a caribou fawn in spring." Raven Hunter's black eyes danced angrily.

"You must lose yourself to see, brother. Or remain in darkness. What do you choose?"

Raven Hunter turned, glaring out at the gathered crowd: "I call my brother a witch! I denounce him here, before you all. I, Raven Hunter, will follow no witch into the darkness! I, I alone, will stand before the Others and show you all what honor is!"

He searched their eyes, pinning each of his uneasy warriors in turn with his hot glare. "Who will come with me?"

No one spoke, no one moved.

After several heartbeats, Four Teeth said, "No one goes with you, Raven Hunter. I say you are outcast."

"But he
murdered!"
Singing Wolf exploded. "The penalty for murdering—"

"No. Raven Hunter will not die for killing Twisted Root." Wolf Dreamer shook his head. "More, he is not outcast."

Four Teeth spun on an ancient heel, face livid with rage. "You would
dare
argue with an elder who ..." He stopped, seeing the Dream in the youth's eyes. Swallowing, he dropped his gaze, shoulders sagging. "No, Raven Hunter is not outcast."

"Raven Hunter must face the future alone.'.'

"Cowards!" Raven Hunter exploded. "The Others will

crush us to dust! Salvation is out there! Warring with the Others!
There
is my honor, and I'll go take it!"

Breaking free of the hands that held him back, Raven Hunter stalked to his tent, a path clearing for him among the crowded ranks of the People. In silence, they watched as he picked up his weapons, robes, and pouch before running nimbly up the path. At the top, he stopped, turned back, an angry figure against a cloud-gray sky. He gestured once, futilely, and disappeared.

Singing Wolf sighed, looking back in time to see Wolf Dreamer turn, his face ghastly pale.

"Help me," he called softly.

Singing Wolf ran to grab his arm and lead him stumbling back to Heron's shelter.

"The end is coming," Wolf Dreamer murmured. "See the spinning of the web? It spins around the darkness. It will. . . will . . ."He broke into uncontrollable shivering.

A horrid fear was born in Singing Wolf's heart.

A low fire burned in the bottom of the pit.
Why must it fall to me? I'm not the one for this. Such leadership belongs to the elders. Why did Singing Wolf call me here?
Dancing Fox pulled her arctic fox hood over her head to block the icy breeze penetrating the shelter.

Singing Wolf peered into the fire, a frown lining his forehead. Four Teeth looked sick to the very root of his soul. Rain pattered on the hide roof overhead. The air itself hung heavy, damp, musty with the odors of the camp and the geyser. In the chill of the night, the fire did little to warm the small shelter.

"I think we should order everyone to go through the hole in the ice," Singing Wolf insisted to end the long silence.

"We really don't have much choice," Dancing Fox said as she stared into the black rain falling beyond the doorway. "The Others know about the route south. Moon Water has told them everything by now."

"Maybe they'll just let us go," Singing Wolf said in a monotone. Once more, he rubbed thumbs into his bloodshot eyes.

Four Teeth sat in the rear of the shelter, listening, eyes focused somewhere in the glowing coals as he rocked back

and forth, lips moving silently. They were all awed, tired, drained clear to their souls.

Singing Wolf kept glancing uneasily toward Heron's shelter, where Wolf Dreamer lay delirious. Crow Caller's body had been carried to the high spot above the valley. Buffalo Back and a group of women sang there, urging the old shaman's soul to the Blessed Star People as Wolf Dreamer ordered. The People were in shock; silence—made heavier by the storm—hung over the camp.

Dancing Fox had walked among them, heart tearing at the confusion in their eyes, the uncertainty unraveling their souls. Had these truly been the laughing people of her youth? Now despair clung like a clammy film. Unable to bear any more, she'd gone to Singing Wolf, and he'd listened to what she said and brought her here to Four Teeth in hopes they might bring sanity out of chaos.

Singing Wolf shook his head. "Too much blood's been spilled. Raven Hunter's warriors tortured and mutilated the dead. To the Others' way of thinking, those souls will never go to the place of the dead under the sea. The families of those mutilated warriors won't rest until the souls have been appeased. It's honor."

"That true?" Four Teeth asked.

"Blueberry and I had long talks about it."

"The best bet is to get away. Go through the hole." Dancing Fox crossed her legs, wincing as she bent her ankle, and propped her chin on her palms.

Singing Wolf chewed absently on a leather thong as he spoke. "The People will go through the ice. There's no doubt of that now. Only the water's blocking the way. We have to hold on until the Long Dark. In the meantime, the Others aren't this far south . . . yet."

Dancing Fox worked her aching ankle as she looked at Blueberry. "Do you think we have that long?"

"Who knows? It'll depend on their clan ceremonies. It will depend on Ice Fire, too."

"Ice Fire?" Dancing Fox steepled fingers, frowning. "Their Dreamer?"

"Their equivalent to a Dreamer, I think. No one knows much about him. He's ..." Singing Wolf looked perplexed. "Well, I hear he's a strange man."

"Anyone with Spirit Power is strange," Four Teeth muttered,

"We'll need to protect ourselves in the meantime." Dancing Fox met Singing Wolf's eyes across the fire. "We know the land down here better than they do. We can control some of the major trails through the hill country to the north. Maybe we can hold them back long enough to get our people through the ice."

Silence pressed on them, Four Teeth shifted. His stomach growled loudly in the quiet shelter.