People - People of the Wolf Part 29

"The sooner the better. Singing Wolf is worried."

"And I'm worried," One Who Cries agreed. "They'll strike back. According to Blueberry, they have to."

Green Water tilted her head, soft eyes on her husband. "I think she's seen a lot more of the Others than Raven Hunter. I listen to her talk and I think the men should heed what she says. If half of what she says is true--"

"We're in deep trouble," One Who Cries agreed, watching Blueberry take time to nurse her child. Green Water nudged him, humorous reproach in her eyes. "The child will grow up as one of us."

"Can you believe Raven Hunter wanted to kill it? You'd think he'd learn."

"He's crazy." Green Water lifted her chin, long s.h.i.+ning lengths of hair falling around her firm throat. A wistfulness lay in the corners of her broad mouth.

"I hope he's not as crazy as Dancing Fox says."

Fox sighed heavily, shaking her head. "He is."

Green Water studied One Who Cries thoughtfully. "Incidentally, I noticed that you told most of the band leaders how to find Heron's valley."

A few yards away, Singing Wolf had taken his baton, striking flakes off the sinew-clogged biface he was using to butcher the mammoth. The clack-snap carried to One Who Cries on the cold breeze, rea.s.suring, the familiar sound of meat making. Why didn't it soothe him?

He filled his lungs, blowing out into the cool air to watch his breath condense. Around him, the hills rose, crumpled shale outcrops on the ridges as the folded topography rose to the high mountains to the west.

The air cut cleanly through his lungs, bringing the scent of mammoth and trampled wormwood and sedge. To the north, a somber bank of clouds rolled down from the salt water--a nasty storm from the looks of it. "If the Others come this winter ... as many of them as Blueberry says, we've only got one way to go."

"And if there's no way out of Heron's valley?"

He gave her a c.o.c.keyed glance and chuckled. "Well, maybe Heron can Dream them away, huh?""People!" A faint cry came, borne on the wind.

Singing Wolf stood up, looking to the north, shading his eyes with a blood-caked hand. Jumping Hare let the hide slide loose, craning his neck back and forth to see.

"Looks like Three Falls," Singing Wolf called. "What's he doing here?

Thought he'd gone off with Sheep Whistle to hunt up north."

"I see Mouse," Jumping Hare called. "I'd know her walk. Broke her leg that time. When Strikes Lightning's dart didn't kill that buffalo along the salt water. There's more, too. Lots of the People behind them."

Green Water made a clucking sound. "I don't think this is good. Go see."

One Who Cries picked up his darts and trotted around the rock outcrop where he'd taunted the mammoth cow. The dogs were already barking, growling as they ran to meet the hounds with Sheep Whistle's people, snarling and fighting.

Three Falls walked in the lead of the group, a huddle of women behind him bent under flat-looking packs. .h.i.tched by tump lines. They paced wearily, followed by one or two more hunters to the rear. Then came others, more bundled figures topping the horizon, walking bent against the skyline. The ones in the rear didn't look well as they limped along.

No one noticed the sc.r.a.pping dogs as they growled and yipped, the packs tearing into each other.

One Who Cries pulled up, sensing the wrongness. "Three Falls!" he called. "Welcome. Come, we've killed mammoth. We can feast you in real style."

A ripple of relief seemed to run through the group. Mouse--hair cut short in mourning for Strikes Lightning-lifted her head, a bit more bounce in her walk. Her young infant peeked out from her hood, a tiny face beside hers. Behind her a little girl toddled. More came, some still straggling over the hilltop to the north.

"There goes our winter's supply of meat," he whispered to himself. '

Three Falls lifted grateful hands in the gesture of relief. "We'll enjoy your feast, One Who Cries, and offer thanks to the Blessed Star People for your shelter."

"I don't see much in the way of packs. The dogs aren't loaded. Isn't that Big Mouth back there?" The short, stocky man limped miserably. "Is he hurt?"

"Dart wound." Three Falls looked away nervously, lips pinched. "We had a wonderful hunt. Caught a herd of dall sheep in a little valley. Perfect.

We'd butchered most of the carca.s.ses, built caches so the permafrost would keep the meat. Thought we'd stay there all winter with the Others driven off and all."

A tendril of anxiety touched his stomach. "What happened?" "The Blessed Star People saved us, my friend. Just luck. One of the young men was running to tell Raven Hunter and Crow Caller that we'd made enough meat to feed many. He saw the Others first, ran back, and warned us. Let me tell you, they fight better now. Killed four of the hunters who went out to drive them off. There were so many of them, old friend. So many. Sofierce. We could no more drive them off than stop Wind Woman. But our position in the hills was good, so we didn't get slaughtered."

"How'd you find us?"

"Sheep Whistle told us which way you'd gone. We hoped you'd give us help." Three Falls shuffled his feet awkwardly, eyes to the ground.

One Who Cries looked out across the figures still straggling over the far hill. "Is Sheep Whistle here? He taught me the old stories."

"He's gone, my friend. Maybe later, tonight or tomorrow, we'll gather to sing his soul to the Blessed Star People."

One Who Cries flinched. "How did it happen?"

"The Others .. . Well, the dart caught him low, just above his manhood.

Bad wound, that. Gut juices got into him. He started to stink and swelled up. We carried him for as long as we could."

"And your camp?"

Three Falls slapped his darts meaningfully. "The Others moved into it.

Me, some of the rest of Sheep Whistle's band, we came to make sure the women will be safe. Then we're going after the Others to pay them back."

One Who Cries shook his head. "Last time you paid them back, they didn't stay paid. Give it up. Too many have died already." He lifted an arm toward the oncoming swell of people. "Look at the women with their hair all cut short. It's got to end someplace."

Three Falls smiled wistfully. "Feast me and my warriors tonight, One Who Cries. Feast us well. Then we'll avenge our lost relatives."

"Sounds like Raven Hunter talking through your mouth."

"He's a leader." Three Falls nodded admiringly. "Maybe."

Three Falls' brows lowered. "We need warriors. You'll come? You and Singing Wolf and Jumping Hare?" "No." He shook his head certainly.

"But we have to--"

"No."

"You don't care about the murders of people you loved."

"We care more about the living. Singing Wolf, Jumping Hare, and I have talked about it already. We were afraid this would happen. We're going south to follow the Wolf Dream. If you really want your women and children to be safe, come with us."

Three Falls hesitated, then shook his head. "We must go back. It's .. .

honor."

"Honor?"

Three Falls straightened, eyes brightening fiercely. "Warrior's honor."

He shook his darts in emphasis.A wrenching feeling of foreboding lashed at One Who Cries. He bowed his head and nodded slowly. His People grew more like the Others every day.

Chapter 35.

The People snaked along over the undulating hills, gazing across the dots of spa.r.s.e dwarf birch dotting the land. Snow already h.o.a.red the northern slopes. Stubborn leaves clung in auburn patches to the limbs.

Father Sun's path sank closer to the horizon every day; the brilliant yellow light of summer faded now to a dull straw color. The drainages they crossed were blanketed with frost-slick leaves that crackled beneath their feet.

Dancing Fox adjusted the tump line biting into her forehead and glared at Mouse's back. The woman grated on her nerves like weathered slate against flesh. Talon, who walked several paces ahead of Fox, turned and grinned as though reading her thoughts, then waved her forward. She trotted to catch up.

"Get away. Walk back there," Mouse ordered, pointing.

"I walk where I please," Dancing Fox challenged, seeing Talon stop, turning. The old woman's eyes gleamed darkly.

"Your soul is cursed. I don't want you around my baby. You walk behind.

Give us decent people some peace."

Dancing Fox moved like lightning, work-tough fingers clamping around Mouse's windpipe. As the woman croaked and struggled, Dancing Fox leaned close, peering into her eyes.

"The man who cursed me is a false Dreamer; he has no Power. That means his curse was meaningless." She tightened her grip, making Mouse gasp frantically. The woman futilely batted at her face. "Understand?"

She shoved Mouse backward, hard. The woman's stagger made the infant under her hood start to bawl shrilly.

Mouse rubbed her throat, staring wide-eyed at Dancing Fox. "You .. .

you're crazy," she coughed.

Dancing Fox smiled grimly. "Remember that. There's no telling what I might do if I'm crossed." Coolly, she turned on her heel and walked on, aware of Singing Wolf running back to see what the commotion was all about.

She had no more trouble with Mouse that night or any other. But she noticed that when any of the other women were near, they kept their eyes lowered. Respect? Or fear? Only Talon looked at her, winking in silent endors.e.m.e.nt. Dancing Fox walked straighter, weapons held proudly.

Wolf Dreamer floated in the hot spring, Heron's sweet chanting buoying him, enfolding him. The lapping of the waves caressed his naked flesh.

"Lose yourself in the song," Heron instructed. "Free yourself. Move with the sounds. Dream this world away. It doesn't exist. Nothing exists but the Dance."

"The Dance," he repeated.

He leaned back in the water until it stroked his ears. The sounds of the birds vanished, a soft hum of flowing water filling in. Faintly, he heard Heron take up the chant again, the song rhythmic and haunting, astring of nonsense words. Because they made no sense, he s.h.i.+fted his concentration to the wavering sounds, imagining himself dancing to the cadence.

He blinked, lost, the world out of focus. He sat in Heron's shelter. His senses whirled with familiar shapes and smells. The skulls glared sightlessly at him, observing his very soul. The effigies and the colorful shapes drawn on the walls seemed to pulse with a life of their own through the thin layer of soot. The acrid odor of the geyser clogged his nose.

"Not .. . not the pool?" He looked around, seeing Broken Branch where she huddled in the far corner muttering to herself, a bright spark in her eyes.

"Not the pool," Heron told him. "Look at your hand."

He stared, gasping. An angry red blister rose from the center of his palm, the flesh seared. As he looked, bright pain brought tears to his eyes. He cried out.

Heron kept hertaloned grip on his wrist, unperturbed. She rubbed grease mixed with herbs on the burn, binding his hand carefully. "I see the question in your eyes. What happened? I put a coal on your hand, Wolf Dreamer. You never knew when it burned you. You know what that means?"

Despite the pain he nodded. "I found my Dance."

"That you did." "But the coal burned me."

"Yes, you only s.h.i.+fted your mind. You didn't Dance with the fire."

"Then why'd you put the coal in my hand?" he asked a little resentfully, the pain increasing to a throb.

She grinned impudently. "I wanted to see where you were."

"Why couldn't you wait and ask me?"

"It's not the same."

He lifted a disbelieving brow. "Uh-huh."

"You're not far enough along yet."

He flexed his searing palm. "I can see that."

She hesitated, her jaw grinding softly in the crimson glow of the fire.

"You see, to truly Dance, you need to Dance with everything around you .. . not just yourself. Then you have to become the Dance to touch the One. Then stop the--"

"But I made another step."

"Yes," she agreed. "Another step, Wolf Dreamer. Another step, but I wonder, will we have time?" "What do you mean?"

She blinked, eyes on a distance only she could see. "Things are happening too fast. I wanted another couple of years. We may not even have all of this one." She patted him on the shoulder. "Next summer mayeven be too late."

"For what?"

She frowned, the lines in her ancient forehead deepening. "A terrible Dream rolled over me last night. I couldn't really see the images, they were fuzzy, but I felt the truth beneath them."

"What truth?"

"They're coming," she said hoa.r.s.ely, pinning his eyes. "They'll be here before we turn around." "The Others?" he guessed, swallowing hard. He'd meet his father.