A crisp breeze skimmed the chopping whitecapped waves that blew up the river, tousling the fringes on Ice Fire’s sleeves. From his high rocky perch, he gazed out over the Big River to the jumbled shore on the other side. The hazy blue green of vegetation carpeted the rolling hills. Far to the east, he could see the rising white of the Big Ice. Behind him, the snow-mantled gray summits of the mighty mountains raked the clouds. The heart of the Long Light had come. Life filled the land.
Flocks of geese soared through the azure skies, their chevrons stretching endlessly to the south. Birds wheeled over the water, preying on the abundance of fish. A deep longing filled his chest as he followed their flight.
“You’ve been watching the snow geese for four days now,” Red Flint remarked, coming up behind him.
Ice Fire didn’t bother to turn. “Birds are wonderful things. Imagine what they see up there.” He let his eyes dwell on the far southern horizon. The call lurked, subtle, urging.
“They’re also noisy. They screech and honk and they’re stupid. You can lay out grass-stuffed snow-goose hides and they’ll fly right into your net.”
Ice Fire cocked his head to study his friend through a slitted eye. “I hope you came up here to ruin my contemplations for a reason.”
“You haven’t eaten in two days. Moon Water is getting nervous about your health.”
“Your daughter is always nervous about my health. You’d think I was twenty years younger and she had an eye for raising my children.”
Red Flint spread his hands, a neutral expression on his face. “She doesn’t need you twenty years younger.”
Ice Fire turned back to watch the flying strands of geese where they winged south. “I had a wife once … and a vision after that. That’s enough women for one lifetime.”
Red Flint shifted, boots grating on the gravel. “I know.” It came subdued. “I wasn’t serious about Moon Water. But
she would, you know. She’s worshiped you since she was little and you threw her up in the air and told her stories.”
He laughed at the memory of the squealing round-faced girl, her hair flying out as he tossed her high and caught her. “She should be looking for a young man.”
“Enough of Moon Water. You’ve been preoccupied.” Red Flint settled himself on the rock just below Ice Fire’s point of vantage. “What is it, Most Respected Elder? What do you see out here? What should we know?”
Ice Fire laced his fingers around his knee, leaning back, eyes still on the southern distance. Even from here, he could see the hills rising. The big gravel-braided river shone a deep blue, white-tipped rapids foaming over submerged rocks. For days he’d prayed to the Great Mystery, begging for a vision, an explanation of the tension mounting to a violent crescendo inside his breast—but no answer had come.
“I can’t tell yet. Only,” he whispered, placing a weather-hardened hand to his heart, “I feel it here. The long wait is almost over, old friend.”
“Is that good?”
Ice Fire smiled grimly. “No, but it’s not bad either.”
“Then what?”
“The Great Mystery’s path is opening before us. Good or bad, who knows? What matters is that things will be different, and we’ll be changed forever.”
Red Flint listened, nodding slightly, a skeptical frown on his deeply lined face. “When you talk this way, I hear your words … but I’m never really sure I know what you mean.”
Ice Fire smiled warmly. As he laid a gentle hand on his friend’s arm, he said, “Neither am I, usually. And it wouldn’t matter. We couldn’t change anything even if we did.”