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.
“How’s Wolf Dreamer?” Dancing Fox asked with trepidation.
“Bad.” Singing Wolf’s uneasy eyes met hers. “He’s half in the Dream, half out. He can’t keep anything down. Give him water and he spits it up. He lies there, singing, mumbling. Every time I’m in there, the look in his eyes scares me to death.”
Silence stretched again as they stared soberly at nothing.
“We can’t have more raiding then,” Dancing Fox decided, forcing her mind away from Wolf Dreamer, stifling that longing to run to him and comfort him. “That only fuels anger among the Others.”
“That’s not how Raven Hunter trained his warriors,” Four Teeth reminded.
“Already they’re chafing at what happened to Raven Hunter.” Singing Wolf steepled his fingers. “They were off balance, shocked at the Renewal. Everything was so incredible, they didn’t know what to do. Now, they’ve had time to think. Some are wondering if it wouldn’t have been better to go with Raven Hunter.”
“But that’s how the Dreamer’s going to say it’s to be done,” Dancing Fox decided. “No more raiding.”
“He will?” Four Teeth started, looking up from the coals.
She nodded. “He will. And if he doesn’t—outside of the circle of us—who’ll know?”
They shifted, throwing uneasy glances her way. Four Teeth straightened, about to speak. He stopped, closing his mouth, looking away.
“That’s taking”—Singing Wolf winced—“a lot of …”
“Necessary precautions,” Dancing Fox insisted. “That is,
if Wolf Dreamer doesn’t come to his senses from the Dreaming and do it himself.”
“This could be dangerous,” Four Teeth whispered. “We all saw what happened to Crow Caller. We saw.”
The silence grew heavy again.
They won’t take the lead. It’s the obvious answer. We’ve got to use the Power of Wolf Dreamer’s name. If we don’t, the cohesion of the People will leak away and we’ll be broken again. Can’t they see? It’s now or never! Someone has to begin to undo what Raven Hunter created. The young men have to be stopped—now!
Dancing Fox steeled herself, choosing her words carefully. “I won’t usurp Wolf Dreamer’s responsibilities. I’m not interested in leading the People. But we don’t know how long Wolf Dreamer’s going to be locked in the Dream. We don’t know if he’ll ever come out of it. In the meantime, someone has to see to the People. This time it can’t be Raven Hunter making his own way. It can’t be the elders alone who do it. We all have to agree. Otherwise the People end up split apart like old caribou bone left in the sun. We can’t have everyone following separate paths. We’re not strong enough to do that with the Others closing—and nowhere to run. Are we agreed?” Dancing Fox looked ardently from face to face.
One by one, they nodded.
“And how do you see us doing this, woman?” Four Teeth asked, a labored quality to his voice. His old shoulders slumped in resignation.
Dancing Fox frowned. “Singing Wolf and Eagle Cries would be the best choices to direct the warriors. Together, they can lead the young men in a new direction.”
“But Eagle Cries worships Raven Hunter! He’s—”
“He’s respected by all the young men. We must join both sides of the People now or lose some forever.”
“Agreed.” Singing Wolf sighed. “I’ll talk to him. Oh, for the days when I could be a surly callous complainer. I owe Broken Branch for this.”
“For the days when we were all young … with no cares,” Dancing Fox added softly. She turned to Four Teeth. “Grandfather, we need the elders to calm the People, remind them that food will be scarce until we’re through the ice. We all look up to you and Buffalo Back and the others. You’ve
got to reassure the People, inspire them. Remind them we are all one. Bolster their courage.”
Four Teeth bobbed his shriveled head. “We can do that. For once, I’m pleased to hear a young woman talk with so much sense. Sense—among the young—seems to have blown away with Wind Woman’s breath.”
“I’ll give some thought to preparing for the ice.” She began cataloging resources. “We’ll need to gather all the berries we can for winter food. We need to strip out the willows and dwarf birch. With game this scarce, there won’t be much fat rendered. For light in the hole, maybe we can get by with willow roots dried in the sun. They burn fast, and they’re heavy and awkward to carry and hard to keep lit. But they’ll be light.
“In the meantime, we’ll make a collection of all the fat we can find and store it someplace where the permafrost will keep it and the mice can’t get it. What there is should be saved for emergency food—or in case the willows burn out under the ice. The children can organize drives, see if we can’t trap mice and ground squirrels and dry them. All these young boys and girls can drive the shallows of the Big River for char and grayling.”
“Starvation food,” Singing Wolf said sourly. At Dancing Fox’s hard look, he clarified. “But I gave up being proud a long time ago.”
Four Teeth chuckled under his breath. “You really think the Others would walk into that hole?” he asked as he shook his head. “It just … well, you’d have to be crazy to walk into something like that. Crazy! People shouldn’t be underground. You know, what if someone should die in there? How would their souls find the way to the Blessed Star People? They’d be stuck in the dark forever.”
Dancing Fox shivered. “You don’t know how frightening it really is. Wait until you walk through there.”
Four Teeth coughed and spat into the fire, lips pursed sourly. “I’ve been a lot of places, seen a lot of things. I can’t say I look forward to walking under the ice. This new land had better be all you say.”
“It is,” Singing Wolf asserted. “And who knows what we’ll find in that valley running to the south?”
“Maybe a land without starvation?” the old man asked, a glow coming to his eyes.
“A place where the game is everywhere and we can raise our children without hunger,” Singing Wolf whispered. “I remember Heron talking about a new plant that the People would eat. I can see myself growing fat in a new land. Yes, I can see that with little effort.”
“Another Dreamer?” Four Teeth asked cynically, a haze of reserve in his eyes.
“No, I’m not brave enough,” Singing Wolf added earnestly. “But we’ve got to do something. Look around. I see our people falling apart like an old parka when the gut thread rots. I don’t like that hole in the ice. I can’t see how Wolf Dreamer could have ever walked into it.”
“Crazy! People with Spirit Power are all crazy,” Four Teeth pronounced, pounding a fist against his knee.
“But he did. And found the path Wolf promised. Everything he said to us at Mammoth Camp has come true.”
The rain increased, a gust of wind slapping the soaked hide overhead. Four Teeth reached behind him to drop another couple of twigs into the fire. The cheery crackle and additional light vanquished a bit of the storm.
Dancing Fox pulled her wealth of hair back where the breeze teased it. “We’ve got three choices. Stay and starve, push north and fight the Others, or go through the ice. I follow Wolf Dreamer.”
“We all do,” Singing Wolf agreed. “We have to if we want to survive.”
She searched their eyes. “On the other side, it won’t be easy either. All the People coming to Heron’s valley have hunted out the game. Those hunters we don’t need to scout the Others will have to search out every animal left up here to give us enough food for the trip.”
“Not the old bull mammoth!” Singing Wolf insisted sternly. “He’s Heron’s. Dead or not, we don’t need her wrath.”
Dancing Fox scowled. “We don’t have a meat supply to go into the Long Dark.”
“Heron protected that old bull. I say save the old bull. More than that, Wolf Dreamer would save the old bull.”
She threw her hands up. “All right! The old bull’s saved!
He’s life for the People, but I’ll concede—which means that ‘starvation food’ is going to be very important. No time must be lost. Maybe the game will be as plentiful on the other side as it was this year. Maybe not. We all know animals move. We won’t have as much to make do with. Like the horrible Long Dark, this could be a terrible year. Our clothes are worn, the insulating hair is falling out, the leather’s abraded to holes. It’ll be hard. One of the hardest things we’ve faced yet.”
“Our last chance,” Singing Wolf whispered. “Do you agree, Grandfather?”
Four Teeth nodded, a sigh rasping in his throat. “I’ve heard Dancing Fox. If it will save the People, I’ll do it. Let us hope the Others wait—and the game will favor us south of the ice, in this new land.”