Tsauz wrinkled his nose. The Cloud People blood had a moldy smell. He took a tiny sip, and his mouth puckered at the bitter taste.
“I’m trying to come to you, Thunderbird,” he whispered. “Please, hear me.”
He rumbled the word “come” deep in his throat, and listened.
Nothing happened.
Tsauz took a good drink, choked it down, and reached out to touch the ropes. They didn’t feel like serpents. They weren’t scaly. They felt like feathers tied to woven bark ropes.
He called again, struggling to make the deep-throated rumble Rides-the-Wind had taught him.
“Thunderbird? Are you listening? Am I saying that right?”
He was probably speaking in badly accented Thunderbird. But Spirit creatures understood things humans did not. He figured Thunderbird didn’t really care about accents, and hoped it was a person’s heart that mattered.
“I heard them, Thunderbird,” he whispered anxiously. “When Evening Star mentioned my father, the Raven People’s cheers sounded like growls. If they ever get their hands on him, they’ll tear him apart. I know they will.”
He exhaled and ran his fingers over the cup. It felt crude. Big chips had been knocked off the wooden lip. They scratched his mouth when he drank again.
“Please help me, Thunderbird.”
He tipped his face heavenward. The more Cloud People blood he drank, the more empty he felt—as though his bones were becoming as hollow as a bird’s.
He tried again to make the rumble that would call Thunderbird.
Wind Woman sneaked into the lodge and batted the ropes around. They swung against each other, and he heard a strange hissing. It had to be the feathers brushing each other. Didn’t it?
He rumbled again. And again.
The last four swallows of blood tasted especially awful. He set the empty cup on the hides.
The hissing came again, louder.
Rain.
It pattered the sand outside. The storm had moved in. Had Thunderbird come with it?
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on calling and calling … .
The scent of wet earth filled the lodge. Tsauz reached out to touch the ropes again, and the feathers brushed his hand. They felt cool and soft. What would Father be doing right now? Sitting before the fire in their lodge, thinking about Tsauz?
He missed Father so much it was like a fire in his chest.
A coyote yipped somewhere up on War Gods Mountain, and across the valley, an answering yip echoed. The first coyote yipped again, then howled, and up and down the shore packs of coyotes lifted their voices to join hers. The haunting melody carried on the night.
Coyote. He’s going to be coming for me.
Tsauz held on to the rope and called again.
He was so tired. He’d never been this tired in his life. The lodge started to sway. Back and forth, very slowly, as though Dancing. He could feel it moving all around him.
Rain began to pour out of the sky. He felt sorry for Pitch and Rides-the-Wind. By now they’d be soaked. Should he call to them? Tell them to come back? They could try again tomorrow, or when it finally warmed up.
“No,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “No, I have to do this! If Thunderbird is my Spirit Helper, he may be able to save Father.”
Again and again, he made the deep-throated call until his throat felt like it had been sanded.
He could barely stay awake … .
A hiss came from the rope, and it twisted in his fingers. Tsauz gasped and instinctively grabbed it with both hands, hanging on for dear life.
Thunderbird roared across the forest, and the lodge shook with such violence that Tsauz went rigid, ready for anything.
“I’m right here, Thunderbird,” he whispered. “I’m not afraid!”
The rope coiled around his wrists, tying them together. His heart battered against his ribs with such force, he couldn’t breathe.
The next roar of thunder exploded right over Tsauz’s head. He cried out when the rope suddenly went stiff, like a dead snake in his hands.
“Oh, gods, what …”
“I’m coming, young Singer. Hold on very tight.”
With a jerk, the rope soared upward, dragging him with it as it blasted through the roof and flew away into the rainy sky.
After a terrible night of rain, storm, and lightning, a cool morning wind blew out of the south, tousling Ecan’s white cape and whirling red volcanic sand across the mountain below. He crouched on the rim of the black lava wall behind Fire Village, watching the dawn-gray trails. Red Dog would be due to return this afternoon. None of the scouts, however, had sent word that they’d seen him. Had something gone wrong in Sandy Point Village? Surely Rain Bear would not have killed a messenger from Fire Village?
Slaves walked up and down the trails carrying packs on their backs or baskets propped on their hips. In the distance, down the mountain, he could see people in the Salmon Village plaza. Their gloriously colored clothing flashed as they moved.
After Matron Gispaw’s murder, her daughter, Kaska, had become the town matron. Her first order had been to build an enormous ceremonial lodge where she and a few of her most trusted allies lived—and, no doubt, where they could watch each other’s backs. He didn’t blame her for being frightened. The Wolf Tails were paid well enough that they could buy off almost any guard.
Dzoo emerged from her lodge, and people scattered like ripples of frightened birds across the Fire Village plaza. He watched her through slitted eyes. Every servant they sent her became seriously ill. Now, wherever she walked, people avoided her.
“Are you ever the clever witch,” he mused. “No one has the courage to watch you too closely. Those who do end up vomiting their guts out for days.”
She shielded her eyes and gazed out to the west.
Ecan followed her gaze. Someone ran the trail in the distance. Each time his moccasins struck the ground they left a dark dimple in the trail.
Red Dog?
He glanced back at Dzoo, and his pulse began to pound. She couldn’t see the runner. The palisade blocked her view. How could she possibly know he was out there?
One of the slaves who’d been scraping hides near the central fire glanced up, noticed her, and froze. She nudged her neighbor, and within moments they had picked up their scrapers and left. Immediately thereafter, the flint knappers grabbed up their tools and scuttled inside. In the space of a dozen heartbeats the only people left outside were Ecan, Dzoo, the guards and a few of the Four Old Women’s slaves. They had no choice. They’d been ordered to stay in the plaza, but hushed conversations broke out.
He rose to his feet.
Dzoo’s gaze lifted to him.
It was like being struck by lightning. His fists clenched involuntarily.
Her long red hair danced in the sunlight. She wore a clean maroon dress, and her large spear point hung down between her breasts. She smiled, but her eyes remained as inhumanly luminous as polished obsidian beads.
Ecan didn’t breathe until she turned away again to look in the direction of the man trotting up the trail. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. As though she could feel him.
Ecan signaled to the guard who stood at the opposite end of the lava cliff.
The young man trotted toward him.
“Yes, Starwatcher?” Hunter bowed. His thin face bore a coat of dust. Dull-eyed, he must have been standing guard all day.
“Find out who that runner is. If it’s Red Dog, send him to me immediately.”
“Yes, Starwatcher.” Hunter bowed and trotted away.
A commotion broke out when Red Dog arrived at the palisade gate. He wore a dirty brown knee-length shirt and a red headband to keep his gray-streaked black hair out of his eyes. Hunter approached him, then turned to point to where Ecan stood on the crest of the lava cliff. Red Dog dusted off his sleeves, said something, and headed around the palisade to the trail that led up over the cliff.
When he’d climbed to within three paces, Ecan called, “Greetings, Red Dog. I pray your journey was uneventful.”
“Uneventful?” Red Dog walked toward him. “Sleeper’s warriors chased me half the way home. He’s canny. You never know where he is or what he’s up to. You just catch glimpses of him or his men running behind you.”
“At least you’re alive.”
“Yes, well, once I’ve eaten and rested, I might agree with you.” He mopped his sweating forehead with his brown sleeve. “I presented your offer.”
“Yes, and … ?”
“Rain Bear said he would not exchange your son for the witch. It seems he didn’t believe you could get Dzoo out of Fire Village.”
Red Dog had a strange gleam in his eyes that Ecan didn’t understand, but it made him nervous. He said, “Then he refused my offer.”
“I didn’t say that.” Red Dog braced his feet, as though he could barely keep standing. “He said he hated dealing with a spineless coward, but he had his own offer to make.”
Ecan bristled at the word “coward,” but said, “What offer?”
“He wishes to meet with you. Somewhere away from Fire Village. You may bring one guard, and he will bring one—”
“What?” he half shouted before he caught himself. “Does he think I’m a fool? Meet him with only one guard? I would never agree to something so ridiculous! Why is it important that we meet?”
“He doesn’t believe he can trust your messenger.” Red Dog grinned. “But then he doesn’t know how much you’re paying me.”
Ecan would be completely vulnerable. But if Rain Bear actually came as promised, so would he. No, no, it was too dangerous to consider.
“Did you see my son?”
“No.” Red Dog shook his head, and his graying black hair fluttered over his muscular shoulders. “The instant I got close to their camp, Dogrib grabbed me and had me trussed up like a deer ready for roasting. I never got inside the village. They kept me hidden in the forest. Which probably saved my life.”
Ecan felt suddenly hot. By now, Tsauz would be feeling utterly lost and alone. “Did you hear anyone speaking about my son?”
“Several of Rain Bear’s warriors whispered that Tsauz was sleeping in Rides-the-Wind’s lodge. They said the crazy old hermit was teaching your son.”
“Teaching him?”
“That’s what they said.”
Ecan frowned. “Why would that old fool choose to teach my son?
Tens of young Dreamers come to Rides-the-Wind every cycle begging to be taught by him.”
Was it some kind of trick? Perhaps a way of turning Ecan’s own son against him? “I doubt you heard correctly, Red Dog.”
“Oh,” Red Dog replied with arched brows, “I heard correctly, but the guards might have been lying. Perhaps they knew I was listening and said it just for my ears. Why would that be? They wished me to tell you, so that you would … what? Call down the Sea Eagles to tear the old man apart?”
Ecan couldn’t think of a good answer to that. The information about Rides-the-Wind was inconsequential. It wouldn’t change his actions one way or the other. So, maybe it was true. Rides-the-Wind the Hermit was teaching his son to be a Dreamer.
Of all the would-be protectors Ecan could imagine, Rides-the-Wind was the only one with the Power to actually keep his son safe. A tiny thread of hope stitched across his chest.
“I’m tired, Starwatcher. I’ve told you everything important. If there’s nothing else, I’d like to go.”
“What about the Council’s offer?”
“Refused.”
Ecan narrowed his eyes, trying to think past Tsauz and his situation. “What does Rain Bear want?”
Red Dog gave him a sly glance, hesitated, and whispered, “The end of Cimmis and the Council.” With an offhanded gesture, he added, “If we had different leadership, perhaps there would be peace.”
Ecan’s heart leapt, but he said, “Before you go, you should know that your friend Mica is dying.”
“Mica?” Red Dog grimaced. “What happened? He was fine when I left.”
Ecan shrugged. “I wish I knew. White Stone came to me yesterday to tell me they’d found Mica lying on his floor shaking. Every muscle in his body is twitching. I suspect he’ll be dead by morning.”
Red Dog’s brows knit. “Isn’t Mica the one who opened the witch’s pack right after the battle—”
“Yes.”
“But you said the bags were filled with harmless things: bat droppings and dirt!”
Down in the plaza, Dzoo stood in the same place, watching them, her full lips slightly parted as if in anticipation. He said, “Lion Girl and Dance Fly are also ill with the shaking disease.”
Red Dog glanced at Dzoo and whispered, “The slaves who were tending Dzoo?”
“Yes.”
“Hallowed Ancestors! And the great chief? How is he taking this?”
Ecan smiled grimly. “Cimmis wants to make her happy here. He seems to think she could be a rallying point for the Raven People if she’s harmed. He’s had her old lodge prepared and ordered his slaves to bring her new clothing and moccasins. He even ordered his personal jewelers to make her pendants and bracelets from the finest polished stones and shells in Fire Village. Oh, and she’s free to wander about as she pleases.”
Red Dog raised a pensive eyebrow. “Free! But that’s insane! Doesn’t he understand who she is? What she is?”
Ecan rubbed his jaw. “Yes, well, apparently we can’t keep her locked up anyway. She might as well be free.”
Red Dog stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Depending on which story you believe, she walked through the wall of the captives’ lodge one night. Deer Killer was standing guard. He thinks she changed herself into a bird and flew out the smoke hole. White Stone is convinced that she used the ‘missing ropes’ to climb out.”
Red Dog’s gaze fixed on Dzoo. “But if she climbed out, why didn’t Deer Killer see her? He didn’t fall asleep on duty, did he?”
“White Stone believes he did. That’s why Deer Killer is standing double shifts.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t have Deer Killer skinned alive.”
“Apparently Cimmis forgot to give the order. There were four other guards posted around Fire Village that night. No one saw Deer Killer fall asleep. No one saw Dzoo escape.”
Red Dog tapped his chin. “Why is she still here? If she could get out of the punishment lodge, the village palisade would be like a net bag is to a bowl of water.”
Ecan gave him a thoughtful look. “That, my friend is a good question.”
“Anything else odd happen while I was gone?”
“Oh, one man said he saw ball lightning around midnight one night.” Ecan lifted a hand to demonstrate. “He said it plummeted out of a starry sky, bounced around the roof of Dzoo’s lodge, and vanished.”
Red Dog instinctively gripped the stiletto on his belt. “Who said that?”
“Deer Killer.”
Red Dog relaxed. “Why, imagine that! Deer Killer again. He probably dreamed it when he was asleep on duty.”
“I think his fear has gotten in the way of his senses. He also told me he …”
Cimmis ducked out of his lodge and walked out into the plaza. He wore a plain knee-length blue war shirt belted at the waist with a braided sea-grass cord. Rather than the ruler of the North Wind People, he appeared to be nothing more than an aging warrior. Astcat was sick again, which meant Cimmis rarely left his lodge.
Ecan said, “Come along. He’ll wish to see you right away.”
When they started down the rocks toward the palisade, Cimmis saw them and stalked for the gate.
They met him at the entry, and Ecan lifted a hand, calling, “Red Dog has returned, my Chief.”
Warily, Cimmis asked, “Red Dog, when did you arrive?”
“Just now, my Chief. I was on my way to see you.”
“But you stopped to report to Ecan first. Why?” Cimmis wore his gray hair in a single braid. His thin beard flipped in the wind.
Red Dog gave Ecan an uncomfortable look.
Ecan spread his arms in appeasement. “Forgive me, my Chief. I called to Red Dog and distracted him from his duties.” He smiled. “If you will excuse me, you have things to discuss.” He stepped through the gate, not bothering to look back.
Across the plaza, Dzoo’s maroon dress waffled in the wind as she walked toward the four guards who stood near the central fire. They went rigid before shoving each other to see who could get away the quickest. Deer Killer tripped over his own feet and almost fell into the coals before he righted himself. The other guards laughed and scrambled around him.
Ecan called, “Deer Killer?”
The young warrior nearly twisted his neck off spinning around to look toward the palisade gate.
Ecan strode purposefully toward him. “When is your guard duty over?”
“At dusk, Starwatcher!”
“Not tonight,” Ecan shouted. “I think you should be standing your post until dawn. From the clouds out to the west, we should have rain again. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
“Yes, Starwatcher.” At Deer Killer’s miserable look, the other guards chuckled.
Dzoo walked straight up to Deer Killer.
The young warrior bravely pulled his shoulders back and faced her, but his knees trembled.
She said something to him.
Deer Killer looked mesmerized, like a rabbit who’s just realized he stepped into a snare.
Dzoo leaned closer and spoke again; then she smiled and walked past him. The watching guards scattered, and Deer Killer’s hand twined in the fabric over his heart. He looked like he might faint.
Angry, Ecan closed the last of the distance, eyes blazing.
When he got to within ten paces, a powerful gust of wind blasted the mountain, and a tiny tornado of dirt and gravel spun into existence over Fire Village.
The whirlwind descended, gathering speed as it plunged out of the sky. It touched down, whirling coals from the fire, sucking up baskets and mats.
“Run!” someone shouted.
Ecan bellowed, “Halt! Man your posts!”
Deer Killer flinched when the first stone smacked his shoulder. Another banged across a lodge roof and sailed over the edge. Someone down below yipped.
Deer Killer spun around to greet Ecan, but before he could speak, a basket bounced off his arm with a painful crack, and Deer Killer yelled, “What the … !”
A split-cedar mat hit him in the back, then a rash of gravel and hot ash almost knocked him senseless.
Deer Killer, an arm up to fend off the wind, shrieked, “It’s her! It’s her!”
Ecan shouted, “Warrior! I order you to halt!”
Deer Killer bellowed, “Make her stop! She’s trying to kill me!”
The whirlwind flipped back and forth over the plaza, dust and debris in its wake. Then it careened away down the mountain slope, kicking up dust and detritus as it went.
Dzoo seemed untouched where she stood by one of the lodges, watching with large dark eyes. Not even her dress was rippling as the blow passed.
A breathless silence settled over the village.
Ecan focused on the guards who’d fled the wind’s wrath. Falling Cedar pawed at a hot coal that burned in a fold of his war shirt. The others cowered, staring wide-eyed up at the sky, and then back at Dzoo.
“If you are not back to your posts by the time I’ve finished calling
out your names, I will assign you as the witch’s personal guards, never to leave her side! … Black Cod!” Men lunged to obey. “Thunder Boy!”
The warriors assembled in front of him, forming a line with their chests thrown out, their gazes focused anywhere but on Ecan. The wind had left them with eyes slitted, hair whipped around their faces. Falling Cedar’s shirt still smoldered.
“I have never witnessed a more cowardly display in my life!” Ecan marched back and forth in front of them. “Deer Killer!”
The young warrior might have been on the point of tears. “Yes, Starwatcher?”
A nasty lump had already risen where the stone had bashed his temple. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet.
“What did the witch tell you before the whirlwind formed?”
Deer Killer squinted in disbelief. “She—she asked me if she knew me!”
“Knew you? Does she?”
“I’ve been her guard. She should know me.”
Ecan’s eyes narrowed. “Then she spoke to you again, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but she just asked me the same question.” Deer Killer’s arms flapped helplessly against his sides.
Soft laughter drifted from somewhere high above him.
Ecan turned in time to see Dzoo make a sweeping gesture with her arm, a graceful winglike motion.
The remaining wind stopped. Just stopped. The air might have gone suddenly dead.
Deer Killer gasped, expression ashen. Nor was he alone. The other guards were bug-eyed, jaws locked, throats working as they swallowed dryly.
Ecan slapped Deer Killer with all the force he could manage. The young warrior staggered, stunned, and wiped at his mouth. Blood leaked onto his lips.
For a split instant, Ecan saw anger glitter in the youth’s eyes. As quickly, it vanished.
“Forgive me, Starwatcher,” Deer Killer whispered.
Ecan turned, glaring at Dzoo. Their eyes met across the distance. “What is she doing to us?”
She couldn’t have heard, not from that far away; but she threw back her head, and her eerie laughter mocked them all.