“Little Dancer climbed the mountain to find a high place. There a snake bit him and his leg swelled. For four days, he waited, dying, until Wolf Dreamer appeared from sunlight."
"You know this?" One Cast asked.
Two Smokes nodded. "I am berdache. I felt the Power in his words. Together, Little Dancer and First Man Dreamed the poison from his leg. You can see the punctures still red and inflamed on his ankle. I myself have heard the Wolf Bundle calling. Little Dancer was changed. He Dreamed the Dance. He has told me a new leader has arisen among the Red Hand—a warrior who will break the strength of the Short Buffalo People. And when that happens, Little Dancer will meet Heavy Beaver and Dream the Spirals back so the world doesn't end in drought and our brothers, the buffalo and antelope, won't be hunted to extinction as our ancestors hunted the monsters."
"Then"—Hungry Bull's face worked—"you'll leave with my son?"
Two Smokes turned, placing a hand on Hungry Bull's shoulder, knowing intuitively the man's sudden worry and pain, and nodded. "Soon we will go."
"Then I'll put my pack together tonight. I'll go with you."
"No."
"But he's my son!"
"Hungry Bull, my longtime friend. He's not your son. You only raised him and loved him. He's the child of Power. Power will guide him now." Two Smokes gestured to the people. "You have never wished to meddle with Power and its ways. Here, before you, is your responsibility. These people need a leader. These people need you. Camps must be prepared. Food must be gathered. More Red Hand will be coming in the next weeks. This winter, you must feed them all."
Hungry Bull shook his head, baffled. "But if the Short Buffalo are going to be broken, if Heavy Beaver will be . . . I don't understand."
"Yes, you do, old friend. During this war, no food has been cached. Camps have been destroyed. Little Dancer didn't tell me the whole of it, but I know enough of his words to tell you the Red Hand would starve in the high camps this year. They must move lower. Power has its ways. We came here for a reason. The secret of the grass came to me when it did for a reason. Trust your old friend, Two Smokes."
Hungry Bull licked his lips, a desperate frown on his forehead.
"But my son ..."
"I will care for him. All my life, I've been prepared for this journey. We'll do what we can."
Hungry Bull fought to find the words, and only stared.
"Come, let us try these cakes we've made of milled seed. From the grass, we now take life."
Hungry Bull knotted his fists and remained standing, a stunned expression on his face.
He sat still, eyes closed, seeking. A subtle panic built and swelled within. The One lay there, just beyond reach.
The night pulsed with life, with the feeling of the One that twined around and through. Insect wings beat the air, a coyote yipped in the distance. A soft sound came from the night breezes through the juniper. Air drifted coolly across his hot face. The rock bit angrily into his flesh. A gurgle of hunger churned in his gut. Memories of voices clamored for recognition. Faces around the fire hovered new and exciting at the edges of his mind.
Fire Dancer stilled his thoughts, battling with the words and images that crept up to distract him. The Wolf Bundle beckoned, its Power drifting away like water from a punctured bag, one drip at a time.
I'm coming! Fire Dancer called, seeking to trace a way through his jumbled emotions. Elk Charm's face formed before him. The look of anguish she gave him shattered the serenity he sought.
I'm hurting her. It's my fault that she's miserable. How can I bring so much pain to someone I love? Hurting her only hurts me worse. WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF . . . TO THE ONES I LOVE?
The link he sought popped away, vanished like mist in the sun. The One beckoned, its Power shining, alluring, irresistible. Frantic, he reached out, and grasped nothing. The One remained, hovering, elusive as a spiral of smoke that can be smelled but never felt.
The way had been so easy when Wolf Dreamer had taken him to Dance. He'd experienced the thundering silence, the unity and disharmony. He'd gloried—and felt nothing. The call strengthened, drawing him on, like a man suffering of thirst while the river retreated just beyond his fingertips.
It was so easy! I just took Wolf Dreamer's hand and crossed. Why can't I do that now? Why do I get so close-only to lose it to illusion?
He settled himself again, blanking his mind, driving the deceptions of illusion from his concentration. Stillness, quiet, he stretched his mind and soul, forgetting the world around him. The One hovered closer, the sweetness of it caressing his very soul like the radiant warmth of a fire on a cold night. He sought the flames, extending himself in an effort to encompass.