People of the Fire(166)

"With reason." Two Smokes reached into his pouch, removing the pieces he'd been working on to sew into moccasins. "Everything Fire Dancer said last night was true. Power's been abused."

She studied him. "And do you think he can do this thing? Dream these Spirals?"

Two Smokes raised his eyebrows. "I don't know. White Calf dedicated all of her life to the study of Power. Her mind was very keen, so why did Power choose the boy? Why not someone used to Dreaming, who had a whole lifetime of it? I don't know."

Tanager hesitated. "My warriors have been reporting. The Short Buffalo are hunting. That's why we've had so few raids. They've been making meat. When they make a kill, they strip it and dry it, and carry it down to the main camp on Clear River at the Red Wall."

Two Smokes gave her a questioning glance. She looked away, avoiding his eyes.

"What do you think, Tanager

"I think they're having a ceremony." She considered for a moment, frown lines deepening. t4 If it looks like they're going to leave in the next day or so, I'm going to have to hit them hard, keep them up in the mountain.”

"And this could affect Fire Dancer?"

She continued to hesitate and nodded. "It could." Her cool stare probed. "I, too, had a Power Dream. You know how the wind comes up in the afternoon, blowing from the west?"

Two Smokes nodded.

"In two days, several of my warriors will start fires in the thick timber. Part of holding the enemy here is to trap them in the flames. The Red Hand are used to fires. We live with them. These plains people?" She lifted a shoulder. "If we can get them to panic, perhaps some may be trapped in the black timber. Others will be scattered, easy to destroy."

"You know how dry the trees are? The brush? Everything?"

She nodded. "That's why I think it will work. The Dream told me. Wait four days and light the fires. If the enemy starts to leave, we've got to attack, keep them up here in the right place. At the last minute, we'll have to pull out, leaving them to the flames. I've already set up decoy parties to lead them into the thick timber and get them lost. There are places where the deadfall is piled pretty thick."

Two Smokes experienced a flutter in his heart. "Of course! He's the Fire Dancer."

"What?"

"His Dreams. Especially the one where the forests are burning. We . . . well, we don't have much time."

She placed a hand on his arm. "Only a very few know of this. I've kept it secret. Power Dreams are not to be shared freely."

He nodded and placed a hand on hers. "I am berdache. I understand."

At that moment, wolf walked out from the sunshade. Fire Dancer, hollow-eyed and haunted, crawled out on trembling hands and knees. His features appeared pale in the light.

"Two Smokes? We need sweetgrass. We have a lot to do."

A tightness formed in Two Smokes' gut. "I think things are beginning to happen."

Tanager swallowed and nodded.

The place consisted of nothing more than a cove in the rock. On each of three sides, the walls of the mountain rose.

Pinkish-gray granite reflected the light of the setting sun. The sky streaked in tinges of reddish orange. A small spring surrounded by willows seeped into the boggy soil, draining the hollow. Aspens rattled where the slight breeze touched them. A tangle of fir masked the bottom of the rock while thick grass swished around their legs.

Two Smokes grunted, drawing Fire Dancer's attention. The old berdache's expression looked strained and rivulets of sweat streaked his lined face. Gratefully, Two Smokes settled with a grunt, rubbing hands on his knee. He winced and looked up.

'Tm not sure I can make it down the trail. That last kick Blood Bear gave me . . . well, it's never hurt so badly."

The black wolf made a circle of the spot, sniffing here and there, marking territory.

Worry settled around Fire Dancer's heart. He worked his lips, looking around. "Maybe it'll heal. We have a little time yet." Then the rushing pull of the Power filled him, driving him, prodding at his mind with pointed urgency.

“You sit. I'll make us a sweat lodge." So saying, Fire Dancer set his pack down, making sure the Wolf Bundle rested on top, unencumbered. Anxiety shot through him. How could Blood Bear have been such a fool?

With a flake taken from his pouch, Fire Dancer waded into the muck around the seep, hearing his feet squish in the soft moss. Using the sharp edge of the flake, he cut willow stems loose, Singing for the plant's soul. Sloshing out, he I stripping the leaves, driving the sharpened ends of the willow into the soft ground, bending them over in a large cross set east to west and north to south. These he tied in the middle to support the weight of the hides they'd carried. The frame work created a low dome.