Next he unrolled the thin hides, settling them in ph make a sealed shelter. From the rubble below the slope collected rocks and cut more willow to make hearth sticks with which to handle hot rocks from his pack, expertly spinning them to create tire This he fed until he had a cracki to heat.
Wolf sat, tail around his legs, watching.
"We haven't eaten," Two Smokes pointed out.
"Not for days." Fire Dancer smiled. His appetite had vanished at the sight of White Calf's corpse. So much had happened. So little time remained—and so many doubts.
Reverently he picked up the Wolf Bundle, placing it where it would be safe. He dumped the contents of his pack on the ground, slogging once more through the muck to fill the pouch with water. Drips formed along the tight seams Two Smokes had sewn with such care; nevertheless, the bag held water. This he hung from a tripod made of dead aspen that he placed inside the sweat lodge.
Finally, he raised his hands to the filtered sunlight and stripped his clothing off. Two Smokes stood, shucking out of his berdache's dress. He, too, raised his hands, eyes closed as he offered a prayer to the air.
Fire Dancer used the sticks to carry hot rocks into the sweat lodge. Two Smokes ducked through the door, favoring his maimed leg. As he settled the hanging over the door, the interior of the lodge went black.
"We must purify ourselves, clear any taint from our minds and bodies." So saying, Fire Dancer Sang to the Power of the Wolf Bundle, to spirits of earth and air and water, and reached into the hanging bag. With the end of his prayer, he cast the water onto the stones, hearing the sizzle as steam rose to fill the lodge.
In one corner of his mind, Elk Charm called. Frantically, he blocked it out, willing himself to forget. The old battle began again. Sights and sounds, memories, it all rushed to clog his brain while he began to sweat. His stomach growled, longing for a warm stew. One by one, Fire Dancer forced the images from his mind, trying to clear the confusion.
Two Smokes' chanting soothed, creating a link from which Fire Dancer could expand. He let himself drift with the chant, repeating the words, feeling the Song massage his soul. Four times he cast water on the hot rocks until his skin tingled and his lungs cried out.
Time seemed to drift away in the heat and purity of the lodge. Each of his muscles slipped into a lax feeling of unity.
Around him, the earth pulsed. Through the lodge, he could feel the Power of the Wolf Bundle.
When that unity flowed through him, around him, he sighed and let the moment exist.
He crawled from the lodge, almost staggering as he stood and sucked the clean night air into his fevered lungs. His skin prickled with the feel of the breeze on his body.
Wolf stood waiting, a shadow in the darkness.
Two Smokes crawled out and lay still in the grass, breathing deeply.
Fire Dancer raised his eyes to the heavens, lifting his arms to beseech the Starweb above. "Hear us. We come to renew the Wolf Bundle, to make whole what has almost died. Help us, Wise One Above. Help us, Wolf Dreamer. We seek to make new what has been abused."
He waited, eyes to the sky, a terrible worry pressing down on him. Can I do it? Am I strong enough? What if I fail? He could feel the Power, waiting. Unbidden, the memory of Blood Bear sinking to the ground, the powerful body gone numb, settled in his mind. I'm not the one to be meddling with things like the Wolf Bundle. White Calf should be here. I'm lost.
"Help me," he croaked. A dread feeling spread.
Wolf padded up to stand before him, those terrible yellow eyes locking on his. The animal grunted, prodding him with a hard nose before backing off and snorting. Wolf lifted his muzzle, eyes closed as if in prayer.
Fire Dancer winced, picking up the one dart he'd brought with him. How could he do this? Wolf's presence loomed in the night, waiting. The Dream had been explicit. He'd seen, felt, and now he must do. He turned, driving the dart the wolf's side. The big black animal staggered, sidestepping before it fell. Blood pooled under the muzzle as the lungs drowned in the rush from severed arteries. The wolf's sides ceased to labor. The yellow eyes stared sightlessly.
Fire Dancer's breath caught at the feeling of the animal's soul as it flinched and lifted free from the body. He dropped to his knees, remembering wolfs warmth during the blizzard. He ran fingers over the sleek coat, feeling the warm flesh beneath. He'd owed his life to wolf—to the Watcher. A twist of grief formed to ache in his soul.
Forgive me. It's the way. You knew. Like a betrayer, he stared at the convulsing animal—pierced by a pain as acute as if he'd driven the dart into his own flesh. A Dream image flashed through his mind, replaying the scene of a sheep netted in a trap, the club rising. He shook himself, forcing it away, knowing the way of death, of the floating freedom.