Gravel crunched under a light foot. Sagebrush rasped on tanned moccasins as a woman climbed from below. Sage Root steeled herself, knowing the decision loomed over her. Why did the responsibility have to be hers?
"What are you going to do?" Chokecherry asked, puffing up the last bit of slope, stopping, pressing wrinkled hands to the small of her back as she straightened and winced. Joints crackled in the stillness. The old woman cocked her head, staring across the darkened hollow and the knots of worried people.
Sage Root sighed, picking at the long-dried blood caking her fingers. "I don't know. They're afraid. He Cursed the meat."
Chokecherry grunted noncommittally.
“I know I didn't offend the antelope. I just know it! I looked into the doe's eyes. Our souls locked and she understood. I saw! I know the antelope don't begrudge the meat. I felt the tightness of the song as I Sang in my head."
Chokecherry nodded, a quick birdlike motion. "Then the meat's clean.”
“But what about Heavy Beaver's Curse?"
Chokecherry smacked thin lips over toothless gums 'What about it?" She hesitated uneasily. "1 think he's out to get you one way or another "
She nodded, soul frost settling around her miserable heart
"I can't win, can I? There isn't a way out of this that won't waste the antelope, or offend Heavy Beaver."
"No."
"But what can I do? Tell me what to—"
"I can't. It's on your shoulders, girl."
Sage Root stepped closer, peering at the old woman's night-shadowed face. "I—I'm not a Spirit Dreamer. I'm just . . . me.
Chokecherry nodded. "Just you. And this is your decision. You killed the antelope. Heavy Beaver took it as an opportunity to destroy you. He—"
"We're starving! I refuse to look at the hunger in my boy's face! I refuse to watch his ribs sticking out, his limbs wasting! Look into the eyes of the children, Chokecherry! Look at them! I lost two babies. Two! I'm not about to lose this one. Heavy Beaver's got us killing our own children if they're born female! How do you think Dancing Doe will ever live with herself? We're dying!"
The old woman stood before her tirade, unflinching. "And Heavy Beaver's Dreamed a new way—"
"You don't believe what he says about women—that we're a pollution, that it's our fault the buffalo have become ever more scarce."
"He's a Spirit Dreamer."
"You've known a lot of people with Power."
"Yes, I have." Chokecherry laughed—a hollow brittle sound. "I think I know what he is. But you're avoiding the problem. What are you going to do about the meat down there? You going to eat it? Going to feed your son? Set an example?"
"I don't—"
"Dung and flies, girl! You're in the middle of it! Don't you understand yet? You're the one who has to lead now. It's your responsibility to take this by the horns and twist the People into acting . . . making a decision. Now, the meat's down there and all the People are waiting to see what you do."
"I didn't want this. I didn't want any of—"
"Well, it's yours. Quit whining and live with it. Life happens to people. Now, accept it and get on with it. What are you going to do? We need a leader. Maybe you're it."
“And if I challenge Heavy Beaver? If he Curses me? I mean I ... He could kill me."
Chokecherry crossed her arms. In a soft voice she asked, “You believe that? You really believe he could kill you?"
Sage Root reeled at the implications, reading the old woman's challenge in her defiant posture. "He's a shaman, a . . ." She stopped herself, remembering Heavy Beaver as she'd always known him. “You don't think he could, do you?"
Chokecherry shrugged age-thin shoulders. “He might." A pause. “If you believe he can. But it's up to you. I don't know much about how Power works, but I know that you can defend yourself against it. I know that you can fight back. I also know that you can submit—and die—if that's your belief. What do you believe? You know Heavy Beaver. You know what sort of man he is. You grew up with him. Do you really believe Power came to him, just like that, when Horn Core died?" She snapped her fingers in emphasis.
Sage Root caught a handful of her hair, twisting it around into a thick rope, feeling the pull against the back of her scalp. “I only started to take him seriously when he began seeking visions."
“Uh-huh."
Sage Root frowned into the night sky, the reassuring flickers of stars beginning to fill the Starweb. “But he wouldn't get Spirit Power if he didn't deserve it, would he?"
Chokecherry placed a hand on her arm. “I don't know what to think. I don't know what's happening, why the game is going away, but Heavy Beaver's always been a little strange. I've watched him grow up as an adult watches a child develop. I don't know. His mother always protected him. She ran over his father like a buffalo tramples grass. She kept the boy from life, from play with the others. She never let him run with the pack. She always fought his battles for him. You know what happened to Heavy Beaver's father? He left. Took what was on his back and moved out of the lodge. Last I heard he'd finally died over east somewhere in Two Stones’ band."