"But Little Dancer, he's different. He has his mother's Power in him. Clear Water heard a voice, a voice she thought was from the First Man, the Wolf Dreamer. Look where it took her and what happened. That's why Power makes me nervous. I'm part of it; it rolls around me and through me. I'm the bridge—the communicator—between this world we live in and the Power. Power is why I am the way I am—but I don't see the reasons behind the things that happen. I don't know where it's going or what it's making of us. All I know is that Little Dancer is Powerful, and he's going to be an important man one day. You may take the word of a berdache on that."
An important man? She felt a curious excitement.
"Ah, interest, hmm?" Two Smokes scratched the back of his ear. "Perhaps I didn't do anyone any service. Listen, girl, and remember we're talking about Power. Little Dancer is the important one ... the one Power is working on. Despite White Calfs worries, I think he can't avoid it. Someday, he must follow the Power.
"Heed me, Elk Charm. Power might make a man important, but it can also make him difficult to live with. Power tends to use people like a hunter uses his tools. A dart is made with great skill and effort. It is prepared, blessed, spirit is breathed into it. Then the hunter uses it. He makes his cast. That dart, so carefully crafted, is loosed to land we know not where. Perhaps it will strike a deer or an elk in the side, piercing its lungs and heart, bleeding the animal to death so that people can eat. Perhaps it will miss completely and smack a rock. The point will shatter, the wood will split, and there it will be left . . . forever."
She looked up at him, a hollow forming under her heart.
"Do you want to take that chance?" Two Smokes asked gently, a sympathetic warmth in his eyes.
She swallowed hard, unsure how to answer.
"Hey! Hungry Bull!"
Little Dancer looked up from the bloody buffalo quarter he bent over. Three Toes came skipping and jumping down through the meadow, arms held high, a joyous laughter split in the middle by loud whoops. Behind came Black Crow, a huge grin on his radiant face. Makes Fun followed with Meadowlark and the children. Another woman walked before Black Crow, her face anything but happy.
"Three Toes?" Hungry Bull straightened, shading his eyes with a blood-caked hand. "It's you!"
A melee resulted as Hungry Bull, Three Toes, Black Crow, and the rest shouted and danced and hugged and slapped each other on the back.
Little Dancer turned to the woman first, ignoring the babble of questions and laughter from the men. "You're not Short Buffalo People," he noted in Anit'ah.
"No. I'm not." Her hard eyes bored into his. Even in his youth, Little Dancer noted the handsome lines of her face. She added a little testily, "They caught me yesterday." A wry smile curled her lips. "Perhaps I'm getting older than I thought."
Little Dancer glanced sideways at the backslapping mob centered around his father. "They didn't hurt you."
She chuckled dryly. "Outside of my dignity, no."
"I am Little Dancer. I live at White Calf's camp with—"
"I know who you are. Is my daughter there? Her name is Elk Charm; she would have arrived a hand's full of days ago."
"She's there. She's fine. You're Rattling Hooves?"
She filled her lungs. "I'm Rattling Hooves." She looked over at where the knot of Short Buffalo People still danced and shouted questions in such confusion that no one could be heard. "I didn't know what was happening. The warriors could sign in Trader Signs for White Calf and ask directions. Since they didn't hurt me, I led them here. But you should know that Blood Bear has found their tracks and is following them with a war party."
Little Dancer's blood chilled.
"Father!" he called, waving to catch Hungry Bull's eye. Despite the festive nature of the occasion, the tension must have signaled him. Hungry Bull disengaged himself from Meadowlark's happy embrace and walked over, one arm around Three Toe's shoulder.
"Blood Bear is on his way here with a war party," Little Dancer explained in the tongue of the People. "This is Elk Charm's mother. Perhaps we should get back to the camp and see what White Calf has to say?" He looked up at Three Toes. "You've come for a visit?"
"To stay," Three Toes supplied uneasily. "Heavy Beaver . . . well, he's made it impossible for us among the People. He's become very powerful. White Calf was our only chance."
Hungry Bull's excitement faded like the shadow of a tiny cloud in an endless summer sky. "The Red Hand are still angry over the People's raid last year. The souls of the killed are still roaming unburied."
"I told you Heavy Beaver would haunt us," Three Toes reminded.