The Sun Clan held the bench along the south wall and wore the color yellow—symbolizing Father Sun and the life he brought to all living things. This clan maintained the sacred fires in the temples and lit them in the surrounding clan houses for the seasonal rituals. The Sun Clan carried burning brands when new fields were to be cleared or old ones retired, for fire cleansed. Old Man Sun carried fire sticks.
The western bench represented the Sky Clan, who donned blue for their sacred rituals. Blue was the color of water as well as the sky, for the two were interrelated. The sky provided rain for the fields and replenished the rivers for the fish, turtles, and waterfowl. Blue was the color of renewal. Old Man Sky carried a small jar of water.
The northern bench belonged to the Winter Clan, and their color was black, that of war, the hunt, and the winter storms.
For what good were blood, sun, sky, and water without courage, strength, and death? Life could not exist without death, nor could the day without the night. All things—be they yearly cycles or lifetimes—must eventually end. And from endings came new beginnings. Old Man North had rattles—crafted from sections of human skulls—tied to his knees so that each step he took rattled the passing of time and the inevitability of death.
Had it not always been so?
“I will be strong enough.” Green Spider’s soul chilled.
Strong enough for what?
“Before I grant you what you seek, I must test you,” the voice of Many Colored Crow told him. ‘ ‘ you fulfill the needs of Power?”
All of Green Spider’s life, he’d prepared himself to be a Dreamer. He could always sense Power just beyond the fringes of his soul. He craved it, wished to savor it. With Power, he could heal injury, bring ram, cure illness, and encourage crops to grow.
“I will do anything you ask that I may fulfill the needs of Power.”
“You seek Truth, Green Spider. If you are strong enough, I will let you experience the essence of Power. Look … look at this temple you love so. See it,, learn it, remember it.”
Flames leaped and flickered in the rock-filled fire pit in the center of the room. The orange gleam washed the magnificently painted walls with their colorful images of First Man, Wolf, Falcon, Spider, Raccoon, Turtle, and Bear. Handprints created a line across the top of the wall, while spirals shone redly between the effigy drawings.
Large pottery jars with conical bases and cord-marked sides rested beneath the low benches upon which the old men sat. The jars lay canted on their sides, each capped with fabric and tied shut with hemp cordage. Within them lay ashes: the cremated remains of the ancestors. Their Spirits had been called by prayers, the rhythmic clacking of rattles, and the Singing of the Clan Elders. Now they hovered about, watching the young man, hearing his desperate prayers.
Faces of Spirit Animals and people had been carved into four heavy cedar posts that supported the thatched roof overhead.
Firelight danced across the faces, and they seemed to change expression—ranging from intense sorrow to a mocking leer as they, too, studied the naked supplicant.
“The temple is the heart of the people,” Green Spider said.
“The sacred objects are kept here. It is the most holy place of all the clans.”
“And very sacred to you, Green Spider. It has become the center of your life. The clans have nurtured you, cared for you, given you everything you needed to become a Dreamer. Will you become more. Green Spider? Look at those old men. Feel your love for them. Yes, that’s right. Savor the warmth rising in your soul.”
Green Spider looked down, loving each of the old men, remembering the lessons they had taught him. They remained faithful, trusting him. Green Spider loved them with all of his heart as they watched over his senseless body, stoic in their vigil.
‘ ‘ is Powerful, Green Spider. Are you strong enough to deny it?”
“Deny it? Why?”
“Love can distract us from Truth—from the reality of Power.
Love is a Trickster.”
The fire had burned down, and Old Man Sun slowly stood, reached for another piece of firewood, and softly chanted as he added it to the fire pit. Then he traced the pattern of a web in the air. According to the beliefs of the people, the Sun Clan had been founded by Spider, who had brought fire to human beings just after the Creation. , The piece of cedarwood crackled and sparked, catching fire.
The ghosts shifted as they floated around Green Spider’s senseless body and whispered among themselves.
A Song rose from beyond the walls of the temple. The solstice was dawning. The Red Blood Clan stepped out of their houses and into the chilly winter morning, Singing their welcome to the light. People lifted their hands to the east, staring up with expectant faces as they chanted the ritual greeting.