Hungry Owl said, “To draw our enemies into the village?”
“Yes,” Gull answered. “The closer we can get them to come, the more the blaze will blind them, and the more light we will have to shoot them by.”
Hungry Owl’s full lips pursed. “Keeping the fire will be the most dangerous of all positions. Who did you have in mind for—”
“I will,” Sparrow said.
Dust jerked around with her mouth open. “But Sparrow, why you? Why not someone—”
“These people are risking their lives to help us, Dust. I will not have Patron Hungry Owl placing one of his loved ones in a position that I am best suited for.”
Hungry Owl said, “Why are you best suited for this position?”
“I don’t have time to tell you the whole story, Patron,” Sparrow answered, “but I think that if Jumping Badger sees me standing alone, he will want to speak with me, and his people will follow him into the plaza.”
Gull turned to look up at Hungry Owl. “That is a good reason, Patron.”
Hungry Owl looked at the firelit faces around him, and asked, “Does anyone have an objection to Silver Sparrow serving as fire keeper?”
All eyes rested on Sparrow’s calm face.
Dust reached for Sparrow’s hand and gripped it tightly.
Hungry Owl bowed his head, and the firelight accentuated the curve of his turned-up nose. “You are brave, Silver Sparrow. You will be fire keeper.”
Sparrow inclined his head, and smiled.
He appeared tranquil and composed, but his hold on Dust’s hand tightened until it hurt.
Gull’s voice went low. “Most of our loved ones are hidden at the Hollow Rocks. The rest of us must keep the Walksalongs here, and busy, as long as we can. The more we kill, the less likely they are to want to prowl the forests for missing members of Sleeping Mist Clan. Do we all understand this?”
Nods went round.
Dust Moon’s throat ached at their expressions. They had suffered greatly in the last battle, yet they stood here risking everything they had left to help her, and Sparrow, and Rumbler—distant relatives they had seen, perhaps, three times in their lives.
She lowered a hand to Rumbler’s hood, and patted his cheek through the thick fur.
“Very well,” Gull said, and rose to his feet. “Let us take our positions.”
As people vanished into the mist, Hungry Owl came around the fire to speak with Dust Moon. Beads of water pearled his hood and cape shoulders. “What did you decide about Rumbler? Shall he be taken to the Hollow Rocks with the other children?”
Rumbler groped in the folds of Dust’s skirt for her leg, and held on to it as if it were a raft in a raging ocean.
“No,” Dust said. “Rumbler and I will go into the forest by ourselves. We both have bows.”
Rumbler let out a relieved breath.
Hungry Owl said, “As you wish. There is much vine-covered deadfall all around the village. Any would make a good hiding place.”
“Thank you. I think we’ll hide somewhere to the west. I want to keep an eye on the fire.”
Hungry Owl nodded. “Yes, I understand. I would suggest the berry hill. It is covered with vines. There are many tunnels inside. Most are too small for humans, but a few have been hollowed out by wolves. If necessary you could crawl through them on your bellies.” Hungry Owl pointed. “That way.”
Dust said, “Thank you. If you need us, that’s where we’ll be.”
“And if you need me,” Hungry Owl said, “I will be behind the snowdrift to the north.”
Hungry Owl turned and silently walked north.
Dust looked down, and found Rumbler peering up at her with sparkling black eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
She took Rumbler’s hand, and looked for Sparrow. He had stepped away to talk quietly with Gull. When Gull saw her coming, he nodded politely, said, “May the Spirits be with you, Matron,” and left, trotting off to the south.
Dust stopped in front of Sparrow, but couldn’t get words out of her constricted throat.
Sparrow laid a gentle hand against her gray hair, and anxiously studied her face. “Where will you be?”
“That hill”—she pointed—“in the vines.”
Sparrow nodded. “Good. I—”
Dust slipped her arms around Sparrow’s waist and pulled him against her in a crushing grip, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. She could feel him smile against her hair.
After several moments, he said, “Go now, Dust. We may not have much time.”
She pushed away, grabbed Rumbler’s hand again, and headed for the hill.
Mist swirled before them, creating ghostly patterns. Dust squinted at the vague faces and undulating arms that drifted in and out of existence.