People of the Masks(165)

She took it, and tied it to her own belt.

Jumping Badger ordered, “Rides-the-Bear, organize the warriors into groups of two. Once you have them assembled, we will send three groups around to the south.” He demonstrated, drawing an arc with his left hand. “One group, as well as you and Shield Maker, will come with me. The others will go to the north.” He drew another arc. “At my first signal, all southern groups will begin closing in around the village. My second signal will tell the northern groups to move in. If we …”

Laughter. Soft. Insidious.

Jumping Badger jerked around to Lamedeer. “Why are you laughing!” He lunged for the staff and shook it violently. The mask slipped, revealing a grisly hairless scalp and one rotted eye. It peered at Jumping Badger malevolently.

“Answer me! Is something happening that I do not know about?”

The inhuman laughter faded into nothingness.

Behind Jumping Badger, the warriors shifted, and muttered darkly.

He swung around to glower at them, and they backed away. Most pretended to have found something fascinating on the toes of their moccasins.

Rides-the-Bear stood with his fists clenched, glancing between Jumping Badger and the severed head.

Jumping Badger said, “Didn’t you hear me? I told you to organize groups!”

“Yes, War Leader.” Rides-the-Bear hurried away, and Jumping Badger heard him whispering orders.

The mist spiraled in his wake, twisting up and blending with the glittering grayness. Grandfather Day Maker must have sunk below the western horizon. A dusky pall had settled over the shore. The waves lapped more softly. Wind Mother had gone still and silent.

Elk Ivory, Buckeye, and Acorn stood in a knot to his left, staring at Jumping Badger with cold eyes. Little Wren sat with her head down, but he could see the miserable wretch watching him. Hate oozed from every pore of her young body. She would never forget that he had killed her uncle before her eyes. When she got older, Jumping Badger would have to watch her carefully, or he might awake some night with an arrow in his own belly.

Rides-the-Bear trotted back. “We are ready, War Leader.”

“Good,” Jumping Badger said, and his gaze traced the trail that led up the hill. “Dispatch the groups.”

But he did not move. Instead, he cocked his ear to the mist, straining to hear what the ghosts were saying. Their voices had gone almost too soft to …

He screamed, “What are you saying? Tell me!”





The others had gone. Elk Ivory stood with her bow in her hand, her eyes narrowed, as if seeing something in the mist that Wren did not.

Through the thick twilight fog, Wren could feel Rumbler. He hid somewhere close. His souls wavered at the edges of hers, the touch feathery and soft.

Oh, Rumbler, stay hidden. They’re coming.

“Stand up, Wren,” Elk Ivory murmured.

The ropes had cut deep gashes in Wren’s wrists. Pain shot up her arms as she braced her hands on the sand and struggled to her feet.

“I’m r-ready, Elk Ivory.”

Elk Ivory’s head did not move, but her eyes lowered to look at Wren.

Wren stood shaking, her lungs heaving.

Elk Ivory pulled her knife and cut the rope tied to her belt, then sawed through the ropes around Wren’s hands. Wren watched the bloody ropes fall to the ground and looked up in disbelief.

“I can’t protect either of us unless I’m free to move,” Elk Ivory said. “And you can’t protect yourself with your hands bound.”

“Protect … myself? You’re going to let me?”

“Yes, I want you to stay close to me for as long as you can, but if things start looking bad, you are to run.”

Wren wet her chapped lips. “Elk Ivory, why don’t you just tie me up somewhere, like Acorn said. Or—or let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” Elk Ivory exhaled. “Jumping Badger will come back, see my actions written in the sand, and have the reason he needs to kill me.” She pulled an arrow from her quiver, and nocked it. “But if your tracks part from mine in the passion of the fight, no one will blame me.”

Wren forced a swallow down her aching throat. Had she heard right? Had Elk Ivory just told her how and when to escape?

“I don’t understand … what are you saying?”

Elk Ivory gave Wren a hard look. “And don’t come back, Wren. I know your uncle told you he wished you to go home and become clan matron … but you must trust me that that was bad advice. I tell you this as one woman to another. If you come home people will go crazy, they’ll start asking questions and, someday, the truth will come out.” She tested the tension on her bowstring, pulling it back and releasing it. “I promised your uncle I would do my best to keep you alive. If you wish to help me keep that promise, you will never return to Walksalong Village.”