Jumping Badger scanned the plaza. He saw nothing that would indicate people had used it in days. No hides lay staked out on the ground. No pots or baskets cluttered around the fire pits in the plaza.
The voices began again, high-pitched, like the keening of dying rabbits. The shrieks blasted his ears.
Jumping Badger tightened his grip on his stiletto and braced his legs. If they came at him from the shroud of mist, he could kill several before they knocked him down.
Rides-the-Bear and Shield Maker eased up on either side of Jumping Badger. The two young warriors who flanked them, Earth Diver and Bald One, remained behind.
Rides-the-Bear whispered, “The village looks abandoned. Perhaps they packed up and left after our last attack.”
Shield Maker answered, “Perhaps, but more likely they are hiding in the forest.”
Jumping Badger cautiously walked into the middle of the empty plaza. An orange glow took shape on the northern perimeter of the village, and relief flooded his veins. A fire!
“Look!” Rides-the-Bear said. “There’s someone there!”
Jumping Badger spread his arms, holding his staff out to one side, and his stiletto out to the other. He ordered, “Lower your bows.” He had his own bow and quiver slung over his shoulder.
The warriors exchanged a horrified glance, but did it.
Jumping Badger walked forward.
Through the glittering haze, the man took shape. He stood tall, silhouetted against the fiery orange halo.
Jumping Badger squinted, and thought he could make out flowing white hair.
As recognition dawned, Jumping Badger froze.
Rides-the-Bear asked, “Who is that?”
“That … is Silver Sparrow.”
“Silver Sparrow!” Rides-the-Bear backpedaled, and swerved to aim his bow at the old man, bracing himself as if to battle one of the Faces of the Forest.
“Don’t shoot!” Jumping Badger hissed, and batted Rides-the-Bear’s bow down. “I must speak with him first! Shield Maker, come up on my right side. Rides-the-Bear, you guard my left. You two youths, guard my back!”
Jumping Badger walked to within forty hands of Silver Sparrow, well into the halo of firelight, and tucked his stiletto back into his belt. “Lower your bow, old man.”
Silver Sparrow cautiously bent over and placed his bow and quiver on the ground. He rose with his hands up.
“So,” Jumping Badger said. “You and Dust Moon were the Turtle people traveling with Blue Raven.”
Silver Sparrow nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out long ago, Jumping Badger. Surely Cornhusk returned to Walksalong Village and told you that we were coming, as you requested, to complete our ‘bargain.’” Rides-the-Bear gave Jumping Badger a puzzled look.
“I don’t know what you’re speaking of, old man,” Jumping Badger said, and shifted nervously.
The ghosts chittered nearby.
“I think you do.” Silver Sparrow spread his arms, exposing his vulnerable chest, and walked toward Jumping Badger. “We accepted your offer. I agreed to come and remove my curse from you, and you agreed to kill Blue Raven and give us the False Face Child, alive and well.”
Shield Maker’s mouth fell open. He spun around to stare at Jumping Badger. The other two warriors gaped.
Jumping Badger said, “He’s lying, you fools!”
He could feel the world shifting around him, Sleeping Mist’s warriors, the ghosts, his own people. In the dense fog, none of them would rush. Fear would keep natural inclinations at bay. No one wanted to blindly walk into the arms of the enemy.
Jumping Badger walked closer to Silver Sparrow, his steps light, careful.
Silver Sparrow’s bushy gray brows lowered. He said, “What took you so long? I expected you much earlier.”
The comment unnerved Jumping Badger. Had the old Dreamer foreseen his coming? He held the staff with Lamedeer’s severed head like a shield before him as he approached.
Silver Sparrow grimaced at the rough-hewn crow’s-head mask that covered half of the face.
The odor of putrefying meat almost gagged Jumping Badger, and he’d grown used to it. He saw Silver Sparrow swallow the sickness that burned the back of his throat. Jumping Badger planted the staff in the ground, and lowered his fists to his sides. He saw Silver Sparrow glance at the five stilettos in his belt, four tiny, one large and deadly.
“I was detained killing your friend Blue Raven. What did you pay him to betray his people?”
The mist stirred at the edges of the village, swaying and spinning. Jumping Badger flinched. Had it been touched by a breeze or the cautious movements of ghost warriors?
Silver Sparrow spread his feet. “I gave him what he wanted most.”
Jumping Badger’s chin lifted. He peered at Sparrow through one eye. “And what was that?”