A chill tickled Wren’s spine.
Frost-in-the-Willows leaned over. “Stop fidgeting, girl. Do you wish to lie down in my lap?”
Her grandmother wore her white hair in a bun on top of her head, and the style highlighted the deep wrinkles that carved her brown face. Wren shook her head. “No. I want to watch. I’m worried about Rumbler.”
Frost-in-the-Willows gave her an alarmed look. “Do you think it is a child to be pitied? It is a murdering Forest Spirit in disguise!”
“But …” Wren looked back at Rumbler. “He has a boy’s eyes, Grandmother.”
“You are not looking, girl. Like a dog fascinated by its own reflection in a pond, all you see-is appearance. Look deeper. Find the fish swimming beneath the surface. That is the way to wisdom.”
Wren toyed with the laces on her moccasins and wondered about the things Uncle Blue Raven had said. How could Jumping Badger have attacked Paint Rock Village if Rumbler possessed such great Power?
“Grandmother? Do you think the boy … the False Face … can fly? Starflower called him the Disowned and said he flew up to the roof after he killed White Kit. I know that some people say the Disowned is just an old man who lives far to the north, but if he’s really a Spirit, I was wondering—”
“Shh! Blue Raven has a hand up. Try listening to your elders, not thinking a little girl’s puny thoughts.”
Wren closed her mouth, and puzzled over the Disowned comment. She had heard the story many times, about a young man who so desired his brother’s wife that he murdered his brother to get her. The horrified woman killed herself in grief, and the young man, overcome with guilt, drowned himself. When his soul reached the Up-Above-World, the Night Walkers refused to let him enter. Wind Mother herself shoved him through a hole in the sky and sent him tumbling toward earth. The forsaken young man sprouted wings as he fell. He became a homeless Forest Spirit, fluttering from place to place, shunned by all other beings.
Could the Disowned be the same Forest Spirit that had fathered Rumbler? Memory tugged. She had heard that somewhere. Maybe from Jumping Badger.
Uncle Blue Raven spoke to Loon. “For many winters, I fought at Mossybill’s side. More than once, he saved my life.” He paused, then added, “And more than once I saved his. I cannot believe he would have wished this spectacle. He risked his life to capture the False Face Child, and to bring him back to us safely. Do you think that Mossybill or Skullcap would have wanted to see us arguing over whether or not the child should live? Let us all speak directly. That is what we are discussing. Search your souls. The Walksalong Clan lost many precious members in this raid. Shall we spit upon their sacrifices? They believed that the False Face Child would bring us safety, and peace!”
“But all it has brought us is death!” Loon said, wringing her hands. “Let’s kill it before we lose anyone else! The raid was a mistake! A terrible mistake! Let us admit it, and go on!”
Blue Raven threw up his arms when the clamor increased. “Wait! Quiet! Please!”
Elk Ivory stood up at the edge of the circle behind Blue Raven. She wore her shoulder-length hair tucked behind her ears. She shouted, “Listen to Blue Raven! This is not how we live our lives! Everyone has the right to speak, and we have the obligation to hear their words!”
Blue Raven turned and gave her a grateful look, but the din only grew worse.
Wren cupped her hands over her ears. The deer hair that stuck out around Rumbler’s neck quivered and glittered in the firelight. He was shaking. The sight made Wren feel small and broken inside—like a featherless baby bird tumbling from a tree. He had seen his village burned, seen people killed before his eyes, and now this. The people who had taken everything from him had decided it was a mistake.
He must hate us.
“Let us waste no more time!” Loon yelled. “I cast my voice for death! Who will join me?”
Usually these deliberations went on until midnight. The sudden question must have stunned people, because a hush fell. Whispers replaced the shouts.
Uncle Blue Raven said, “There are many others we need to hear, Loon. Where is Skullcap’s wife? Where are the men who fought at his side during the battle? Perhaps they observed an injury that would not show up on the body. A hard blow to the liver? Or a—”
“Neither man received any blows.” Jumping Badger’s deep voice pierced the night.
All heads turned toward him, and a hush fell.
Blue Raven took a step toward Jumping Badger. “How do you know, cousin? Did you watch them every moment of the battle?”
“Do you dare to say that I would select injured men to carry out the sacred duty of bringing the False Face Child back to our village?”