He cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled, “No, he isn’t dead, Dust! And I won’t rush him along!”
Dust climbed the hill, threw him a disgruntled look as she walked past him, and stopped in front of his fire to warm her hands. Through the lodge door, she could see the Paint Rock warrior, lying on his side, one arm flopped out before him. He looked very young. Fifteen or sixteen winters. She must know him, but she couldn’t place his face, or name. He’d probably recently been given a man’s name, which explained why she’d never heard it, but she wished she knew his lineage. Every member of the Turtle Nation was related somehow. He might be her uncle’s brother’s son, or something. Upon meeting a stranger in the forest, a person always began the conversation by asking the stranger’s clan. Lineage provided a basis for friendship.
Sparrow edged around the fire pit to curiously peer at Dust. His round face and hooked nose shone with mist. He arched his brows expectantly. “What?”
“Sit down, Sparrow. I have news.”
Sparrow eased onto his stump across the fire, watching her. It took less than one hundred heartbeats for her to get to the part about the curse he’d supposedly placed on Jumping Badger. She stopped, folded her arms, and glared at him. Beads of fog glittered on her long gray braid, and pearled the shoulders of her deerhide cape. Behind her, the smoke from the village coiled across the sky like a lazy blue-gray serpent. Four young boys had risen and, laughing, trotted down to the lake to fill water gourds.
Sparrow raised his hands, as if to defend himself. “First of all, I did not curse Jumping Badger. Any problems he’s having are his own fault. I don’t know why Lamedeer said that. I assume he was desperate and wanted to throw a scare into Jumping Badger. If the story had caused Jumping Badger to hesitate, even for a moment, it would have given Lamedeer more time to save the lives of his people. It would also have weakened Jumping Badger’s position with his warriors. Who wants to go raiding with a cursed man?”
Dust still glared.
“Secondly.” He made an airy gesture. “I didn’t tell you about the Dream, because every time I mention my Spirit Helper you turn into a wild snarling beast, and I didn’t want to see it.”
“Most of your Dreams are ridiculous, Sparrow, but if I’d known about that one, I would have rallied our warriors, and sent them to help defend Paint Rock Village.”
“You would?” he asked in surprise. “I thought you didn’t believe my Dreams?”
Her eyes narrowed menacingly. “Do you recall that night you came running down the hill to tell me to order our warriors to make a thousand arrows? You said an enormous flock of crows was going to gobble up our entire nut harvest, and that if I didn’t—”
“Half of that Dream came true, Dust! The flock of crows blackened the whole sky! How was I supposed to know they’d come to eat the beetles who were devastating the trees?”
“It was your Dream. That’s how.”
Sheepishly, he answered, “Well, I was a new Dreamer then. I hadn’t figured out how to interpret the images. I—”
“Anyway,” she interrupted, deliberately ending the lengthy explanation he’d planned. “Every time I believe you, and you’re wrong, people laugh at me behind my back. That happened quite often two winters ago. My reputation couldn’t take much more.”
“Your reputation?”
“Of course I view your ‘Dreams’ warily. But I wish you’d told me your Dream about Briar.”
Sparrow bowed his head. “I wish I had, too. But you must know, Dust, that the addition of our fifteen warriors would have made no difference. Even if we’d called out every healthy person, we could have mustered no more than twenty-five or thirty people. Jumping Badger’s forces number over one hundred. He—”
“I know that.” She tucked her arms beneath her cape, and shifted uncomfortably. After several moments, she said, “Let me tell you the rest.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes, and it’s probably a trap. Jumping Badger is offering a trade. He promises to kill the Vigil Keeper and deliver Rumbler to us, if you will just remove your curse. But you and I have to go to Walksalong Village so that he can feel you remove it, or he’ll let Rumbler die.”
“Go to Walksalong Village?” he shouted. “Those people hate us, Dust! If we dance into their plaza, we’re going to have enough holes in our bodies to winnow seeds. I hardly think—”
“Cornhusk is going to go ahead of us, Sparrow. He’ll speak with Jumping Badger and arrange a safe meeting place for you to remove your nonexistent curse, then we’ll go to Lost Hill together, Jumping Badger will kill the Vigil Keeper, and you, and I, and Rumbler, will run like rats from a pack of starving wolves.”