She nodded, closed the bag and tucked it back into her pack.
Sparrow ripped off a piece of tough jerky and chewed. And chewed.
They ate in silence.
Wind Mother ambled through the valley, rustling the trees and grass, and swinging the pot on the creaking tripod.
Dust shivered. “Great panther, it’s cold.”
Sparrow rose to his feet, picked up the deerhide he’d been sitting on, and walked around the fire. “Yes, and Rumbler is staked out in this, with no cape or blanket.” He handed her the hide. “We should—”
“Keep the hide, Sparrow. You need it as badly as I do.”
He roughly draped it over her shoulders. “Don’t tell me what I need. I know far better than you, and always have.”
He walked back to his side of the fire, and tucked his cup into his pack. The sky had begun to gray. “Dawn Woman is waking,” he said. “We should get to our canoe.”
Through she wore her fox cape and wolfhide mittens, the cold wind sucked the warmth from Wren’s body. In the dim blue-gray light, the snowflakes appeared to come out of nowhere, pirouetting down silently onto the Sunshine Boy’s naked branches, and Wren’s upturned face. Snow glistened on her eyelashes.
She knelt beside Trickster’s grave. “I don’t know what to do, Trickster. A nightmare woke me. I was cold with sweat and crying. I—I was back at the river, where my parents’ canoe washed up, and I knew that Mother was dead, and all my strength with her.” Snow began to fill the grave again. She brushed it away. “I was alone, and I didn’t know which trail led back to Walksalong Village. But I could hear you barking, Trickster, far away, and I tried to follow your voice. I knew that if I could find you, I would be safe.”
She wiped her nose with her mitten, and let out a halting breath. The snow swirled down like feathers plucked from the Night Walker’s lodges. Four hands blanketed the meadow. It looked bright and luminous in the pale morning glow.
“I forgot to bring you a toy today, Trickster. I’m sorry. Tomorrow I—I’ll bring your blanket. I’ve been sleeping with it around my feet at night. But I think you need it more than I do.”
Wren gazed down with blurry eyes. “Do you remember Rumbler? He was staked down”—she turned and pointed to the spot twenty hands away—“right there. Remember how he cried?”
Wren tucked her hands beneath her fox-fur cape and shivered. “I’m afraid that he …”
Movement caught her eye. A hundred hands away, down near the trail, something dark passed between the tree trunks. She held her breath, listening, watching. Probably a deer.
She brushed Trickster’s grave clean again. “Rumbler’s in real trouble,” she whispered. “I’m afraid he’s dying. I know it’s the will of our people, Trickster, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve death. I think that Mossybill, Skullcap, and White Kit just died. It happens. People die for no reason. My parents and Skybow did.” More softly, she added, “And you did.”
She shivered, and whispered, “I’ve been thinking terrible thoughts, Trickster. I want to do things that I know are wrong. Things that will get me into a lot of trouble. I’ve seen twelve sun circles. I should know my place and my duties to my clan. But I—”
Wren jerked to her left again. As dawn neared, light grew in the shadowed places, and she could make out what appeared to be two men. Both tall. They stood in the trees just off the trail. One had his arm braced against a tree. They stood very close together, as if speaking confidentially.
Wren whispered, “I love you, Trickster. I’ll be back. I promise.”
Rising to her feet, she crept into the brush that bordered the meadow, and worked her way toward the men, ducking under branches, sidestepping deadfall, until she could see them more clearly.
Cornhusk faced her. His rotted front teeth gleamed when he smiled. “I canoed like a warrior,” he said. “They’re old. It will take them longer, but they should be here tomorrow night, or perhaps the morning after.”
The man standing with his back to Wren dropped his hand from the tree and clenched it into a fist. “I have the meeting place picked out.” Jumping Badger! “First, Sparrow will remove his curse. Then I’ll kill them both. After that, I’ll steal the False Face Child and sell him to the Flicker chieftains. They pay handsomely for such prizes. They cut dwarfs apart slowly, eating the flesh as they go, to gain the dwarf’s Spirit Power.”
Cornhusk straightened. “What purpose will killing two old people—”
Jumping Badger took a threatening step toward the Trader. “Four nights ago, I had a Power Dream. In it, I saw Silver Sparrow’s army of ghosts. They swooped down upon me from the clouds, and slithered up from holes in the ground.” Jumping Badger leaned closer to Cornhusk, and Wren could see his dark eyes glimmer as he said, “They’re hunting me, Trader. I have to stop them. If even one member of Silver Sparrow’s clan survives, I will die. That is my Dream.”