Sparrow frowned at the fire. “Well, we all have our problems, Blue Raven. Ours is to find Rumbler before Jumping Badger does. I don’t suppose you have any notion of where he and his war party might be, do you? So we can avoid them?”
“I don’t,” Blue Raven answered. “In fact, since I made no attempt to disguise my trail, I should already be dead. The storms may have delayed them, but they will not have stopped them. Not if what you say is true. Jumping Badger is honor bound to find me.”
“And your niece, don’t forget,” Dust added coldly. “Among the Turtle Nation, we would never condemn a child to death. You Bear Nation people must be monsters to—”
“Matron.” Blue Raven looked Dust straight in the eyes, and lowered his hands to his sides. “Please. I did not make this decision, and I have never cast my voice to condemn a child. I love my niece very much. No matter what I have to do to save her, I will.”
Dust’s eyes locked with Blue Raven’s. “Even if it means going against the orders of your clan matrons?”
Blue Raven hesitated. As Headman he could never admit to such a thing. “I think the Walksalong matrons are … confused. Misinformed. Once they understand the facts, I’m certain they will see reason.” But he exhaled unsteadily, and put a hand on his belly, as if to still its churning.
“Despite the confidence of your words, Blue Raven,” Dust said, “you do not appear certain. Though I pray you are right.”
Blue Raven smiled. “I value your prayers, Matron. Please keep praying.”
Sparrow pointed to the pack beside Dust. “Dust, I’m hungry, could you hand me—”
“The food bags,” she finished, and reached for them. “I think Blue Raven could use something in his stomach, too.”
Nineteen
Blue Raven sat cross-legged on the snow between Silver Sparrow and his former wife. While Sparrow went about fixing cornmeal gruel for breakfast, Matron Dust Moon tried to appear casual, plaiting her silver hair into a thick braid, but her gaze never left Blue Raven, and he felt it like an icy dagger in his chest.
The pink echoes of sunrise danced through the Cloud Giants, giving a rainbow shimmer to parts of the morning sky.
Blue Raven sipped the cup of tea they had offered, and said, “This is excellent.”
“Thank you,” Dust Moon replied. “It’s my own mixture.”
“Do you purposely dry the rose petals, or let them dry naturally on the plant?”
“I pick them fresh and dry them near a fire. The flavors keep longer.”
Silver Sparrow added dried blueberries to the bubbling cook pot and stirred it with a horn spoon. “She first blended that tea thirty-three winters ago. It was autumn, the Moon of Blazing Leaves, and Dust had been out with our oldest son picking berries at a hunting camp north of here called Cranberry Bog. She started gathering a little of this and some of that, and when she brewed it that night for supper, we all thought it delicious. She’s made it ever since.” Sparrow smiled fondly, but not at Dust Moon, at the cook pot.
Pain briefly lit the matron’s eyes, but just as quickly vanished. Silver Sparrow glanced up at her, and clenched, his jaw.
Blue Raven did not know much about women, but he knew something about men. Silver Sparrow still loved Dust Moon.
Sparrow got to his feet. “Dust, while this finishes cooking, I think I will go and look for some of our things that blew away in the storm last night.” He turned to Blue Raven and his eyes narrowed. “Just as a precaution, let me tell you that Dust Moon carries a stiletto and a knife, and knows how to use them. I taught her. In addition, I will always be in sight of camp. My eyes will rarely be off you, Blue Raven. Understand?”
“Yes. I do.”
Silver Sparrow walked toward the trees to Blue Raven’s left.
Blue Raven waited until he’d passed beyond hearing range, then said, “He treats you as a wife, Matron, not a former wife.”
She continued braiding her hair. “Well, he’s been doing it for most of his life. He can’t help it.”
“How long were you joined?”
“Thirty-five winters.”
Blue Raven propped his elbows on his drawn-up knees. Dust Moon watched him, the wrinkles in her forehead deepening. As the light shifted, the boulder behind. her glittered and sparkled. “Divorcing must have been difficult after so long. I, myself, have never been married, but I’ve heard divorced people say they felt as if they had lost a part of themselves.”
The coldness in her eyes thawed a little. She pulled a cord from her pack and tied it around the end of her braid. “Why did you never marry?”