“Matron,” Blue Raven said in a pained voice, “are your questions always so … piercing? Talking with you is very much like being repeatedly stabbed.”
From behind him, Blue Raven heard Silver Sparrow laugh. It was a closed-mouth, almost choking sound, as if he’d been trying to quell the urge. Dust Moon lifted her head and scowled as the aging Dreamer walked into camp. His elkhide coat, decorated with tiny red spirals and dark green trees, bore a light coating of snow. It must have blown down from the trees.
“What are you laughing at?” Dust Moon demanded to know.
Silver Sparrow crouched before the cook pot. “The tone in Blue Raven’s voice. I’ve heard it so often in my own, it sounded like an echo. Who’s hungry?”
Blue Raven didn’t know whether or not he dared smile. Silver Sparrow casually lifted a spoon and stirred the steaming pot, while Dust Moon looked on as if she longed to order his hands and feet bound, while she piled wood around his feet herself.
Blue Raven hadn’t really eaten since he’d left Lost Hill, six days ago. He’d been so worried about Wren, he’d barely noticed his gnawing hunger. Now, just the thought of food turned him desperate. “I didn’t bring anything with me, and I—”
“Where are my blankets?” Dust Moon said with an edge to her voice as she scanned Sparrow’s empty hands. “Did you look for them?”
Silver Sparrow stirred the gruel. “I looked. I didn’t find.”
“Not even one of them?”
“Not even a piece of one of them, Dust. Given the force of that wind last night, I suspect every shred is floating in Green Spider Lake by now.” Silver Sparrow tasted the gruel, nodded approvingly, and held out his free hand. “Would you pass me the bowls, Dust? This is done.”
Dust Moon picked them up, and slapped the bowls into his palm with such force that Sparrow’s hand dipped into the flames.
The Dreamer concentrated on keeping his expression bland, but the odor of scorched hair filled the camp. “Thank you so much, Dust,” he said, and turned to Blue Raven. “Do you have a bowl in your pack? We only brought two.”
“I’m afraid I don’t even have a pack,” he said. “I left hastily. May I use this cup?” He lifted it.
“That’s fine.” Sparrow took the cup.
As Sparrow filled the cup and bowls and handed them around the fire, the scent of steaming blueberries rose. Blue Raven used his fingers as a spoon. The mixed sweetness of cornmeal and berries affected him like a lover’s touch. The more he ate, the more calm and content he became.
When he’d finished, Blue Raven scooped his cup in the snow to clean it, and said, “I overheard you say that you thought the children might be heading for Paint Rock Village. It has been many winters since I’ve traveled this trail. With the snow, how long do you think it will take us to get there?”
“Us?” Dust asked. “We’re not traveling with you!”
“Matron, please, it will better for everyone if we cooperate with each other. I—”
“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you, and leave you here to rot?”
Blue Raven steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, and thoughtfully answered. “Because, Matron, I am the only one who might be able to talk the Walksalong elders into allowing Little Wren to live. You seemed worried about my niece earlier. You said that anyone who would condemn a child to death must be a soulless monster. If you kill me, you will also be killing Wren. If you do not help me, you may, inadvertently, be responsible for her death. You don’t wish to see her dead, do you?”
Dust’s jaw moved beneath the thin veneer of skin. “No. No, I don’t.”
Silver Sparrow rested his spoon in his bowl. “If we push ourselves, and don’t see any new storms, we might make it to Paint Rock by the day after tomorrow.”
Dust Moon gave Sparrow an anxious look. “The children have been traveling a day longer than we have. Do you think we really have a chance of cutting them off before they arrive?”
“It’s possible, Dust, but I—”
Blue Raven said, “Rumbler was not well, Matron. I don’t imagine the children can move very fast. When they left Lost Hill, Wren was dragging the False Face Child on a blanket, or hide. She dragged him all the way to the canoe she stole.”
Pity lit Dust Moon’s eyes.
Blue Raven handed his clean cup to Silver Sparrow, and got to his feet.
“If you will allow me, I left my bow and quiver behind the boulder. I would like to—”
“Not yet,” Sparrow said. “Before any of us touch our weapons, let’s establish the details of our new alliance. First, if Jumping Badger and his war party appear, I expect you to attack them, not us. If I even think you might do otherwise”—he pointed a finger—“I’ll kill you, Blue Raven.”