“Who do you serve, Keresa?”
“You, and these warriors here.” She gestured toward the huddled men who now used stones to smash the marrow bones of the caribou. They lifted the fragments, sucking out the pink delicacy. “Who do you serve, Kakala?”
His voice was wistful. “I don’t know anymore.”
She stared at her hand, remembering Windwolf’s touch. She had gone to his arms willingly, and for that one blessed moment, her soul had been at peace.
“I’d almost think I was witched. Could that be it?”
“It was that way with Hako and me.” He smiled, remembering.
“I don’t even know him.”
“Oh, yes you do. You just can’t find it in your soul to trust him. He’s fed us one bitter meal after another each time we’ve tried to kill him.” He lowered his head. “And then there’s Walking Seal Village.”
“It haunts him.” As it haunts us. She couldn’t help but shoot a glance toward the back, where Goodeagle sat, his eyes focused on the distance.
Kakala placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s a terrible problem, isn’t it? No matter what we choose, we will condemn ourselves in the end.”
She nodded, glancing back at Goodeagle. That was the price of betraying one’s people. But if I help Kakala kill Windwolf, I will never forgive myself.
Fifty-one
Windwolf leaned forward to warm his hands over the flames. In the slanting afternoon light, the crude lodges thrown up by the Sunpath refugees resembled dark round dots scattered through the forest. Tens of new lodges had appeared overnight. As soon as he’d stepped out of his chamber at dawn, he’d sent a runner to arrange a meeting with the village chief, a man named Sacred Feathers. They had barely begun their discussion when Bear Boy was struck down.
Sacred Feathers sat across the fire from Windwolf next to his grandfather. Sacred Feathers had seen perhaps three tens of summers. His grandfather, Drummer, had seen at least two tens more.
“So you think the boy is a Dreamer?” Drummer asked.
“You saw what he did.” Windwolf studied the old man. “I was beside him; I felt the Power.”
“We couldn’t get close,” Sacred Feathers muttered. “That little girl would have broken our knees with that war club she was swinging around.”
“I have heard the boy’s story.” Windwolf shifted. “I saw his body after the fighting. I thought he was dead. His recovery is as much a miracle as his saving Bear Boy this morning.”
“It is the talk of the camp.”
“The Wolf Bundle speaks to him,” Windwolf added. “Chief Lookingbill gave it to him for safekeeping during the attack. Silvertip belongs to it now.”
“Then perhaps the prophecy is true?” Drummer mused.
“Perhaps. We will see. But for the moment, I need to know what happened at your village. Tell me everything.”
Drummer nodded, thinking for a moment. “I told my grandson people were missing from the surrounding camps. He wouldn’t believe me.”
His face had a skeletal appearance. Every bone stuck out through the thin layer of skin, which made his deeply set brown eyes look cavernous. Two long gray braids fell over the front of his worn tigerhide cape. He shook a fist at Windwolf. “Old Woman Rust never missed the meetings we held every full moon to worship Wolf Dreamer. First she disappeared, then Coal Lion vanished. I knew something was happening.”
“They were old and from nearby camps,” Sacred Feathers pointed out. “I thought maybe they’d gotten sick or hurt, or just couldn’t make the walk any longer.”
Windwolf said, “What happened to them?”
Sacred Feathers waved a hand in a helpless gesture. “We found out that just before Deputy Karigi attacked their villages, he sent warriors in to kidnap a few of the Elders.”
Sacred Feathers had a birdlike face with closely set eyes and shoulder-length black hair. “He used them as hostages. He told people to put down their weapons or the Elders would be killed. Many people did.” Sacred Feathers’ head fell forward. He stared blindly at the fire. “Then he killed everyone.”
A cold breeze blew through the spruce trees, fluttering the lodge door curtains, and carrying the aroma of roasting grouse.
Drummer glared at his grandson. “They did the same thing to us.”
Sacred Feathers crossed his arms over his yellow-painted cape. “I thought if we just did as Karigi said, we’d be all right. For many summers, I’ve been telling my people that the Nightland clan Elders are not monsters. They’re human beings, just like us. I hoped that if we treated them with dignity, they would leave us alone.”