“But the Dreamer?” one old man cried. “He’s here!”
“And when he’s ready to address you, he will!”
They wavered, watching him expectantly.
He pulled his war club, waving it. “I said, go!”
As if herding ground sloths, he bullied them off the steep trail, balking only at the few who cowered before him, willing to take a blow rather than leave their precious Dreamer.
“Wolf Dreamer bless you,” one of the guards at the top said. “We’ve been hard-pressed to keep them back.”
Windwolf rubbed his face. “How can you blame them? They’ve lost everything, and now, suddenly, they have hope.”
He ducked inside to find a fire, the pungent odor of spruce smoke thick in the air. He walked back, nodding to Lookingbill. The chief still looked confused.
Gods, aren’t we all?
Ashes sat, her war club on her lap, one hand holding Silvertip’s. She nodded severely as he walked up. When he looked into her eyes, it wasn’t to find a girl. Her captivity, the terrible events in the pen, and the subsequent flight had burned childhood away.
“Windwolf, thank you for coming.” Silvertip was seated, his back to a roll of hides.
When Windwolf looked into the boy’s eyes, it was to receive a second shock. Something glowed behind that young face, as if the Power were flowing freely through his body.
“I have been talking with some of the refugees. Karigi has a larger force than I thought. We may not have as much time as I had hoped.”
“No, we do not,” Silvertip replied. “Our people must leave by the quarter moon.”
Windwolf settled himself wearily, sighing with relief at the soft hides. “You saved that boy’s life this morning.”
Silvertip frowned. “I didn’t know it would be so draining.”
“Ashes told me most of the story. Your Vision about the ice, is it true?”
Silvertip nodded, then glanced at Windwolf. “That you accept Power so easily is unusual.” He smiled. “No questions?”
“Hundreds of them. If we survive this, I’ll have time to ask each and every one.” He paused. “When will you order the people to head west?”
Silvertip’s eyes seemed to lose focus. “Soon.”
“Then this really is the end of our world?”
“As we know it. Raven Hunter waited, let us fall into the Dream. Now it is his time.”
“So he has won?”
Silvertip reached out, touching the back of Windwolf’s hand. His skin seemed to crackle like rubbed fox fur. “You don’t understand Power, War Chief. Is day more Powerful than night? Will winter destroy summer? They are equal but opposite, order and chaos, harmony and creativity; they ebb and flow, ultimately opposed, and forever invincible.”
“Then, how do we choose?”
“Balance,” he said, reaching out with his other hand to take Ashes’. He looked at Windwolf. “You know the answer, War Chief.You—of all people—have finally found the balance.You are a creature of compromise. Most of all, you dislike extremes. Karigi, you would kill. Kakala, you would save.”
He looked up. “Save, how?”
“That is for the Wind to blow.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are Water, War Chief.”
“Water?”
“Without you, there can be no life; all would be drought and death. And, as you will see, unleashed, there is only flood. Balance is so elusive, and so important.”
“And Kakala?”
“He is the Fire.”
Windwolf took a deep breath. “Of course.” He frowned.
“Yes?” Silvertip prompted.
“It’s easier when I don’t have to look at you. I am unsettled to hear wisdom granted to so few Elders from a mouth so young.”
“Opposites crossed, War Chief. As you know so deeply in your soul. Male and female, enemies to lovers … Raven Hunter and Wolf Dreamer.”
“Fire and Water.”
“You have plans to pursue, War Chief.You may go.”
As Windwolf stood, Silvertip added, “I must warn you, nothing comes without a price. What will you pay?”
He swallowed hard. “Haven’t I already given enough?”
Fifty-three
Keresa drew her buckskin cape more tightly around her shoulders and paced Windwolf’s chamber. Three guards stood outside the entry. She could hear them talking quietly. In the distance, the happy squeals of playing children rose.
Her soul might have been in turmoil after her visit to the boy Dreamer, but her wits hadn’t deserted her. She heard plenty, about parties headed west, the Tills, and preparations to leave Headswift Village. Rumors were already passing that the Dreamer would order it.