“War Chief Windwolf?” he asked the form huddled back in the shadows.
“Lookingbill?” Windwolf straightened. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with hard eyes. His black hair had been cut short in mourning. Two winters, and he still hadn’t healed from Bramble’s death? Though his darts and an atlatl stood against the wall by his side, he had a knife and war club tied to his belt.
“I am glad that you have come,” Lookingbill said. “Given the promise of safety made by the Nightland, I wasn’t sure that you would.”
“I am ready to grasp at the faintest thread.” But he made no effort to step away from his atlatl and war darts.
Lookingbill hobbled toward the lamp and slumped to the floor. Even this trace of warmth was welcome.
Windwolf studied him for a moment, then asked, “Why did you ask to meet with me?”
Lookingbill gestured to the floor on the opposite side of the lamp. “Come, sit. Let us talk as friends.”
Windwolf hesitated, glanced at the mouth of the rockshelter, then picked up his darts and atlatl. He walked around to kneel just to the left of the entrance. He rested a long dart across his knees. “The Lame Bull People have rarely been our friends.”
“Perhaps it’s time that changed.”
“A great many lives would have been saved if it had changed two summers ago.”
Lookingbill nodded. “Oh, yes, War Chief. My people, however—like yours in the beginning—prefer to delude themselves.”
Windwolf glanced out the entrance at the positions of the warriors, then turned back. “I’m listening.”
Lookingbill exhaled. “Do you know much about Ti-Bish?”
“Some. Not much.”
“Apparently he is very charismatic. Many of my own people have been fooled by him.”
“Among my people, also.”
“There are witnesses who claim that an evil Spirit appeared beside his cradleboard the day he was born. It wrapped Ti-Bish in a white mammoth hide and fed him lightning bolts.”
Windwolf’s face showed no emotion. “Dreamers arise constantly, Chief, like wolves among mice. He’s no different.”
“People say he is.”
Windwolf didn’t respond.
Lookingbill smiled faintly. “Are you aware that many women from Foxfire’s line have been killed recently? Most have died under suspicious circumstances. No one claims the responsibility.”
Windwolf’s brows drew down over his pointed nose. “Foxfire? Wolf Dreamer’s half brother? The son of Ice Fire and Dancing Fox?”
“Yes.” Lookingbill’s gaze fixed on the lamp’s tiny flame. As Wind Woman sneaked into the rockshelter and sniffed around the walls, it fluttered, on the verge of going out.
Windwolf said, “Why is that important?”
“Because prophecies tell us that in the last days, just before the destruction of the world, a new Dreamer will be born. He will lead his people to safety … and he will come from the Foxfire clan.”
Silence filled the chamber.
When Lookingbill said no more, Windwolf asked, “How many women from Foxfire’s line are left?”
“My daughters, Dipper and Mossy, and a cousin, Loon Spot; but she’s too old to bear children. She would be no threat to Ti-Bish.”
“Do you think he’s deliberately trying to kill off your family? To make sure the prophecies are never fulfilled?”
Lookingbill stared out into the night. He felt it again, that looming presence, as though the darkness itself had ears. “It’s possible. Ti-Bish is a curious character. He claims that Raven Hunter came to him and gave him a Vision.”
“You tell me old news. That’s when he began preaching that Wolf Dreamer was wicked and Raven Hunter was good. He says the two are locked in a constant battle over the fate of our world.”
“He also believes that anyone who worships Wolf Dreamer is evil. That’s why he has targeted your Sunpath People.”
Windwolf’s bushy black brows drew together. He stared at the sputtering oil lamp for several heartbeats before asking, “Both the Southwind and Lame Bull People worship Wolf Dreamer.You and I know it’s more than that. The Nightland People are using the Prophet’s religion as an excuse to take our lands. It’s only recently that Ti-Bish has gained any followers.” He paused. “Even his own people called him the Idiot.”
“But all that changed two summers ago when Nashat found him.”
“Yes.” Windwolf exhaled the word. “Nashat plucked Ti-Bish from the forests, cleaned him up, and started announcing the arrival of the Blessed Guide promised in the Old Stories.”
“Selling him?”