People of the Nightland(30)

Lookingbill walked out after him.

Windwolf stood at the opening for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the village. Many voices carried on the night; most were light and happy. One woman laughed. How long had it been since he had heard such carefree sounds?

Lookingbill turned back. “Is everything all right?” His deeply wrinkled face had turned somber.

“I was only remembering what peace sounded like.”

War Chief Fish Hawk and his warriors formed a crescent around the shelter entrance, dark forms in the gleaming moonlight.

Windwolf looked beyond them, to the shadows, and a shiver played along his spine.

Lookingbill noticed. “Don’t tell me you feel it too?”

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned out at the night. “It’s a—a darkness that watches … listens.” He frowned. “Something is wrong here.”

Shadows played over the trees at the base of the boulders. Windwolf caught movement. A hint of buckskin where there should have been only black tree trunks. He reached down and nocked a dart in his atlatl. Very quietly, he said, “War Chief Fish Hawk, we are about to be attacked. Chief Lookingbill, do whatever it takes to protect yourself.”

Lookingbill’s eyes widened, and he swung around to peer at the trees.

“Someone’s out there? Are you sure?” Fish Hawk asked uncertainly.

Lookingbill sternly added, “Whatever you do, War Chief, ensure that Windwolf is safe! I want it made perfectly clear that—”

Windwolf lifted his atlatl to cast. “Lookingbill, run! Now!”

War cries split the night as warriors burst from the darkness. Windwolf knew that dark form: Kakala! The big man ran out front, his muscular legs pumping.

Windwolf whipped his arm back, cast at the elusive shadow, and saw Kakala stumble. A hit? His heart soared. Before he could determine Lookingbill jumped in front of him and shouted, “Go to the ceremonial cave! Tell my daughter Dipper to take you to the Deep Cave. She’ll know—”

A dart drove half its length through the old man’s shoulder. Lookingbill staggered at the impact. He gave Windwolf a terrified glance and shouted, “Save yourselves!”

Fish Hawk’s warriors cast at the charging forms.

Windwolf hesitated only long enough to snap the dart in two and shove Lookingbill into the hole behind him. “Stay there!” He turned. “Fish Hawk! The rest of you! Stop standing like stupid ground sloths! Fall back to the rocks! Take defensive positions! Move!”

A voice from the village cried, “We are attacked!”

As Fish Hawk’s warriors sprinted up the trail, Windwolf nocked his atlatl and drove a dart through a charging warrior. He could hear shouts, whoops, and screams from the slopes below Headswift Village.

Through instinct, Windwolf ducked a whistling dart. Then he turned and ran, pounding along behind Fish Hawk’s dark figure.

Kakala! Where is Kakala?





Eleven

The insane night attack had broken up almost as quickly as it began. Once the Headswift villagers had retreated to their rocky warrens, the prowling Nightland warriors had backed off, lurking in the shadows, calling insults.

Windwolf had stopped Fish Hawk’s warriors when they reached a narrow rocky defile. With their few remaining darts, they had discouraged any further pursuit by Kakala’s raiders. Now they waited, hidden in the shadows of the rocks, ready to ambush any incursion by Nightland warriors.

Fish Hawk shot a look at Windwolf. “You saved our lives back there, War Chief.”

“I just hope Lookingbill is all right.”

“You saw the wound. Was it mortal?”

“Only if it becomes infected. The dart was high in the shoulder. Someone is going to have to get him out of that hole. And soon.”

Windwolf took a deep breath, leaning out to inspect the moon-bathed trails. If he ran, it wouldn’t take but a—

Fish Hawk clamped a hand on his arm. “I know what you’re thinking, but no. You have done enough this night. I don’t know what happened in that Council you just had, but my chief gave orders.You are to be kept safe.”

“Fish Hawk, had I not been here, none of this might have happened.”

The war chief shrugged. “Perhaps not tonight, but eventually.” He gave Windwolf a sad grin. “We are allies now. What damage is done, is done. In the meantime, you will serve my people better by living than dying in an attempt to save my chief.” He raised his voice. “Dipper! My chief has ordered that this man be taken to a place where the stinking Nightland cannot find him. Take him to the Deep Cave.”

Seeing the insistence in Fish Hawk’s eyes, Windwolf surrendered, and followed his guides through a hole down into the rocks.