People of the Nightland(68)

Keresa shot a hard look into Nashat’s eyes. “The Guide asked us to help him remove Kakala from the cage.” In a more serious tone, she added, “We always follow the Guide’s orders without question. He said Kakala had to obtain the woman Skimmer.”

“Yes, yes,” Ti-Bish said, stepping up just behind Keresa’s shoulder.

Giving Ti-Bish a withering glare, Nashat said, “Perhaps we should step outside, Guide. I would hear your reasons in a place where no idle stories could be mistakenly carried from this place.”

Keresa’s voice dropped. “The Guide has already given us his orders. They are clear, Councilor.”

She met Nashat’s hot stare, fully aware of Khepa’s amazement. Come on. Put your foot fully into the trap, Nashat!

Instead, he gave her a crafty smile. “Of course, it shall be as the Guide wishes.”

As he spoke, Satah and Ta’Hona stepped in.

“Good,” Keresa said. “Then, as the Guide ordered, Kakala, as head war chief, will take all of his warriors south in the pursuit of Windwolf and the woman Skimmer.” She turned, facing Ti-Bish. “We thank you, Guide. And wish you to know that we will pursue your goals with all of our soul and being. Upon my honor, we shall not return until Windwolf is dead and the woman Skimmer has been safely delivered to your care.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Deputy.” But Ti-Bish kept shooting frightened glances in Nashat’s direction.

Keresa stepped close, voice a whisper. “Nashat serves you! If you need us, call.”

Ti-Bish blinked, an odd relief in his expression. “Thank you, Deputy.”

Keresa avoided the frothing anger stewing behind Nashat’s hard face as she motioned to her warriors. “Come on, on your feet. Two of you, help Kakala. I need the rest of you to fan out. Find our people, collect packs, see to your weapons. I want us on the trail within two hands of time.”

“And this time,” Nashat added through gritted teeth, “you will teach the Lame Bull a lesson. And bring back Windwolf’s head!”

Keresa gave him a slight bow. “And Skimmer, Councilor. Lest you forget.”

Nashat’s lips were twitching, a terrible promise burning within.

Keresa gave him a faint nod. Don’t even think it, Nashat. I’ll rip your throat out before you lay a finger on me.

She gave Ti-Bish a grateful smile. “Bless your wisdom, Guide.”

Then she led her warriors from the room, wobbly Kakala supported between Bishka and Rana.

In the cold tunnel, Kakala asked, “What just happened back there?”

“I placed us between the lion and the bear, War Chief. But at least you’ll face them standing up instead of doubled over.”





In the middle of the night, Silvertip awakened suddenly. The rocky chamber was dimly lit, the coals little more than gleaming eyes in the hearth. He snuggled under his bear hide and felt Ashes’ eyes upon him.

Cold seemed to creep from every part of the chamber, twining out of the rock to stroke his warm body. He shivered and pulled his hide up, leaving only his eyes showing. His breath came back warm.

The Wolf Bundle rested beside him. He kept glancing at it. He hadn’t heard any voices since Grandfather put it in his hands, but his Dreams had been so vivid, a great black wolf telling him things that had splintered and slipped away as he awakened. Then he remembered: It was something terrible, about blood, and water, and crashing ice.

The wolf’s voice came back with frightening certainty: “You must die before you find the path!”

He nervously crushed the hide with his fingers. The girl was still looking at him.

To his surprise, she shoved her hides off, put on her cape, and walked across the chamber.

Silvertip watched as she knelt beside him. Her beaverhide cape, with the hair turned in for warmth, had been painted blue with white stars. It was pretty. She was pretty, too. She had long black hair and an oval face with large black eyes. Her nose was small and narrow.

She leaned over him and whispered, “Did you really hear Wolf Dreamer’s voice in that Spirit bundle?”

Silvertip nodded and stared up at her.

Ashes’ eyes narrowed, as though she was thinking about it. “My mother says Wolf Dreamer is dead.”

“Of course he’s dead. He’s a Spirit.”

“Then how could you hear his voice? Are you a Dreamer?”

“I don’t know.” Silvertip propped himself up on his elbows and cocked his head. “The Wolf Bundle is like a trail. You can follow it to go visit Wolf Dreamer in his Spirit Lodge.”

“In the skyworlds?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I guess so. But Grandfather told me that sometimes the trail also leads to the past or the future.”