As Keresa turned, caught sight of a pursuing warrior, and cast a dart in his direction, Kakala demanded, “Who are you?”
“I am Dipper! Daughter of Chief Lookingbill!”
Keresa caught a glimpse as Kakala’s face slackened and a gleam entered his eyes. “It must have been your miserable sister I killed a few days ago. You don’t wish to be next, do you?”
The tears in Dipper’s eyes vanished. She gave Kakala a fierce look, but her voice shook when she said, “My son! You’ve killed my son!”
Kakala bellowed, “I want a woman named Skimmer, and I want Windwolf. I have heard they are both in your village. Is it true?”
“My boy, you’ve killed—”
Kakala slapped her hard across the mouth. “Answer me!”
Her split lips bled. She wiped her mouth on her blue-painted sleeve, and she looked up, eyes burning hate. “I’m not telling you anything.”
Two darts hissed by to clatter on the rocks.
“Kakala!” Keresa shouted. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
He looked wildly around, shouting, “Quickly! Into those caves.”
Keresa hesitated as the warriors charged past. On impulse, she reached down, grabbing the boy she’d clubbed. Dipper’s son? He could be of value to us. They won’t know he’s dead.
Thirty-two
Keresa’s shout—“Kakala! Look out!”—was his only warning. Windwolf dropped from a rock, feet impacting with a thud. Kakala spun, shoving the woman, Dipper, away. As she sprawled on the ground, Kakala tried to pull his dart back, only to lock eyes with Windwolf as the man recovered his balance, braced himself, and swung with a stone-headed ax. At the last instant Kakala threw himself backward, the deadly blow glancing across his temple.
Lightning flashed as his head snapped sideways.
“Dart him! Degan!” Keresa’s shout seemed distant, as though heard from the bottom of a pond.
Kakala stumbled, careening forward, before he toppled face-first to the ground. In his wavering vision he glimpsed Dipper pulling her son off to the side. Windwolf was trading blows with Pega, their war clubs swinging.
The hills came alive. The Sunpath People ran from their hiding places carrying branches, throwing rocks, using sharpened sticks as stilettos. At the same time, the Lame Bull villagers flooded out of their rockshelters with weapons.
As though from a great distance, he heard Keresa shout, “Into those holes, hurry!” Then he felt her strong arm slide beneath his shoulders, and drag him to his feet. “Kakala? Kakala, hold onto me! We have to get out of here!”
His knees buckled beneath him.
Keresa dragged him; then other arms lifted his spinning body. He remembered rubbing against stone, then sagging heavily.
More and more warriors scrambled through the opening behind Keresa, bodies blocking the light. Each time it was as if someone drove a wedge through his numb head. And then he was falling in an endless spiral, the world turning gray.
He barely felt his gut heave, vomit spewing. His body was so distant, airy, floating …
And then the grayness faded to black.
Keresa had watched Windwolf strike Kakala down. Before he could strike again, Pega had charged forward, swinging a club. As Keresa tended to Kakala, she had glimpses of Windwolf and Pega trading blows, the clack of wood loud. Seeing Washani and Klah bear Kakala safely into the rock, she grabbed for her atlatl and one of the scattered darts where she’d dropped them. The boy’s mother was tugging frantically at the boy’s arm. No time for that now.
Keresa nocked a dart just as Windwolf struck Pega down. Her arm whipped back. From this distance, she couldn’t miss. Their eyes met—an instant of mutual understanding.
I am going to kill you now.
His slight smile was as eloquent as if he’d shouted, No, you’re not!
She threw her weight behind the cast. The dart flashed forward, the shaft flexing. Windwolf twisted to the side, her stone-tipped dart cutting through his war shirt, vanishing harmlessly behind him.
Corre and Degan rushed up, arms back, but even as they launched their darts Windwolf threw himself behind the rocks.
The hissing of a dart brought her back to the moment. Keresa heard its impact: a muffled slap as it drove itself into Corre’s chest. He wavered on his feet, took a step back, and sank to the ground, staring in disbelief at the shaft quivering in his breastbone.
“Keresa!” Degan shouted. “Into the hole! Now!”
She looked for the dead boy, seeing drag marks.
No, he’s no good to us now. She spun on her heel, a dart slicing through her cloak, and ducked into the rock as a volley of darts shattered on the stone behind her. Inside, back pressed to the wall, she panted, struggling for breath. Kakala lay on the gravel like a lump, blood running down the side of his head.