In a tight voice, he said, “Kakala, you told me you wouldn’t hurt her.”
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers as she looked up at him through stark horror, pain, and fear.
“Goodeagle?” Bramble called, as though he were suddenly the only thing she had to hold onto. The instant that she figured it out registered as a change in her eyes—a single frozen heartbeat of time. Her fear turned to hatred.
He backed up until he hit the wall. Why hadn’t he realized Karigi would do something like this?
Through tear-blurred eyes, he saw Kakala’s jaw harden.
“Deputy Karigi?” Kakala asked in a weirdly calm voice Goodeagle had never heard. “Why is she still here?”
Goodeagle remembered only Karigi’s insolent smile. The words buried in the hatred that seemed to shoot from Bramble’s eyes.
Kakala’s barked order had penetrated Bramble’s spell. “Tell your warriors to get out.”
Karigi blinked. “What? Why?”
“Do it!”
Karigi took a step back, ordering, “Terengi, take your men and bring me Windwolf’s head.”
Glancing at each other, they filed out, striding past Goodeagle as if he didn’t exist. He remembered Kakala, still and quiet. Karigi fidgeting, shooting nervous glances at Bramble.
“War Chief, I intended—”
The rest had been lost as Kakala drove a hard fist into Karigi’s stomach. Goodeagle had watched in disbelief as Kakala kneed the man, lifting him clear of the floor. Karigi had dropped to his knees, his war dart flying.
As Kakala vented his wrath, Goodeagle had watched the dart, seen Bramble’s desperate gaze fix on it.
As though his eyes were disembodied, he’d stared at the dart, vaguely aware of Kakala and Karigi ramming together, their screams of rage disjointed and unreal as they kicked, slugged, and abused each other.
Goodeagle’s remote eyes followed Bramble as she edged a foot toward the dropped dart, toes questing for the shaft.
“She has a weapon!” Karigi’s shout echoed in Goodeagle’s soul. Yes, use it Bramble! Kill him. Kill me!
A shout came from outside; Keresa knocked him sideways as she hurried to stare out the doorway.
Bramble screamed.
Goodeagle’s heart seemed to stop.
When he looked back, Karigi’s dart was sticking out of Bramble’s chest.
Goodeagle stumbled back against the wall, watching Kakala and Keresa race by, leaving him alone. For the last time, he looked at Bramble.
“I didn’t know he’d do this, Bramble. I swear.”
Faintly, almost inaudibly, he heard a voice plead, “Goodeagle?”
He took a fumbling step toward her—then blindly turned and ran.
Running. Running. I’m still running.
He jerked bolt upright, panting.
“Just a … a dream,” he whispered.
Shuddering as though from deadly cold, he folded his arms tightly over his aching stomach. Breath rushed in and out of his lungs in huge desperate gulps.
From the darkness, Washani said, “Yes, just a dream this time. But Windwolf is going to come for you.”
Goodeagle tipped his head back against the cold stone wall, and breathed, “ … I know.”
Ashes looked up at the black ceiling, pretending to be asleep. Silvertip’s cries had wakened her many times last night, but this time his soft whimpers twisted oddly in her belly.
She’d been in the middle of a Dream. The last image still lingered in her soul: She’d been crawling through a black tunnel on her hands and knees. She could hear the people in line behind her whimpering in fear. Silvertip had reached back and grasped her hand, holding it so tightly it ached.
“Ashes,” he’d whispered, “I can’t find the way, and I—I’m afraid. What should I do?”
“The Wolf Bundle,” she’d whispered. “Ask Wolf Dreamer. He knows the way.”
When Silvertip didn’t respond, she’d reached forward and found his face. Tears dampened his cheeks.
“I’m gone,” Silvertip whispered, barely audible, so no one else would hear. “Even the bones have been picked clean. I don’t know what I’ve done … .”
And then Silvertip’s cries had wakened her and she’d found herself staring at the ceiling. The sharp damp scent of the deep tunnel still clung in her nose.
Most of the night she’d Dreamed about her mother, wondering where Skimmer was, and if she would ever see her again. Loneliness made her feel like she had to throw up.
She slid a hand down to rub her belly, and stared at Silvertip. Even the Healer wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead.
They had placed the Wolf Bundle atop his chest. His body now twitched, as though his soul were walking through a horrifying land.