“The Dance?”
“Ah, yes, the Dance.” Masked Owl twirled around, his wings rising in a splendid arc. “To Dance the One. As I am doing now.”
“You are?”
“Indeed.”
“Can I learn your Dance? I’m not as stupid as people think I am. I learned the Circle Dance last winter at solstice when we Danced Mother Sun back into the sky.”
Masked Owl stopped, and those huge black pupils seemed to expand in the yellow eyes behind the mask. They grew, larger and larger, and as they did, Mud Puppy’s soul seemed to shrink.
“Would you like to Dance, Mud Puppy?”
“Very much.”
He felt rather than saw Masked Owl’s smile. “I am glad to hear that.” Then came sadness. “But I can’t teach you yet.”
“You can’t?”
“No.”
Mud Puppy pursed his lips, a terrible grief that he didn’t quite understand lying deep in his breast. Instead he said, “That’s all right.”
Masked Owl’s eyes swelled again, engulfing the world around them. Like pools of darkness, they ebbed and flowed, pulsing with the rhythm of the universe. “You are a good person, Mud Puppy. It pains me to ask, but will you do some things for me before I teach you the Dance?”
“Yes. If I can. But Mother says I’m not very good at doing important things. I heard her tell Uncle Cloud Heron that I can’t even be trusted to carry a cup of water through a rainstorm. You should know that before you ask. And I’m small for my age. Mother says I can’t keep my mind on important things. Most of my friends are working hard to become men. They hunt and fish and learn to be warriors.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I’m not good at those things. I try, but somehow …”
“Yes?”
“I like finding out secrets.”
“Secrets?”
Mud Puppy grinned. “Yes, like why Cricket can make such a loud noise. Or how a caterpillar can become a moth in a cocoon. Have you ever looked into a cocoon after the moth leaves? There aren’t any caterpillar parts left inside. So, where does a moth come from? And, if you cut a caterpillar open, it’s all full of juice. It sure doesn’t have a moth hidden in there anywhere. I know. I used a stick and stirred the gooey stuff to find out.”
Masked Owl’s eyes seemed to shrink, enough that Mud Puppy could see that Masked Owl had thrown his head back. His laughter shook the world and left the clouds trembling. When he stopped, he said, “Mud Puppy, you are a special boy. It has been a long time since I have found such an honest and humble soul.”
Mud Puppy winced, turning his attention back to his hands, picked mostly clean of mud now. All of the worms he’d made had burrowed into the ground. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Yes. Sorry that I’m all those things. You might want to ask my brother. He’s just come back from the north. Everyone is proud of him. If I can’t do what you need, he might be able to.”
Masked Owl was studying him with those terrible eyes. “What if I said I wanted you?”
“I will do my best,” Mud Puppy asserted. “Especially if you will teach me your Dance. Maybe if I do well, and try very hard, I could get a Spirit Helper? Maybe even one that was Powerful like Salamander?” He frowned; then an image of his mother’s face formed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Would Salamander mind if I didn’t tell my mother?”
“Why wouldn’t you tell her?”
“She wouldn’t like it if she found out that Salamander was my Spirit Helper.”
“Why not?”
“She wouldn’t understand.”
Masked Owl chuckled again. “No, I suppose not. And you, you really wouldn’t mind if Salamander was your Spirit Helper?”
“No!” Mud Puppy cried, abashed. “I would be so grateful.”
Masked Owl laughed again. “I shall talk to Salamander. I shall also accept your promise of lending me help. You should know, however, that it will be a terrible trial. What I will ask will take both perseverance and cunning. It will mean that you must stay true to your beliefs and never lose faith in yourself, no matter what other people are saying. If you are not clever and committed, it could cost you your life.”
Mud Puppy swallowed hard; for the first time fear began to squirm around in his gut. It prickled through him, raising beads of sweat from his skin and making his heart pound.
Masked Owl noted this and nodded. “Ah, good, you understand.”
“I will get a Spirit Helper and learn your Dance?”
“If you do not fail me, yes.”
“I …” the words couldn’t quite form in his throat. Do I really want to do this? Can I do it? Will I fail? And what if I do? What if I can’t do what he asks?