People of the Owl(192)
Salamander shook his head in disbelief, thunderstruck by the images that formed within Bird Man’s fiery circle: Scenes of people in huge canoes that crested tremendous ocean waves. Cities of stone and wood. A literal flood of people tending fields where plants grew. Others, warriors bedecked with plumes of colored feathers, marched in thick rows and carried weapons of shining silver metal.
“It is illusion!” Salamander cried.
“A possible future,” Bird Man corrected. “A shining vision of what could be. Provided, of course, that you have the courage and commitment to see it come true. That, or we can fulfill my brother’s vision. You could turn the People into nothing more than scattered bands of Dreamers, lost in the mystical, empty-eyed and wandering the forests, ever tied to the One.”
“I could make that kind of difference?”
Bird Man smiled in a beguiling way. “Somehow, my young friend, it has come down to you. Sun Town, at this time and place, can change the future of the People. Choose one way, and you, and this place, will be remembered forever. Choose another, and you, and the greatness that is Sun Town, will vanish from the People’s memory.”
“I would have to give up the One?”
“It would seem a small sacrifice, Salamander. In return you get to live your life, watch your children grow. You saw yourself in old age, surrounded by your wives and basking in contentment from having served your people. In doing so, new earthworks will rise. Trade will expand from ocean to ocean. In your lifetime you will see cities founded across your world. You will make the Dream live.”
“And if I choose Masked Owl’s way?”
“Mud Stalker and Deep Hunter will destroy the magic of Sun Town. The clans will be at war within a turning of the seasons.” Bird Man flashed his feathered arm in a circle, and Sun Town appeared. Houses were blackened and burned. Wreckage lay scattered about. Among the weeds and seedling trees growing along the ridges lay the rotting bodies of dead people. “Masked Owl didn’t show you that, did he?”
Salamander stared at the half-rotted corpses. “Mud Stalker and Deep Hunter will cause this?”
“Along with the allies they convince to side with them. Despite public appearances, in their hearts they hate each other. They will do anything to place their respective clans in the void left by Wing Heart’s madness. In their rush to rid themselves of you, they will set in motion the seeds of their destruction. Lies will lead to betrayal and murder. Yours first, and then Thunder Tail’s, and Clay Fat’s and Half Thorn’s. They have already forgotten their obligations. Honor will be next. Their actions will split the People down the middle. You and I, however, can prevent this.”
“This is the result of my choice?”
“You must choose the future, Salamander.” He added softly, “Choose well.”
With that, Bird Man spread his arms and leaped into the sunlit sky. His cloaked arms flattened, becoming black wings that shone in the sunlight. With each changing position they blazed in blue, red, orange, and green.
Salamander jerked upright in his bed, stunned. “Many Colored Crow!”
Night Rain cried, “Ouch! You smacked me with your elbow!”
Salamander blinked in the darkness of Pine Drop’s house. A faint glow marked the fire pit. Coals still smoldered among the branches of green wood they had left to smudge the mosquitoes.
“A Dream,” he murmured. “A Dream unlike any other.”
“What are you talking about?” Night Rain repositioned herself, one hand on his shoulder.
“The future, Night Rain. Giant cities like Sun Town up and down the river. Warriors beyond count, marching in lines. Huge canoes that can cross oceans of salt water.”
“You saw this?” she asked.
“That, and war between the clans. Sun Town deserted and burned. Many Colored Crow showed me. He was dressed as Bird Man. He said I could save Sun Town. All I had to do was choose it.”
“You will do this thing, won’t you?” Night Rain’s voice pinched with excitement.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You could be the greatest Speaker ever! You would have Many Colored Crow as a Spirit Helper! No one could stand against you.”
Then Heron’s words echoed in his memory. “Everything comes at a price.”
The day had turned out clear but humid. Sunlight touched the leaves with a green that almost wounded the eyes. Brightly colored birds flitted among the trees. Thick curls of vines bloomed, the colored flowers at odds with the tiny green blossoms on the tupelo.
“I just can’t believe Deep Hunter and Mud Stalker would start a war between the clans! Would they really stoop to murdering their rivals?” Salamander cried as he helped Anhinga bait and drop one of the fish traps into the current. He played out the thin cord that tied it to a wooden float with its identifying owl carved in the weathered wood.