Tsauz clutched the cup in both hands as he carefully felt his way forward. “Rides-the-Wind, look!”
“Well,” the old man said. “I’m surprised to see the two of you alive.”
Tsauz halted in front of Rides-the-Wind, breathing hard. “Why?”
“Because I heard Thunderbird. Didn’t you realize he was hunting that same cloud? You must have killed it right under his nose to make him that angry.”
Huge raindrops splatted on the elder’s gray hair and beaded on his hawklike nose as a sense of wonder filled Pitch. He studied the whip-thin boy again. Power was threading around them, light and pulsing, echoing from the falling rain, the winter grass, and the slumbering firs.
Gods! Just who was Tsauz, anyway? What kind of Power lay at his beck and call? Pitch was aware of Rides-the-Wind’s knowing gaze.
Tsauz chirped, “But we lived! And we got it!” He held out the cup. “Look!”
The Soul Keeper took the cup and peered into it. Rain stippled the surface. “Yes, you did get him, didn’t you? Did you see the thousands of tiny rainbows in the water?”
“Yes! … Well, no, but Pitch told me about the colors.”
“These aren’t just colors. Come here, look.”
Tsauz felt his way forward with his moccasins, and Rides-the-Wind put the cup in his hands again.
“Do you see them?”
Tsauz blinked. After a few moments, he said, “I see … waves. Black waves. Like looking at a lake at night.”
Rides-the-Wind stared curiously at Tsauz. “Are the waves shiny, or murky?”
“Shiny.”
“Do they have a voice?”
Pitch flipped up his hood and shifted uneasily. A voice?
Tsauz listened to the cup. “I don’t hear anything, Elder.”
Pitch added softly, “Elder, you should know that Tsauz heard Thunderbird’s voice. Right after Thunderbird blasted the tree, he said the raindrops in the forest had a rhythm to them, like words.”
Tsauz nodded. “Yes, I thought they were words, but I couldn’t make them out. I guess it could have just been the rain.”
“It wasn’t the rain,” Pitch reminded. “You almost heard words.”
Rides-the-Wind shoved to his feet with a soft, pained grunt. “Well, let’s see what Tsauz hears after he’s had a sip of Cloud People blood.”
Tsauz’s head jerked up. “I have to drink Cloud People blood?”
“That’s why we went to the trouble to kill a Cloud Person. Tonight, if you succeed in climbing the Ladder to the Sky, you will fly to the Above Worlds. Dead people do it all the time, of course, but to do it while alive, a human needs to have the blood of the Cloud People inside him.” He put a hand on Tsauz’s shoulder. “First, you must be properly prepared.”
Tsauz stood rigid, his eyes wide.
Rides-the-Wind took Tsauz’s hand, guiding him down the trail. Over his shoulder, he called, “Pitch? Would you be so kind as to see if you could find my rock?”
“I’d be honored, Elder.”
Evening Star listened to the patter of rain on her roof. She had retired to her lodge after sharing Rain Bear’s breakfast. He had gone off to another of his endless council sessions as he tried to hammer out an alliance with the other villages and clans.
Now she lay in the darkness, reviewing the words he had spoken. In truth, it wasn’t her fault that her village had been taken and her family killed.
It’s not your fault. And yes, Rain Bear was correct: Both her husband and mother would have been saddened by her behavior.
“So what are you going to do about it?” she asked herself softly. Her fire had burned down to a bed of red glowing coals; in the gloom she was left alone with herself. She heard the wood and bark of her lodge creak, as if a weight had been placed upon it. Her gaze silently lifted to her sagging roof. The storm had soaked the wood. It might be rain dripping from the trees onto the lodge, or onto the ground.
She sighed, tossing onto her back to stare up at the darkness. Placing a hand to her pelvis, she realized she was cycling. With the death of her daughter and with her captivity, her milk had dried up. It was known that women missed when they were under stress of starvation, hard work, or abuse.
Having passed her moon her loins were coming alive again, and her thoughts took her straight to Rain Bear. She smiled wryly into the darkness. Life had a way of making up for death, didn’t it? Here she was, safe, fed, protected, and in the presence of a man who filled her idle moments with fantasy. She watched him, and kept those moments for later so she could recall the way he moved, how he smiled. She liked little things about him: the way he held his shoulders, the lines at the corners of his eyes. That longing in his eyes touched her in particular.