Rides-the-Wind led Tsauz down through the trees to watch. He cocked his head, curious as to how the people would respond. He could sense it: Tonight was a turning point, one way or another.
Coyote! The name was whispered from lip to lip. Rides-the-Wind studied the somber faces in the crowd. People’s eyes glittered with fear, excitement, and worry. He could hear their anxious voices as they bent their heads and asked, “How did he get past the guards?”
He smiled, his hands on Tsauz’s shoulders. As if guards were any hindrance to a man of his Power.
How curious, though, that he had come for the boy on this night, of all nights. A turning point. Yes. Rides-the-Wind leaned his head back and sniffed the cool night air. The earthy fragrance of the coming storm mixed with the odor of burning pitch torches. Power laced the air. Coyote knew it. He knew it. Did the tense boy under his grip know it as well? Those blank eyes might have been wells in the boy’s soul.
“Coyote came with a message for Matron Evening Star!” Rides-the-Wind heard someone whisper. That, too, was slipping from lip to lip like an eel in the kelp.
A tense silence fell as Rain Bear and Evening Star stepped into the circle of firelight. The great chief took a moment, nodded to Talon, Goldenrod, Bluegrass, and the rest of the elders and chiefs.
It was Evening Star, however, who stepped forward, her expression serious. Every, face—some reflecting hate—turned toward her. The story had circulated that she was working to betray them.
Even from where he stood, Rides-the-Wind could see her body was rigid with tension. He wondered if it was from the strain of her assault, or fear of what she was about to say.
Someone shouted, “Is it true she betrayed us to the Four Old Women of the Council?”
“Is she working with Coyote?” another demanded.
A cacophony of voices rose, shouting accusations, calling her names.
Rain Bear bellowed, “Quiet! You must hear what has occurred!”
The din subsided, and Evening Star stated, “Last night, a messenger came here from Fire Village. The rumors are correct. He did bring me an offer from the matron of the North Wind People. Astcat said she would revoke my slave status in exchange for cooperation.”
“Go home!” a woman shouted, and waved a fist. “We don’t want you here!”
Mutters of assent eddied through the crowd, and expressions turned grim.
Bluegrass cried, “Cooperation? What does that mean? What does she wish you to do?”
Evening Star stood tall and still. “Astcat wants me to convince you to leave these lands. She wants you to travel in small parties, and promises that if you do, she will guarantee you safe passage through the lands of the North Wind People.”
A confused babble filled the forest; then an old man stepped forward. “This is my home! My father and mother are buried here, as are two of my children! I’m not leaving!”
Another person yelled, “My ancestors died here. My clan has been here since the beginning. I won’t leave!”
Yet another reached down and raised a handful of the damp soil. “Raven gave this ground to us! If Matron Astcat wants to fight Raven, let her!”
“What’s Astcat trying to do?” War Chief Talon whispered. “Get rid of the Raven People so the North Wind People can have all the hunting and fishing grounds?”
Dogrib replied, “Surely she’s not that foolish.”
Tsauz lowered his head to peer sightlessly at the ground.
A tall burly man shoved through the crowd to glare at Evening Star. “I heard that Coyote offered you even more. Will you return to Fire Village as matron?”
“Matron?” someone whispered into the sudden silence.
Evening Star clenched her fists at her sides. “This is what I told Astcat: I would return to Fire Village if, and only if, she disbanded the Council and turned their Starwatcher over to Rain Bear!”
From the darkness beyond the fire, a voice called, “Then you’d all better start running now, because Ecan is coming to kill you!”
Howls of rage broke out, the crowd surging back and forth. Fists were raised, and the cacophony of shouted threats became a roar.
“Are you all right?” Rides-the-Wind bent down to whisper into Tsauz’s ear.
“They hate my father.”
“We are all filled with passion, Tsauz. Each of us is the master of it, for good or ill. How will you use your passion? For hate, like this? Or to make yourself and your world better?”
Dogrib’s eyes narrowed, and he motioned some of his warriors forward in a thin line between Evening Star and the crowd. A slow drizzle had begun.
Tsauz stood rigid, his blind eyes wide and still, digesting all that he heard. Then he lifted his chin. It was a royal gesture, like that of a young ruler about to make a decree. “Elder?”