Dogrib elbowed his way through the crowd and shot a measuring glance at Pitch. “We found a dead man. Pitch’s spear was sticking out of his guts. He was wearing this.” He removed an object from his pocket and held it out to Rain Bear.
The chief took it and turned it over in his palm. The glorious fluted spear point shimmered. Evening Star’s quick intake of breath wasn’t lost on either Rain Bear, Dogrib, or Talon.
Rain Bear said, “I need to see the corpse.”
Talon stood up and propped his hands on his hips. “I have heard that all the Wolf Tails wear those points.” He gave Evening Star a distasteful glance. “They are supposedly gifts from the North Wind People.”
Rain Bear nodded. “Yes, and highly unusual ones at that. Do you know what they would do to you or me if we so much as touched one?”
“Kill us quick, I suspect.”
A man could Trade one of those pendants for a cycle’s supply of food. If the pendant’s Spirit was properly cared for, it was supposed to bring Dreams of the future.
Dogrib knelt beside Pitch and gave him an approving look. “Excellent cast. Your spear took him through the chest.”
Pitch blinked, trying to focus. “What about the other? Did I kill him?”
“He’s wounded.” Dogrib shoved white hair behind his ears. “I don’t know how badly. We found a spatter of gut blood.”
“And the others? There had to be others. Someone hit me from behind.”
“We found a third set of tracks. Evidently the man who wounded you. After he cast, he turned and ran.”
“Where’s Dzoo? Is she all right?”
“She’s tracking the wounded man up the trail to War Gods Village.” Dogrib’s eyes glinted when he turned to Rain Bear. “We have to find her. She’s going to need help.”
“Bah!” Talon bellowed. “Pity the poor bastard she’s tracking. You can bet that by this night, his soul is going to be wailing, lost among the forest shadows.”
Rain Bear turned to stare, as though he could see War Gods Village through the layer of clouds that cloaked the mountaintop. “Yes, find her. Tell her that Matron Evening Star and I must speak with her immediately, before the Moon Ceremonial. I need to hear her side of what happened in Antler Spoon’s village.”
“I’ll be back by nightfall.” Dogrib trotted away, motioning to several of the warriors to follow him.
Pitch tried to muster enough strength to think. His senses seemed to be flowing out with his blood. Memories flitted behind his eyes, but nothing he hadn’t already—
He stared hard at Rain Bear. “One of the last things Dzoo said to me was ‘He knows I will be his in the end.’”
“What did she mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I thought she meant that they knew each other, or at least she knew him.”
Rain Bear looked at Talon. “Let’s see this dead man.”
As he rose, Talon caught his arm in a rough grip and hissed. “This is just a distraction. You know that, don’t you? This is Ecan’s work, and he wants our attention focused here, around the camps. Why?”
“Probably because he …”
A low hiss of surprised voices began and built to a frightened roar. Villagers ran in all directions, scattering like a school of fish at a thrown rock.
“What’s happening?” Talon asked as he drew his stiletto with a gnarled fist.
Pitch craned his neck, trying to see as Rain Bear growled, “Speaking of your demon, Talon, here he is.”
Rain Bear stiffened when he saw Ecan. The Starwatcher walked straight down the main trail. He had placed himself in the middle of a group of armed warriors, his white leather cape shining. A head taller than any of his men, Ecan’s dark gaze fixed on Rain Bear, then on Evening Star. An amused smile crossed his lips.
Instinctively, Rain Bear reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Evening Star’s elbow. He could feel the tension rising within her. “You all right?”
She swallowed hard, eyes narrowing. “I’d forgotten how much I hate him.”
“Hallowed gods,” Talon whispered, “I can’t believe he’s this insolent! Does he think he can walk right in here and we will do nothing?”
Rain Bear noticed the little boy holding Ecan’s hand, then surveyed Ecan’s warriors. It was a small party: five and ten men. White Stone led the way, his jaw hardening when his gaze met Rain Bear’s. A long time ago, when Rain Bear had been a lowly warrior in Fire Village, he’d often butted heads with White Stone. The man was a tough and shrewd opponent, but honorable. Or, at least, he had been.
The villagers who’d fled had begun to return in ones and twos, each bearing a weapon, even if it was but a piece of firewood. Their voices built to a hostile din, shouting challenges and accusations.