White Stone wondered when he had ever felt this miserable. “Yes, I understand.” He glanced warily at Dzoo. “We have our own captive, Starwatcher. Never forget that.”
Dzoo laughed—a deep-throated sound, more growl than amusement—and the forest seemed to burst to life as every sleeping warrior lunged to his feet and reached for his weapons.
Ecan turned to glare at her.
When their eyes met, the very air seemed to sizzle and pop.
Dzoo leaned forward and whispered, “In the end, Starwatcher, your soul will howl in darkness.”
Ecan’s expression remained cool, aloof. He just stared at her.
White Stone reached up to finger the polished fluted point that hung at his throat, wondering if even that amulet would protect his soul.
Lost in thoughts, Evening Star walked down the narrow trail, stepping over moss-encrusted deadfall, twisted roots, and occasional stones that protruded from the winding way. Overhead interlocking fir boughs muted the evening light, turning the forest floor into a gloomy dark place that mirrored her wounded soul. Only when faint traces of breeze stirred in the damp darkness did she catch a breath of the moldy duff and loam. The rest of the time, the stench of death rose from her dress, hands, and hair. Each of the corpses she’d carried had leaked fluid onto her.
She had thrown herself into the cleanup like a slave woman. The others had shied from the more horribly mutilated corpses. Those she tackled herself, as if by her diligence she could personally atone for the actions of her people.
The children had been the worst. Why, her soul wailed, do they murder the children?
She couldn’t help but be aware of the mixture of emotions aimed at her by the Raven People: Some barely hid their loathing; others were pensive as they watched her through dark, questioning eyes; and there were those few who nodded, as if it were only appropriate that she deal with the horror of her people’s decisions.
Meanwhile, her guards prowled like silent mountain lions behind and to either side of her. They had become her shadows, following discreetly as she carried the corpses, laid them out, and used a fouled bit of matting to clean their cold dead flesh in preparation for the funerary rites.
What am I doing here? She huddled in the midst of a people who didn’t want her, hated her, in fact.
I should go. Tomorrow, just after sunset. Rain Bear needed all of his people for the coming trial, and she was tying up two of his young warriors each day.
Yes, that was the right decision. Pack her belongings and creep out tomorrow, just after dark. No one would know her destination, or which trail to follow in pursuit. She would have a full night’s travel before she went to ground for the day. By traveling at night, she could make her way far to the south. There among some amiable people, she could find a place for herself. Not as a matron of the North Wind People, but as a simple woman competent at certain tasks. A woman who was willing to work could always find a place. She was still young and strong. She could bear a man enough children in return for a place to sleep.
You would do that? the voice of her soul demanded. Submit yourself to some hunter whose language you can’t even speak? Live like a slave in the dirt?
She took a deep breath, and couldn’t help but gag on the odors rising from the gore clinging to her dress, hands, and hair.
Yes, after the last two moons, after this day, the meaning of life had changed. Illusions no longer burdened her. These days she needed only food, water, shelter, and a semblance of security.
The trail switchbacked down into a narrow cut, choked with willow, raspberries, currants, and chokecherry bushes. There, under an overhang, water dashed into a small pool before burbling down the rock-choked streambed toward the ocean.
Placing her spattered moccasins with care, she descended the last of the slope and stopped short. In the gloom she could see the man crouching on a flat stone that jutted out over the water. At first glance she thought him sick from the hang of his head and the loose drape of his muscular shoulders. Then she caught the spasm that ran through him and instinctively knew it for what it was.
Too late to turn back now, and in a moment her guards would catch sight of him. She reached out and stepped full on a fallen branch, snapping it loudly. Then she hesitated and mimicked a sneeze.
The man’s reaction was instantaneous. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, and in that instant she recognized Rain Bear. For a lightning instant she stared into his swollen eyes before he averted his face, bent down, and cupped up water from the pool, splashing it into his face.
By the time her guards eased down the incline, Rain Bear looked like a man just finishing his ablutions.
“Chief Rain Bear?” she greeted, feigning surprise. “I did not mean to intrude.”