She sounded like she meant it, but Father’s words whispered in his head: Any of them would love to harm you, and … and I couldn’t stand that.
Tsauz tucked his face beneath the hide and stared at the darkness where Runner rested. He wished so hard he could make him come alive again.
“Cousin, no matter what, you must promise me that you will not try to run away. Rain Bear’s oath is the only thing standing between you and death. Do you understand?”
He swallowed hard. “I promise I won’t try to run away.”
“Thank you, Tsauz.” Evening Star rose and left the lodge.
She spoke with Rain Bear; then an old man coughed, and his steps crunched on gravel. The elder walked slowly, as though each step hurt. Breath wheezed in and out of his lungs. He stopped near Rain Bear’s lodge and coughed again. Was there another lodge nearby? The old man’s lodge?
Tsauz’s paternal granduncle had lived in the lodge right next to theirs in Fire Village. Tsauz had seen him every day until he died six moons ago. Father had gotten up one morning and gone to check on Granduncle and found him dead in his hides. He hadn’t suffered. He hadn’t even been sick. Father said the gods must have loved Granduncle very much to be so kind.
Tsauz petted Runner’s cold ears. Every time he breathed, it felt as though he had broken wings beating a hole inside him.
“I’m all right, Runner,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me.”
The old man said, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
Tsauz went quiet.
“I said, it hurts, doesn’t it?” He had a rough voice that sounded familiar.
Tsauz whispered, “What?”
“That hole inside you.”
Tsauz lay still.
“It’s supposed to hurt. Don’t fear it. That’s the gateway, Tsauz. If you take just a few more steps through the darkness, you’ll pass into a bright warm place.”
Tsauz twisted to look in the direction of the door. “How do you know my name?”
“Someday everyone will know it. I’m just a little ahead of them, that’s all.”
Leather rustled, like a door hanging being thrown back. When the old man coughed again, it sounded muted. He must have gone inside.
“What’s your name?” Tsauz asked.
“Go to sleep, boy. I need rest as much as you do. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Tsauz held on to Runner’s right foot, warming it with his hand, and watched as crimson threads of light played behind his eyelids.
They’re going to kill me. Just like they killed you, Runner.
Rain Bear nodded to the guards before he slipped into his lodge and shrugged out of his cape. As he hooked it on the peg by the door, he looked around. The boy rested beneath a buffalohide near the fire. He had his head covered up, but he moved slightly when he heard Rain Bear’s footsteps.
The soothing scent of burning alder filled the lodge.
Rain Bear inhaled a deep breath and sat down on his bedding to remove his moccasins and leggings. The boy’s sightless eyes peeked out from beneath the hide.
“Sleep, Tsauz. You must be at least as tired as I am, and I’m exhausted.”
Tsauz raised his head. In a hateful voice, he said, “Why did you kill my puppy? He was too small to have hurt anybody.”
“The spear in Runner’s belly was not a Raven spear.”
Tsauz blinked. “Not a … ?”
“It was a North Wind spear.” Rain Bear pulled his leggings off and set them aside. “Most likely a beautiful thing, covered with red paint.”
Tsauz stared blindly at the roof, but he seemed to be thinking. After several moments, he fearfully asked, “Was it cedar-bark paint?”
“Probably.”
“Oh,” the boy said in a weak voice.
Rain Bear untied his moccasin laces and removed them. Though he thought he knew the answer, he gently asked, “Do you know whose spear it was?”
“My father’s.”
“Why would your father kill your puppy?”
“I don’t know … . He—he might have worried about Runner making noise, maybe barking during the battle.” He sounded soul-sick. “But I wouldn’t have let him.”
Tsauz’s hands moved beneath the hides, probably petting the dead puppy.
Rain Bear stretched out atop his hides and heaved a tired breath. The sensation of lying down was so wonderful, he felt like he was floating. He closed his eyes and let the sweetness of rest filter through him. “I’m sorry, Tsauz. Sometimes people do things that just don’t make sense.”
As he drifted off to sleep, soft, barely audible whimpers filled the lodge.
Twenty-nine
Afternoon sunlight broke through the clouds and fell across the forest in pale glittering streaks. Changing shafts of light played soundless patterns across Sandy Point Village. People, exhausted from the ceremonies, mostly slept or lounged around.