Finally, Tsauz said, “But the chief is supposed to consult with his Starwatcher. He always has before. Father would have told him not to do it. I’m sure of it!”
Both Rain Bear and Evening Star turned to peer at Rides-the-Wind, wondering when he would comment. He stroked his gray beard and frowned out at the warriors. Voices had started to rise.
Rain Bear turned around to look at the commotion. Three men stalked up the trail. Bluegrass was in the lead. Guards with spears flanked them.
Evening Star said, “I will take Tsauz to my lodge. If you need us, that’s where we’ll be. Come along, Tsauz.”
He picked up the dead puppy and stood. This time he allowed her to take his hand. She led him to her lodge, and they disappeared inside. Hornet and Wolf Spider took up their positions outside her door.
Rain Bear rose to his feet. Softly, he said, “Circles within circles, Elder?”
Rides-the-Wind kept his eyes on the ground but answered, “Perhaps, Great Chief, you have found the question.”
He gestured at the approaching chiefs. “Right now I think I need answers more than I need another question.”
The old man smiled. “Ah, then you begin to understand the teacher’s dilemma. You know the answer, but haven’t the foggiest idea how to make your students believe it.”
Thirty
A dark blue wall of Cloud People pushed over Fire Mountain. Dzoo studied it as she shuffled up the steep trail that led around the outside of Sea Lion Village’s palisade. Ecan’s warriors marched in front and behind her. Everyone had their gazes fixed on the village, looking through the slats in the gaping palisade to the lodges within.
She remembered this place, had played here as a child. Then the village had contained over five tens of lodges, though only a few people had actually lived here, mostly Dreamers and caretakers. The rest of the lodges held caches of dried food, tool stone, and seashells.
The Holy trails that covered their mountainous land angled off in every direction, intersecting each other, sometimes running parallel, but they all converged at Sea Lion Village. It was the spiritual crossroads to the House of Air. All lost souls began their journey here.
As they rounded the eastern end of the rickety palisade, a gray-haired acolyte dressed in a drab brown tunic hobbled out of the interior carrying a basket that brimmed with bones. He nodded as he passed. She watched him continue to a small mound of sun-bleached human bone. It gleamed in the light, cracked, flaking, and rain washed. Thick green grass grew out of the tangle. Over the years, quite a pile of it had built up. Here and there, a battered skull stared out, the empty eyes questioning, the braincases nothing more than the perfect place for mice to build their homes. She looked back over her shoulder as the acolyte carefully placed the bones onto the pile.
The North Wind People varied in their tastes. Some wanted to be buried close to where they’d lived. Others found it worthwhile to have their bones prepared, and to send tribute to the Holy people who lived here in return for having their souls prayed over, separated from the bones, and sent to the House of Air.
Dzoo tilted her head and listened to the old man’s lilting voice calling the Star People to come and carry the soul to the road of light that led to the first of the Above Worlds.
“Are we traveling on to Fire Village?” she asked.
Warriors glanced at her, but no one answered. Far ahead, Ecan’s white cape flashed in the sunlight as the Starwatcher led them up the trail.
“Are we going on to Fire Village?” she asked, louder.
Exhausted from days of traveling without food, Dzoo tripped over a rock, stumbled, and almost fell before she caught herself.
“Don’t fall, witch!” young Hunter said from behind. “I don’t want to have to pick you up.”
She glanced over her shoulder, aware her vision was swimming. Was that his soul she saw—a loose yellowish blur around his body? Must have been. He looked suddenly frightened, and stopped dead in his tracks to lift his spear. In the slanting sunlight, his haunted expression turned stony. Black hair whipped around his face. Fearfully, he called, “Wind Scorpion!”
The old warrior trotted up, predatory gaze on first Hunter, and then her. “Careful, Hunter. If you’re helping her up, she might snag your soul and pull it from your body.”
Wind Scorpion gave her a look that sliced like freshly struck obsidian before he trotted past.
Hunter gave him an evil glance and veered wide around Dzoo, gesturing with his spear. “Walk, witch.”
She walked, fixing her gaze onto Wind Scorpion’s wide back. She squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of his soul. Her toe caught, and she broke contact as she flailed for balance. She turned her attention to her feet, aware she hadn’t the energy for both tasks. She’d caught a glimpse, but of what?