"All right," Wanderer whispered. He held Homed Toad high over his head and closed his eyes. "Let's see what's happening out there."
As Wanderer turned in a slow circle, sunli^t transformed his gray hair into a snowy halo. Lichen gazed up at Homed Toad. His tliroat puffed as he scanned the rolling hills. Whenever Homed Toad blinked. Wanderer stopped suddenly, as though he could no longer see, then rotated another hand's worth.
After he had finished three full circles. Wanderer's brows drew down over his long nose. He lowered Homed Toad, untied the thread, and let him go. Toad scampered back into the grass, blades bending this way and that as he ran.
"Could you see anything?"
Wanderer wet his lips. "Petaga. He's still in the south, but it looks like he's moving north. From the smoke patterns, I would say that he's attacked several villages along the way." The red thread dropped from Wanderer's finger and fluttered into the weeds. "But I couldn't see anything to the north or west. I don't understand."
Lichen edged closer to him. "What don't you understand?"
"If Badgertail left Cahokia yesterday, I should have seen . . . something. Warriors, or scavenger birds following the warriors. Where could Badgertail be? He must be traveling with nearly a thousand." He frowned. "Do you think Wolf Slayer was wrong?"
Lichen shielded her eyes to examine the west. The bluffs along the Father Water were nothing more than an ethereal smudge of gray. But the longer Lichen gazed at them, the more uneasy she felt. When the wind stirred the sunflowers, she thought she heard a voice calling to her, desperately. "Wanderer? Something's wrong out there. Can you feel it?"
"Yes." He nodded. "I've been feeling it all morning."
"Let's hurry!" Lichen trotted down the hill to the trail, Wanderer close on her heels. Over her shoulder she called, "When can you teach me more. Wanderer? Tonight?"
"If your mother will let me, yes. In fact, doing this lesson in your own house might be best. You'll feel safer there than anywhere else."
Lichen broke into a hard run, her legs pumping while the pack slapped her back. Bristly nettles snatched at her sleeves as she flew past. In the distance, the trail wound downward. "What will you teach me. Wanderer?"
His sweat-damp gray hair flopped with each long, ungainly stride. "I was thinking that maybe you're ready to learn about surrender—about stepping into the mouth of the Spirit that wants to chew you up."
Locust's boots squished in the moist sand as she walked along Pumpkin Creek behind Badgertail. Patches of mint filled the air with a savory tang. Every so often Locust plucked a leaf and chewed it gratefully. They had marched half of last night and all of today, gnawing dried fish from their packs and making do with what plants presented themselves along the way. But their speed could not keep Locust from worrying about her sister-in-law. The birthing women had said that Green Ash's time was close, and Locust desperately wanted to be there when the child pushed from the world of darkness into this world of light. Primrose might need her if something went wrong.
She glanced at Badgertail's broad back. But Badgertail needed her, too . . . especially now.
Fifty warriors followed in single file behind Locust, quiet, cautious. To either side, the creek's banks rose steeply, shielding them from all but the highest points on the bluffs to the east. But nothing was certain. Curls of smoke sprouted for as far as the eye could see.
What is Petaga doing? Burning every village in the highlands?
"We'll be there by moonrise," Badgertail called softly over his shoulder. He lifted a hand to point. "The village sits at the base of that crescent-shaped outcrop."
The fires of sunset reflected from the flat faces of the rocks in a play of colors so dazzling that it hurt her eyes, an iridescent mosaic of lavender, indigo, and fallow gold.
"Will we attack tonight, Badgertail? Or wait for sunrise? The warriors are tired. It's been a long, hot march."
"It depends on what we see when we arrive. I won't know until then. Remind the warriors again that we're looking for two things: a tall old man with gray hair, named Wanderer, and—"
"You're going to save Wanderer, as Nightshade asked?"
"Yes. She wouldn't have asked unless that old man played some important role in the future."
Locust gestured apprehensively. "But what if the role he plays is against us, Badgertail? How can we know—"
"We can't, cousin. But we can always kill him later if it turns out that he's supposed to help Petaga. Anyway, tell the warriors not to hurt Wanderer and to find that Stone Wolf. Since we don't know what the Wolf is, tell them to protect anything that might be it."