He made a swirling motion with his hand, and the vision transformed into one of drifting clouds that sailed through midnight skies.
Thunder roared, and from its heart a woman whispered, "/ feel lost. It's like being born into a new world."
The rainy night brightened into day. From the gold-spun rays of sunlight, the image of a man formed. He lay on a spire of rock that jutted up from a high mountain. Below him, to the west, there stretched a broad basin, and purple mountains rimming the incredible vista. Blood oozed from the man's cracked lips when he opened his mouth to speak. "I can't be your Dreamer. I can't leave Elk Charm . . . or my girls. I love them too much."
The scent of smoke penetrated the vision. Lichen turned to gaze at Foxfire. His young face had taken on a bittersweet expression that melted her heart.
"No one wants to be a Dreamer, Lichen — but can you be one?" Foxfire's large eyes encompassed her soul. "Are you willing to give up your soul? It means that you'll have to leave the safety of your cave and go to Nightshade at Cahokia. Alone. Unarmed."
"But there are enemy warriors everywhere out there. I—I'm only ten summers! I can't go by myself—"
"So was I," he said softly. "/ was ten when Power called."
"You were a Dreamer?"
"Yes. A very long time ago." Foxfire rose to his feet and stared down at her. The air wavered around him as heat wafted up from the rocks, blurring his body into bizarre, ominous shapes. "It was as hard for me as it is for you. Lichen. But I learned that I had to give up all that I was to gain all that I was not. A Dreamer needs to understand both before he can enter the Light and learn what he needs to keep the Spiral in balance. When I came back, I made two sacred Power Bundles — one of Light, the Wolf Bundle that your people call the Tortoise Bundle, and one of Dark, the Raven Bundle. It lives far to the east, along the great shore. I took the last vestiges left by Raven Hunter and Wolf Dreamer and put them into the heart of the bundles. Opposites crossed, you see. Still . . . I was afraid."
"How did you get over it?"
"I united the worlds in myself and became Feathered Serpent. He was my Spirit Helper. "
"Became?"
"Some Dreamers are strengthened when they're consumed by fire, Lichen. Fire-Dancer was. Other Dreamers need water. White Ash did. Some, like us, have to drown in blood before they can unite the worlds in themselves. Don't fear it, Lichen. Those crushing jaws will give you Falcon s wings ..."
"What do you mean? I don't understand."
Lichen stumbled backward when Foxfire's legs began to writhe in a hideous dance. As she watched, they lengthened and twined into a snake's body, with scales that shimmered a deep blue. Black feathers sprouted from the roots of his arms, stretching and spreading until monstrous wings blotted the sunlight. With wistful, human eyes, he peered down at her. "Go to Cahokia. Bird-Man waits for you there ..."
Lichen bolted upright in the cave. Panting, she looked out at the starry night. Wolf Pup hung in the middle of the sky, his snout pointed straight up as if scenting for danger. Lichen blinked. Something tiny fell from Wolf Pup's paw. It spun gently through the darkness and settled on the lip of her cave. She crept forward over the cold stone floor to stare at it. The black feather glistened with a leaden brilliance in the starlight.
Thirty-two
Night hugged the land as Badgertail crawled through the tall cane fields that lined the southern meanders of Pumpkin Creek. The thick leaf blades rustled with his guarded movements, but the water should cover the sound. He prayed.
Hailcloud's lookouts roved the darkness. He had crept past three of them in the last two hands of time.
"Locust . . ."he whispered.
On the other side of the creek drainage, camp fires gleamed boldly. He lifted his head to study them, and the moist wind drenched his face with the fragrances of damp mint and newly flowered spice bush. The yellow clusters of blossoms that spotted the creek bank swarmed with blinking sparkflies. Badgertail squinted through the glittering mesh, counting the fires.
Fifteen in all. That meant maybe seventy people.
He sank back to the cover of the cane. Are you mad, Hailcloud? What are you doing lighting fires? Inviting my northern war parties to swoop down upon you? Or inviting me to rush into your arms in an attempt to save Locust?
Hailcloud was too shrewd a warrior to light fires with no thought of the possible outcome—unless he knew the precise location of Badgertail's war parties, and they were nowhere close, or unless he knew that the war parties had been neutralized. Petaga would have certainly sent runners to notify his war leader of such crucial information.