People of the River(173)

From out of her memories. Wanderer's voice instructed: ". . .To step onto the path, you must leave it. Only the lost come to stand before the entrance to the Cave ..."

Lichen's mouth puckered as tears blurred her eyes. She looked back down the trail she had climbed. Even from this distance, she could discern dark shapes moving. "But Wanderer, the only place without paths is that horrible forest."

"... Only the defenseless step over the threshold. Wolf Slayer said to tell you that in union   you will find the Light, though it appears as Darkness ..."

"union  ?" The word slipped off of her tongue. She didn't know what that meant, not really. Now she wished she had asked more questions when she'd had the chance. "What is that, Wanderer? Did you mean that if I go down there into that darkness, I'll find the light of First Woman's Cave? Will the Dancers show me?"

Foxfire had told her: "... Just like warriors go on battle-walks, Dreamers have to confront their enemies. Are you willing to give up your soul to be our Dreamer? Bird-Man waits for you there . . . waits for you ..."

Lichen sucked on her lower lip, fighting the fear, and let her feet take her down, down, into the midst of the woods, where no trails marked the land, where dark trees watched in silence.

The woman's chanting rose to a thunderous roar. It boomed against her ears.

Lichen shouted, "Bird-Man?"

Stars shone through the leaves. Lichen raised her arms in front of her face to keep the vines from raking her eyes. Cool leaves whipped past with a cottony touch. For a while, she thought she might be all right. Then the masked Dancers returned, circling her like a ring of wolves, their feet pounding to the beat of a pot drum and rattles. She couldn't see them clearly. Just flashes of hideous red mouths, or of long noses carved from some kind of pale wood. When she looked the hardest, the Dancers vanished into twists of brush. Her heart had synchronized to the hollow beat of the drum.

"Bird-Man?"

Her voice echoed.

"Bird-Man! I'm trying to find you! Come and bring the wolves so I can get to First Woman!"

The shadows froze. Lichen jerked around, trying to figure out what they were doing. The chanting had stopped, the forest gone silent.

From the densest weave of trees, something glimmered. It seemed a trick of starlight when the figure loomed up from the heart of the darkness and stepped toward her.

“I hear you, little one."

Relief made Lichen laugh. She ran to him, shoving clinging dogwood and raspberry brambles out of the way. "Bird-Man, thank you. I—"

Bird-Man lowered his head, and his beak opened, revealing sharp teeth. He shrieked like Hawk.

Then he spread his wings and dove at her.





Forty-three


How long?" Petaga asked, standing on the knoll overlooking Cahokia Creek. While the plants closest to the water thrived, the brush lining the terrace had shriveled in the merciless heat; it was dust-coated and a sickly green. The goose-foot, grass, and knotweed looked as forlorn as the cornfields.

With the slow brightening of day, the mist evaporated, leaving the swarm of warriors clearly visible. Men and women slogged across the shallow water to challenge Bad-gertaii's forces, who had dug in on the opposite bank in front of the northern palisade wall. Arrows glinted in pale streaks, arcing from the shooting platforms, rising from the ground. Above them, the temple gleamed with a gaudy brilliance. Are you in there, Tharon? Well, you won't be for long.

"We'll have them by nightfall—I think," Hailcloud answered.

"When will we send in our ax teams?"

"Once we have the creek drainage." Hailcloud folded his arms uncomfortably. His gaze lingered on the temple. "The bank will provide a safe place for our warriors to shoot from. Then we'll start aiming at anyone who dares show his face above the palisade wall. When they're too frightened to stand up and shoot, we'll move."

Petaga paced the knoll, his sandals crackling on the parched, black dirt. To distract himself from the gnawing anxiety in his gut, he dreamed of what he would do when they'd won. It wouldn't be the way Aloda and Gopher had thought. Petaga would make sure that things didn't fall apart. He would reorganize the villages; Cahokia's elite would no longer run things. He would pick better people—but who they would be, he didn't know.

Nightshade would know. Nightshade knew everything.

Oh, how he longed to see her, to talk with her again and share his hopes. Once things had settled down, he would ask her to journey into the Underworld and tell First Woman that they had won the war and killed the wicked Sun Chief—ask her to beg First Woman's forgiveness for whatever offenses Tharon had committed. Surely First Woman would agree to talk to Mother Earth again, so that the crops would flourish next cycle.