People of the River(4)

"Who are they?" Flycatcher whispered hoarsely. "Part of Wanderer's family?"

"If they are, I've never met them here before."

Sand trickled over the ledge as something heavy moved across the stone above. Lichen and Flycatcher craned their necks to look.

"What is it?" Flycatcher hissed in panic. "A cougar?"

Lichen shifted to get up. "I don't—"

A shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds, lancing the rock shelter, and a loud ''There it is!" split the day.

Flycatcher let out a hoarse scream as he and Lichen crashed into each other lunging to their feet, shoving and pushing, frantic to get away. But before they had taken three paces. Wanderer's tall, lanky form dropped from the overhang and landed like a thrown rock. Dust encircled him as he staggered sideways, his scant gray hair spiking out in wild disarray.

"Look at it!" Wanderer shouted and began grabbing up rocks and smashing them into the side of his house. "Hurry! Get some rocks. We have to kill it. It pounced on me first thing this morning! Tried to eat my feet!"

Lichen's body jerked with each impact of stone against wall. Flycatcher had clutched her shoulders and hidden himself behind her. She could feel his heavy breathing warm on her upper arm. They stared in utter terror at the house, against which the long, dark shadow wavered in the sunlight.

"Wanderer!" Lichen blurted. "That's your own shadow. Look how it moves when you do."

The old man stopped throwing in midswing. His rock-filled hand hovered over his head. He bent forward cautiously and squinted his faded brown eyes at the suspect darkness, then slammed his rock down and declared, "I wish you'd come earlier. Lichen! I wouldn't have wasted all day following it over the bluffs."

He strode forward in a tattered swirl of heavily painted wolf-hide robe and lifted her off her feet to hug her. "In fact, I wish you'd come moons ago. I've done some very strange things this winter. I think I'm changing form again."

Lichen pried herself loose from his grip when she heard Flycatcher make a strangling noise behind her. "Wanderer, we'll talk about it later, all right? I want you to meet my friend."

She turned and extended her hand to Flycatcher, who had flattened himself against the side of the house and was panting as though he had just finished a tough race.

Wanderer cocked his head and blinked at the boy like a demented owl. "Why, it's Flycatcher, isn't it? From the Serpent Clan. I remember the night you were bom. What a nasty windstorm that was. It actually blew boulders off the ridge tops and sent them crashing down on people below." He shook his head and clucked noisily. "Yes, I recall that well. Course, I wasn't much help with the cleanup. I had the soul of a vulture at the time, and—"

"Wanderer!" Lichen cut him short when she saw Rycatch-er's mouth gape. "Why don't we have some tea? I need to talk to you. I had a bad Dream."

"Oh, of course. You've come such a long way. You must have risen before dawn to get here so early." He knelt and gestured to his door. "Please, go on inside."

Lichen winked encouragingly at Flycatcher before she dropped to her knees and crawled into the cool, odd-smelling womb of the house. She went to the southern wall and sat cross-legged on a soft pile of fox hides. She heard Wanderer say, "Come on. Flycatcher, you little snake. I've got baskets full of your dead kin in there for you to look at. Hurry it up! Do I have to cast a spell on you to get you into my house?"

Flycatcher dove tlu-ough the doorway in a flying whirl of arms and legs. He scrambled up beside Lichen and whispered "Not crazy, huh?" before he sank back into the shadows, wishing he could disappear.

Wanderer ducked through the entry and smiled in that lopsided way of his. "My, it's good to have someone come to see me again. It's been such a long winter. How's your mother. Lichen? Did she ever go on the vision quest you mentioned last fall? As I recall, she was still struggling to tap the Power in that Stone Wolf of hers."

"Yes. I guess the vision quest worked a little. She says that sometimes, after she's fasted and prayed for six days, she can feel the feathery touch of harmony coming from the Wolf."

''Well, she's making progress then, though she has a long way to go to reach the Land of the Ancestors in the Underworld. I wish her well. And how about you? You had a bad Dream? A Spirit Dream?"

A single raven, a huge bird with a gnarled beak, fluttered down to sit on the windowsill. It peered suspiciously at Flycatcher and Lichen. Flycatcher sank his fingernails into Lichen's arm, and she wrenched away in self-defense. Red crescents marred her smooth skin.

Wanderer cawed to the creature, moving his head in a birdlike fashion. The raven cawed back. Wanderer cocked his head. "Why, thank you. Crossed Beak. No, I didn't know that," he said.