"Did he take you into the Village of the Ancestors?"
Lichen gobbled a chunk of meat, barely chewing it. "A little way. Bird-Man told me he wanted me to talk to some people and to see a vision."
"What vision?"
Lichen's lids fluttered before she lowered her eyes. Tears glistened in those dark depths. "People dying. The land dying. Just like here. But this was a place far to the south. I think it's where the Palace Builders live. There were huge buildings made of stone. Bird-Man said that they had wounded Mother Earth just as badly as we have and that they need a Dreamer too, to set things right again."
Wanderer methodically gnawed at his grouse, but his attention stayed on Lichen. She had changed. She sounded so different, older. But that happened when a Dreamer got a new soul. They became disoriented for a time, seeing an old world through strange new eyes. He had known Dreamers who'd gone mad from fear. Others would leave their homes, searching to fulfill the visions that suddenly filled them with longing. Dreamers like Wanderer just delighted in the bizarre thoughts that came to them. After he had gotten Pack Rat's soul, he'd had the unquenchable urge to poke his nose into dark crevices, looking for shiny objects. He had spent an entire moon sleeping in the day and poking around at night—collecting bits of mica, and crystals. Then one night he'd poked his head into a hole in the ground where Weasel lived. He'd pulled his head out quickly, but not before Weasel had sunk his needle teeth into the top of Wanderer's skull. He'd had problems with weasels ever since.
"Lichen, did you tell Wolf Slayer that you wanted to go see First Woman and talk to her about the land dying?"
"Yes, but he said I couldn't. Not yet."
Lichen sipped her tea, watching Wanderer with the bright, unblinking eyes of Water Snake. When she set her cup down, she brought up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. "Wanderer? Why didn't you ever tell me you were my father?"
His hand stopped midway in bringing his cup to his mouth. "I . . . Lichen . . ."He fought to swallow past the knot in his throat. "Your mother never claimed me. She wanted people to believe that Shouts-At-Night was your father. It made things easier for her."
"How did you know you were my father?"
He smiled. "Oh, I knew. I felt the instant you were conceived. I could see your glow in Vole's womb. I even knew you'd be a Powerful Dreamer because of the colors of your soul, blue and red so brilliant they shimmered purple."
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"I couldn't. You belong to your mother's clan." Tea sloshed onto the floor when he tried to set the cup down, because his hand was shaking. "It would have been embarrassing for Vole. I wasn't well liked. People feared me. And ... I loved your mother. I didn't want to hurt her."
As the flames died down in the firepit, smoke curled upward in billowing clouds. It hovered, roiling along the ceiling before being sucked out the doorway.
Lichen's mouth quirked. "You know what. Wanderer?"
"What's that, Lichen?"
"I wish I'd known a long time ago. Maybe I could have come up to see you more often."
Wanderer bowed his head. "I would have liked that. I got lonely for you."
Lichen bit her lower lip uneasily. Her fingers had knotted in the green fabric over her shins. "What am I going to do. Wanderer? Mother won't like me having Water Snake's soul. I don't ..." She fidgeted. "I don't want to go home now. I want to live with you. You understand about things like this."
"Yes, I do. And then, too, you still have to try to find Falcon's soul. Maybe we should talk to Vole about it when we take you home."
"She won't let me. Wanderer. She thinks you're bad for me.
He let out a sigh. "Maybe I can convince her anyway. She has listened to me once or twice before."
A sparkfly had flown in through the window. It blinked over Lichen's head. For the first time that day, Wanderer heard Lichen laugh that childish laugh that warmed his soul.
She tipped her face to watch the sparkfly's erratic path. Slowly, she lifted a finger. The insect flitted down and sat on the tip. Her mouth gaped. A joyous expression came over her face as she examined the yellow designs on the fly's back while it crawled over her hand and up her arm.
When it finally winged away toward the ceiling. Lichen propped her chin on her drawn-up knees and gave Wanderer an affectionate gaze. "I'm glad you're my father. Wanderer. There's nobody else I'd want for a father."
Emotion swelled at the back of his throat. He tilted his head awkwardly, and Lichen jumped up and ran across the room. Her green hem swung around her legs as she crawled into the circle of his arms and snuggled against him. Wanderer kissed the top of her head and hugged her close.