People of the Sea(124)
face. He’d clenched his right hand into a fist. “I’m sorry, Kestrel.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?”
She frowned up at him. His eyes scanned the surface of the ocean, touching on each floating bird or piece of driftwood as though searching for an answer to this disaster.
More softly, he repeated, “Isn’t it, Kestrel? I’m not nearly as certain as you are.”
“How could it be your fault?”
Sunchaser sighed wearily. The pale glow of the waning day glittered from the seashells on the fringes of his moose hide coat. He glanced at her, and the misery in his face deepened.
“I feel very lonely today, Kestrel.”
Turning without another word, he trudged down the beach, the quiver slung over his left shoulder swaying with his movements.
She saw him kick at a nxk, and she lagged behind, letting him be alone with himself.
As the bright afternoon wore on, Catchstraw trotted along the crest of the sea cliffs. Gravel crunched beneath his paws. The wind had turned warm, bringing him the scents of many animals: rabbits, mice, birds, deer, even mammoths, making his empty stomach growl ravenously. Gusts caressed his black fur like gentle human fingers. He wove in and around the cypress trees that crowded the cliffs, marveling at their gnarled branches and twisted shapes.
Father Sun’s rays coated the evergreen needles like pale yellow honey. The first spring butterflies had appeared as if by magic in the past two days, swarming over the meadows in a fluttering wealth of orange, yellow and white wings. He’d eaten a few of them, but they didn’t even dent his hunger, and
their wings coated his tongue with a foul, chalky taste. They seemed to like the winter cress and mustard flowers best. Whole stocks of the plants were encrusted with butterflies.
Catchstraw leaped over an old stump and trotted down a deer trail that dove off the edge of the cliff, followed a narrow ledge and wound down toward the beach. Mother Ocean’s constant roar filled the air. The water bore a blinding patina of light, as did Pygmy Island. The pines on the three main island peaks had turned a fiery gold in the sun.
In the distance, he could see the old village site. A twinge of homesickness assaulted him. He had spent his entire life next to the soothing sounds of the Mother, the lapping of the waves, the shrieking of the bald eagles and the roaring of the lions. He missed them, even though life here had been devilish for him. He’d been disdained, after all, by nearly everybody. It seemed strange to him now that he’d put up with it for so long. If he’d only known the Power of witching sooner! He could have taken revenge on everyone who had ever dared to slight him, and no one would have been the wiser. With Dire Wolf’s legs, he could cover enormous distances in only a few hands of time. He could attack, kill and be gone like a figment of moonglow. At least, he thought so. He’d been eating so many Powerful Spirit Plants that he was no longer certain about the passing of time.
Catchstraw wrinkled his snout. They’ll all pay. In this body, the fatigue of age can’t touch me. If it takes me the rest of my life to find each person who ever so much as looked at me crossways He stopped suddenly and pricked his ears. Two people strode down the beach ahead of him. A tall man and a tiny woman. It couldn’t be! He lifted his nose and scented the sea breeze.
A tingle crept through his veins. He took a wary step backward. Sunchaser… and the woman with the baby! Yes, he could identify each of their scents. Fear made his belly knot. His tongue lolled as he started to pant. Why was he so frightened of Sunchaser? In the form of a human…
yes, it was understandable. But as Dire Wolf? What could Sunchaser do to him?
That’s the problem. You don’t know. What can Dreamers do to witches? He’d never heard of a Dreamer even challenging a witch… perhaps a Dreamer wouldn’t dare to?
Curiosity curbed his fear. What a glorious experience it would be to fight Sunchaser as Dire Wolf! Why, Catchstraw could rip his throat. out effortlessly. How wonderful, to watch Sunchaser bleed to death!
When he’d first run the coast in the body of Dire Wolf, he’d found Sunchaser’s rock shelter, seen the light of his fire reflected on the dark ocean. And he’d smelled the woman there, too. But he hadn’t thought about the implications. Why would Sunchaser be with a woman? He was supposed to be Dreaming for Mammoth Above. At least that’s what he told people. Perhaps lust had eaten his Dreamer’s soul?
Catchstraw loped into the coastal trees and wound his way through the forest, following unseen behind Sunchaser and the woman.
The woman walked about twenty paces behind Sunchaser. She had slipped a dart through a loop on her pack and wore an atlatl tied to her belt. Did she have only one dart? Strange. She had clamped her lower lip between her teeth and reached over her shoulder to hold her baby’s plump hand—as though deeply worried about something and needing comfort.