People of the Sea(132)

The unmistakable sound of condor wings slicing the air came from somewhere close by. Horseweed and Balsam went rigid. A huge, dark shape floated above the trees.

Balsam panted, “Do you think he sees us?”

“Not yet,” Horseweed whispered. “Don’t run. Follow me.”

With the silence of Water Snake, Horseweed slid off the stone slab and dropped to his knees to crawl across the meadow. Though Balsam tried to scramble past him several times, he managed to keep his brother calm until they reached the base of the village hill. Then Balsam leaped to his feet and sped up the trail like a jackrabbit.

Horseweed stood and turned to look back. The condor had landed on top of the stone and bent to examine the



charcoal maze. The bird was huge. Horseweed swallowed hard. Condor moved across the granite, cocking his head, listening.

Then Condor lunged and struck like lightning. He came up with a mouse in his glinting beak, lifted his head and choked the creature down whole.

I’ve never heard of a condor hunting. They just don’t! They’re scavengers. A terrible chill gripped Horseweed’s heart. Terror ran icy fingers through his guts. I have to tell Grandfather about this, too.

Slowly, Horseweed backed up until he’d rounded the base of the hill. Then he raced up the trail with all his might, legs pumping.

As he sped toward the hilltop, Condor saw him and lifted into the air with a high-pitched squeal.





Thirty one


Sunchaser sat in the starlit darkness at the edge of the water, both knees drawn up, his elbows braced on them. He’d been here for three hands of time. He had eaten nothing since they’d left the old Otter Clan Village, for fear that his aching stomach would heave any food right back up. Dread writhed like a living creature inside him, twisting and turning.

A hundred hands away, Kestrel knelt before a fire that had burned down to wavering red coals. She’d laid out their hides and fixed dinner and tea, all in utter silence, leaving him be. She snugged an elk hide over her shoulders and unlaced the front of her dress. She lifted Cloud Girl to her breast and patted the baby absently as she nursed. Kestrel’s pretty face was tense and pale.



What game are we playing. Mammoth Above? Sunchaser picked up a large pebble and flung it into the black body of the ocean. You can do with me as you wish, but Kestrel doesn’t deserve this. All she wants is a home.

They’d camped on a narrow spit of sand, out in the open. Mother Ocean surrounded them on three sides, undulating restlessly. A few pale lavender blossoms of seaside daisy thrust up from the sand. But nothing else grew out here. Wind Girl stalked the beach vigilantly, hungry for prey; she clawed at Sunchaser’s clothing with icy fingers, trying to shake sense into him, to warn him.

But Sunchaser needed no warning. He understood the signs clearly.

Mammoth Above had brought Kestrel to him.

Mammoth Above had driven the Otter Clan away so that he would be forced to stay with Kestrel. . Because Mammoth Above knew what was happening to him.

The strength of his feelings shocked him. He had known Kestrel for such a short time. Yet it seemed that she’d filled his dreams forever. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

Helper whimpered.

Sunchaser turned to look at him. The dog lay behind him, his head on his paws, watching the world through huge brown eyes. A fuzz of black hair had begun to grow in his. mangy spots. “Why didn’t you stop this, Helper? Isn’t that why you’re here? To keep me on the path? To remind me of my duty to the Spirit Powers?” ,

Helper’s eyelids drooped, half opened, drooped again and closed. The dog groaned and flopped over on his side.

Sunchaser scratched his ears. “Spirit Helper, can’t you even stay awake when I’m talking to you?”

When Cloud Girl had finished nursing, Kestrel tucked her between two soft elk hides and spoke to her softly for a time. Sunchaser could hear the baby mew in return and saw Kestrel bend over to kiss her daughter’s forehead.



Kestrel stood glancing between Cloud Girl and Sunchaser, clearly trying to decide whether or not to disturb him. Then she resolutely walked out across the cool sand.

With his heart in his throat, Sunchaser watched her approach. She took her time, her arms folded over her chest to block the wind. When she stood in front of him, she hesitated before kneeling to face him.

He looked at her in a kindly way. “What is it, Kestrel?”

“Could I talk with you?”

“Of course.”

She bit her lip. “Sunchaser, I’m frightened. I—I fear that you may hate me because I—”

“No. I don’t hate you.”

She ignored him, rushing on. “But you don’t hate me nearly as much as I hate myself. I know I’m a burden to you. I’m keeping you from Dreaming. I really don’t understand why we’ve been thrown together—”