Over by the hill, the mammoth cow’ rose to her feet. Wan blue light flashed from her short tusks and reflected with a fiery sheen in her eyes. The calf stood and shook himself, sending a gleaming wave through his long auburn hair.
Woodtick turned in the direction of Sunchaser’s gaze, then extended his hands. “Kestrel has been running for a long time, Sunchaser. She’ll be all right. She knows how to hide from her husband. But we—”
A garbled cry strangled in Sunchaser’s throat. He ran stumbling through the sand toward his camp.
The fragile scents of spring grasses and damp rocks surrounded Kestrel as she climbed the winding trail through the foothills. Last night’s strong moonlight had lit her path like a torch. She had made good time. Westward, Mother Ocean’s face shone a deep indigo, frosted with glimmers of silver. To the east, the land grew more rugged. The coastal forest changed as she ascended, going from sparse firs to dense, intermixed oaks and pines. Outcrops of granite spiked up jaggedly on several hills. Patches of grassy meadows softened the effect. In the dim predawn glow, the palest wildflowers resembled strewn handfuls of silver dust.
You should never have let him touch you.
Don’t. Not… not now. Later, when you’ve rested and can stand thinking about it.
Cloud Girl stirred in her sack on Kestrel’s back, and a tiny hand twined comfortingly in her mother’s hair. Kestrel reached up and patted those little fingers. “I’m all right, baby.”
A merciful dullness had possessed her. It numbed not only her heart, but the tired ache in her body. She needed to sleep, but she feared the nightmares that she knew would come. If she could just keep pushing herself, perhaps she could make it to Otter Clan Village by nightfall, even though Woodtick had said “two days.” Somewhere at the end of this trail, she had to believe, was safety, a place where she could sit with other people, watch children play—and try to heal the raw wounds in her soul.
If she could just hurt for a while without fearing that her weakness would endanger Cloud Girl, she might be all right. She hadn’t realized when she’d started loving Iceplant that the price she would pay for that brief warmth and joy would be everlasting fear. How precious those moments had been … and how desperately she needed to let them go.
And to let other things go as well.
The trail grew steeper, and Kestrel hurried her pace, forcing her weary legs up the slope as fast as she could. As dawn approached, the dark silhouettes of the hills and trees gave way to a watery lavender light. The trail became clear and wide, cutting a path through rich meadows. She concentrated on the Otter Clan, trying to find some hope to cling to. She thought about the things Sun… the things she knew about the clan.
You can’t even say his name. Kestrel?
A lump rose in her throat. She’d felt safe with him—safe for the first time in her life—and only now did she realize what it had cost him. By allowing himself to be her refuge, he had failed in his promises to Mammoth Above. The memory of his anguished face last night haunted her. He had looked shamed, bewildered. Why hadn’t she left him that day after the snow stopped? She had known very well that he wanted to be alone to Dream. He could just as easily have given her directions to Otter Clan Village as taken her there himself. It would have been abandoned anyway, but Sunchaser would have been spared this pain.
“Oh, Sunchaser…”
Kestrel started to shake, but not with tears. It was the dry shakes of naked emotion.
Would he hate her now? Now that she had made him love her, killed his ability to Dream and run away from him without a word? Blessed Above-Old-Man, she had hurt him in a thousand ways!
In the depths of his passion last night, when his white hair had hung like a glistening fire-dyed veil around her face, she had seen utter terror in his eyes, the terror of a man who suddenly realizes that he has become enmeshed in his own evasions and can’t find the will to end them. It had shocked her enough to wring her from her euphoria.
I had to go, Sunchaser. You see that, don’t you?
He could return to Dreaming now, and she could get on with raising her daughter. Sunchaser had given her so much.
Gratitude filled her for the time he had shared with her. Not so long ago, she’d desperately feared that tenderness had vanished from the world. In his presence, at least, that fear had died.
Kestrel lowered her gaze to the trail and the dew that glittered like diamonds on the pine needles scattering the path.
“Thank you, Sunchaser,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
Thirty seven
Birds sang in the trees, greeting the first Star People who gleamed on the eastern horizon. Oxbalm tightened the lacings on the front of his shirt, fending off the coming night chill. He sat on a deer hide between Sumac and Dizzy Seal.