People of the Sea(168)

Wolf hesitated, looked up, suddenly distracted… and Sunchaser dove for his dart point. With all of his might, he plunged the blade deep into Wolf’s right hind quarter, ripping, sawing, seeking to hamstring the beast. Wolf yipped and attacked again, but a hurtling black body slammed into the animal before it could sink its teeth into Sunchaser’s side.

Sunchaser rolled free, scrambling to recover. What… Helper!

Dog and Wolf rolled across the forest floor in a snarling, biting fury of black that ripped patches of brown duff from the ground.

Sunchaser staggered forward, seeking to drive his dart point into the dire wolf but finding vo opportunity in the milling legs, snapping teeth and thrashing tails.



In an instant, the dire wolf tore free and raced away into the trees, Helper slashing at his rear.

“Helper! No!” Sunchaser screamed before dropping to his knees, spent and panting. “Don’t… don’t chase him! Let him go.”

Silence. Not even Owl’s plaintive voice carried on the night.

But Dire Wolf might return to finish the kill.

Sunchaser’s entire body throbbed as he slid backward, leaving a broad trail of blood. He managed to drag himself into a dense pile of deadfall, deep into the smell of moldering wood and new grass. He collapsed on his left side, trying to catch his breath. Here, at least, his back and sides were protected from attack.

A soft whining.

Sunchaser weakly lifted his head. “Helper? Helper?”

A black blot in the darkness, Helper crawled in, sniffing at the blood, licking Sunchaser’s hand, then his face, the tongue warm and reassuring.

“You all right?” Sunchaser asked, hearing the tail thumping hollowly against the tangle of dead branches that sheltered them.

Weary, so very weary. Sunchaser couldn’t reach down to pat his friend. “Good boy, Helper. Good boy. Are you all right? Did Wolf hurt you?”

Helper pawed at him, as if trying to get him to move.

“Guess you’re…” Sunchaser shifted his mangled leg and gasped. “You’re in much better condition… than I am.”

With every beat of his heart, blood drenched his ripped shirt and pants, and a numb sensation filtered through him. He felt strangely detached from his body—as though his Spirit floated high above him. Was he losing so much blood?

“Helper?” Nausea overwhelmed him. He choked the sourness back. “Helper, go find Oxbalm. He’s up the trail. Go find… Oxbalm ..

.”



Helper went silent, then madly scrambled out of the deadfall.



Sunchaser didn’t hear him run away. His ears seemed to be stuffed with cattail down. He could feel himself slipping away… grayness … fading. Pain flayed him as his shocked nerves awoke in a flood of agony. So lightheaded. Drifting. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something about the wolf… what… the wolf… those burning brown eyes, that fetid human scent. Its mad frenzy. Why had it… Sunchaser rolled to his back and peered unseeing at the dimness.

Dire wolves have yellow eyes.

“Oh, Spirits, no.”

His thoughts wavered, moving like whirlwinds of dust created by the feet of racing children. His body spun, pulsing, as though on the fourth night of the Mammoth Spirit Dance. He could scarcely feel his flesh, was aware only of the cadence of the sacred motions, the movements of the Dance, becoming Life, lifting him off the ground, taking him flying to the stars…

Then a hand, bright and golden, appeared before Sun chaser’s eyes—like a figment spawned by death, or by extreme thirst. He blinked at it, disbelieving. A beautiful voice issued from the blackness. “Come with me, Sunchaser. Take my hand. I need to show you the twists and turns of the Starweb.”

Sunchaser opened his eyes, but he perceived only hurtful brilliance. His voice came out in a hushed croak. “The Starweb? What is that?”

“Your heart. Dreamer. Yours—and Everything else’s. Come. Take my hand. Before it’s too late.”

“But where are we going? Who are you?”

“You’re hurt, Sunchaser. You don’t recall, but we’ve met before. Cycles ago, in a different world. I’m Wolfdreamer. I led the First People up from the dark underworlds to this World of Light. But the Light is going to die, Sunchaser. Mammoths and lions will go first, then bristle snails and salt marsh harvest mice, a few tiny pup fish and finally eagles



and hears. Everything else will follow. Too son… unless you help me.”

Sunchaser’s heart thundered. Deep in his soul, he knew what the final moments of Light would be like. He could hear and see those eternal instants as though they’d been burned into his soul with a fiery brand: a deluge of misty rainbow fires, swallowed by stunning Darkness… music like none he’d ever heard before, the notes lilting powerfully as the sparks of eternal brilliance cried out and Perished beneath the onslaught of oblivion … then utter Blackness, complete, devastating. Infinite.