“It’s “going to be embarrassing if Sunchaser gets home before we do,” Horseweed said.
“Why? Who cares?” Balsam’s young brow furrowed. “Anyway, there’s not much we can do about it. Wonder why he doesn’t want to talk to us.”
“After what we did to the Dream Cave, I wouldn’t want to talk to us either.” Horseweed had been feeling increasingly morose as they neared the coast. How could I have been so stupid?
Balsam glanced sideways at him. “Oh, that’s why you’re worried. You think that Sunchaser will tell Catchstraw?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to tell anybody. Least of all, Catchstraw.” He grimaced and kept on walking.
They reached the southern side of the meadow, where the trail entered the trees again. A clear slash of brown covered with elk tracks wound down the slope. Horseweed put his hands on his hips and gazed out across the vista. Straight ahead, Mother Ocean spread vast and blue. Her body wedded with Brother Sky’s in the distance, marking the hazy border to the Land of the Dead. At the point where Father Sun set, there was an opening. That was where souls entered the Land of the Dead.
To the south, Pygmy Island broke the crystal surface of the water. The big island had been named for the stunted animals that lived there. The mammoths grew to barely the height of a man. Dwarf foxes roamed its shores, and tiny skunks lived in the uplands. The westernmost peak was called Sand Verbena Mountain; the peak in the center was Rush Rose Mountain; and the big eastern peak, Milkwort Mountain.
Legend said that many generations ago, the peaks had been three separate islands. Horseweed could believe it. Just in his short lifetime, he’d witnessed amazing changes. Mother Ocean had been steadily rising. He remembered, as a little boy, his Grandmother Sumac telling him not to play in the sand flats between Milkwort Mountain and Rush Rose peak during high tide, because he might be drowned when the water rushed in. Now those same sand flats were always covered with water, except during really low tides.
The clouds split for a moment and sunlight spilled around Horseweed. Balsam sighed and tipped his face to the warmth.
“Well, come on,” Horseweed said. “The sooner we get home, the sooner our humiliation will be over.”
They broke into a trot, but when they rounded a bend in the trail, there was Sunchaser, standing with one shoulder against the trunk of a fir tree, his arms folded across his broad chest. The seashells tied to the fringes of his heavy moose hide jacket clicked melodiously in the breeze. Amazing. Moose were so rare. The old people said that the big animals were travelers, just like humans were, and had come to this part of the world only a short time ago. Such a jacket must have cost a fortune. Sunchaser had pulled his white hair away from his oval face and plaited it into a long braid. The style accentuated his deep-set black eyes and made his chin seem more squared.
Horseweed stopped before Sunchaser. “We’ve been trying to catch you!”
A smile warmed the Dreamer’s face. He stepped away from the tree and put an arm around Horseweed’s shoulder, as if they were old friends, and headed him down the trail again. They walked side by side, with Balsam following; the younger boy’s steps had gone unnaturally quiet.
Horseweed peered at the Dreamer’s arm as he walked. “Wh-what did you want, Sunchaser? Did you … have something to say to me?” Sunchaser squinted up at the sunlight glittering in the treetops. “I’ve been thinking about that earthquake we had in the high mountains.”
“Earthquake?” Horseweed asked. “What earthquake?”
“The one that caused the roof of the Dream Cave to collapse. I think it was a sign.”
Horseweed gave Sunchaser a curious glance. “A sign of what? Stupidity?”
Sunchaser suppressed a smile. “Not at all. I’m sure that if you and Balsam had not come up and called me out when you did, I would have been in the Dream Cave when that
earthquake struck.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Yes, no doubt about it. Oxbalm should be very proud of you when he hearr of how you saved me.”
“That’s what you’re going to tell him?”
“You did call to me, didn’t you?”
Horseweed blurted, “I didn’t mean to call you those things, Sunchaser! I didn’t recognize you. You look so much older with your white hair. If I’d known—”
“You called me out, and then the Quaking Earth Spirits poured their wrath on the mountains. Isn’t that right?”
Horseweed swallowed hard. “If you say so.”
“Good.” Sunchaser clapped his shoulder. “It’s settled. Now, I need some help from you.”