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People of the Wolf(12)

By:W. Michael Gear


"My brother?" Raven Hunter scoffed. "A Spirit Dreamer? More likely he conjures images of snowflakes in sunlight."

Fox squared her shoulders, feeling his gleaming black eyes trace the lines of her face. She looked away, hearing him as he approached to stand beside her. Teeth gritted, she kept her eyes on Runs In Light.

"My brother's mind is simple, woman," Raven Hunter whispered softly. "His thoughts are in a different world than yours or mine."

She swallowed and looked up into his hard face. "How would you know?"

"Your devious ideas lie on your face like tracks in fresh snow," Raven Hunter said, sarcastic humor and something else, something painful, in his eyes. "And it's not just me who sees them."

"I don't know what you're—"

"I think you do." Smiling, he walked away, lithe, a predator even in starvation. Curse him to be buried, did he have to be so sure of himself? Something, the way his eyes looked, made her wonder. Haughty or not, Raven Hunter rarely made mistakes. That was his genius, knowing how souls—human and animal—worked.

Two children broke from the knot, stumbling out to greet Jumping Hare and One Who Cries as they tramped nearer, bearing angular chunks of frozen wolf meat.

The only burden Runs In Light bore dangled gray from his shoulders: wolf's hide, head still attached, eyes crystal-frozen and dull.

' 'Runs In Light brings meat!'' Jumping Hare cried. Then his voice thrummed higher, like walrus gut in the sun. "And he brings a Dream!"

. They waited, tense, staring at the red-white slabs of meat on the hunter's shoulders, minds on the promise of life it bestowed. A Dream? A Spirit Dream?

Runs In Light stopped at the edge of their circle; he looked from face to face. Everything stilled except for Wind Woman, who playfully harassed their clothing, tickling their faces with loose strands of hair.

"Tell us," Broken Branch cackled eagerly into the silence.

"Wolf Dream," he said softly, face stony. "But not here in the cold. Let's go inside before Wind Woman takes all our warmth and blows it to the Long Dark."

"Cut up the meat!" Crow Caller snapped sourly. "Don't play games, boy. People are hungry."

"No," Runs In Light responded with eerie calmness. "Wolf gave the meat to me to take us south. He came in a Dream and showed me the way. His body will keep the People strong on the journey. Heart blood runs in my veins—it is the way.''

"Bah! You? You're just a boy! You wouldn't know a Spirit Dream if it—''

"You dare! Look at him! Look and see Power! The

Dream's in his eyes." Broken Branch whirled, a crooked finger lancing dangerously up toward Crow Caller's face.

Fox caught her breath as Runs In Light's eyes swirled and shifted, reminding her of the way wolves' eyes gleamed beyond the butchering fires at night.

"We go north." Crow Caller's hand swung, pointing to where Father Sun brightened the far horizon. "I, too, have Dreamed . . . boy. Mammoth calls us back the way we came. Like I told you all last Long Light. Remember? Let's go back-"

"Then go." Runs In Light lifted his chin. "Spirit Power comes where it will. It's not a thing of men. Wolf gave me his Power. The Wolf Dream will take me—and those of the People who will follow—to the south. There in the Big Ice—"

' 'Lies death!'' Crow Caller's voice cracked.

As Runs In Light's eyes fell on him, the old shaman wet his lips and stepped backward, as though he feared the boy. Frosty breath plumed white in the feeble glare. Snow-shot wind stinging their faces, the People backed away.

"Death! You hear, boy!" Crow Caller's white eye glowed baleful while his black one sparked like flint against granite. "Monsters climb in the ice. The souls of the lost dead sing from there." He turned, pointing to each of the People in turn. "When you get close to the Big Ice, you'll hear them . . . creaking and groaning, their bones cracking under the weight. They'll kill you! We have to go north."

"You go north," Broken Branch shouted. "Maybe you and you alone are supposed to be killed by the Others."

Hobbling to Runs In Light, she hooked taloned fingers in his worn skins. "See me, boy. Look at me. See ... see ... the Dream?" She drew his face so close to hers that their condensed breath mingled in a white cloud to curl around their heads.

For a long second she stood stiffly, fingers tight around the back of his neck. Then she pulled him closer still, eyes almost touching.

"Ha-heee!" she wheezed, letting him go and stumbling back, arms circling for balance. She sat down suddenly, crooning to herself as the People watched in frightened fascination.

"Fools, both of them," Raven Hunter grunted from behind.