"No. I've only been here since yesterday."
"Well, maybe we can catch her."
"Let her go," Three Falls said softly, looking out over the piled rocks of the valley. "I've seen enough dead women."
"She knows about the hole in the ice. She's seen the other side."
Three Falls' eyes sought hers earnestly. "What's it like?"
"Go see for yourself." She pointed to the hole.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Is it just more rock, more scrubby wormwood and sedge, more of these sloppy rocky lakes? Flies and mosquitoes? Starvation around every esker and moraine? Fog? Blowing snow?"
She smiled and shook her head. "Trees taller than you can imagine. Game that's tame. A divide that looks like it leads down into another Big River—this one leading south. Maybe to another salt water where we can fish without Others attacking us. And there's no sign of men."
"I'm going!" Three Falls cried.
"No, you're not."
"But you just told me—"
"I've changed my mind. You've got to help me catch Moon Water first, or you'll end up sharing everything I told you with the Others."
"I won't kill her."
"I think her husband, Jumping Hare, will thank you for that."
He cocked his head skeptically. "Agreed?"
Reluctantly, she nodded. "I just want to stop her before she reveals the path to the other side."
"Let's go."
"Can I dry my clothing first? This is the first time I've been warm in days."
"Of course." He sighed, crossing his arms. "I like looking at your body. Makes me think of things."
"Then look the other way. My body doesn't think of yours."
"Unfortunate."
"Too bad you're a man with a caring soul. If you were a maggot like Raven Hunter, you'd—"
"I wish you hadn't put it that way."
"Uh-huh."
"It'll be a long hunt for Moon Water."
"Indeed."
The small fire of birch and willow had burned down to hissing, popping coals in the fire pit. Singing Wolf leaned forward, awed by these men who had dominated the ways of the People for so long. Beside him, One Who Cries sat, amiable face drawn with an unusually serious expression.
His white hair in two long braids, Buffalo Back carried the aura of age and power. He listened, nodding occasionally, the once-sharp eyes having gone softly brown over the years. His wizened face—like a dried puffball—betrayed no amazement.
Four Teeth—bags sagging under his old fleshy eyes-worked his gums absently, sucking where his cheek teeth had once been. Age spots dotted his broad face, accenting the deeply graven, lines of his patriarchal features. With stubby brown fingers, he pulled at the hairy corners of his faded parka.
"You can't believe it. Buffalo, mammoth, caribou. The tundra there is shorter, but the animals are just fearless."
Buffalo Back shook his head. "Doesn't seem possible."
"But it is," Singing Wolf insisted. He gestured with his
hands, palms up. "Myself, I wouldn't have believed it But it's there."
"I don't know." Four Teeth shook his head. "Going under the ice? Down in all that blackness? What if something happened? Huh? What then? Our souls—"
"And how much game is there?" Buffalo Back insisted. "How do we know we wouldn't hunt the place out? Then what? Come back here? Back under the ice?"
"Wolf Dreamer will know." One Who Cries crossed his arms.
"So we hear." Four Teeth grunted. "Where is he? Huh? He shows up and disappears into that hole in the rocks. You know what the People say about holes in the rocks? It's not right that souls go underground."
Singing Wolf stared wearily across the fire, thinking about Heron's shelter. His memories fixed on the firelit skulls and he shivered slightly. "I don't know what he's doing. Maybe I don't want to know. Dreaming, real Dreaming, makes a person nervous:"
"Is he really a Dreamer?" A note of doubt lurked in Four Teeth's voice.
One Who Cries nodded soberly. "Heron told Broken Branch that he'd be better than she was."
"We'll see when Crow Caller gets here." Four Teeth squinted, tilting his old head. The light of the fire made a curious shadow behind his hooked fleshy nose. "Crow Caller, now, there's a man with Spirit Power."
Singing Wolf averted his eyes to keep from offending an elder. "I don't mean disrespect, Grandfathers, but many starved following Crow Caller's . . . 'dreams.' Broken Branch says his Dreaming is false."
"She's old."
"She's seen Dreamers," Singing Wolf countered gently, knowing this conversation was crucial. If he offended the dignity of the old ones, the clans would never follow them through the hole. "She saw the Dream in Wolf Dreamer's eyes."