A blackness, a foul corruption, stirred the silent crowd. Wolf Dreamer girded himself.
"Come forth, darkness! Our time is now. Our place is here. That which you've sought stands before you."
The black lesion among the People wavered, shimmering, changing shape as a space opened around it. The Dream spinning fire around the edges, Crow Caller's shape solidified.
Wolf Dreamer tensed, aware of those eyes, one black, one white. One of sight, one of darkness, opposites crossed. Each a lie.
"You have no purpose here, witch man," Crow Caller's ancient voice rolled in Wolf Dreamer's mind. "Go, boy. Leave us. You interrupt the Renewal. We've tired of your games and claims. We ..."
Wolf Dreamer reached forward, grabbing the darkness with his hands, feeling the horror of the darkness, the confusion, the fear of such a corrupt soul. Like the sucking mouths of the Soul Eaters of the Long Dark, the blackness reached for him, trying to encircle his soul, to choke it away, drown it in the shadows of corruption. Wolf Dreamer weaved, darting this way and that, spearing the blackness with shafts of Light, driving it back, forcing the insidious feelers from his soul, his life.
The corrupted filth staggered away, seeking to flee, but he held it, surrounding the shapeless mass with Light, exposing it to Father Sun. The shadows shivered and writhed in the brilliance. He twisted it, and heard a cry of agony before he cast the thing down before him.
"Recognize yourself for what you are, Crow Caller!" he thundered. "Go! Cleanse yourself of the filth and rot which have possessed you. It is not too late to save your soul. Purify it for Father Sun."
The blackness shivered, backing away, crawling slowly to its feet.
"I curse you," came the voice. Hate battered at Wolf Dreamer's mind. A vile stench of wrongness tainted his nostrils. The blackness waved arms, tracing symbols for which Crow Caller had no understanding.
' 'I condemn your soul to be buried! I condemn it!'' Crow Caller shrieked, frantic.
Around him, the People flooded back, as if washed by the waves of hatred.
"You have nothing within," said Wolf Dreamer's voice. "No strength, no Power of soul. Only blackness and rot power your words." As he spoke, the soul of Crow Caller split open before his eyes. "Ah . . . I see. Look within yourself, Crow Caller. See the lies? See the fear? Look what you have done to yourself. See what you would do to others! Look inside yourself!"
"No!" Crow Caller protested, the voice forced. "I condemn you! Hear me? Condemned to be buried—your soul lost in darkness! Trapped by the earth to . . . to . . ."
Wolf Dreamer closed, the Dream spinning out, showing him the way. Crow Caller danced back, the blackness quivering, fearing exposure.
"Look, within," he repeated. "You fear only yourself, Crow Caller. Your greatest death is ridicule. See the mockery you've made of yourself? Don't fear me, Crow Caller. Fear yourself. Fear what you've made your soul into. The lie you live is that of a coward—a man who's never faced himself!"
"No!" Crow Caller growled, his soul ripping at itself, growing angry. "I curse you, Runs In Light! Curse you!"
Wolf Dreamer straightened. "Runs In Light is no more."
Before him, Crow Caller produced a white bone, seemingly from out of thin air. The People gasped.
"With this, I curse you, Runs In Light!" His voice wavered, the cracks weakening it, causing it to tremble. "I blow your soul to the Long Dark!"
Crow Caller leaned forward, blowing hard through the hollow tube of bone.
Wolf Dreamer backed at the stench of the breath, hearing a horrified outcry from the People. He waved at the foul putrid air, fighting the sudden urge to vomit from the corruption.
From his pouch, he took a handful of the yellow crusted • rock that formed along the banks of the geyser stream. Like Heron had showed him, he offered it to the four directions. At the top of his lungs, he shouted, "I clear the corruption from the air!"
He threw the yellow-caked stone into the fire, a stinking puff of yellow-green smoke arising. People backpedaled.
' 'And I blow it away!'' Wolf Dreamer took the white crystals, laboriously gathered from under the dung piles, and poured them into the fire. They sparkled, hissed, and flared in an explosion like water on coals.
"You are darkness!" Crow Caller hissed. "Dark and bad. You are death for the People! Go back to darkness, witch!"
"Darkness?" Wolf Dreamer smiled. "I am Light. I am one with fire. You are illusion." So saying, he bent, driving his fingers deeply into the bed of coals, hearing the cries of the People as he lifted them high.
"I cleanse myself of your corruption, Crow Caller." The Dream spun coldly around him as he rubbed the blackness Crow Caller had blown on him away, willing it into the coals as he scrubbed his arms and face.