People of the Wolf(144)

Ice Fire nodded. "It works the best for all of us. Your people are beyond the ice. My young men don't die. I have peace and become the ultimate Power among the four clans. You have your status as the greatest of your warriors. You've broken the spirit of the Mammoth People, stolen their greatest totem, and left them behind." He spread his hands. "We both win."

Ideas raced in Raven Hunter's head. The bits of vision coming together in a whole. Wolf Dreamer destroyed, Dancing Fox would be his—forever. Her Power would be growing now, a fitting mate for him. A flush of excitement surged through him. Perhaps the vision wasn't false after all!

"She'll bear me a powerful child,'' he whispered, nodding to himself.

"Who?" Ice Fire asked. "You have a wife?"

Raven Hunter chuckled. "No, but I will."

"You sound excited by the prospect."

Raven Hunter squinted calculatingly. "I've seen her path, Other. I don't know what it means yet, but Dancing Fox's child will create a new future for the People. Some molding

of something new . . . something great. She's a key figure— a Power among the People—and I intend that she be mine and mine alone!"

' 'You can bend this great woman to your will?''

Raven Hunter nodded. "Oh, I've done it in the past. I'll find a way in the future. It hurt me to let her go. Hurt like nothing else ever has. But I saw it, even then. She had to be tested—shaped by suffering. That deep essence of her soul had to be hardened, like a dart shaft over a dry fire. But it was worth it. Now, she's ready to help me change the destiny of the People."

"And she's not for Wolf Dreamer?"

Raven Hunter barked a laugh. "He's locked in his Dreams. I've heard the story. He turned her down. Turned her down! The fool doesn't realize how important she is for the future!"

Ice Fire nodded, eyeing him curiously.

"Free me!" Raven Hunter demanded, heart pounding. "I'll take your White Hide. I myself will lead the People through the ice hole. You have a bargain, Ice Fire. Your people for mine."

Ice Fire rocked back on his heels, hard eyes veiled. "I" must warn you, the rest is up to you. The Hide is in the small shelter in the middle of the camp. Four young men, one from each clan, sleep around the Hide. Are you skilled enough? Can you get in silently and get out again without waking them? No, you can't kill the guards. Do that and my warriors will hunt you to the end—no matter where you run. Kill the guards, and you also destroy the Power of the White Hide."

Raven Hunter nodded, brow lined. "I am the best hunter among the People. I can do anything."

Ice Fire's smile spread, crinkling the lines around his mouth. "I'll also warn you, the Hide is heavy. One man can carry it with difficulty. You'll be sore-pressed. Among my people, the young men train constantly, hoping they're worthy of the honor of bearing the Hide. Drop it, treat it roughly or without respect, and the Hide will suck up your soul, little by little, until you find yourself floundering like a beached whale. Are you strong enough to carry the Hide? The Power it holds will destroy a man who shirks his responsibilities to it."

Raven Hunter glared his disdain. Who did this Ice Fire

I

think he was? "I'm ready to take the Power. I'm the greatest of my people. I fear no test. I'll be more than worthy."

Ice Fire nodded. "Yes, you're everything I'd feared you'd be." He reached down with a sharp chert flake and severed the bindings on Raven Hunter's arms.





Chapter 58



Dancing Fox stood uncomfortably at the edge of the hot pool, watching the bright water swirl and splash against the yellow-crusted rocks. Overhead, another gray day promised freezing rain. The billowing cloud of geyser steam rolled out, pushed toward the Big Ice by the cruel wind. Dismal weather; the misty air reflected her own emotions—damp, shadowed, without joy or light, or warmth.

Behind her, the camp of the People looked worn and frayed. As they scuttled back and forth, bundled figures worked at stuffing berries into bags before the humid air could spoil them. Drying racks were hurriedly stripped of the remaining meat. A reality of famine had reared its head as hunter after hunter returned empty-handed. So few caribou had been slain. Only the old bull mammoth paced the hills now, trumpeting his loneliness to the wind-blasted rocks. The musk ox had been hunted out long ago.

"It's the ice—or nothing," she told herself again, irritated by the growling of her stomach. She'd restricted her meals, setting an example of abstinence for her people. They watched soberly, rationing their intake.

A bitter gnawing ate inside her as she glanced at Heron's shelter, seeing One Who Cries emerge and head straight for her.