Raven Hunter hunched, grabbing up a corner of the White Hide, kicking Broken Branch ahead of him. "Stop, Ice Fire. Another step, and I throw the White Hide into the fire." He balanced there, Ice Fire halting in his very tracks, a wary look on his handsome face.
"You don't know what that would do."
"Destroy the heart of the Mammoth People. I'd roast your soul!"
The Other warriors tensed, eyes darting back and forth,
fear replacing the haughty distrust in their eyes. Nervously they licked their lips, waiting for Ice Fire.
"And you'd bring the combined clans of the Mammoth People down on you." Ice Fire crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, the runners are already on the way. So far, only the White Tusk Clan has fought with you. But behind us comes the Buffalo Clan, behind them, the Round Hoof Clan, and last but most deadly comes the Tiger Belly Clan." He shook his head. "The White Hide is very important to us. The man who destroyed it would never be safe. We'd hunt him to the ends of the world.''
The frown tightened Raven Hunter's face. "But you said . . ."
Ice Fire smiled wistfully. "I lied."
Raven Hunter's cheek began to twitch. "Lied?" Then he laughed, feeling the Power of the White Hide. "But I fooled you. I was worthy of the Hide. I carried it here. By myself. Up over the rocks, through the ice."
Unminded, Broken Branch scuttled away into the darkness.
"And look at you." Ice Fire shook his head. "Wasted, thin, you look like a starving wolf pup."
Dancing Fox nodded soberly. "That's why you didn't follow me that day. It's destroyed you."
"It's sucked his soul away."
Raven Hunter flinched, heart pounding. No! What did the old man know? The Hide had kept him alive, not harmed him. "I'm—"
"And the caribou?" Ice Fire asked easily. "You turned your back on it. We read the story in the tracks, Raven Hunter. Obsessed with the Hide, you'd starve to serve it. Is that how you'd lead the People?"
Eagle Cries looked back and forth. "What's this about the clans? What about more of them coming?"
Like a wash of cold water, Raven Hunter understood. "You used me," he breathed. "You knew they'd follow! You knew!"
Ice Fire stood placidly, looking at him through narrowed eyes. "Of course. The clans of the Mammoth People needed a powerful excuse to follow you south through the ice. Only the White Hide would drive them to it."
Raven Hunter stiffened, weaving on his feet. A nauseated cramping gripped his stomach.
Eagle Cries and the rest shifted slowly away from the jittery Others. Dancing Fox stared about nervously, seeing the lines drawn, aware of the darts being fingered by both sides. Only Ice Fire seemed calm. He smiled serenely.
"There is still time," Eagle Cries added. "We kill the Others, take the White Hide back through the ice. If we left it there, maybe they'd leave us alone. Maybe—"
"No!" Red Flint cried out, ripping loose from Singing Wolf's arms and taking a step, only to crumple to the ground crying out as he reached for the White Hide. "It's not for Enemy hands. It's for the clans . . . the clans alone!"
"I say kill them." Eagle Cries had backed away, Crow Foot and the rest doing the same. The Others dropped into a defensive circle around Ice Fire, Dancing Fox pointedly outside their ring.
"Stop this!" she cried, stepping forward, arms uplifted.
"Our oath ends here," Eagle Cries reminded, a hard set to his lips. "We've brought them safely without raising weapons. But now they're here. My oath is dead!"
Mutters of agreement followed, darts clicking as eager fingers nocked them.
"Others." Raven Hunter sneered. "Brought to a camp of the People." He raised his fist over his head, shouting, "Kill them!''
Arms arched back, ready to cast their darts; the Others gripped their weapons for release. Raven Hunter laughed hysterically as he danced from foot to foot, the Power of the White Hide hazing the images of carnage in his mind.
"Wait!" Dancing Fox cried, hands up, standing between the sides. "Wait."
"Die!" Raven Hunter roared.
"He is here?" Wolf Dreamer asked softly as the hurried steps crunched on the snow.
One Who Cries lifted the black flap of the sweat lodge Wolf Dreamer had built of bowed willows and covered with hides. A white gout of steam rolled out.
"He's here," he assented. "You'd better come quick. Bro-
ken Branch sent me for you. She says there's going to be trouble. You've got to come."
Wolf Dreamer cocked his head, seeing the worried patterns of One Who Cries' soul; yellow, red, and orange, they wove together through the man. The bitter taste of the mushrooms coursed in his veins as he watched in fascination.