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People of the Wolf(30)

By:W. Michael Gear


A hollowness throbbed below her heart. If only she could reach Runs In Light, he'd help her, comfort her. Knowing that only made her struggle for survival more unbearable.

The singing inside stopped suddenly.

Twining fingers tightly in her parka, she waited, fearing the worst. Feet crunched softly on snow behind her.

"She was a good woman," Raven Hunter said regretfully. "I'm sorry Jumping Hare isn't here."

Her back muscles crawled. "I wish I could—"

"You can't," he said sympathetically. "They fear your cursed soul would interfere with her rise to the Blessed Star People."

She looked up at him. His brooding eyes gleamed darkly in the reflected moonlight. "Why did you come out?"

He crouched beside her in the dark and she could feel his warmth on .her face. "I had another glimpse in there."

"Of what?"

"We'll see the death of the People, you and I. Unless something is done."

"So?" she spat hatefully.

Wails rose sharply in the shelter to pierce the wind. Bitterly, she murmured, "She's dead."

She closed her eyes, trying not to think of the dead they'd left behind. Old Talon would be next. She already staggered-on wobbly legs. Where would the deaths end?

"I placed some meat in your pack. It's not much. Some strips I salvaged from a winter-killed buffalo. What the wolves left, I cleaned up before the crows got it. I'll bring the bones in tomorrow. There's enough bone butter there to keep another couple of souls with their bodies for a while longer."

She ignored him, staring dry-eyed at the shelter, remembering the little scraps of food Gray Rock had left from her share of the band's scavenged meals. Such a welcome kindness. Gray Rock had been one of the few to share, to talk guardedly and wink occasional support.

"I'll miss Gray Rock," Fox whispered miserably. "She never forgot that I needed to hear a kind voice on occasion."

Raven Hunter sat silently, listening. She appreciated that, knowing she'd pay later when he crawled into her robes. Someone had begun to sob uncontrollably inside the shelter. Numbly, Dancing Fox stood. In a moment, Raven Hunter, too, got to his feet.

"I suppose you'll come by to force me again tonight?"

He shrugged. "You have no one to speak for you. I don't hurt you. With Gray Rock gone, who else but me will speak

kindly to you? Besides, I leave you enough to get by. You eat better in disgrace than Crow Caller's pets in fine social standing."

"I hate you, you know." She walked away.

"I'm not your enemy, Dancing Fox."

"Then what are you? My keeper? Why didn't you let me just go? Why drag me back here?''

He walked slowly, snow crunching under the soft layers of his long-booted feet. "Because I love you. I won't have you dying in the snow."

Anger swept her. "You don't love me!" She spat into the snow to emphasize her point. "I'm nothing more than amusement for you. And I can't do a maggot-cursed thing about it."

Her skin prickled at the sudden, crazed look in his eyes. He smiled sweetly. "But this way you're mine alone."

She took a step backward. "Yes, you've seen to that. You've tied me as firmly as if you'd bound me with a mammoth-gut thong like some prize bear dog."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, ignoring her flinch as he turned her to face him. In tones cutting as obsidian he remarked, "I'll tell you once again, I love you. One day, you'll understand.*'

"Take your hands off me."

He tightened the grip on her shoulder. "And I need you. I'm the hope of the People. I've seen it, you understand? I just . . . just can't see it all. But I have to keep the Others back or they'll bury the People."

"Your delusions will be the death of us all."

He sighed heavily, shoulders dropping. Head down, he added, "You can hate me all you want. I have to save the People. Just me . . . and a strange man. Face-to-face, he gives me something. Something that changes the People." He stretched out his arms. "I don't know what. Only that my son—"

She started, eyes widening. "Is that why you want me? For a son?"

"I don't know for cer—"

Her move caught him off guard, her ringing slap staggering him. He fingered his cheek. A slow smile crossed his lips in the subtle glow of the night. "The vision is incomplete, but

I've already seen some of the flashes come true. Like finding you in the snow that day. I'm betting my very life and the lives of our people, that the rest will come and I'll meet this strange man. He's like . . . like ..."

"I've heard enough," she spat. "You're crazy!" She turned as Crow Caller led the way from the shelter, the others in his wake, singing as they carried the remains of Gray Rock to the top of the drift, singing her soul to the Blessed Star People.