"Watch your tongue, youngster," she snapped. "We taught you better.''
Chagrined, he dropped his eyes, feeling the flush of embarrassment.
"How'd you learn to hunt? Seal Paw took you out. You listened to the stories—watched the animals. You had teachers."
"Teachers ..." He sighed, closing his eyes, feeling the threads of destiny pulling tight around him, so tight he couldn't breathe.
"Of course, teachers. Heron offered, didn't she?"
He nodded.
"She's the best. That fool Crow Caller? A sham, a mocker hanging on to his position by making things up. Oh, sure, he heals, but he doesn't cure. You get my meaning, boy? Like, take old Gray Rock. Remember when her tooth went bad? Any simpleton can punch a hole to drain pus."
"But the People still listen to him."
She sighed, gesturing irritably with a clawlike hand. "They've forgotten what real Dreamers are like. I'll tell you, boy, we don't have Dreamers anymore. Not like the old days. Maybe it's the world changing, but People forget . . . and the old ones who remember are fewer and fewer. These young sprouts—like Raven Hunter—they don't know how powerful Dreaming can be!"
"Powerful. . . more powerful than the Monster Children's War."
She sniffed and nodded. "You do know, eh? And you're still tagging along behind the band, going to sneak into the clan gatherings and make believe it'll all go away? It won't."
He hugged himself fiercely, as though he might disappear any instant into the void expanding in his breast. "I know. And it's tearing me apart."
She smacked her gums and rocked back and forth. "Well,
do something about it. You've only got two choices. Forget it all, go back, find a nice wife with a good disposition ... and hope the Others don't stick your guts with a dart. Or follow the call Wolf gave you—save the People.'"
"And lose myself?"
"No, young idiot. Find yourself! It's high time you quit fooling around. You're like a fox with two rabbit holes, unsure which to watch. Choose. Now."
She braced her hands on her hips, watching through hard eyes. "It doesn't get any easier. Only harder. You put off, and put off, and next thing you know, you've got a wife and four kids and you've never taken responsibility for yourself in all your life—and you'll never be able to again."
His thoughts spiraled in confusion. The old woman watched, a keen light in her eyes. On the far horizon, a pack of wolves loped, running south. He grimaced after them, feeling the hurried beating of their hearts inside his own chest, seeing the world through their eyes for a moment. He tried to swallow, but it stuck in his throat like a swollen rawhide knot.
"Let's go, Grandmother." He said it slowly, feeling like his life had been uprooted, blown away in Wind Woman's chill breath.
She chuckled dryly and patted his shoulder as they started back down the trail.
Chapter 24
Ice Fire shivered, sensing hands on his body, voices slowly penetrating the numbing haze in his mind.
"Wake up!" someone yelled in his ear. Red Flint. No one else had a scratchy voice like that.
He blinked his eyes open, seeing hides and feet and knees where they pressed into the soft ground.
"What happened?" His voice cracked and broke. Red Flint bent down to hear him.
Out of the blur of vision, he could see the sky, puffed with white clouds. The sun slanted down from an angle—early morning. The camp lay just behind him from the sound of women and children. Around him, scrubby wormwood clung to the thin gravelly soil. The southern horizon seemed to glow orange, like red filaments of ... webbing. . . .
Red Flint spread his hands in mystification. "I don't know. You were walking out toward the hill again and you cried out. We all saw you spin around and stare into the sun. Then you screamed, raising your arms and batting at the air, like flies or something were swarming around you."
"Like you were batting away darts in battle," Walrus offered, frowning fearfully. "You know . . . struggling."
Ice Fire tensed, the vision coming back. "Yes," he gasped, seeing the blood-red threads searching for him. "I remember."
"Tell us," Red Flint pleaded. "What did you see?"
"Red spindles, like strands of a web, spinning out from-the south. The Enemy Dreamer was there, spinning the web-like some strange spider."
"Do they make magic against us?" Sheep's Tail demanded, clattering his darts against the ground.
"They'll wish they hadn't!" Horse Cry added vehemently. "They'll see! They'll see what Mammoth People do to those who—"
"No," Ice Fire croaked, fighting his way to sit up, still dazed as he cataloged the faces around him and braced himself on his arms. "It wasn't magic against us. I was afraid at first. Feared the web he'd spun. But in the end . . . yes, in the end it wrapped around me. Drawing me, drawing me south to the ... to the . . ." He frowned, shaking his head.