brats like you to lose your manners and act like maggots in the body of the People!"
The youth turned on his heel—eyes downcast in shame— and ran. The rest of his group stared wide-eyed and broke after a heartbeat, pounding away after him.
"Looks like my fame has spread far and wide." Dancing Fox sighed. "This may not be pleasant."
Talon turned to face her. "You knew that before we came here. But don't be so worried. After Crow Caller killed so many, people will think twice about his curse."
"We'll see."
They plodded forward, weaving through the array of hide lodges, seeing hundreds of new faces.
"Look over there," Talon said, pointing. "Isn't that One Who Cries and Singing Wolf?"
Fox held her breath, searching the faces of the people near the two men, searching for Runs In Light. "I don't see . . ."
"I don't see him either. But the fact that two of his cousins are here means he led them safely. They didn't die."
Pride welled in her chest, a broad smile lighting her face. "Yes, it does."
Talon clucked her lips, muttering incoherently under her breath. "Well, let's go find your hero. Maybe he'll let us move right into his lodge, eh? You figure he needs an old woman to sew for him? Cook? Maybe tell your brat kids the old stories?"
Dancing Fox grinned, patting the old woman's shoulder. "After Seagull's death, I'm sure he'd be grateful."
At One Who Cries' shelter, she called out politely. Green Water ducked through, waving at the horde of flies, a slow smile coming to her face. "Dancing Fox!"
"Green Water! You lived. The Wolf Dream ... it was true."
Green Water's warm hug enfolded her first, Talon next. She stepped back, looking Fox up and down, her broad face beaming. "Yes, the Dream kept us alive. As to the hole in the Big Ice, who knows? But we found a haven from the Others."
Dancing Fox's eyes cast around hopefully. "And Runs In Light?"
"He's not here."
"Not ..." Her heart stopped.
In her calm way, Green Water took her hand and motioned for them to enter the low tent. "He's stayed at old Heron's to learn to become a great Dreamer."
"Heron!" Talon gasped.
Green Water nodded. "Yes, she's more than a legend."
As she sat down on thick robes, Dancing Fox looked her confusion at Talon, seeing reservation in the old woman's eyes, some veiled secret. ' 'Why would he stay with her? He's already a great Dreamer."
Green Water leaned forward, earnest eyes on hers. "He wants to be as great as Heron. Better even, maybe."
Talon slapped gnarled age-spotted hands on her knees. Her eyes met Fox's, challenging. "If that's the case, girl, he'll never have time for you."
"I don't—"
' 'Dreaming!'' Talon hissed to herself, eyes focused someplace beyond the shelter. "Real Dreaming! The People need a Dreamer. Been so long since we had one. And now . . . who'd think it would be Runs In Light?"
"But I don't—"
Talon started, attention returning to the present. "No, of course you don't! Girl, if he's going to be a Dreamer, he's become a man possessed. Oh, he'll know you, and if he really cares for you, he might even be swayed from his Dreams. But know this, Fox. Even if you win him back for a while, draw him away, he'll never be all yours. Never."
A cold hand tightened on the bottom of her heart. "Why not?"
"Because the visions cage a Dreamer's soul and never let it go."
Chapter 28
Rocky ridges surrounded the small camp, boulders jutting high into the cold night air. Small bushes grew in the crevices, leaves silvered by starlight.
Five men, tall, long-legged, walked in graceful single file through the rocks. Hoods dangled over their shoulders, the blank eyes of wolves, foxes, and eagles staring from the hides wrapping their heads. Their eyes searched in the manner of hunters. Mammoth hide wrapped around their loins like thick belts. Long darts, fletched with eagle feathers, were clutched in bony hands.
They didn't see Raven Hunter or the rest of the young men hidden in the boulders. Fierce they might be, but they also walked arrogantly, heads high.
Heart thudding in his chest, every limb vibrant with excitement, Raven Hunter waited. Soon, now. Very soon. The first man had walked well within the trap. Wait. None must escape.
Despite his fear-dry mouth and the charged blood rushing in his veins, Raven Hunter floated on a crest of exaltation. Here, before him, walked the murderers of his people. Now, at last, he would strike back. By this act, the People would prove themselves, and under his leadership. Despite his youth, he would step into the circles of power and decision where he belonged. A feeling of invincibility and premonition burned in his breast.