"Spirit knowledge took the place of Bear Hunter, eh?"
Their eyes held, Heron's going soft and watery. "Yes."
"That's why you sent the boy away? You're going to fight this . . . thing?"
Heron paused, biting her lip, brow furrowed. "He'd distract me. Maybe see something he's not ready for yet. Canny, that one, sees things too clearly for his years sometimes. No, he might be hurt by all this."
"What are you going to do?"
"Hush! I need to see, don't you understand?"
Firelight flickered over Broken Branch's taut face, her eyes fearful. "You need to see. What of it?"
"You, you're of it." Heron arched her back, filling her lungs deeply, beginning the preparation.
"I'm of it?"
"Unfortunately."
"What do you—"
"Go stay below the pool. I don't know. ..." She stopped when a quaver touched her voice. Gathering herself, she finished strongly. "I don't know how long it'll take, but don't come back until I call you. Understand? If you were to interrupt, break my concentration ... I don't know what might happen."
Broken Branch got slowly to her feet, shaking her head. "You're a crazy old curlew, Heron. I'm going. Do your Dreaming, you old—"
"Broken Branch?"
"What?"
"About Bear Hunter ..."
Broken Branch pursed her lips, dropping her eyes. "I was young then, the juices of life, ran hot in my body. My heart ached for him. What I did—"
"Did you make him happy?"
"He never bedded another. When he went hunting, he ran . all the way home to be with me and our children. We talked , . . laughed. Our children all lived to have families of their own. He used to love to rock the grandchildren on his knees at night."
"How did he die?"
"It was quick. Mammoth swung his trunk, Bear Hunter lost his footing and couldn't get out of the way."
Heron nodded in the long silence. "I could never have given him the things you did. Dreamers can never really love, Broken Branch. It's . . . it's a curse, you see. Dreamers who love destroy themselves or those they love. It's a fatal flaw. I tried to tell Wolf Dreamer. I hope he understands."
"Either he did or he didn't. You tried."
Heron nodded, smiling wistfully. "Get out of here. Whatever you hear, whatever you see, leave me alone! Understand? Alone ... or you'll kill me."
Broken Branch's wrinkled mouth worked. "I'll not meddle in your Dreams, Heron." She lifted the hide flaps and disappeared into the bright midday sun.
Heron watched the flap wave slowly back and forth. She hesitated, dread making her hands tremble. "Get up, you old
fool," she cursed herself for delaying. "There's no other way."
Jaw thrust forward, she stood, reaching for the mushrooms. Gently, she laid them near the fire, then grasped her bundle of willow stems, rich and red, and threw a handful into the gut bag hanging from the tripod near the fire. As they absorbed the water, their pungent scent filled the shelter.
She sucked in a shuddering breath and stared at the mushrooms, speaking intimately. "How long has it been? It was the night Wolf Dreamer called to me from the mists. You remember, don't you?"
The bag of mushrooms glowed darkly in the flames.
"We wrestled like two bears. ..." She swallowed hard, feeling the fear in her gut widen. Her voice came barely audible, "You almost killed me. . . . Remember?"
She jerked her eyes from the bag and poked at the fire, getting the coals to even out. At the fringes of her consciousness, she could feel the presence of Broken Branch out below the pool. A distraction, still a distraction.
"Concentrate!" she reprimanded harshly. "She won't disturb you. She said she wouldn't."
Behind her, she heard a soft murmuring of voices and turned to stare at the mushrooms; they were calling her, beckoning like a lover.
"I'm coming," she choked out. Tears welled powerfully.
With shaking hands, she reached for the soaked willow stems. Chanting the old song, she cast the first handful into the flames. They sizzled wildly, steam and sacred smoke twisting through the soot-thick vent above.
Dropping her face in her hands, she fought the terror writhing in her breast.
The mushrooms whispered, their eerie voices echoing from the cold stone walls.
Chapter 38
As darkness fell, the brilliant lights of the Monster Children's War stained the sky, bands of orange, red, blue, and green undulating across the heavens. The People stopped to set up camp. Babies wailed their hunger, dogs yapping as men and women dropped their packs and went about gathering wood for supper fires.
"Where's Talon?" Dancing Fox asked, looking around.