The Broken Land(39)
“Sindak said you’d probably dismiss us,” Disu replied. “He said you’ve never known what’s good for you.”
Despite the circumstances, Hiyawento laughed. “What else did he say?”
Saponi took a few instants to look up into the falling rain. It coated his hood and face. Oddly, his wet pockmarks shone more brightly than the rest of his skin. “He said that he feared this was just the beginning.”
Sixteen
Sky Messenger
I stand beneath the porch of the Deer Clan longhouse, huddling against the wind. The storm is wild today, with an icy flush of wind that batters the forest and sends colorful leaves tumbling across the wet plaza. Every small depression shimmers, filled with water. Gitchi lies at my feet curled into a ball with his tail over his white muzzle.
From inside the house, I hear Mother say, “The most we will agree to is half of our walnut crop and one-quarter of our hickory nuts. But in exchange, we expect Sky Messenger to be allowed to freely pursue his calling as a Dreamer.”
These negotiations are torture. My clan is giving up almost everything for my vision. If only I …
“We already have fifteen Dreamers in the surrounding five villages. Why do we need another?”
Exasperated, Mother says, “None of our other holy people have seen this coming darkness. Clearly the Spirits have chosen to speak through Sky Messenger about our future.”
“Really? It suggests something far different to me. He’s always been an imaginative boy. I think his visions are just so much wind.” Matron Kittle’s voice is scornful. “This one thing is not negotiable. By his actions he has forfeited his position as deputy war chief, but he must take up his weapons again and be prepared for the war trail.”
My fists clench.
In a cold voice, Mother replies, “The way he serves the clan is not your affair, Kittle. The Yellowtail Village council has already decided that he will serve as apprentice to Old Bahna. Sky Messenger is skilled in his understanding of Uki and Otkon, the two halves of Spirit Power that inhabit the world, but Bahna says he needs training to understand how to use them to best benefit the People.”
“If he wishes to marry my granddaughter, he will …”
I force my thoughts away from the anger and political maneuverings to the Spirit Power that inhabits all things. I feel it. It breathes all around me, passing through me, to Gitchi, and spreading out, inhabiting everything at once, tying me to the vision like an invisible net. All things are inextricably connected, though most of us have little awareness of the fact. Uki is a serene, hopeful power, never harmful to human beings, while Otkon is as unpredictable as a Trickster; it can either be beneficial or lethal. Though each half contains the same amount of light and darkness, Uki’s half of the day runs from midnight to noon, while Otkon’s operates from noon to midnight. When combined, the halves are potent portals to spiritual awareness, but new Dreamers must be careful with Otkon. I know this from personal experience. My Dream awakens me most often before midnight, during Otkon time, and I can never predict what I will do when I lurch to my feet. One night I grabbed my club and frantically raced through the forest like a madman. Another time, I woke and couldn’t move. I was paralyzed until midnight, when my muscles started working again.
Instinctively, I reach down to touch the four Power bundles tied to my belt. Each is painted a different color—representing the sacred directions—and contains precious items given to me by my Spirit Helper while I wandered the forest. Old Bahna is right. I have only the vaguest notion of how to properly use Uki and Otkon. If I do not learn how to balance the powers, I may harm my People, rather than help them.
An old woman with white hair and a severely pointed chin approaches. She grumbles, “Traitor!” spits at my feet, and ducks beneath the leather curtain into the Deer Clan longhouse.
Shame courses through me. When most people look at me, all they see is a disgraced deputy war chief with no weapons, a man of some previous renown who betrayed his war party and ran away. Despite the fact that different versions of my vision are being circulated through the village, many do not believe. For now, I have only one responsibility: to help Mother and the council secure this marriage with the Deer Clan. Kittle is the most powerful matron in the nation. I understand now, after many discussions with the Yellowtail Council, that I must have her support to have any chance of building the alliances we will need in the future. Alliances with peoples who currently hate us and want to destroy us … as we do them.
“My granddaughter”—Matron Kittle’s voice seems to explode between my souls—“may one day lead all the clans of the Standing Stone nation. She deserves better than your pathetic son, Koracoo.”