The Broken Land(44)

Sky Messenger massaged his forehead. “All right. I’ll be leaving right after the betrothal ceremony. Who will inform High Matron Kittle?”

Bahna smiled. “I will, Grandson.”





Eighteen

Sky Messenger





A hoarse cry rips from my lungs. I jerk upright in the bedding hides, panting. My sweat-drenched bare skin shimmers in the firelight reflecting from the walls of an unfamiliar longhouse. I don’t know where I am. I … This is the Deer Clan longhouse. Yes, I’m betrothed.

All down the length of the house, dogs bark, while people grab for weapons. Gitchi, who sleeps beside me, softly licks my hand.

“What’s happening?” a man shouts.

“Nothing,” I respond. “Forgive me. My soul was walking in a f-fog.” It’s the only way I can describe the gray shimmering world I’ve just left. In my heart, I’m still falling, falling … .

“Well go back to sleep!”

Weapons clatter softly as they are returned to their places within reach of the owners, and warriors crawl beneath their hides again.

Taya braces herself on one elbow to stare at me. Long black hair frames her oval face. Her large dark eyes and straight nose glow faintly orange in the light of the dying fires.

“Are you going to wake me every night while we’re on our journey to the Dawnland?” she whispers.

“I certainly hope not.” I blink at the longhouse for a few moments longer, studying the bark walls, the corn, beans, and squash plants hanging from the roof poles … convincing myself this is the real world, not the cloud-sea or the eerie darkness. Then I lie down and pull the hides up over my bare chest.

Gitchi props his head across my stomach, just letting me know he’s close. His yellow eyes blink sleepily at me. I stroke his soft neck.

Taya whispers, “Your screeching is probably going to get us killed on the trail.” She flops over, turning her back to me.

The words make me long to say something unkind. I do not, of course. She’s probably just beginning to realize that she’s going to be alone with me for many days. She may be worried sick that her grandmother has gotten her into more than she can handle.

As her relatives begin to slumber again, I inhale the smoky air and listen to the dogs circling until they flop down and heave deep sighs.

Since I returned, the Dream has started coming more often. Two or three times a night. Why?

There’s something I’ve forgotten. I have to remember.

With my hand still on Gitchi, I shift to study the back of Taya’s head. Her long black hair spreads over the deer hides in a glossy wealth. The time is coming when all shadows die. How can I ever explain that horror to her?





Nineteen

High Matron Tila clung tightly to her granddaughter’s arm. She propped her walking stick, took two steps, breathed, then took two more, forcing herself to keep moving across the cold plaza.

“We’re almost there, Grandmother,” Zateri said as she guided Tila around small rocks and indentations. Short and skinny, her granddaughter had a flat face with a wide nose. She’d twisted her long black hair into a bun at the back of her head and secured it with a polished tortoiseshell comb.

“This will be a hard day for you,” Tila said weakly. “But it will be an important day.”

“Grandmother, please tell me. What did you see in your Dream when the False Faces came to you?”

Tila leaned on her walking stick while she wheezed. She could never seem to get enough air these days. Elder Brother Sun had just awakened. A faint blue gleam painted the eastern horizon. High above them, the brightest campfires of the dead continued to sparkle. “You wore the same white cape you have on today.” Blue wolf paw prints encircled the bottom of Zateri’s cape. “You looked pretty. Calm. You made the right decision.”

“Which was?”

Tila smiled and gingerly took another step toward the Women’s Council house, a round structure less than twenty paces from the Wolf longhouse. This morning those twenty paces seemed to encompass the entire world. Tila made soft pained sounds as she moved. The cool morning breeze didn’t help. It fluttered the hood of her wolfhide cape and blew thin strands of short white hair into her eyes. She didn’t have the strength to shove them away.

“Wait just a moment while I pull back the leather door hanging, Grandmother.”

Tila braced both hands on her walking stick and took the moment to survey the village. They’d moved to a new location, as they did every ten or twelve summers, just six moons ago. The four longhouses looked fresh and clean, their bark walls still brown, not gray with age. Arranged in an oval around the plaza were the smaller clan houses, which served as a meeting place for the individual clans: Bear, Wolf, Turtle, Hawk, Deer, and Snipe. Three other houses nestled to the north, the large village council house, the slightly smaller Women’s Council house, and the prisoner’s house.