The Dawn Country(30)

Koracoo looked around. Were Kinna and Shara husband and wife? The touching way they stared at each other suggested they might be.

Shara sighed and nodded. “War Chief Koracoo, do you have any objections to Wakdanek accompanying you on your journey?”

Koracoo gave him a hard look. “I welcome anyone who is good with a bow, Elder. Is he?”

Shara softly said, “He’s the best shot in the village, though he prefers Healing to killing. Go, Nephew. I pray that Tabaldak, the Owner of the world, watches over you.”

“Thank you, Elders. I’ll gather my things.” He trotted into the darkness.

Shara turned to Koracoo. “If you get into trouble, War Chief, look to Wakdanek. For fifteen summers, he has been studying the ways of the Healer. His skills in that regard may save more lives than his skill with a bow. Now, help me up.” She extended a hand.

Koracoo stood and supported the old woman as she rose to her feet. “If there are no further questions from the council, I’ll walk the war chief back.”

The three old men shook their heads.

Shara held Koracoo’s elbow as they headed toward the ravine. Odion followed a step behind.

“Your council is wise, Elder. I’m grateful to you.”

“Don’t be too grateful, Koracoo.” Her old eyes scanned the lip of the ravine, moving methodically through the boulders. “Our warriors want revenge, but I’m tired, as are the other elders. We just want to go back and bury our dead; then we must find a new place to rebuild our village. That’s why we did not demand to know the identities of the other members of your party. However, I suspect you have Flint warriors with you who were involved in the attack on our village. They are your enemies as much as ours. At some point, they will turn on you. Then, I wager, you’ll have more on your hands than you’ve bargained for.”

Koracoo hesitated. Finally, she carefully answered, “I won’t forget your words, Elder, and I’ll do my best to guard your nephew’s back.”

Shara clutched Koracoo’s elbow tighter, as though afraid of falling. “We will camp here tonight. But you should not, Koracoo. Get as far away as you can. I fear some of our young warriors may not agree with the council’s decision.”

Koracoo turned. “Odion, quickly, find your father and tell him the elders’ words.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Odion charged away, scrambling up the frosty slope toward the boulders where Gonda hid.





Twelve

Odion





The old leaves are icy. They slip beneath my moccasins as I climb the steep side of the ravine. Just before I reach the top, my feet go out from under me, and I have to claw at exposed tree roots to keep from rolling back down the slope. On all fours, I manage to crawl to the lip of the ravine and pull myself over. The scent of frozen earth is strong.

Breathing hard, I see Father standing with his bow half-drawn, aimed down at Shara where she talks with Mother. War Chief Cord is asleep, lying curled on his side against the boulder.

Father says, “I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”

I whisper, “Father, Elder Shara says they will camp here tonight, but we must not. She says she’s not sure her warriors will agree with the council’s decision to let us go.”

Father’s mouth drops open. “They’re letting us go? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Father. And Wakdanek is coming with us, to search for his daughter and the other Bog Willow children.”

Father releases the tension on his bowstring and sags against the rocks. “Unbelievable. I thought we were dead.”

“Should we wake War Chief Cord now?”

Father looks down at him. The man is sound asleep, his mouth ajar. “Not yet. He needs every moment he can get. We’ll wake him after your Mother has finished her talk with Elder Shara, and—”

Shara steps away from Mother, tips her head back, and howls like a wolf baying at Grandmother Moon. It is a lonesome sound that echoes through the cold night air. War Chief Cord does not even move. In the distance, a pack of real wolves yip, and howl back. Instantly, all the warriors hiding in the brush or behind rocks stand up and trot away, down the hill to assemble around the circle of elders.

Father looks amazed. “Those chilling calls sound so real, even the wolves answer them. Odion, find the other children. Bring them here immediately.”

“Yes, Father.”

I run away toward where Baji, Tutelo, and Hehaka hide in the boulders. As I near them, Tutelo pats her lips with her hand, telling me to be quiet; then she points. Her pretty face is tight with wonder.

I follow her hand to a cluster of downy juneberries. Some of the scrub trees are forty hands tall, but most are young, and more like shrubs. The undergrowth spreads two hundred hands in every direction through the boulders. The shriveled, reddish purple fruits that cling to the branches look pitch black in the moonlight.