Children of the Dawnland (North America's Forgotten Past Series) (11 page)

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Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear,W. Michael Gear

BOOK: Children of the Dawnland (North America's Forgotten Past Series)
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H
IGH ABOVE ME, through the crystal green water, I see the overturned litter. The buffalo are dragging it away … .
I fight to swim, but my arms and legs feel like granite. They’re so heavy.
As I sink deeper, the water ripples and shines. I’m not going to make it across the river into the Land of the Dead.
I’m drowning.
Do the ghosts across the river see me? In my soul, I start crying out to my dead ancestors.
“Grandmother? Grandmother, help me! Uncle Badger! Where are you?”
My long hair spreads around me as I sink. It looks like fluttering black tentacles.
“Father?” I silently scream. “Father, please!”
In the water above me, a hazy image forms, a man’s face. At first I can’t see it very well; then the image sharpens … and I see Screech Owl. He’s watching me with deep sadness in his dark eyes. He must know I have failed.
“Screech Owl! I’m dying. Help me! I don’t want to be a Spirit dreamer!”
I hit bottom and lie in the sand staring up. The light is fading. It’s growing dark.
At the edge of my vision, I see something.
A green shimmer slithers through the water. Beady golden eyes glint. It’s coming straight at me, moving fast, its tail whipping.
Like an arrow, it shoots inside me, and I feel it wriggling around my heart.
I can’t even scream.
Another face forms, right above me, and I hear a voice say, “Swim this way, Twig. This way.”
I swim after him and make it to shore. I’m dripping wet and icy cold. He stares at me while I cough and cough. Two black braids frame his oval face. He is younger than I am, maybe eight summers, and is dressed in strange hides. The red face of Wolf is painted on his chest.
“Who are you?” I croak.
“My name is Runs In Light. I’m the Spirit Helper of lost children. Come with me, Twig.”
“Where are we going?”
“On a dream-walk. Just like warriors go on battle-walks, dreamers have to confront their enemies, too. I’ll take you. But you must hurry.”
I study the curious hides he wears. For all of their beauty, they are thick and covered with a black hair I have never seen before, as if they come from an animal that doesn’t live in my world.
“What is your shirt made from?”
“It’s giant bison hide,” he says, lifting his arms. Then he points to his belt. “And this is cheetah hide.”
“What are those animals? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Come with me, and you can see them if you’d like. We’re going to take a dream-walk to long ago.”
Runs In Light strides out into the moonlight and stands on the narrow lip of rock that overlooks the Land of the Dead. Gingerly, I follow. Above me, a vast, glittering bowl of Star People spreads to the ends of the earth.
“Where do these giant bison and cheetahs live?”
“Far away … and a long time ago. When the threads of the One Life pulled apart, the world changed and they died.”
“You mean they’re all gone?”
He nods wistfully. “Yes. Every time a dreamer fails, a part of Life dies.”
Sadness fills me. My soul seems to remember Giant Bison and Cheetah, but dimly, like the recollection of being born that is buried deep inside me. “If they’re gone, how can we see them?”
“Spider will help us. You can be a great dreamer, Twig, just like your father, but you must see for yourself what happens when a dreamer gives up.”
Runs In Light extends his hand and blows across his palm. Strands of light shoot from his fingertips and lance across the darkness like a spiderweb iced in blue fire.
My mouth gapes when he trots out onto the swaying web. “Please, Twig, we must go now.”
“I—I’m coming.”
I test the blue web with the toe of my moccasin before biting my lip and racing out after Runs In Light.
H
ALFMOON DREW HIS buckskin cape more tightly about his shoulders and ducked beneath the flap into Chief Gill’s lodge. Fifty hands across, it was the largest lodge in Buffalobeard Village, and the most opulent. Hundreds of prayer feathers hung from the pole frame, twisting gently in the wind, and painted rawhide shields lined the walls. Each bore the colorful image of one of Gill’s Spirit Helpers: Bear, Lion, and Condor. In the rear, a stack of buffalo hides the height of a man lay folded.
“Good evening,” Halfmoon said, and squinted. Though
he saw better after Father Sun descended into the underworld at night, his vision was still blurry.
The three other elders already sat around the fire. The white-haired old women, Bandtail and Snapper, sat on either side of Gill. They both looked angry. Gill, on the other hand, looked tired. He had a golden elk hide over his shoulders.
“Good evening,” Gill greeted them. “Please sit down and dip yourself a cup of tea.”
Halfmoon sat on the buffalo hide near Bandtail. Though his vision was fading, he could still make out her bulbous nose and puckered mouth. She looked like she wanted to spit upon him for calling this late council session.
Gill gestured to Halfmoon. “Since you called us together to talk about your granddaughter’s dreams, Halfmoon, please begin.”
Halfmoon reached for the wooden cup and dipped it into the tea bag hanging on the tripod at the edge of the fire. The scent of tundra wildflowers rose. “Forgive me for being late. I’ve been speaking with our warriors most of today; then I met with my daughter, our Spirit dreamer, before coming here. She tells me that my granddaughter, Twig, is now studying with Screech Owl.”
A sour expression came over Bandtail’s face. “Yes, so?”
Halfmoon sipped his tea, stalling to allow them more time to think about what he’d just said. Their village had not sent a dreamer away to study for thirteen summers. It
was a rare and important occasion, though the pinched expressions on Bandtail’s and Snapper’s faces told him they didn’t seem to grasp that fact.
He sat up straighter. “I know this council decided that we should not pack up and move our village, but I must tell you that Twig has been having powerful Spirit dreams that should make this council reconsider.”
“Bah!” Bandtail said. “She’s too young to have Spirit dreams. She is not even a woman yet.”
Halfmoon nodded. “I realize it is unusual for a child to have Spirit dreams so young. But do not forget that Cobia—”
Snapper interrupted, “Twig is not Cobia. Twig has always been a normal child. Cobia was terrifying from the instant you brought her here. If we’d been smart, we would have driven her away long before she had a chance to kill Minnow.”
“Yes,” Bandtail agreed. “Twig is just a girl. Power does not hover around her like it did Cobia.”
Gill held up a hand, asking for silence. “Please, before we make any judgments, perhaps we should allow Halfmoon to tell us what his granddaughter has dreamed.”
Bandtail and Snapper whispered to each other for a time; then Bandtail flicked a hand at Halfmoon. “Go on. Tell us.”
Halfmoon set the wooden cup on a hearthstone before saying, “Twig has been having the same dream for some time. She sees a green flaming ball of light roll through
the sky right over her head. Screech Owl told her that it might mean the Star People are going to make war on us.”
Bandtail exhaled hard. “And what does young Twig suggest we do to stop this terrible event?”
“Twig thinks we should move west. As soon as possible.”
Snapper leaned forward and shook a crooked finger at Halfmoon. “You’ve been trying to get us to move for over half a moon. The last time you told us we had to move south because the Thornback raiders were going to attack us. But that hasn’t happened.”
“Yet,” Halfmoon said. “It hasn’t happened
yet
, Snapper. I still believe they’re coming. And if Twig’s dreams are true, that is another reason we should—”
“They aren’t true,” Bandtail insisted. She folded her arms across her chest. “If Twig really is having Spirit dreams, then why hasn’t our own village Spirit dreamer brought us this information? Hmm? She’s your daughter! We had a village council meeting with her this very afternoon, and she said nothing about Twig having Spirit dreams. As far as I’m concerned, this discussion is over. You will never convince me that little Twig is a Spirit dreamer.”
“I agree,” Snapper said. “I think you are just trying another tactic to force us to move when we don’t want to.”
Halfmoon sighed. He had expected this. Bandtail and Snapper generally agreed, and once they’d made up their minds, there was little anyone could do to change them. “When my granddaughter returns from Screech Owl’s, may I at least bring her to speak to the council? Perhaps if
you hear about her dreams from her own lips, you will be more inclined to heed her words.”
Gill looked around the circle, waiting to see if anyone else wished to speak, before he said, “My own opinion is that we should question the girl, as we do all potential Spirit dreamers. Do you agree?”
Bandtail grudgingly answered, “I will be happy to question her.”
“So will I,” Snapper said, and grunted as she rose to her feet. “Though I think it is a waste of time.”
“Then we are agreed.” Gill looked around. “When Twig returns we will question her, and then decide whether or not we should reconsider our vote not to move the village.”
Snapper made a disgusted sound and ducked under the lodge flap and out into the darkness.
Bandtail propped her walking stick and stood up. She glared at Halfmoon, and then she, too, left.
When they were alone, Halfmoon looked at Chief Gill. “Well, that was unpleasant. I had hoped they would listen carefully, even if they did not believe Twig was a Spirit dreamer.”
Gill gave him a tired smile. “They are ten summers older than you or I. They have seen many would-be Spirit dreamers, and most have turned out to be simply children with imaginations. And …” Gill lifted both hands. “You’ve been pushing very hard to get us to move the village. They both naturally suspect you made up the story about Twig’s dreams.”
Halfmoon rose to his feet. “The fact that my own
daughter, our village Spirit dreamer, has never mentioned Twig’s dreams did not help my cause, either.”
“No.” Gill shook his head. “It didn’t.”
Halfmoon bowed politely to Gill, then ducked beneath the lodge flap into the night. The cold air smelled of damp earth and wet leather. All fourteen lodges had a golden glow from the fires burning inside, and he heard people talking and laughing.
As he made his way across the plaza, he knew he would not win this battle in the council unless either they were attacked by raiders, or Twig’s dream came true.
And by then it would be too late.

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