Children of the Dawnland (North America's Forgotten Past Series) (14 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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“
G
ET UP!”
The hoarse voice brought Hook straight out of a deep sleep. Dry Cloud screamed as Hook threw off his hides, grabbed his war club, and jumped to his feet ready to club his enemy to death.
“I know where the Stone Wolf is.”
Hook blinked. The dark silhouette of a man filled his entryway. Cold wind blew in, fluttering the scalps tied to the frame poles. The man was holding the lodge curtain open, and his body looked utterly black against the bright moonlight.
Breathlessly, Hook said, “My chief? Is that you?”
“The Stone Wolf is in Buffalobeard Village. Find it. And bring me the girl who has it. Leave now.”
The curtain fell closed, and darkness filled the lodge.
“Blessed Spirits,” Dry Cloud gasped. “What’s he talking about?”
“Father?” his oldest son, Blue Dog, called. “Is everything all right?”
“Where are you going, Father?” Slate called, and then his entire family started talking at once, asking questions. Dry Cloud rose and walked across the lodge to check on Slate.
Hook’s chest was heaving. He fought to force the blood surging in his veins to slow down.
“Quiet. I have to go assemble a war party. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
T
WIG TUGGED UP the hem of her green dress—actually, Screech Owl’s ritual shirt with the dancing bears—to avoid the tangle of old roots that crept across the path. She had pinned her braid on top of her head with a wooden comb, but Wind Woman had torn loose straggles that blew before her eyes. In the pack on her back, she carried all of the sacred things that Screech Owl had used to teach her, a hollow tube to blow away evil Spirits, and her atlatl, plus the clothes she had brought with her. Screech Owl had made a special belt pouch for her to carry the spruce bough from First Woman’s tree, and told her
never
to lose it.
Five paces ahead of her, Screech Owl walked beside Greyhawk. Greyhawk carried his spear nocked in his atlatl, ready for a fight. He had been pensive all morning while they followed the winding trail that led to Buffalobeard Village. As the warmth of the day increased, more and more snow melted from the trail, leaving it muddy and slippery.
Greyhawk said, “Screech Owl, I’ve been wondering about finding Cobia’s cave. I don’t even know which trail to take. Do you?”
“You follow the lakeshore trail until you see an ice canyon, Hoarfrost Canyon; then you walk into the canyon. It gets more and more narrow as you go. At the end of the canyon, you’ll see her cave.”
“So, once we enter Hoarfrost Canyon, we can’t miss it.”
“That’s right. Hoarfrost Canyon dead-ends at Cobia’s cave. That what makes it a perfect ambush place. The only way out is the way you came in.”
“Then if someone blocks the mouth of the canyon, we’re trapped.”
“Yes, though there are smaller caves that dot the ice cliffs … .”
Twig barely heard them. She’d been thinking about her Spirit journey to the skyworld. Memories of her litter overturning in the river had been haunting her. In her nightmares she still gulped mouthfuls of chilling water and felt her lungs go cold before she saw Water Snake slithering toward her.
“Screech Owl?” she asked. He and Greyhawk turned to look back at her.
“Yes, Twig?”
“What happens if I get Rock’s soul before I have to go back into the skyworld?”
“What?”
“I said, what happens if I have to cross the river in the skyworld with Rock’s soul in my body?”
Greyhawk squinted at her. “Rock’s soul?”
“Yes. You know, or something else that would sink. I’m worried that—”
“Oh … Oh, I understand. Well”—Screech Owl gestured airily—“I suppose you’ll have to roll along the river bottom until you find a firm enough place to roll ashore. You’ll want to avoid all the mucky places, of course, because if you get stuck, you won’t have any hands or feet to push out with. Not having eyes will be the real problem, since you won’t be able to see where you’re going. But I suspect that if you feel your way, paying attention to the flow of the current, you’ll make it.” His bushy gray brows lifted abruptly. “That is, unless one of the grouse with fish fins dives down to gobble you up for its gizzard.”
Greyhawk said, “I hope no worm souls try to get Twig before she has to talk to Eagle-Man again. Eagles love worms.”
“That’s not funny, Greyhawk,” she said.
“And, then”—Screech Owl tilted his head—“the other solution is just to cross the river in a different place. A place where it isn’t as wide or deep. That will take some
searching, of course. You might want to try a place up north, in the heart of the Ice Giants. Cobia once told me the river isn’t nearly as wide there.”
Twig frowned and walked up the trail. As she shifted the weight of her pack, the hollow tube for blowing away evil Spirits rattled. “Cobia won’t kill us, will she?”
He tilted his head uncertainly. “No one can say what Cobia will or will not do. I just wish I knew how much time I have left to teach you. I don’t want to push you, but, Twig—”
“We’d better do it, Screech Owl.” She bit her lip, recalling the terror she’d felt when her litter had overturned in the sacred river. She could still see the faces of the buffalo as they dragged her litter away … and feel the icy water filling her lungs. Could she stand that again? “It might take me longer to learn than we expect.”
Screech Owl trudged up a small rise that overlooked Ice Giant Lake. Far in the distance, Twig saw Buffalobeard Village nestled at the base of the rocky ridge. They had almost finished the rock wall. Only one gap remained on the south side of the village. The smoke from the campfires rose into the turquoise sky.
Twig thought she could see fishing boats out on the water, and people moving along the lakeshore, but windblown snow blurred the distances. It might just be boulders. Still, her eyes lingered on those black dots, and her heart ached for her mother.
Greyhawk said, “Come on. Let’s hurry. Even if we run all the way, we’re not going to get home until after dark!”
Twig trotted down the hill behind Screech Owl and Greyhawk, calling, “When can you teach me more? Tonight?”
“If your mother will let me, yes. In fact, doing this lesson in your own lodge might be best. You’ll feel safer there than anywhere else.”
Twig broke into a hard run, her legs pumping while the pack slapped her back. Ahead, the trail wound downward. “What will you teach me, Screech Owl?”
His sweat-damp gray hair flopped around his ears with each step. “I’m going to teach you how to cross the river and enter the Land of the Dead, Twig.”
“After I cross the river, what do I need to do?”
Screech Owl caught up with her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. For a while, they just stood in the trail and looked at each other.
Then Screech Owl said, “After you cross the river, you have to step into the mouth of the Spirit that wants to chew you up.”
D
USK WAS DEEPENING into night when Twig made the last turn in the trail and ran headlong for home. As she crested a rise, she saw Buffalobeard Village. The circle of lodges still stood around the central fire pit, but big packs had been piled outside the lodges. From the looks of things, they would be leaving tomorrow.
Mother ducked out of their lodge, and Twig yelled, “Mother? Mother, I’m home!”
Mother turned and ran toward Twig. She had braided her hair and coiled it on top of her head, pinning it with a rabbit-bone pin. The style made her narrow face seem
longer and her nose more hooked. Her shell bead necklace glittered. “Twig? Oh, Twig! And Greyhawk! We were so worried about you!”
“I’m fine,” Greyhawk said.
“Well, you’d better get home and tell your father. Right now. He’s been terrified.”
Greyhawk lifted a hand, called, “I’ll see you in the morning, Twig,” and raced across the village for his lodge.
Mother threw her arms around Twig and hugged her tightly. It felt so good to be close again. Mother kissed Twig’s hair and face, and Twig’s soul ached with happiness. “Oh, Mother, I missed you.”
“And I missed you. Let me look at you. Are you all right?”
Twig’s pack made her so awkward that she staggered sideways when Mother released her.
“Mother, guess what? I went into the skyworld! Screech Owl made a death litter for me, and Eagle-Man brought Spirit buffalo to pull it.”
Mother smiled. “Yes, I made that same journey when I studied with Screech Owl. I think every dreamer in history has tried to make that trip. How far did you go? Did you get out of the cave?”
Excitedly, she said, “Oh, yes, I made it to the river, but my litter overturned, and I fell into the water—”
“You …” Mother blinked, and lifted her gaze to Screech Owl, who had come to stand behind Twig. Twig saw Screech Owl nod, and Mother stroked Twig’s hair in amazement. “I’m so proud of you, Twig. I tried many
times to make it across the river. In fact, I’ve known only one dreamer in my life who has made it to the river, and crossed it into the Land of the Dead.” She looked at Screech Owl.
“Yes, well,” Twig blurted happily, “Runs In Light told me that if I try very hard I may be as great a dreamer as my father, Screech Owl—”
“What?”
Mother’s smile faded, then hardened into anger.
A dreadful silence fell. Twig’s eyes went back and forth between them.
“I kept my promise, Riddle,” Screech Owl said softly. “I didn’t tell her. Her Spirit Helpers did.”
Mother lowered her eyes disbelievingly before she said, “We’ll discuss it later. I’m sure Twig is hungry. I have a fresh pot of grouse stew in our lodge.”
Mother marched away, and Screech Owl patted Twig’s head as he passed by her to catch up with Mother. “Riddle, please, let’s talk now,” he said; then his voice went too low for Twig to hear, but she could see Mother’s shoulder muscles knot.
They marched straight back to Mother’s lodge without saying a word to anyone.
The old people watched Twig as she followed along behind Mother and Screech Owl. She could see the curiosity in their weathered faces, and knew they wanted to ask her what she’d learned. They were probably worried she didn’t have a human soul—which, of course, she didn’t.
Mother raised her voice to a shout. “I told you I didn’t
want her to know about you. We had a bargain! What am I going to do now?”
“Lower your voice, Riddle,” Screech Owl pleaded.
Twig felt ill. She had been so afraid of telling Mother about having Water Snake’s soul that she had forgotten she wasn’t supposed to know about Screech Owl being her father. What would happen because of her slip?
By the time she reached the lodge doorway, the barest sliver of Moon Maiden’s face had peeked over the eastern horizon.

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