People of the Fire (80 page)

 
          
 
He walked out in the center of the Dance
circle, feeling detached, and silhouetted himself in the light of the fire. He
raised his hands, gesturing to the People. He blinked, knowing the swirling of
Power around him.

 
          
 
Watch me, Mother. Then speak to me.

 
          
 
"You see my Power!" Lightning
flickered again in the inky sky, illuminating the clouds, backed by the inferno
swelling from the
Buffalo
Mountains
.

 
          
 
The cheer entered like a breath and grew
within, filling him fit to bursting.

 
          
 
"We are the People! We are the new
way!" As they cheered, pride pulsed up and down his soul. Mother, see me!
See what I have done with your Dream!

 
          
 
"Look, people! Look and see that I have
burned the An-
it'ah
!"

 
          
 
Firelight danced off the buffalo head hanging
from the pole. "We, the People, have renewed you, brother
Buffalo
! Make your herds grow and know you feed
your brothers.

 
          
 
"No one can change our way! The taint of
weak women is cleaned from us."

 
          
 
The warriors whooped and jumped, rattling
their darts. Their gleaming eyes were for him alone, ignoring the fire where
their comrades now fought for their lives. Even the women watched, cowed,
accepting their lot.

 
          
 
"Who would challenge Heavy Beaver's
Power?"

 
          
 
"I would."

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver froze, refusing to believe.
"Who?" he demanded hotly. "Know that you are Cursed as you
speak."

           
 
Images from the terrible Dream replayed as the
People backed away, clearing a path. Three people—a young man, a crippled old
woman, and a tall thin young woman—walked through the ranks.

 
          
 
“Who are you?"

 
          
 
"Have I changed so much, Heavy
Beaver?" The old hobbling woman spoke with a man's voice.

 
          
 
"Two Smokes!" The knowledge came
through the shimmering sweetness of the
datura
rushing along his veins. 4k You bring the vileness of
berdache
here on this day? You have the nerve?" And the young man, why did he look
so familiar/

 
          
 
“A Dreamer has come," Two Smokes said
firmly. "He s come to Dream the Spiral—which you’ve forgotten."

 
          
 
“And this . . . this woman?" He gestured.

 
          
 
“Her name is Tanager. The greatest warrior of
the Red Hand. She has come as our escort."

 
          
 
“A brief escort."

 
          
 
The young man stepped forward, lifting a rattlesnake
high in a swollen hand. Something about his eyes caught Beaver's attention.
Even through the years, he knew. "Ah— Little Dancer? Came for the same
fate as your mother? Or have the
Anit'ah
thrown you
out?"

 
          
 
Fire Dancer's voice carried, eerie in the
night as he lifted a bundle in his good hand. The Wolf Bundle! "I have
come to Dream with you, Heavy Beaver. Together we'll Dance the Power." And
he lifted the snake high, a smile on his face. “Come and Dance with me, Heavy
Beaver."

 
          
 
People gasped, eyes lit with wonder. Fire
Dancer held their attention. With that, he handed the Wolf Bundle to Two
Smokes, a chant on his lips. In the firelight, it seemed like a Dream.
Chanting, the young man Danced up to Heavy Beaver. The People remained rooted,
too shocked to move.

 
          
 
The world began to pulse with Fire Dancer's
steps, shifting and shimmering. Or was it the datum? Heavy Beaver blinked, a
curious chill in his flesh.

 
          
 
"If you're a true Dreamer, Heavy Beaver,
you can Dance the venom. Prove as I have proved, that it's nothing but
illusion." The People cried out as the rattlesnake bit Fire Dancer on the
breast.

           
 
Heavy Beaver swallowed, staring with wide eyes
at the serpent.

 
          
 
"No, you're evil."

 
          
 
Fire Dancer laughed, cavorting and leaping.
"Feel the One! Feel it running through us. Feel the Spirals! This is a
night of Power."

 
          
 
He extended the snake again. Frantically,
Heavy Beaver batted the serpent away, grateful that it landed writhing and
hissing in the flames.

 
          
 
"Is that your response to the Dance?"
Fire Dancer whirled away, Singing and Dancing.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver raised his hands, calling on his
strength, on everything he believed. The
datura
swelled and rippled along his soul.

 
          
 
"Little Dancer, I declare you a foulness.
You and your
berdache
are Cursed. You will die . . .
die in agony!"

 
          
 
''See the Power of the One! '' Fire Dancer
pointed to the sky.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver followed his pointing finger to
the night sky. There, on the western horizon, a whirlwind rose above the
flames, flickers of light showered out of the night sky, falling, drifting here
and there, lighting the darkness.

 
          
 
The voice mocked in Heavy Beaver's mind,
"I am the Wolf Bundle. Feel my Power!''

 
          
 
Horrible things spiraled down out of the night
sky, reaching for Heavy Beaver.

 
          
 
Tanager never let her eyes wander. Fear pumped
bright with her blood. So she'd condemned herself to death? Here they could
rush her, take her alive, rape her, make a slave of her.

 
          
 
"Never again," she promised under
her breath. What kind of lunatic followed another? Her place was fighting with
her people against the invaders. Still, she'd vowed a dart would drink Heavy
Beaver's blood before her own ceased to pump.

 
          
 
The two men advanced carefully, nervously. She
caught their movement as Heavy Beaver's voice rolled out in some terrible
threat. A prickling ran up her arm. At least White Calf's soul hadn't deserted
her.

 
          
 
She watched, poised on balanced feet. They
planned to cast at the same time. A dart apiece for the
berdache
and Fire Dancer. She'd have to be fast—fast like she'd never been before.

 
          
 
Not even a Dreamer can guard against a dart in
the back.

 
          
 
The war chant burst from her lips as she moved
into the Dance. Not even Cougar had her swiftness. The enemy charged and cast.
She planted a foot, slapping aside the first dart, spinning and batting the
second from its mark. The Dance filled her as she whirled,
nocking
her own deadly missile. She whipped her arm forward, sending it to its mark,
driving it deep into the man's chest even as he
nocked
a second dart. She shifted, batting a third dart from the air, body surging in
the trance of the Dance and Power.

 
          
 
She thrilled, bracing for that brief instant,
casting with all the muscle of her whip-thin body, knowing the cast had good.
Then she turned on nimble feet, covering the Dreamer where he Danced his own
Power. She grinned at the shocked enemy, who stood unmoving, as if planted in
the ground.

 
          
 
Yes, she'd been meant for this. None of the
other warriors so much as quivered. Through wide eyes, they watched, gaudy in
their paint, courage thin as water as they stared at the two dying warriors who
whimpered and moaned on the ground, one bleeding at the mouth, the other
staring horrified at the dart shaft that stuck from the hollow under his ribs.

 
          
 
Tanager whooped as fire rained down from
above.

 
          
 
Two Smokes heard the snapping rattle of darts.
Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught sight of Throws Stones and
Fire At Night where they lay, watched by the circle of faces.

 
          
 
He sighed, lifting the Wolf Bundle high,
ecstatic at the Power that ran through it. He lifted it, drifting, a wonderful
floating sensation filling him.

 
          
 
“I CURSE YOU!" Heavy Beaver shrieked,
glazed eyes on his dying warriors.

 
          
 
"You Curse no one." Fire Dancer Sang,
stepping to the bonfire. “Your Power is illusion. Heavy Beaver. Learn with me.
Dream with me."

 
          
 
And he Danced, Singing with a Power that
swayed souls.

           
 
"I am Fire Dancer, come to Dream the new
way. Feel the Spirals, feel the One, changing now, becoming whole!"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver gaped, mouth open, disbelief
large in his eyes. He swatted at something in the air, crying out, as if things
reached for him.

 
          
 
"No! Leave me alone! I Curse you, Wolf
Bundle. I Curse you!"

 
          
 
Fire Dancer stepped around the fat man, a
detached light in his eyes, fixing Heavy Beaver in his stare like a snake did a
bird. Behind him, flames crackled up in the juniper as hot sparks fell red and
glowing from the ink-shot sky.

 
          
 
"Feel the Power, Heavy Beaver, feel the
Wolf Bundle. That's what possesses you now. Take the coals. Dance with them.
Dance the One."

 
          
 
"No! Leave me alone!" Tears squeezed
from clamped eyes, running jaggedly down his contorting face.

 
          
 
'Feel the Power!" Fire Dancer Sang. He
whirled before the People. "Dance! Dance with me! Dance the Spirals! A new
way has come. A new way!"

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver shrieked, voice twisted with
terror. He slashed at the air with futile fists, beating away things only he
could see. Screaming, he lurched to his feet, fleeing toward the edge of camp,
dashing into the burning juniper, heedless of the flames.

 
          
 
One by one, more people began to move their
feet, learning the Song from Fire Dancer, following the Dance.

 
          
 
Where he stood in the center, Two Smokes held
the Wolf Bundle high, tears falling from his cheeks as his soul drifted with
the One. The Blessed, Blessed One.

 
          
 
Heavy Beaver crashed madly through the brittle
juniper. He tripped and fell, stumbling over a twisted sagebrush. Whimpering,
he thrashed at the darting things swooping about him. He covered his head,
feeling the earth seething beneath him. Or was it only the
datura
?

 
          
 
Crying, he looked up. Around him the trees
burned, fire leaping orange and yellow, searing, crackling, and roaring as
entire junipers and giant sage exploded in waves of flame. Blinding tongues of
light leapt for the night-black sky, illuminating the cloudlike masses of
tumbling smoke in an eerie reddish tint that receded into charcoal smudges of
ruby and maroon as they rolled higher and higher into the flame-streaked sky.