People of the Nightland (North America's Forgotten Past) (39 page)

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

BOOK: People of the Nightland (North America's Forgotten Past)
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“Why do you care?” She ran her fingers down his chest. “We did terrible things.”
He smiled thinly. “Because I was headed down that same trail. That was the lesson Goodeagle tried to teach me. His betrayal brought me back … but it took longer than it should have.”
He felt her tense. “If we are serious about trusting each other, you have to know. Kakala and I were there. We saw what Karigi did to Bramble.”
“I know.”
She shifted, raising up to look at him in the dim light. Her eyes were shadowed in the spill of her hair. “I will not have what happened to Bramble lie between us like a thorn that slowly festers. In the end, Windwolf, it was our fault, Kakala’s and mine. We trusted Karigi, and we should have known better.”
He reached up, cupping her shoulder with his palm. “You said Kakala would have killed him?”
“Oh, yes.” She hesitated. “I should have done it myself. But sometimes things happen so fast we can’t understand the implications.”
“No. We can’t.”
“And what are the implications of you and me, together?”
“Difficult.” He slid his hand down to envelop her breast. “But if this night is all that we have, I’m going to fill it with you.”
H
e won’t come in the day anymore. But at night, he touches me, his ghostly fingers gliding like fox fur over my flesh to wake me. I think … but I shouldn’t … if he could hear my thoughts … no, he doesn’t care as long as I keep making plans to take our people back to the Long Dark. I … I’m safe. I’m sure of it. And my thoughts are my only refuge.
I’m not sure he’s Raven Hunter. He may be an evil Spirit hiding behind the name. Though, Ancestors help me, he’s so persuasive. The horror stories he tells about Wolf Dreamer seem true. When I look around me, all I see is suffering.
If I only knew for certain that he was Raven Hunter, I’d go out and challenge Wolf Dreamer myself. I’d ask him why, if he truly could save his people, he hasn’t already done it.
Raven Hunter tells me that the only way I can speak to Wolf Dreamer is if I have the Wolf Bundle. It’s the door to Wolf Dreamer’s Spirit lodge. He says a little Lame Bull boy has the bundle, and tells me that I should send warriors to get it and destroy it.
I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do … .
“
T
hey know you’re here.”
The voice seemed to seep from the ice walls and echo around her chamber.
Skimmer sat up in her hides and stared at the utter darkness. It had started to press in upon her like black smothering smoke. If she hadn’t experienced it, she would never have believed that mere darkness could become the enemy: a living ominous creature that stalked her. It moved and breathed. It spoke to her in a soft muted voice that rang in her ears.
She called, “Ti-Bish? Is that you?”
Moccasins on ice.
“They know you’re here,” he repeated from no more than two or three paces away.
“Who?”
“The Four Old Men, the Elders.” Ti-Bish shifted uneasily. “The warriors who brought you here have been talking.”
Skimmer drew the worn softness of the hides up around her throat. She’d started to shiver. But it wasn’t the cold; it was the memory of Nashat’s voice coming from just outside the enclosure.
“H-How long have I been here, Ti-Bish?” she asked. The anguish in her voice surprised her. “I can’t tell how many days have passed.”
“The Elders want to see you.”
Why wasn’t he answering her questions?
“Ti-Bish … where have you been? It seems like I’ve been alone forever.”
His steps padded closer, and he knelt down. “It’s not easy to get to. But Raven Hunter showed me the way.”
His scent filled the air, something deep and dark, like moss that had been growing in a cave for tens of tens of summers.
“The way?”
He didn’t answer.
Tiny flashes of light, like a distant torch reflecting from midnight-colored feathers, surrounded Ti-Bish. She could clearly see the outline of his body as he stood up.
Reflections from the Thunder Sea? This far away?
“We have to go,” he whispered. “The clan Elders are waiting.”
Skimmer fought to suppress the shudder that climbed her spine. If they killed her before she had a chance to kill Ti-Bish, what would happen to the Sunpath People? To Ashes?
“Ti-Bish,” she said as she braced a hand against the wall and rose. “The darkness … has taught me many things.”
“Raven Hunter said it would,” he breathed, and spread his arms, as though opening them to the black world. “It has become the one ally I can rely upon.”
Fear tingled through her. His soul seemed to be loose, flying somewhere far away where it couldn’t hear her.
She moved toward him. “You were right. I have seen the truth of Raven Hunter’s vision. I
believe
we must go back through the hole in the ice to the Long Dark.”
The words terrified her. If the Long Dark was anything like living in this black cave, it would drive her mad. It would drive every normal human being mad.
Ti-Bish took a quick step backward, as though stunned. “Has … has he picked you?”
Nothing he said was making sense.
“Who?”
“C-Come,” he whispered. “Let’s … let’s get this over with. We must prepare for the way.”
She shook her head in confusion, but said, “All right. I will try to follow you, but it’s difficult. I wish you’d brought a lamp. The darkness …”
Ti-Bish took her hand in a tight grip, and said, “I’ll lead you.”
As they climbed the sloping tunnels, the Ice Giants groaned and squealed.
Skimmer stopped suddenly when Wind Woman moved around her, blowing her long hair. “Are we nearing the surface?”
“Yes.”
The darkness began to recede, and a faint glow lit the tunnels. Ti-Bish still held her hand, leading her up through the maze and around enormous pools of meltwater.
“It won’t be long now,” he said, and walked around a curve.
As they headed up a steep tunnel, her feet repeatedly slipped on the ice. Ti-Bish kept a tight hold on her hand to keep her from falling. They rounded a bend to find the ice parted, the rough walls split vertically. She stared into the chasm created by the giant crack.
“Is that … ?” She sucked in a breath.
“Yes,” he said. “There are crevasses everywhere. And more open every summer.”
Skimmer tipped her head far back to look up. Sunlight filtered through the fissures overhead. A feeling of ecstasy and freedom swelled her heart. It was as if Father Sun himself had reached down and touched her. For the first time since she’d arrived, she could get a full breath into her lungs.
“That is my
secret
crevasse,” he whispered to her, as though sharing a bit of precious knowledge. “Remember it, Skimmer. Someday, you may need to know how to get back here.”
They veered left at the next split in the tunnels, and as they continued on up the steep incline, Father Sun faded, but the flickering light of a fire began to waver over the pale blue walls like invisible wings.
The narrow ice tunnels opened to magnificent arched passageways and huge rounded chambers.
When she heard voices, her stomach muscles tensed.
“We’re almost to the Council Chamber,” Ti-Bish said, and turned to look at her. “Don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”
“I—I believe you.”
But she wondered if he had any real authority to stop them.
From within the chamber, she heard laughter, the rustle of hides, and the clacking of wooden tea cups.
She looked down at her soiled doehide cape. The white moons painted around the bottom had grown dim from soot and dirt. She was meeting the Nightland Clan Elders, and she looked like a slave. Using her fingers, she combed her long hair and tucked it behind her ears. It was the best she could do.
Ti-Bish led her into the chamber, and the voices stopped.
The Four Old Men sat around a stone bowl of warming coals with tea cups in their hands. The tea bag hung from a tripod at the edge of the bowl. Two were bald; two had white hair that hung down their backs in long braids. Each was dressed regally. Their capes had been smoked a beautiful golden hue, then covered with elk ivories, circlets of mammoth tusk, and painted with their clan symbols. She recognized each Elder by those symbols:
Elder Nashat from the Night Clan, Elder Satah from the Wolverine Clan, Elder Ta’Hona of the Loon Clan, and Elder Khepa of the Ash Clan.
The hem of Nashat’s cape was decorated with white fox tails that almost dragged the floor. He seemed to be the youngest of the Elders. Though he had a long white braid, his face bore few deep lines. The other Elders resembled shriveled winter-killed carcasses.
Just the sight of Nashat’s face brought back that terrible night in the pen. She swallowed hard, willing her hands not to tremble. And from somewhere, perhaps the very blackness she had feared, courage came.
Skimmer’s gaze was drawn upward to the high ceiling, which arched five body lengths over her head. Firelight fluttered over the dome. Truly, the Nightland Caves were staggeringly beautiful.
“Forgive us for being late,” Ti-Bish said, and bowed to the elders. “A servant caught me just before I started down and—”
Nashat asked, “Was it that ugly little girl, Pipe? I haven’t seen her for a while. I thought maybe you’d murdered her and I was finally rid of her.”
Ti-Bish stood as if frozen. He didn’t even blink.
Nashat turned to Skimmer and scowled as though he’d scraped her off his moccasins just that morning. “Please, step forward so that the Elders may see this ‘Skimmer from the Nine Pipes band.’”
“It’s all right,” Ti-Bish whispered nervously, and gestured for Skimmer to walk forward. “They wish to speak with you.”
Skimmer managed to keep from quaking as she stepped closer to the seated Elders. They whispered darkly to each other as she stopped before them.
Clenching her fists, she asked, “What do you want?”
Nashat strolled toward her, the fox tails on his exquisite cape swaying, the fur glinting wildly in the filtered daylight. His white hair had been freshly washed and braided. It shone.
“Did you organize your people to kill our Blessed Guide?” Nashat circled her like an eagle ready to dive for an unsuspecting rabbit.
She glanced at Ti-Bish, who stood near the entry with his shoulders hunched and his head down. He reminded her of a puppy beaten so often it always expected to be struck at any moment.
“I did,” she answered.
The Elders hissed to each other and looked at her through narrowed hateful eyes.
Elder Ta’Hona turned his scarred face to look up at her, and the spotted loon painted on the front of his cape folded in the middle. He cradled a withered right arm in his left. “You wanted to kill our Guide. Why?”
“Because you’re trying to steal our lands and have ordered the destruction of my people. Your warriors are murdering women, children, and elders. People who never wished the Nightland or their Guide ill until you butchered their relatives.” She glared at them, feeling her hatred. “Can you think of a better reason for murder?”
Nashat grinned, and she fought the urge to spit on him.
Ti-Bish spread his feet, and his shoulders hunched more, as though he were trying to hide in plain sight.
Elder Khepa waved a trembling hand. “If you don’t want to die, move. Then we won’t have to kill you.”
“Yes.” Elder Satah turned white eyes on her. “We have far more people to feed than you do. We need your nut forests and hunting grounds. You can go somewhere else. Move farther south.”
“I thought you were following the Guide to the Long Dark. Or are you just using him for an excuse?”
“Oh,” Nashat responded, “we take the Guide very seriously.”
A potent brew of anger and desperation seared her veins. “Why can’t you go around us? You should move farther south, not us. The Sunpath People have lived in the nut forests since Wolf Dreamer first
led us up through the hole in the ice. Our Ancestors lived and died on that land.”
Nashat chuckled from her left. She turned to look at him. He tilted his head in an oddly seductive way and pinned her with cold black eyes. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. In the past moon, War Chief Kakala and Deputy Karigi have destroyed most of your insignificant little bands. The few pitiful survivors have dispersed across the land. The Sunpath People are no more.”
Skimmer’s heart raced. Could it be true? Or a clever lie?
Ta’Hona ran a hand over his bald head and said, “Soon, we will head south and move into your old lands, perhaps even into your old lodges, those that are left standing. There’s nothing you can do to stop—”
“No,” Ti-Bish softly said, and his eyes went wide. “We won’t.”
Nashat scowled at him. “How dare you contradict an Elder? What do you mean?”
Ti-Bish stepped forward. His voice was like buffalo wool, soft and warm. “I’ve found it.”
All of the Elders turned to face him. “Found what?” Khepa asked.
“The way.”
Nashat turned to the other Elders and exchanged glances. No one seemed to know what the Guide meant.
Nashat said, “The way … to do what?”
“The way.” Ti-Bish swallowed hard and lifted his chin. “The hole in the ice. I can lead our people to the paradise of the Long Dark!”

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