People of the Weeping Eye (North America's Forgotten Past) Read Online Free PDF Page B

know.” A wistfulness lay behind her faded eyes. “Only a fool loves the Seeker.”
    “Or a witch.”
    She nodded. “You were the only fool in my life, Seeker.”
    He cocked his head. “But I heard you had a son.”
    She gave him a flat stare. “He was born six moons after you left.”
    A cold understanding flowed through his gut. “Why didn’t you say something?”
    “It wasn’t the time … or place.” The ghost of a smile on her lips conveyed no humor. “Power had other plans for you.”
    “And my son?”
    “What boy wants to live in a forest with a witch? My sister took him after several years. He likes living in the
society of men. He comes through every couple of summers. Lives down on the coast. He’s married. His wife has children. For all I know, the children have children.”
    “I would like to know him.”
    “He doesn’t know about you.”
    He stiffened in response to her serene expression.
    “Stop it,” she said softly. “Would you have given up your quest? Hmm? Ceased to punish yourself, or—pray the gods—actually have forgiven yourself?” A pause. “That’s what it takes to be a father. And, perhaps, even a husband. No, old lover, don’t look at me like that. You made your choices. All of them, knowing full well the consequences. It’s too late now to change them.”
    “I would know what he—”
    “You didn’t come here to find a son you didn’t know existed. You came to find a girl.”
    He opened his hand, staring down at the callused palm. Old scars had faded into the lines. Her words echoed between his souls. “I have lost so much, in so many places.”
    In a gentle voice, she asked, “Did you find the ends of the world?”
    He shook his head. “It’s not like the stories the Priests tell. The gods alone know how big the world really is. I can’t tell you the things I’ve seen. You wouldn’t believe the different peoples, the forests, the deserts, the lands of ice and snow, the endless seas. I’ve seen an eternity of grass that ripples like waves in the wind, buffalo herds … like black cloud patterns as far as the eye can see. Mountains, thrusting spires of naked rock into the heavens so high that you would believe the very sky was pierced. Rivers of ice that flow down valleys like …” But he could see that he’d lost her. He lowered his head. Even she, who knew everything, couldn’t conceive the reality behind his pitiful words.
    “That was the Trade you made,” she told him. “The manner in which you insisted on punishing yourself.”
    “Why did I come back here?”
    She laid a hand on his shoulder. “So that I could tell you it was time. The circles of Power are closing.”
    As she spoke he could see the Dream girl’s face. She was young, barely a woman. Her long black hair gleamed in the light, waving as if teased by wind or waves. Reflections filled her large dark eyes. The images seemed to shift and beckon, mocking in their mannerisms. Smooth brown skin, unmarred by wrinkles or scars, molded to her bones; and her smile was a darting and tempting thing.
    “Go to her,” the old woman said. “I can see her in your eyes. Powerful, this one. So very Powerful.”
    “She has called me from across half a world. Will she kill me?” he wondered. “Is that why I Dream the fire in her eyes? Will she burn me to restore the balance?”
    The old woman lifted her shoulder in a careless shrug.
    How characteristic of her. The Forest Witch had never hidden the truth or played games with him, never smoothed the rough edges of life. Not even back then, when he’d been frightened, lonely, and horrified. Now, as he looked at her age-ravaged face, sadness filled his breast.
    “What are you thinking?” she asked.
    “That I would make you beautiful again. That I would go back to that morning I found you by the stream, and we would live it all over again.”
    “And that you would never leave?”
    He nodded.
    “I thought you had ceased to delude yourself with