fear. "We won't tolerate this Dreaming, this magic of your kind. The Great Mystery will see to that. Our darts are stronger than your Dreams— your Watchers. Don't play with us, man of the Enemy. We'll break your people like a dry willow twig."
The young man smiled. "Is that what you seek? To destroy? That is your choice?"
"No," Ice Fire rasped, a desperate tingle of fright winding up his spine. "I seek my sons, the destiny of my people, possession of the Sacred Hide."
' 'And what would you give?'' The youth's eyes twirled like lights in his head.
Ice Fire swallowed. "I . . . anything."
"Give me your son? I will pay you back in kind. A son for a son. A victory for defeat. Life for death."
"But I—"
' 'Do you agree? Will you trade what is yours for what is mine?"
Confused, Ice Fire opened his mouth. Involuntarily, he mumbled, "I would . . . if it—"
"Then it shall be." And the young man turned, shimmering, dropping to all fours, arms and legs multiplying until he'd become a red spider. Turning, the beast raced up the rainbow, slowing near the top. There, it turned, spreading its legs, spinning the colors of the rainbow across the heavens until they wove themselves into a web connecting the dew-drops of stars.
Ice Fire jerked awake, squinting into the darkness, windblown snow still streaming by in endless wreaths. He winced,
legs numb from sitting so long. Gasping, he stood, feeling the sting of blood revitalizing his numbed limbs.
As he looked up at the snow-glazed stars, he found the shape of the spider there, hanging, waiting, watching.
"Then it shall be," he whispered, still seeing the vision. A pain settled under his heart. "A son for a son?" The old lines of misery resettled around his mouth. "I have no son to begin with. Great Mystery? Am I your toy again? To be thrown about like a fish-bone doll? Have you no other man to soak in sorrow?"
Limping from the blood tingles in his leg, Ice Fire climbed out of the cairn, hobbling slowly down the hill to the conical mammoth-hide shelters dotting the plain below.
Far to the south, Runs In Light blinked frosty lashes, wondering at the strange elder of the Others, the man he'd talked so blithely to in his Dream.
Where had his words come from? What did it mean? He wouldn't speak so to an elder. A frown etched his brow. And this business of peoples . . . and sons?
He shuffled in the blackness, hearing his parka scuff on snow, startled for a moment until he remembered where he was . . . the Dream Hunt. Curiously, he reached out, feeling the reassuring touch of Wolf's hide.
So many Dreams. Frightened, he stared into the darkness. "I'll go south with you, Wolf. But, man of the Others, who are you? Why did you seek me? How can I, Runs In Light, trade you a son?"
Chapter 3
Dancing Fox pulled the last scraps of leather tightly around Laughing Sunshine's dead baby, covering the tiny colorless face for the last time. She exhaled slowly. She was a beautiful woman with an oval face, high cheekbones, and flashing black
eyes as wide and round as an owl's. She gritted her teeth in a mixture of anger and hurt as she rumbled stiffly to shove a bone awl through frozen leather.
"Curse this—"
"What?" Sunshine asked shakily.
"I was talking to the hide. It's frozen so solid I can hear the ice crystals crunching as the awl wiggles through them.''
"Hurry, please," said Laughing Sunshine, "I can't bear this."
Laying the baby in her lap, Dancing Fox quickly pulled her hand up into her sleeve and used the hide cuff as a cushion beneath her fist as she forced the awl through the leather. A dull crackling sounded as the hide gave way. Placing the awl in her teeth, she worked the last segment of sinew through the hole and drew it tight, sealing the tiny face in the hide sack.
So many dead. Has the Long Dark eaten all our souls? Have light and life left the whole world? She rubbed her gaunt belly, fearing Crow Caller's seed might have taken root in her womb. Her bleeding hadn't
The young man smiled. "Is that what you seek? To destroy? That is your choice?"
"No," Ice Fire rasped, a desperate tingle of fright winding up his spine. "I seek my sons, the destiny of my people, possession of the Sacred Hide."
' 'And what would you give?'' The youth's eyes twirled like lights in his head.
Ice Fire swallowed. "I . . . anything."
"Give me your son? I will pay you back in kind. A son for a son. A victory for defeat. Life for death."
"But I—"
' 'Do you agree? Will you trade what is yours for what is mine?"
Confused, Ice Fire opened his mouth. Involuntarily, he mumbled, "I would . . . if it—"
"Then it shall be." And the young man turned, shimmering, dropping to all fours, arms and legs multiplying until he'd become a red spider. Turning, the beast raced up the rainbow, slowing near the top. There, it turned, spreading its legs, spinning the colors of the rainbow across the heavens until they wove themselves into a web connecting the dew-drops of stars.
Ice Fire jerked awake, squinting into the darkness, windblown snow still streaming by in endless wreaths. He winced,
legs numb from sitting so long. Gasping, he stood, feeling the sting of blood revitalizing his numbed limbs.
As he looked up at the snow-glazed stars, he found the shape of the spider there, hanging, waiting, watching.
"Then it shall be," he whispered, still seeing the vision. A pain settled under his heart. "A son for a son?" The old lines of misery resettled around his mouth. "I have no son to begin with. Great Mystery? Am I your toy again? To be thrown about like a fish-bone doll? Have you no other man to soak in sorrow?"
Limping from the blood tingles in his leg, Ice Fire climbed out of the cairn, hobbling slowly down the hill to the conical mammoth-hide shelters dotting the plain below.
Far to the south, Runs In Light blinked frosty lashes, wondering at the strange elder of the Others, the man he'd talked so blithely to in his Dream.
Where had his words come from? What did it mean? He wouldn't speak so to an elder. A frown etched his brow. And this business of peoples . . . and sons?
He shuffled in the blackness, hearing his parka scuff on snow, startled for a moment until he remembered where he was . . . the Dream Hunt. Curiously, he reached out, feeling the reassuring touch of Wolf's hide.
So many Dreams. Frightened, he stared into the darkness. "I'll go south with you, Wolf. But, man of the Others, who are you? Why did you seek me? How can I, Runs In Light, trade you a son?"
Chapter 3
Dancing Fox pulled the last scraps of leather tightly around Laughing Sunshine's dead baby, covering the tiny colorless face for the last time. She exhaled slowly. She was a beautiful woman with an oval face, high cheekbones, and flashing black
eyes as wide and round as an owl's. She gritted her teeth in a mixture of anger and hurt as she rumbled stiffly to shove a bone awl through frozen leather.
"Curse this—"
"What?" Sunshine asked shakily.
"I was talking to the hide. It's frozen so solid I can hear the ice crystals crunching as the awl wiggles through them.''
"Hurry, please," said Laughing Sunshine, "I can't bear this."
Laying the baby in her lap, Dancing Fox quickly pulled her hand up into her sleeve and used the hide cuff as a cushion beneath her fist as she forced the awl through the leather. A dull crackling sounded as the hide gave way. Placing the awl in her teeth, she worked the last segment of sinew through the hole and drew it tight, sealing the tiny face in the hide sack.
So many dead. Has the Long Dark eaten all our souls? Have light and life left the whole world? She rubbed her gaunt belly, fearing Crow Caller's seed might have taken root in her womb. Her bleeding hadn't
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