The Broken Land Read Online Free PDF

my search party will recapture them. How did you escape?”
    Silence.
    “Did my deputy, Sky Messenger, help you?”
    Wampa sucked in air, startled by the suggestion, but she said nothing.
    Wind Woman shrieked through the forest. When she hit the meadow, she tossed up autumn leaves like a playing child, and they fluttered away on the gust.
    The old woman closed her eyes and began Singing her death Song. She had a deep, quavering voice that sent a chill through Deru’s blood. The other woman joined her, and together their voices drifted over the camp. Every warrior quieted to listen.
    Deru rose to his feet.
    Wampa walked closer to him and softly said, “War Chief, it’s not possible. Sky Messenger would never—”
    “That’s what I would have said one finger of time ago. But that was before I saw the tracks on the riverbank.”
    Wampa’s face slackened. “Then … there’s proof?”
    “Not proof. Not yet.” He waved a hand at the two women. “Wampa, take the captives to my fire, and shove some large branches into the coals. Fiery brands always hasten answers.”

Four
    L ong before dawn, my lungs feel like they’re on fire. I’m so exhausted I can barely concentrate. The storm has worsened. Icy wind whips my cape about my legs, hindering me as I climb through the deep snow, trying to reach the trail that runs along the ridgetop. If I can make it to the windswept highlands where the snow isn’t so deep, the running will be easier. But this steep slope is slick and difficult. Towering hickory trees thrash above me, their dark limbs flailing against the faintly brighter sky.
    Somewhere ahead, Gitchi climbs. I don’t see him, but I hear his paws scratching for purchase. The sound makes me work harder.
    I cast a glance over my shoulder. Wavering sheets of snow obscure the landscape. But they’re back there. Seven warriors. One of them is Utz. I heard him calling orders when they almost caught me around midnight.
    I grab hold of an exposed root and pull myself over a ledge where I can look down on my backtrail. Nothing. I see no one. I slump to the snow, trying to catch my breath. They’re probably reeling on their feet, too.
    They know, however, that they can’t let me get too far ahead or the snow will cover my trail and they’ll never find it again.
    I scoop a handful of snow and shove it into my mouth. It goes down cold and seems to become a block of ice in my belly. My stomach knots. I eat more snow and contemplate what orders my friends carry. I have known Deru my entire life. Many times, he has treated me like a son. Despite his affection for me, however, he is war chief. If he believes me guilty of treason, he must make an example of me.
    Which means they have orders to kill me on sight.
    Gitchi trots back and stands at my shoulder, panting. Even in the darkness, his eyes glint when he turns to look at me. I stroke his throat, and he whimpers, as though to say, “Get up. We have to keep moving.”
    I say, “I know,” and force myself to stand. Wavering veils of white blow across the ridgetop. The trail is a vague serpentine slash through the forest, rising and falling with the terrain. Deer have kept it open, their hooves churning the snow away, their legs dredging it back.
    Gitchi trots out ahead and vanishes into the falling snow. I pound the trail behind him.
    It quickly becomes routine: just run, don’t think about the future. Instead, I fall into the past … .
    … She runs at my side, her perfect face streaked with sweat, her long hair dusted with summer pollen … .
    How can these memories be so clear? Her footsteps are there. It’s unnatural. A spike driven into the heart.
    … Occasional touches, a bare brush of skin inflaming the world … Breathing hard because we know what we want of each other, but it must wait … Messages passing between us, directly through lips, eyes, carried on the sweltering, dogwood-perfumed, air …
    Unconsciously, I reach for her, like a man in danger would