“When you see my cape on this rock,” I pointed to the granite boulder in the center of the river, “you will know it’s safe to come back to the forest where I live and where you live.”
The Forest People nodded as Red Hawk spoke my words to them.
“We will go to the high places,” Three Scars repeated, “and will return to the yellow flowers when Fox Girl signals it is good.”
They turned to leave, their people looking from one to the other, and then back at Tore. The one in the center turned around and held up the granite cross given to them generations ago by Tore elders, a sign between the two people of peace, and then he held high the piece of fox fur, signifying the oaths between us. He turned back, and they ran, their long legs carrying them away quickly, their distance from us took only seconds, their speed remarkable, a blur of hair and muscle streaking into the distance like oil paint on canvas.
I watched them fade into the trees beyond the clearing across the river, their forms vanishing, the quaking ground beneath me slowing and then stilling within minutes. I wondered where they went. I let out a breath and hoped I’d see them again.
The ground began to simmer under my feet again and I blinked, glancing to Three Scars, wondering why the earth now shook. A chorus of low growls rumbled to my left. Instantly Tore warriors howled, screeched, and called out in deep guttural unison. Three Scars spun me around, circling his arms around me. “Oh!” I belted out, and nearly lost my breath. I caught sight of another group of either warriors who had shifted, or a group of Forest People, running directly toward us, coming up from our side of the river, charging us!
“Who are they?” I asked, my voice sticking like chalk on a dry surface.
“I’m getting you out of here,” he said, slinging me onto his back. “Hang on!” He spun around and started running back through the trees. The wind sweeping passed me, my hair blinding me. The ground shook beneath us, reverberated through him, rattling my chest pressed against his back. Behind us the sounds of growls, roars, and muscle smashing against muscle tore through the air, my heart pounding inside me, wishing to be as far away as possible. I felt something behind us, a heavy presence, an impending danger that I dared not look back to see. I clutched him tighter, and the thick air behind us gained ground.
Large hands grasped my sides, pulling me from his back. As soon as I was ripped away Three Scars spun around, instantly shifting from human to Forest Person, his instant transformation shocked me as I flew through the air, tossed like a feather from a bird. “Three Scars!” a guttural cry erupted from the depths of me, and I landed against a cedar tree with a thud that shook the branches above me as twigs and dry branches rained down over me. Three Scars grabbed the attacker by the throat, swirling him around, slamming him to the ground. The force he used was greater than anything I imagined and his strength easily outweighed the other shifter. Three Scars stood over him, all the force of his massive body pressing onto him, that smaller pinned down body writhed, his mouth open, hoping for air, but receiving none.
Three Scars stopped, pulled his hands from around his neck, stepped away, low growls pouring out of his mouth, his chest heaving, eyes intent on his adversary. I glanced down to see the other shifter, though I thought he might be dead, he moved away, shuffled a few feet from Three Scars, never breaking eye contact with him. Fear evident in his stare, hate and hurt alive there, too.
He climbed to his feet, turned and ran away.
Three Scars looked to me, and I scrambled to my feet, my back aching from the impact, a searing pain through my shoulder. I limped and then gained my footing, and ran to him, hoping he’d remember me, counting on his memories to be stronger than his instinct. His dark eyes watching me, softer now, pensive. I smashed into him, throwing my arms around him, pressing my slight frame against his massive form. “Please remember me,” I said, and leaned my face against him. I gripped him, his hair soft beneath my fingertips. His arms moved, slowly at first, and he lifted me up, so we were face to face. “It’s me. It’s me,” I whispered and wrapped my arms around his neck. His dark eyes seemed to smile, his gaze soft and tender.
I closed my eyes, pressed my head to his shoulder, peace floating through me that he knew me, remembered me, remembered us. I felt him shifting with me in his arms, the muscle mass diminishing, the hair receding, the form I knew returning. His skin beneath my fingertips emerging.
“You ran to me,” he whispered.
I hugged him tighter.
“You didn’t run away,” his voice was soft, his tone confused.
I looked in his eyes.
He let me go, moved me a few inches from him, appraising me. “You run to danger, Little Foot.” His brows furrowed, worried.
“I ran to you, not to danger,” I said, confused.
Three Scars looked over me to the other warriors. I turned back, as the other shifters ran away. Tore warriors began shifting back to human form, their bodies shrinking, their faces reemerging to forms I recognized. Some were bloodied, some bruised, but all were accounted for and alive.
Running Bear walked over, his eyes set on Three Scars. “You gotta do something about that guy. This won’t end, and if it does it won’t end well for them,” he said. He walked past us, toward the trees. Stopping midstride he looked back at me. “Little Foot, you’re just like us, only smaller.” He nodded, approval on his face, a sense of respect in his eyes.
We walked back to camp in silence.
Three Scars didn’t hold my hand.
Chapter 14
The tent filled with a rich aroma. Five large pots simmered over open flames to one side of the space. We entered through the back, near the table with bowls, bread, silverware, and cups. Three Scars walked ahead of me by a few feet, I lingered behind, tired, my mind racing with questions, with the sights and sounds and smell of the Forest People, the Tore warriors, and the battle that replayed over and over.
A low murmur spread through the people and they stole glances at me. Some held their head high, waiting to make eye contact, then nodding once at me. Others looked away, all of them quieted when Three Scars turned to me. “You are making new legends for our people and our history, Little Foot.”
“How so?” I asked and followed his lead, taking a bowl and some bread. We walked to the open pots, steam simmering above them, thick stew bubbling inside. He ladled three scoops into his bowl. “Rabbit?” he asked someone stirring the food so it wouldn’t burn. She half closed her eyes, and glanced at me, and nodded. I scooped two large spoons into my bowl, and he turned to me. “You hunted?” he questioned, his tone teetering from astonished to perplexed. “This morning,” I said. He shook his head and walked to the table nearest us. I spooned the thick mix into my mouth and savored the rich food, thick and hearty, warming me inside.
“You need to stay in camp, and not go out there. It’s more dangerous now than it was before today,” he said.
“Staying away from the place I feel most at ease is like trying to live without breathing,” I said. He looked up briefly, his eyes distant, maybe like he understood the sentiment.
Whoever that was by the river, was not going away, and the danger all around me crystalized into a clear barrier from me and my way of life. We ate in silence. It was hard to determine what his thoughts might be. Between the threat from government trackers, the request from the Forest People for me to go with them, the attacker who returned today, and the slow simmering undercurrent from Running Bear, there appeared to be danger at every turn. I imagined he thought of this, too. I didn’t need to add going deeper into the forest by myself to the mix.
“They want to see you,” he said. I glanced at him and followed his stare toward the elders. Each sat at a different table, and I assumed it was their families who sat scattered around them. The second elder looked my way and waved a hand for us to join them. I looked to Three Scars, his bowl cradled in his wide hands. “Come,” he said and though my bowl was nearly empty, I placed my bread inside and followed him.
>
“Sit,” he said and nodded directly across from the elder to an opening barely wide enough for one person. I squeezed in next to Three Scars our sides smashed together, his stature still towering above me in a sitting position. The other people slid over, allowing a few inches on either side, but still it was tight.
“Tell me, Little Foot, how it went today.” His eyes sparked, excited.
“It went fine. Red Hawk and Three Scars translated everything, and I think the Forest People will stay away from the area,” I said.
He nodded, a look on his face revealed he already knew everything. “What happened to your cape?” he asked, his eyes now solemn. “Oh,” I paused, realizing this was the real question, and the story he wanted to hear most. “I cut it. Gave part of it to them, and…” my sentence trailed off, my cheeks started to flush.
“You declared an oath today, Little Foot. Is this right?”
I lifted my head and nodded.
He dipped his head. “You feed the people with bear and rabbit, you claim Tore people as your own, you protect Forest People, and you swear an oath in front of everyone that no harm will come to them from your hands?” he questioned.
“Yes. I will not betray them, or this people, or even myself. We live and eat from the same forest, the same trees shelter each of us, our homes rest on the same ground. The oath I took today was for them, but it encompasses all of us.”
“Today, you have changed the course of a river, a teeming river filled with memories like fish, filled with ancient history. Today your brave actions and your words have allied our two peoples, more than ever before. We don’t want war with Forest People, because their survival and their secrets are also our survival and our secrets. We took you as our own for Birch, because he trusted us to care for you, but we see you are more like our people than your people. You have a fearless nature, you accept things which are difficult to understand, and your care for this people show us why Birch sent you here – we are the same.” His deep-set eyes imparted more than his words. “But there is one thing you must know, Little Foot.”
I tilted my head.
“Be careful because even the strongest tree can only bend so far.”
I looked in his eyes. “But I’m not a tree. I’m a bow,” I said.
He smiled and dipped his head again. “I believe you are right about this.” He looked to Three Scars imparting something in his eyes I didn’t understand. Three Scars held his gaze, the two seeming to speak some secret language in the silence.
Chapter 15
I sat on the bear skin rugs watching the fire, warming my hands. I reached to my shoulder and pressed my warm palms to the area that hurt. Just bruised, but still the warmth soothed the sore muscles. I glanced at the fur cape notched out at the hem.
“I need to see your shoulder, check for any serious injury.”
“I’m okay. It’s just a bruise,” I said.
He looked at me, disbelieving.
“You live with Forest People, you defy most conventional wisdom, you see the world in a different way than most people,” he said.
“And I run to danger?” I asked.
He looked me square in the eyes. “I need to see your shoulder,” he said, his tone firm.
I let out a breath. “Fine.” I peeled off my t-shirt, leaving my undershirt intact, stood to my feet and turned around.
“Hold still,” he said and touched my shoulder. I flinched, the touch more painful than I thought it would be. “This shade of purple should not be here,” he said, and placed his hand on my other shoulder. Turning me to face him, he stared down at me, a mix of concern and compassion in his eyes.
“What happened out there? Who was that guy, and who were those people?” I asked.
He blinked and looked down, a slight sigh escaping from his lips. “His name is Black Crow, and he blames me for something terrible.” He moved his hand from my shoulder. Turning away from me he bent down, stoking the fire.
I waited, the silence thick between us.
“When I told you I was the danger, I did not lie to you. I have warned you, Little Foot.” He glanced at me, and looked down into the flames, but it seemed liked he looked into the past, a faraway stare. I didn’t know how to reach him, to pull him back to the present.
When no more words were spoken, I climbed onto the bear skins, leaving him to his memories, his thoughts, his world. I pulled the blankets to my shoulders, watching him live through some terrible event from his past. He blamed himself, and though I might never know what happened, I knew he was not the danger he claimed. I didn’t know how to show him the truth.
“Be brave, Three Scars,” I whispered and closed my eyes. The elder taught me about forgiveness. Maybe he needed the same thing – for himself.
Somewhere in the night I felt his presence on the next pile of bear skins. The heat from his being shifting to me, and I turned over to see his silhouette, eyes closed, chest rising slow and even. My heart ached for him, wished I could calm the storm, but not knowing what haunted him prevented me from fully understanding. I moved closer to him, touching his hand, laying my hand in his. No matter what he thought of himself, I viewed him as honorable, and noble. I had no doubt of this.
I closed my eyes again. Thoughts of Forest People, Tore warriors, and Three Scars’ gaze into the fire floated through my mind as I fell back to sleep. I tossed and turned, my shoulder aching as I lay on it. Rolling to one side I winced and tried to get comfortable. He pressed his hand against my shoulder, warming it. The pain soothed, lessening slightly and I fell back into a light sleep. I shifted and the pain returned, his hand finding the exact spot again, and I relaxed as the heat, more intense now, pressed into my muscles. I turned onto my stomach hoping to relieve the pressure, and his hand stayed pressed to my shoulder. “You should see a doctor,” his voice was low, quiet. “I’m fine,” I whispered, and turned to face him. Though the tipi was dark, a faint flicker of light illuminated his eyes. I thought of that first time I saw him on the path, his low growl, a warning to me, his gaze at me through the fire when he spoke up for me and promised to protect me. How different he was in the dark, in the quiet now. He said he’d warned me he was dangerous. From our first encounter he relayed that same message. But I knew the truth. He was no danger, and his care for me revealed that over and over again.
I reached out and gently touched his face, tracing my finger along his jaw line. Though his features were chiseled and masculine, his rough edges softened when we were alone. He closed his eyes for a moment, and I traced the edges of his profile, memorizing them for some future time when I’d want to recall this moment. “Little Foot,” he whispered. “Shhh,” I said and placed my finger on his lips. “I’m running to you,” I whispered.
He reached up and circled his hand around my wrist, gently lowering it to the empty space between us. “Rest, Little Foot.”
He lay his hand over mine and sighed.
“You’re good to me,” I whispered, and moved closer. He closed his eyes, and I lay my head on his shoulder. “Good night,” I said, and closed my eyes. He turned slightly, shifting his arm under me, pulling me close to his side.
“Good night,” he whispered, his breath brushing my cheek.
“I don’t run to danger, you know. I don’t see danger, only possibilities,” I yawned.
“Rest, Little Foot.”
Chapter 16
My eyes fluttered open, the sound of low voices outside the tipi seeped in through the seams. I reached in the dark for Three Scars, but the space was empty, cold.
“You have to do something. He’s coming back for you, and he’s hurting her trying to get to you. She’s been honorable to Tore and you vowed to protect her,” a voice said.
“I will take care of this,” Three Scars said, his voice anguished. “She will not be hurt by him again. I never thought he’d carry this hate for so long,” Three Scars said, his voice low and guarded.
“If you don’t handle this the elders will intervene.”
“Are they speaking of it?” Three Scars asked.
“Yeah.” It sounded like Red Hawk, but I wasn’t positive. “What are you going to do?”
“End this once and for all. I know he blames me for her death, and he has a right to, but I can’t change the past,” Three Scars said.
“She died in childbirth. I’m sorry, but that’s hardly your fault. I know she was his sister, but he’s got to be stopped,” the other voice said.
“I’ll speak with the elders and ask for guidance,” Three Scars said.
“Yeah, and you need to watch out for Running Bear.”
“I know,” Three Scars said.
A few seconds passed and the tipi flap opened. A gush of early morning air rushed in, and he closed the opening quietly. He lay down on the bear skins, staring up, watching the stars through the small opening at the top where the smoke swirled up an away. I wondered what ran through his mind.
I closed my eyes and a single tear slipped out. It was the hollow emptiness that floated through me continually, but seemed to disappear, as though it never existed, when I was near him. I hoped that feeling wouldn’t return, but I needed to prepare myself for it. After all, I planned on going home. Maybe my presence here was causing more harm than good. If so than the right thing to do would be to leave, to let Three Scars have his life back, grow closer to his brother, find peace again. I lay there awake, waiting for light to peek through the canvas, so I could get up, get moving, and more importantly, keep the thoughts of me leaving, away. I wondered who this enemy was, too. Was he the same one at the river? It made sense, especially because he targeted Three Scars. And if I were gone, then perhaps this enemy would leave, too.
My Name Is Cree Page 12
