by Dakota Chase
Off to one side, a few older boys and girls who seemed close to Rabbit in age were practicing with spears under the watchful eyes of a couple of older men. Across a clearing several stuffed leather pads were set up. The spears were short, maybe four feet long. The kids fit the end of the shafts against backstops on wooden holders, then slipped two fingers into leather loops hanging off the other end of the holder. Then, as we watched, they cast the spears. The wooden holder flipped forward, sending the shafts sailing across the clearing toward the targets. Most of them struck the leather pads.
It looked like fun, and I wanted to try it. Later. Much later, after I got to put Rabbit’s heavy butt down, eat my weight in food, and get about thirty hours of shut-eye.
Just thinking of sleep made me yawn so wide, my jaw crackled. Bear Paw must’ve noticed because he chuckled. “Come, put the carrier down here.” He pointed to a clear area near one of the fires. “Sweet Water!” A girl of seven or so looked up from where she was playing with a pile of stones. “Run and get Summer Wind. Tell her Rabbit has been injured and needs her magic. Tell Gray Wolf as well.”
She jumped up, nodded, and ran off into the cave as Grant and I set Rabbit down. I sighed gratefully and stretched, twisting this way and that, trying to work out the kinks in my back.
More and more of the Bison Clan seemed to realize there were strangers in their midst, because they began to turn away from their work and play and stare at us. A few of the bolder ones walked over, curiosity evidently overcoming cautiousness.
Several people came rushing out of the cave at the same time. In the lead was an old woman, her white hair caught up with a leather thong into a tail. She moved quickly and easily for someone who looked to be as old as my grandmother. She didn’t say anything to us but knelt next to Rabbit and began examining his leg, carefully untying the splint and feeling the bone. I could tell from Rabbit’s expression that no matter how gentle her touch, it still hurt him. She must’ve been Summer Wind, the healer Bear Paw had Sweet Water call.
There was no question as to the man’s identity who followed close on Summer Wind’s heels. First, he looked like an older carbon copy of Rabbit. Second, he carried himself with such authority that I had no doubt he was Gray Wolf, the leader of the Bison Clan.
“What has happened to my son? Are these men responsible?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and made clear the dire consequences that would befall anyone who dared hurt his son without needing to actually put them into words. It was impressive.
Bear Paw spoke up for us at once. “Their names are Ash and Grass. They saved young Rabbit’s life. They are friends of the Bison Clan.”
I had to hold back a snicker at Bear Paw’s mispronunciation of Grant’s name. It made sense to me. The people of the Bison Clan seemed to name themselves after things in their world—Rabbit, Gray Wolf, Bear Paw, Summer Wind, and so forth. Having fire, they would understand “Ash,” but “Grant” would mean nothing to them. “Grass,” on the other hand, would be easily understood.
He looked down at Rabbit, then back at us. “I do not doubt Bear Paw’s word. You are welcome here among the Bison Clan.” He turned and spoke to the rest of the tribe. “Welcome Grass and Ash, brave friends of the Bison Clan.” Looking back at Grant and me, he smiled. “Please, sit. Eat. What is ours is yours.” Then his smile faded as he glared down at Rabbit. “You and I will speak later, after Summer Wind has seen to your hurts.”
“Yes, Father.” Rabbit didn’t sound as if he was looking forward to talking with his dad. I wondered whether the Bison Clan grounded their kids.
Meanwhile Summer Wind was barking instructions to another, younger woman. “Day Lily, make a mash of comfrey and soak several large pieces of birchbark in water. We will wrap his leg. When it dries, it will stay stiff and keep his bones from moving. The comfrey will aid in knitting the break.” She looked up at Gray Wolf. “It feels like a clean break. I don’t think he will have trouble walking once it heals. He is lucky, Gray Wolf.”
“We are the lucky ones, to have someone so gifted in the healing ways still with us, Summer Wind.” Gray Wolf touched his heart, probably a gesture of respect, I thought. It seemed appropriate too. Summer Wind was probably the closest thing to a doctor that they had. Who knows how many lives she saved over her lifetime?
Grant and I settled down near the closest fire. The campfire seemed permanent—it was marked by a ring of stones and had a buildup of ashes inside the circle. Did they cook outside like this every day? What did they do if it rained?
A woman smiled at us and dished out wooden bowls full of steaming stew, handing us each one, along with a sharpened stick. We watched people around us for a minute before realizing you were supposed to spear the meat and vegetables with the pointed stick, like a kebab, and then drink the soup from the bowl.
I was so hungry by then, I would’ve happily chewed and swallowed the stick if I had to, but I admit, the stew was pretty tasty. The meat had a gamy flavor. My uncle and dad went deer hunting every year and usually bagged one. They had it butchered down at the Meat Hut on Main Street, and Mom would make venison stew. This meat had a similar quality. Tasted fine, though. Then again, cooked bear turd would probably have tasted good to me.
Grant watched me take a few bites, then dove into his portion. Maybe he was waiting to see if I keeled over dead, but most likely, he was wondering whether I’d spit it out because it tasted like that cooked bear turd I was thinking about. When I didn’t, I guess he decided it was safe for human consumption.
As we ate, we watched the rest of the Bison Clan. Most of the people who met our eyes smiled at us, but not all. Some looked wary, as if reserving judgment of us until we’d done something to prove ourselves. I couldn’t imagine what—we’d already lugged their leader’s son through the forest and across the grassland instead of leaving him to be lynx kibble. Wasn’t that enough?
Evidently not. I could see suspicion in their expressions as they watched us over the rims of their eating bowls.
A few—very few, thankfully—seemed openly hostile. It was clear they didn’t trust us, didn’t want us there, and would be happier if we left. I mentally shrugged. Oh well. Can’t please everybody, as the saying goes.
One man sat at the farthest fire from the mouth of the cave, and his expression worried me. It was positively malevolent. I could practically feel the animosity coming off him in waves. He looked different from the rest of the Bison Clan. His skin was as pale as milk, almost true white, and his hair lighter still. It was the color of snow and long, falling over his shoulders. Bits of bone and feathers were tied into it, spots of color against a snowy background. His eyes were almost colorless, so pale a blue that they seemed translucent. I didn’t think he suffered from albinism, but he sure as heck didn’t have much melanin in his skin. He looked like a ghost. Like a very angry, very hateful ghost.
Grant nudged me with an elbow. “You see him?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t look like he likes us much.”
“I wonder who he is.”
A new voice broke into our conversation. It was Bear Paw, the hunt leader. He sat next to us and accepted his own bowl of stew from one of the women. “His name is Snow Owl. He is the shaman of the Bison Clan. He has very powerful magic.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t seem to like us much.”
Bear Paw grunted. “He doesn’t like anybody much.”
Grant and I laughed. Bear Paw had a pretty good sense of humor. He was sarcastic. I liked that in a guy.
“Some say his father is Snow Mountain. I believe it—he is as cold and hard as the ice wall to our north. But his magic is necessary to keep the spirits of our totems happy and to keep our enemies away. Without his magic, the herds would vanish and the Bison Clan would starve.”
I shared a silent, knowing look with Grant. A year ago neither of us would’ve believed magic could do any of those things. Now we knew Merlin. Who was to say Snow Owl wasn’t another magician with spells at his fingertips? The last thing we need
ed was for some prehistoric magician with a chip on his shoulder to turn us into frogs or something.
We were going to have to be cautious and really watch our step around Snow Owl until we knew for sure.
Chapter Six
BY THE time Ash and I finished eating, darkness had fallen over the camp of the Bison Clan. The only light came from the campfires and small candles made from stones. Shallow holes had been pecked out of the stone and filled with oil. A wick made from some grassy substance burned. It smelled like gone over cooking oil, but even those tiny flickering lights were helpful in the otherwise complete blackness.
Bear Paw stood up with this empty bowl in his hand, and we followed suit. He set the dirty bowl on the ground near the campfire, then headed into the cave. We did the same and followed on his heels. As we left I noticed a woman take the stack of dirty bowls and begin rinsing them in a large wooden container full of water.
At the entrance to the cave, Bear Paw accepted a stone lamp from a young boy whose job, it seemed, was to distribute them. He handed one to Ash and me and smiled shyly at us.
To my surprise the inside of the cave wasn’t as dark as I’d supposed. A large fire burned brightly in the center. I watched a thick tendril of smoke float up toward the ceiling and disappear through a hole in the cave’s roof.
Well that explained what they did when it rained. They probably cooked inside. The hole in the roof of the cave would keep the fire’s smoke from choking them. I felt a little proud for having figured it out without needing to ask Bear Paw about it.
The cave was much larger than I would’ve suspected. The bare stone ceiling was easily twelve feet high, and the space within would accommodate the entire tribe with room to spare.
They’d already brought Rabbit into the cave. He was lying on a thick fur near the side wall of the cave, sound asleep. I wondered if Summer Wind had given him something to help him sleep and figured she probably had. Good. Poor kid needed a good, long rest.
So did I, I realized. I was bone-tired. I wondered where Ash and I would sleep, but Bear Paw answered my question before I could ask it.
“You two will sleep at my hearth. It is here.” Bear Paw stepped over a row of stones that seemed to act as a perimeter marking his private area. Additional stone circles marked the hearths of other people, Gray Wolf among them. I noticed him sinking to the ground within one of the stone-marked areas.
I was glad to stay with Bear Paw. Both Ash and I had noticed Snow Owl’s looks of hostility, and I figured sleeping at the hunt leader’s campfire was as close to having a private security detail as we could get. Surely nobody would try to attack us while we slept at Bear Paw’s hearth. At least I hoped not.
Inside the area a woman was busy trying to get a couple of children down to sleep. They popped up like corks in a glass of water when they saw us, despite her efforts. She didn’t seem angry, though. Instead she laughed and tickled them both.
The children seemed four or five years old and were identical twins. I couldn’t tell if they were boys or girls, but they looked completely alike, from their red hair right down to their dimples, which deepened when they smiled at us.
Bear Paw gestured toward the people at his hearth. “I thank you for bringing the leader’s son, Rabbit, home. You are welcome here. These are my younger sons, Fire Arrow and Fire Stone. They were born together, very lucky. And this is my mate, Red Fox.”
It was easy to see where the boys inherited their red hair. Although theirs had more orange in it, Red Fox’s long hair was dark red, the color of rubies. She was pretty in a raw, natural way. I realized that even in our own time, she would be the sort of woman who didn’t need makeup to look attractive.
“Thank you for letting us stay with you.” I smiled at Bear Paw’s family, then sat on the ground within the area Bear Paw claimed as his. I reached up and tugged on Ash’s coat, urging him to do the same.
“You are welcome here. We owe you much for saving our leader’s son.” Red Fox’s voice was low-pitched and pleasant. “Would you care for tea?”
“We don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It is no trouble. Bear Paw takes tea before bed, so I have water boiling on the central hearth already. I will bring you some.” She smiled at us again, then turned to her children. “Now, you two will settle down and go to sleep, or there will be no stories tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Mama,” they chimed together, their voices as identical as their faces. After a few minutes of tussling and tickling, they seemed to get comfortable and fall asleep. I grinned as I realized even their soft little snores were identical.
Bear Paw smiled indulgently at his sons, then turned his attention to us. “I am sure Gray Wolf will have questions for you tomorrow, but I would know where you come from. You are not Bison Clan, and do not have the look of the any of the Green River peoples. You must’ve come from far away.”
Ash nodded. “Farther than you can imagine.”
“We are of the American people.” It was true, and naming a tribe might help ease Bear Paw’s curiosity.
“I have not heard of these people.”
“I’m not surprised. We live far, far away. I don’t think any of us have made this journey before.” That was true too, as far as I knew. Unless Merlin had sent someone else into the past. I doubted it.
Bear Paw nodded. “What brings you to the land of the Bison Clan? No, wait…. Do not answer. Gray Wolf will want to hear your stories.” He yawned just as Red Fox returned from the central fire, carrying three wooden handleless mugs full of steaming liquid.
“Tonight, it is mint and clover. It’s Bear Paw’s favorite tea.” She handed a cup to each of us, but her warmest smile was directed at Bear Paw.
He smiled back at her, and I could see real affection twinkle in his eyes. It was obvious he loved her, and that sort of made me feel both good and a little bit jealous. Was I ever going to have anyone who looked at me that way? Sure, Ash and I had a thing going, sort of, but our relationship was kind of screwy. We kissed now and then and joked around, and when we did, things were really good between us, but then we’d go right back to arguing and pissing each other off again. I couldn’t figure it out, and sometimes, I fully admit, I just got tired of trying.
The tea didn’t taste like any tea I was used to drinking. It wasn’t spicy. In fact, it tasted a lot like hot water and grass. There was a hint of mint flavor in it, though, and it was warm. It went a long way toward chasing away the chill I felt. Even with the central fire burning, the cave of the Bison Clan was cold and drafty.
After we finished drinking the tea, Red Fox took our cups and produced a pair of heavy furs that smelled strongly of wood smoke. She handed them to Ash and me. The fur was dark brown and thick. I wondered if it was originally worn by a bear. Given her mate’s name, I figured it probably was. I took the fur and wrapped myself in it, grateful for the warmth if not the smell.
Ash and I lay down side by side, each wrapped up in our fur like human burritos. The ground was hard, but it didn’t matter. I was too tired to care. It wasn’t long before my eyelids drifted close. I knew sleep was close and happily gave myself over to it. I didn’t know what the next day would bring or how close we were to finding the hunting talisman we needed, but for now, I was content to take a good, long siesta.
TWO LITTLE voices, filled with childish excitement, woke Ash and me the next morning. The twins bounced on us and rubbed our face with cool, sticky hands. Identical laughs trilled. “Wake up! The sun is born! Wake up!”
Ash’s voice was still thick with sleep and heavy with grumpiness. “What? The sun is what? Argh. It’s the middle of the night.”
“It’s dawn.” I reached over and shook his shoulder. “Get up.”
He mumbled something unintelligible, then rolled over. I sat up and tried to rub the last of sleep from my eyes. Then I frowned. He totally didn’t get to sleep if I had to be awake. I grinned at Bear Paw’s twin boys. “I think Uncle Ash needs a little help waking up. Go g
et him!”
They shrieked with childish delight and pounced on Ash, tickling and laughing in a whirlwind of energy only kids under five can muster that early in the morning. It worked too. Ash sat up, growling and grimacing and directing most of his anger at me. “You suck, Grant.”
“Yup. I’m evil. Pure evil. Now, get up.”
Bear Paw was already gone, and Red Fox appeared soon after, calling the children away. She smiled at us. “Come, we will eat, then Bear Paw says Gray Wolf wants to see you.”
“Thank you. We’ll be right along.” I had a more pressing matter to attend to, one I didn’t really want to ask Red Fox about, namely the pressure in my bladder that was growing worse by the minute. I waited for her to herd the children away before turning to Ash. “Hey, I gotta pee. Where do you think they go?”
“How should I know?” Ash was obviously still upset I had the kids wake him.
“Oh, for God’s sake, lighten up. Okay, come on. We’ll find Bear Paw and ask him.”
We folded our borrowed bear furs and left them piled neatly inside Bear Paw’s hearth, then went out of the cave. It seemed life for the Bison Clan started very early in the morning. Almost all the Bison Clan were outside already. Some were eating or drinking tea, while others worked on skins or chopped vegetables and meat. There was a gaggle of preteens milling around the far end of the area while an older man set up their leather targets.
We found Bear Paw at the same fireplace where we ate yesterday, drinking a cup of tea. An older woman looked up as we approached. She was ladling leftover stew into bowls. There was something about her face that looked familiar, and I realized she looked a lot like Bear Paw. His mother, maybe. I smiled at her, then turned to Bear Paw.
“Um, Bear Paw, where do the Bison Clan go to, um, make morning water?” I felt ridiculous asking that way, but I didn’t think he’d understand what a bathroom was, or why I needed to find one.
