by Dakota Chase
“It was an accident. It doesn’t count.”
Grant snorted as he trotted back from the target carrying his spear. “Bull. I hit it. Just admit it—I’m better at this than you are.”
“Not a chance. Throw enough times and one is bound to hit the target. You just got lucky.”
“You’re so petty.”
“Pretty? Thank you, I know.”
“Ass.”
I lifted my nose in the air and gathered my weapons. “Don’t start that again.” I turned away to return them to Musk Ox since he’d called a halt to the practice session until after the midday meal. Also because it gave me an excuse to walk away from Grant without giving him the opportunity to have the last word.
He was right. I was being petty.
I decided he was just going to have to deal with it.
GRANT AND I accepted wooden bowls filled with vegetables and chunks of meat from Red Fox and walked to a conveniently placed log to sit and eat. It was far enough from where most of the Bison Clan sat eating for us to talk quietly without being overheard.
“How long do you think we’re going to have to be here?” I picked up a piece of meat with my fingers and popped it into my mouth. It was surprisingly tender and only a little bit gamy tasting. Casting spears took a lot of energy, and I was hungry, which made it taste better.
Grant shrugged. “Until after the mammoth hunt, I guess. I’ve been paying attention, and none of the Bison Clan have mammoth on their hunting talismans.”
“Do you think—”
My mouth shut like a bear trap when Snow Owl, of all people, decided to join us on our log. He wedged himself between Grant and me, forcing us to scoot farther apart to make room.
He was wearing a thick black fur that smelled strongly of smoke and sweat. The contrast of the dark fur against his skin made his pasty white color look even paler. I wondered if he knew it, if he wore the fur purposely to make himself seem more ghostlike. Most of the Bison Clan seemed to harbor a sort of reverence tinged with a heavy dose of fear when he was around. I figured they thought he had magical powers—the jury was still out on whether he did as far as I was concerned—and walked carefully in his presence. The only one who didn’t seem to fear him at all was Gray Wolf, but that might’ve been all a show Gray Wolf put on. I guess it wouldn’t be smart for a leader to show fear of anyone, particularly the tribe’s shaman, and I wondered how Gray Wolf felt privately. Did he fear Snow Owl too? Or did he know Snow Owl well enough to understand Snow Owl’s magic was nothing but smoke and mirrors?
“You have been practicing with the spear thrower. I watched you. You show promise.” It was more words than Snow Owl had spoken to us since we’d arrived at the Bison Clan camp, and his fake smile and compliment gave me shivers. I didn’t know what he was up to, but it was obvious he was going to try to pump us for information.
Being this close to Snow Owl made me shiver. Not only did the white of his skin make his teeth look darkly yellow when he smiled, but he’d filed or chipped a couple of them into points. Snow Owl had fangs.
Grant avoided answering by shoving a piece of meat into his mouth and chewing. Dammit. I wish I’d been quick enough to do it first. I did not want to have a conversation with Snow Owl. He was creepy, and I didn’t trust him. “Um, yeah. We’re working on it.”
“Tell me about your tribe. The Americans, you call yourselves? Do you honor the spirits? The Bison Spirit, the Lion Spirit? Do you hunt the Great Ones?”
“Um, we don’t have Great Ones where we live.”
One of Snow Owl’s sleek, white eyebrows arched. “I have heard of nowhere the Great Ones did not wander. They go south when the weather warms, then return here when the bitter winds blow.”
“I guess they don’t go south far enough. I mean, you never followed them south, did you?” That was it, Ash, I told myself. Be sarcastic. Way to piss the creepy pale magician off. Maybe he’ll turn you into a rabbit and drop you in the dinner pot.
His smile was more of a grimace. “I know a great many things. I have the ear of the spirits. They tell me their secrets.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re besties with the spirits. Why don’t you go ask them about the Americans if you don’t believe us, and quit wasting our time?”
When Snow Owl’s expression crumpled into a fierce scowl, I realized I might’ve gone too far, but it was too late to take it back. “You should take care with your words, interloper. Not all the Bison Clan are happy you’re here. Gray Wolf sometimes does not see the lion among the deer, but I do.”
Grant had finished chewing and jumped into the conversation, probably hoping to defuse it before Snow Owl turned me into a bug and stepped on me. “We’re not here to make trouble. We’re just visiting, and after the hunt, we’ll go back to our people. You don’t need to worry about us, Snow Owl. We mean the Bison Clan no harm, I swear it.”
He hissed at Grant, spitting his words out between his yellow teeth. “As if your words can be trusted! You will return to your tribe, yes, and bring them news of the Bison Clan and our plentiful lands full of game and luck. Then the Americans will come north and try to take what is ours!”
Grant shook his head. “No! We’re not spies, I swear!”
“Save your breath, Grass. He doesn’t want to believe us. He made his mind up about us the minute we walked into camp carrying Rabbit’s stretcher.” My mouth was in high gear, and there was no reeling my tongue in at this point. It’s like it had a mind of its own. “He’s the one who can’t be trusted. He wouldn’t know the truth if it snuck up behind him and bit him on the ass.” I stood. “Come on. I want to go visit with Rabbit before we have to go back to the practice field, anyway.”
Grant winced but nodded and followed me toward the center of the camp. Neither of us looked back, but I could feel Snow Owl’s ice-blue eyes burning holes in my back. I was starting to get worried now. Had I just made us an enemy? If Snow Owl hadn’t hated us before, he sure as hell wasn’t fond of us now that I’d shot my mouth off at him.
I suppose Grant knew me well enough to read the question in my expression. “Don’t sweat it, Ash. He’s a total jerk, and I don’t think he has any more magic in him than we do. I mean, if he did, he would’ve cast a spell on us already, right? It’s obvious he didn’t want us here from the minute we walked into camp yesterday.”
“I guess.” I appreciated Grant’s support, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just lit a fuse to a very large, very dangerous stick of dynamite.
“Still, you really need to learn to keep your mouth shut sometimes.”
It was true, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. “I only said what we were both thinking.”
“Thinking it is one thing. Saying it to somebody who might or might not have magic but definitely holds a position of power in the tribe is something else.”
I grumbled but finally managed to keep my mouth closed. Arguing with Grant wasn’t going to help the situation, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to alienate the one guy I knew I could count on while we were with the Bison Clan.
At least, not right at that moment. My feelings could change at any time and usually did whenever Grant eventually did or said something that irritated me.
For now, though, I was happy to accept his support and shrug off his criticism. More than anything, I was happy to go inside the dim cave to visit Rabbit and get away from Snow Owl’s malevolent glare.
Chapter Eight
“HOW ARE you feeling, Rabbit?” I sat down next to Rabbit’s bed—which was just a couple of hides stuffed with hay, much like the practice field targets—and smiled. Ash settled in next to me. Rabbit still looked pale, but his expression was more relaxed, as if the pain had been wiped away. His return smile was a bit weak, though.
“I am healing. Summer Wind has given me a tea to dull the pain. She says I should be healed enough to go on the mammoth hunt. I am strong, she says, and the evil spirits that sometimes cause the black withering disease after a bone break
couldn’t take hold in me.” He looked proud, as if the lack of infection was entirely his own doing.
Ash grinned at him. “Good. I’m glad you’re doing better and will be able to come along. Grass and I have been practicing today with the atlatl. It’s not easy.”
Rabbit looked surprised. “Musk Ox is teaching you?”
“Yeah. Gray Wolf told him to.”
“That’s good. He was our best hunter until he grew too old to go on long hunts.”
Ash looked at me, and he seemed as confused as I felt. “Too old? He doesn’t look much older than my dad.”
Rabbit shrugged. “Musk Ox has seen more than the turning of four double handfuls of seasons. Gray Wolf says when a man’s hair turns the color of snow, his spear arm grows weak. Now Musk Ox stays behind to help guard the camp and the children and those who do not hunt.”
That reminded me of a question I’d had. “Not everyone hunts, right?”
“Of course not.” Rabbit snorted a little. “There are other important things. Summer Wind heals and must work to gather her herbs and roots. It is why she never took a hunter’s name.” He beamed then. “I will have a hunter’s name. My totem will come to me in a dream after my first kill, and I will take his name.”
Ah. That explained why not everyone in the Bison Clan had the names of predatory animals. The children must be named after small, harmless creatures like a rabbit or a cricket, then gave those birth names up when they became fully adult members of the tribe. Hunters took the names of either a predator or large prey animal, while those who did other tasks, like healers, took their names from nature. It made sense.
“So, you haven’t killed anything yet?” Ash voiced the next question I was about to put to Rabbit.
“Just small animals in my snares. They don’t count. Only when you kill an animal who could kill you do you become an adult. Everyone knows this.” Rabbit looked at us as if we were idiots.
“Oh, sure, we knew that.” I didn’t want him to think the Americans were any less wise than the Bison Clan. Why, I didn’t know. It just felt important to me. Pride was funny that way.
Rabbit would never meet anyone else who was American. He wouldn’t live to see the States formed or experience anything in our world, but it still disturbed me to think Rabbit might feel the Americans were any less savvy than the Bison Clan.
“Yeah, we just didn’t know if you managed to kill anything at all yet.” Ash shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“I have seen thirteen turns of the seasons! Of course I have caught animals in snares. Once I caught a wolverine. It was a young one, so it was small, but it was still vicious. It wasn’t dead yet, and it bit me.” He showed us a nasty scar on his arm. “I killed it with a rock and gave the skin to my mother.”
I tried not to grimace at the thought of skinning anything. I just didn’t have the stomach for it and had to fight down the fear that when push came to shove, I wouldn’t be able to cast a spear into a living, breathing animal. “That’s… great. Really great, Rabbit. She must’ve been pleased.”
“She was very proud. She fashioned the skin into a hood and wears it when the wind blows cold.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes before Summer Wind came back to the fire. She collected a few herbs from the drying rack next to her hearth, then left again.
I decided it was time to get the answer to another question I had. “So, Rabbit, who are the Deer Clan?”
He scowled, then turned his head and spat into the dirt. His action left no doubt about how he felt. “They are the enemy of the Bison Clan who live on the other side of the Sea of Grass. Sometimes they come to raid us.” His voice grew louder as he became agitated. “When I am a man, I will make a raid on them and kill many of their warriors. I will take their women and their furs and food and leave them to starve.”
Okay. No love lost between the Bison Clan and the Deer Clan. Got it.
“Are there other tribes?”
“Oh yes. There are many tribes who live along the Green River. The Bison Clan.” Rabbit looked as though he was seriously considering his answer. “The Pheasant Clan. The Silver Trout Clan. The Elk Clan, and a few others. During the warm season, White Horse, our best trader, goes on a long journey to trade with several of the tribes. Usually we send the salt that we get from the Great Waters, and preserved fish. My father says salt is valuable because the other tribes live too far away to get it for themselves.”
Summer Wind returned to her patient and shooed us away. “Go, drink some tea, then return to Musk Ox for training. Rabbit needs rest.”
We smiled, said goodbye, and hurried to the fireplace outside, where a woman was ladling out cups of steaming tea. I tasted mint and something else that was familiar although it took me a few minutes to place it. Then it came to me—it was raspberry, a favorite of mine. I found I even liked it in tea. I drank it down and asked for a second cup.
Afterward we headed back to the practice field. A few kids were already there, and we got right back into the swing of things, casting spears and trying hard to get ours to stick in the targets we aimed for. In between throws Ash and I talked quietly with each other.
“I’m worried about Snow Owl. He really hates us,” Ash said. He’d just trotted back from the targets with his spear, and we waited our turn to approach the throwing line again.
“I don’t know if he actually hates us, but he sure doesn’t want us here. I wonder why.” It was a question that continued to puzzle me. We hadn’t done anything threatening to his position as shaman. Then I thought about my father and the corporate politics I’d grown up around. “You know, I can see a lot of similarities between the Bison Clan and my father’s company.”
Ash snorted. “Yeah? Does Gray Wolf and your dad use the same tailor?”
“Funny. Not. Listen and think. Both my dad’s corporation and the Bison Clan are run by strong, independent men who make unilateral decisions. Their word is law, right? But they ultimately have other people they need to answer to. My dad needs to worry about the board of directors and investors. Gray Wolf needs to worry about the other hunters, the people of the tribe, and his shaman. That’s when it hit me.”
“What hit you? Please tell me it was something hard and painful.”
“Will you stop being such an ass?”
“Then stop thinking so much about my butt.”
It was only by virtue of ironclad will that I didn’t haul off and deck him. Ash really infuriated me sometimes. Unfortunately, that always made me want to kiss him. I don’t know why—it’s just the way it was with us. “Hostile takeovers.”
“Excuse me? Hostile what?”
“Takeovers. It’s when a person or group of people plot to get the head guy fired or buy up controlling shares of stock and take over the company.”
“That happened to your dad?”
“Well, no, but I know it’s something he’s always on guard about. It happens all the time. And I think that may be Snow Owl’s problem. I think he wants to be both shaman and leader of the Bison Clan.”
Ash stepped up to the throw line and fit his spear into his atlatl. He heaved and cast, his spear sailing across the practice field. It hit the ground and slid a dozen feet before stopping. “Shit. Missed again. Why?”
“You don’t aim. You need to focus.”
He glared at me. “Not why did I miss. Why would Snow Owl want to be both shaman and leader? Its seems like double the work to me.”
“Well, yeah, I guess it would be, but he would have ultimate power over the Bison Clan. He’d get to make all the decisions. The Bison Clan all believe in their spirits, right? I think if the shaman was leader, nobody would go up against him. All he’d have to do was say the spirits backed his decision.”
Ash trotted out to reclaim his spear. When he returned, he stopped me before I could walk up to the throw line. “Even if you’re right, it doesn’t explain why Snow Owl hates us.”
“Like I said, I don’t think he actively hates us. I thin
k he’s suspicious of anyone he can’t control with his power within the Bison Clan. We don’t know him. We aren’t familiar with his authority or the traditions of the Bison Clan. We’re not Bison Clan. He probably believes the American tribe has their own shaman, so he doesn’t hold influence over us. Therefore we’re a threat to his plans.”
Ash favored me with a small nod. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess. So what do we do about it?”
I stepped past him and fit my spear into the atlatl. “Nothing, really. We keep watch, that’s all. Try not to give him any more reason not to trust us. Keep out of his way until we find the talisman, I guess. And make sure he doesn’t do anything to turn the rest of the Bison Clan against us and get us kicked out before we do.” I sighted carefully, then flung my arm out. The atlatl flipped over, extending my reach, and the spear sailed in a straight, if slightly wobbly, line across the field. The sharp flint blade struck the target, embedding in it, the shaft quivering. “Whoo! Did you see that? I hit it!”
“Yeah, yeah, great job.” Ash didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but then, I wouldn’t have expected him to. We were too competitive.
“You’re just jealous because I hit the target.”
“I am not. God, you’re so arrogant. I can’t stand it.” He gave me a push that rocked me on my feet. “Loser.”
I pushed him back and nearly succeeded in knocking him down. “Take that back!”
“Why? You probably couldn’t hit the target again if your life depended on it.”
“His life just might. And so might yours.”
We both turned to see Bear Paw standing behind us. Musk Ox stood off to one side, and although he didn’t say anything, he looked as pissed off as Bear Paw did. “Huh?”
“Have you two never been hunting?” He shook his head at the obvious folly of this strange American tribe who sent their young people out into the wilderness untrained and unsupervised. “How have any of your tribe survived? How did you not starve to death after leaving them?”
“Um, plants. We ate some.” Ash looked to me for support.
