Children of the Dawnland (North America's Forgotten Past Series) by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O'Neal Gear Page B
Authors: W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O'Neal Gear
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earth.
And a boy’s voice calls my name … .
CHAPTER 15
S TARLIGHT GLISTENED ON the roof poles over Riddle’s head. She lay warm in her hides, listening to Twig, who was dreaming.
“No,” Twig said softly, and Riddle could tell she was crying. “Help me. Please, help me.”
Riddle rolled to her side to study her daughter. Only the top of Twig’s head showed over the edge of the buffalo hide. Her long black hair snaked across the sleeping mat. Twig whimpered and turned over onto her stomach. Her hands clenched and opened, as if she were trying to reach for someone.
Riddle threw off her hides and went to kneel by Twig.
“Twig?” she called softly. “Twig, wake up. It’s all right. Twig?”
“Mother?” Twig whispered, her voice sleepy.
“Yes, I’m right here. You’re safe.”
“Oh, Mother, I had the dream again! This time I saw a village on fire. And the Ice Giants turned black!” Tears ran down her cheeks.
Riddle stroked Twig’s hair gently. “What else did you see?”
Twig took a breath as if to speak, then shook her head. “There was a—a boy’s voice … and a blue spiderweb. I—it … never mind. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Riddle’s heart sank. Twig didn’t want to tell her, and she knew why. Riddle feared powerful Spirit dreams. She often shouted at Twig when she claimed to have had one. Mostly because Riddle had never learned how to control them, so on the few occasions when they came to her, they controlled her with such terrifying power that she thought she was dying.
Twig squeezed her eyes closed, a clear signal that she didn’t want to talk anymore. “Thank you, Mother, but you can go back to sleep now. I’m all right, really.”
Riddle let out a tense sigh. “Twig? Do you want to go live with Screech Owl?”
Twig opened her eyes. For several heartbeats she didn’t answer. Finally, she whispered, “Do you want me to?”
“No, not really, but he could teach you a great deal, and maybe … well, I’ve tried hard to kill the power that lives inside you, Twig. But if you really are destined to be
a great dreamer, you could save our people. I just, well, I pray the dreaming is not as hard on you as it is on me.”
“Why is it so hard?”
“Oh, Twig, everyone in the village relies on the Spirit dreamer to see the future, and when she’s tired, or sick, or just disheartened, and she can’t dream, they all blame her for the bad things that happen. It’s not an easy life … and I hoped yours would be.”
“Was it hard when you were growing up?”
“Yes, I just wanted to be a normal little girl. But my grandfather made me study with Screech Owl.”
Twig swallowed hard. “Is that why you don’t like Screech Owl?”
Mother nodded. “His lessons are very difficult. Sometimes, they hurt, as you are about to find out.”
They stared at each other for a long time before Mother said, “Tomorrow we’ll pack your things, and I’ll take you to Screech Owl. I don’t know how long you’ll be able to stay. We may be moving soon. But I’ll give you as much time with him as I can.”
Twig hugged her hard. “I’m afraid, Mother, but I will try to learn to dream better.”
“Good. Terrible things are happening. If you learn enough, and try hard enough, maybe you will dream a way for us to escape.”
Since I can’t, someone has to.
Across the lodge, from the Wolf Bundle, Riddle thought she heard the Stone Wolf call out to her … as if in approval.
CHAPTER 16
“ O H, GREAT MAMMOTH, there he is,” Mother said in an unhappy voice. “Do you see him?”
Twig shielded her eyes from the bright morning sunlight. They had been walking since long before dawn to get to Screech Owl’s cave. Twig looked at the huge oaks out front, then searched the black boulders … and finally saw him.
Screech Owl was balancing on his belly on a pointed rock that stuck out high above his cave. He had his arms and legs thrust out into thin air, as though he was imitating the ravens
And a boy’s voice calls my name … .
CHAPTER 15
S TARLIGHT GLISTENED ON the roof poles over Riddle’s head. She lay warm in her hides, listening to Twig, who was dreaming.
“No,” Twig said softly, and Riddle could tell she was crying. “Help me. Please, help me.”
Riddle rolled to her side to study her daughter. Only the top of Twig’s head showed over the edge of the buffalo hide. Her long black hair snaked across the sleeping mat. Twig whimpered and turned over onto her stomach. Her hands clenched and opened, as if she were trying to reach for someone.
Riddle threw off her hides and went to kneel by Twig.
“Twig?” she called softly. “Twig, wake up. It’s all right. Twig?”
“Mother?” Twig whispered, her voice sleepy.
“Yes, I’m right here. You’re safe.”
“Oh, Mother, I had the dream again! This time I saw a village on fire. And the Ice Giants turned black!” Tears ran down her cheeks.
Riddle stroked Twig’s hair gently. “What else did you see?”
Twig took a breath as if to speak, then shook her head. “There was a—a boy’s voice … and a blue spiderweb. I—it … never mind. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Riddle’s heart sank. Twig didn’t want to tell her, and she knew why. Riddle feared powerful Spirit dreams. She often shouted at Twig when she claimed to have had one. Mostly because Riddle had never learned how to control them, so on the few occasions when they came to her, they controlled her with such terrifying power that she thought she was dying.
Twig squeezed her eyes closed, a clear signal that she didn’t want to talk anymore. “Thank you, Mother, but you can go back to sleep now. I’m all right, really.”
Riddle let out a tense sigh. “Twig? Do you want to go live with Screech Owl?”
Twig opened her eyes. For several heartbeats she didn’t answer. Finally, she whispered, “Do you want me to?”
“No, not really, but he could teach you a great deal, and maybe … well, I’ve tried hard to kill the power that lives inside you, Twig. But if you really are destined to be
a great dreamer, you could save our people. I just, well, I pray the dreaming is not as hard on you as it is on me.”
“Why is it so hard?”
“Oh, Twig, everyone in the village relies on the Spirit dreamer to see the future, and when she’s tired, or sick, or just disheartened, and she can’t dream, they all blame her for the bad things that happen. It’s not an easy life … and I hoped yours would be.”
“Was it hard when you were growing up?”
“Yes, I just wanted to be a normal little girl. But my grandfather made me study with Screech Owl.”
Twig swallowed hard. “Is that why you don’t like Screech Owl?”
Mother nodded. “His lessons are very difficult. Sometimes, they hurt, as you are about to find out.”
They stared at each other for a long time before Mother said, “Tomorrow we’ll pack your things, and I’ll take you to Screech Owl. I don’t know how long you’ll be able to stay. We may be moving soon. But I’ll give you as much time with him as I can.”
Twig hugged her hard. “I’m afraid, Mother, but I will try to learn to dream better.”
“Good. Terrible things are happening. If you learn enough, and try hard enough, maybe you will dream a way for us to escape.”
Since I can’t, someone has to.
Across the lodge, from the Wolf Bundle, Riddle thought she heard the Stone Wolf call out to her … as if in approval.
CHAPTER 16
“ O H, GREAT MAMMOTH, there he is,” Mother said in an unhappy voice. “Do you see him?”
Twig shielded her eyes from the bright morning sunlight. They had been walking since long before dawn to get to Screech Owl’s cave. Twig looked at the huge oaks out front, then searched the black boulders … and finally saw him.
Screech Owl was balancing on his belly on a pointed rock that stuck out high above his cave. He had his arms and legs thrust out into thin air, as though he was imitating the ravens
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