must go and fetch her.
The young boy jumped to his feet. He would fetch Hama? Jeek couldn’t keep a tiny grin from his lips. He strutted with exaggerated importance past Kung and his gang on his way to her wipiti. He, Jeek, had been chosen to fetch Hama. Not Kung, but Jeek.
* * *
Enga Dancing Flower, fighting her tiredness, watched Jeek leave the circle and head toward the large, set-apart wipiti. But something was not right. A chill swirled through her mind. Wide awake now, Enga sat up straight. Hama would not have missed the intense disturbance caused by the wounds of Ung Strong Arm, or the deep sorrow over the death of Kokat No Ear. No matter how involved Hama became in her narrow, private thoughts, she could not have ignored the profound, widespread emotion of the tribe that night. Especially that of her own birth sister, Nanno Green Eyes, on the death of her mate.
Enga contemplated those around her and tried to read their minds. But whenever she was weary she had trouble receiving the feelings of the Hamapa. Thought waves came faintly to her. As near as she could tell, most were uneasy, like her, without understanding why. If Ung were here she would take action, for she always knew what to do. No one moved. Except Jeek. He drew nearer the wipiti of Hama.
Enga made a decision. She jumped up and hurried across the Paved Place after Jeek, sending him a message to halt. He hesitated. When he turned toward her she transmitted her fear with a subtle, narrowed thought. She felt him understand her concern immediately. A quick thinker, she thought. He must have perceived the unease of the tribe, too. He chewed on a hank of his hair and gave Enga a worried look.
Hama is old, twice twenty. We all know she will die someday , he thought-spoke.
But, Enga somehow knew, the situation was worse than what Jeek feared.
Chapter 5
A rush of intuition, of dread, and of bravery overcame Enga Dancing Flower.
Hang back. I will look in on Hama myself. You stay where you are.
Well before she reached the entrance to Hama’s wipiti, a familiar odor drifted out to Enga. The odor of death.
She snatched the tent flap and threw it to the side. A soft sound escaped from Enga and her knees weakened, but held her up.
It was cold. The interior fire had gone out but light from the central fire at the gathering leaked into the dwelling through the open doorway.
She took a step inside. Brother Earth seemed to tilt beneath her feet. The edges of her vision turned gray and she swayed. Then she caught herself on the mammoth rib that supported the wall and sucked her feelings inside.
Something terrible had happened here. Something that went contrary to the order of things. Something that threatened to overwhelm Enga. She must keep herself in control. She must act as Ung Strong Arm would act. Calm, calm.
She shut down her outgoing thoughts, summoned up the very darkest colors she could, moonless night colors, keeping her horror from radiating to the group outside until she could get her ideas in order.
Red spilled from Hama’s body. It glistened bright and shiny next to Hama, but had dried to brown, the color of old leaves, at the edge of a large puddle. Enga stepped around the blood, hoping against her fears that Hama was alive. The little red hairs on her arms lifted and her scalp prickled with fear.
Must not touch the sacred Red of Most High Hama. Only Zhoo of Still Waters, the Healer, can touch this Red. Must see why the Red pours. Must see if there is any life left in her.
Enga knelt beside the bearskin. Hama lay on her side with her face away. Enga gripped the grizzled head and turned it a little. The eyes were closed. It looked as if Hama were asleep.
Her thoughts are usually kept private, unless she is announcing something to the tribe. She had the ability to cloak her contemplations in darkest midnight black. Blacker than Enga would ever be able to. But she was attacked—someone should have noticed that. Could even Hama keep such
The young boy jumped to his feet. He would fetch Hama? Jeek couldn’t keep a tiny grin from his lips. He strutted with exaggerated importance past Kung and his gang on his way to her wipiti. He, Jeek, had been chosen to fetch Hama. Not Kung, but Jeek.
* * *
Enga Dancing Flower, fighting her tiredness, watched Jeek leave the circle and head toward the large, set-apart wipiti. But something was not right. A chill swirled through her mind. Wide awake now, Enga sat up straight. Hama would not have missed the intense disturbance caused by the wounds of Ung Strong Arm, or the deep sorrow over the death of Kokat No Ear. No matter how involved Hama became in her narrow, private thoughts, she could not have ignored the profound, widespread emotion of the tribe that night. Especially that of her own birth sister, Nanno Green Eyes, on the death of her mate.
Enga contemplated those around her and tried to read their minds. But whenever she was weary she had trouble receiving the feelings of the Hamapa. Thought waves came faintly to her. As near as she could tell, most were uneasy, like her, without understanding why. If Ung were here she would take action, for she always knew what to do. No one moved. Except Jeek. He drew nearer the wipiti of Hama.
Enga made a decision. She jumped up and hurried across the Paved Place after Jeek, sending him a message to halt. He hesitated. When he turned toward her she transmitted her fear with a subtle, narrowed thought. She felt him understand her concern immediately. A quick thinker, she thought. He must have perceived the unease of the tribe, too. He chewed on a hank of his hair and gave Enga a worried look.
Hama is old, twice twenty. We all know she will die someday , he thought-spoke.
But, Enga somehow knew, the situation was worse than what Jeek feared.
Chapter 5
A rush of intuition, of dread, and of bravery overcame Enga Dancing Flower.
Hang back. I will look in on Hama myself. You stay where you are.
Well before she reached the entrance to Hama’s wipiti, a familiar odor drifted out to Enga. The odor of death.
She snatched the tent flap and threw it to the side. A soft sound escaped from Enga and her knees weakened, but held her up.
It was cold. The interior fire had gone out but light from the central fire at the gathering leaked into the dwelling through the open doorway.
She took a step inside. Brother Earth seemed to tilt beneath her feet. The edges of her vision turned gray and she swayed. Then she caught herself on the mammoth rib that supported the wall and sucked her feelings inside.
Something terrible had happened here. Something that went contrary to the order of things. Something that threatened to overwhelm Enga. She must keep herself in control. She must act as Ung Strong Arm would act. Calm, calm.
She shut down her outgoing thoughts, summoned up the very darkest colors she could, moonless night colors, keeping her horror from radiating to the group outside until she could get her ideas in order.
Red spilled from Hama’s body. It glistened bright and shiny next to Hama, but had dried to brown, the color of old leaves, at the edge of a large puddle. Enga stepped around the blood, hoping against her fears that Hama was alive. The little red hairs on her arms lifted and her scalp prickled with fear.
Must not touch the sacred Red of Most High Hama. Only Zhoo of Still Waters, the Healer, can touch this Red. Must see why the Red pours. Must see if there is any life left in her.
Enga knelt beside the bearskin. Hama lay on her side with her face away. Enga gripped the grizzled head and turned it a little. The eyes were closed. It looked as if Hama were asleep.
Her thoughts are usually kept private, unless she is announcing something to the tribe. She had the ability to cloak her contemplations in darkest midnight black. Blacker than Enga would ever be able to. But she was attacked—someone should have noticed that. Could even Hama keep such
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