People of the Mist by W. Michael Gear Read Free Book Online Page B

           As
Flat Willow released his deadly shaft, the deer snorted and leapt away. The
arrow arced through empty space and disappeared into the leaf mat beyond.
                 Flat Willow exhaled explosively. The deer raced away,
white tails flagging.
                 In
their wake he heard the thumping of moccasins, the whipping of branches, and
the puffing of breath.
                 Flat Willow made a face and straightened. What silly
fool would be running through the forest on a morning like this? From habit, he
plucked another arrow from the bark quiver hung over his shoulder. Through the
trees he glimpsed someone charging down the trail. The man leapt, slipped, and
jumped in his headlong rush.
                 For
an instant, Flat Willow considered hiding, then got a good look at the young
man: High Fox, from Three Myrtle Village . Flat Willow rolled his eyes in disgust. Of all the
people to meet today, none could have been as bad as High Fox. Red Knot’s eyes
had always been for him, a mere stripling; and in contrast to a fine hunter
like Flat Willow, why, there was just no comparison.
                 Flat Willow cocked his head, surprised when High Fox
saw him and tried to stop short. He had a panicked look on his face, eyes wide.
The youth’s right foot slipped out from under him, and he landed flat on his
bottom, skidding in the leaves.
                 “High
Fox! It’s just me. Flat Willow .”
                 High
Fox gaped as he slid to a stop, glanced around as if for an escape route, and
rose on trembling legs. He wiped his hands on the flap of his breech clout
                 “What’s
the matter?” Flat Willow demanded. “Is it trouble?” He took a step up, and stopped when the
ashen High Fox shook his head.
                 “No.
N-No trouble.”
                 “But
you were running like a madman,” Flat Willow declared suspiciously. “You ruined
my hunt! Scared the deer.”
                 High
Fox gave him a weak smile. “Sorry. I… I was just in a hurry, that’s all. Late.
I’m late.”
                 “Late
for what? It’s barely morning.”
                 “I
know. I-I stayed too late at the dance last night. That’s all. I have to get back.
Home, you see. I had… well, chores. Something for my father.”
                 Flat Willow frowned, reading the terror in High Fox’s
face. “Go, then.”
                 High
Fox tensed, his muscles knotted. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to regain some
of his control. The smile still looked forced. “Sorry. I guess I must have
looked pretty silly.”
                 “I’ve
seen rabbits run faster, but not many.”
                 High
Fox’s lips quivered as he descended the steep trail toward Flat Willow. “Deer,
huh?”
                 “Some
does, a fawn, and one nice little buck that was half a heartbeat from dead when
you came crashing down the trail.”
                 “I’m
sorry. Really, I am. I know how rare they are around the village.” The fragile
smile died and High Fox’s eyes widened. What caused that glazed look, as if
something had scared him half out of his skin? Had Copper Thunder figured out
that the boy had been nosing around Red Knot? Or was he still upset about what
had happened at Three Myrtle Village yesterday morning? Flat Willow had heard bits of the story bantered about
before the dance last night. Apparently, a young girl named Sun Conch had
begged him to marry her, and been rebuffed, harshly, by Black Spike.
                 “Are
you all right?”
                 High
Fox was no more than a step away. Every muscle trembled, and his breathing was
labored. “I apologize for scaring the deer. Maybe, if you scout around, you can
pick them up again. I’d try that way.” He pointed back the way Flat