Read Online People of the Earth by W. Michael Gear - Free Book Online Page A

to warm his hands. He puffed a foggy breath, standing quietly
for a moment, listening to the sharp silence of the morning.
                   "You all right?"
                   The boy shot him a quick glance, reserve in
his sensitive brown eyes. "I don't know. I guess."
                   "Let's walk. It's warmer that way. If
you'll twist sagebrush out, I'll carry it."
                   Tshrugged , turning
to walk beside Bad Belly.
                   Bad Belly searched the sky, reading the signs
for the day's weather: windy and chilly. Softly, he asked, "You checked on
your father this morning?"
                   "He's the same. Maybe a little
worse."
                   An odd tone shaded the boy's voice. Bad Belly
glanced sideways at him. "What's wrong?"
                   Tuber kicked resentfully at a jackrabbit hole.
"I'm worried about Black Hand. I don't know . . . just a feeling."
                   "What kind of feeling?"
                   "I think we ought to send him away."
                   Bad Belly pointed to a sagebrush and studied
Tuber warily. "You pull up that bush. I'll carry it. You have a reason for
sending Black Hand away?"
                   The boy jerked halfheartedly at the sage.
"Black Hand was talking to Larkspur last night after everyone went to
sleep. He said my father would die today."
                   Bad Belly winced. Of course Black Hand would
know that sort of thing. It came with the ability to use Power, to see the way
of the soul and how it clung to the body. "He's a Healer."
                   The boy's back bent as he threw his weight
against the stubborn plant and twisted it around and around. The root popped
loudly as it separated. "Then he ought to Heal!"
                   "Sometimes even the best Healer
can't."
                   "Maybe," came Tuber's surly reply.
"But did you know that Green Fire, over at Three Forks, has accused Black
Hand of witching people?"
                   "Black Hand said this?"
                   "Yes, and a lot of other things, too.
They thought I was asleep. You know how people talk when they think a child is
asleep. But, Bad Belly, if he's witching people, what keeps him from making
sure that my father dies today ... like a proof of his Power?"
                   Bad Belly clamped the bristly sagebrush under
his good arm. "It's talk, T, that's all."
                   "Black Hand's worried that someone might
dart him in the night."
                   "Did he say why people thought he was
witching?"
                   "Too many people he treated have died.
One was Green Fire's husband. I guess he had a broken finger or some such thing
and Black Hand set it. Four days later he died. Just fell over dead. Then there
was that girl who disappeared, White Ash they called her. Green Fire thinks it
was witching."
                   "Green Fire has always worried too much
about witching. Every time a rabbit jumps the wrong way, she thinks a witch is
responsible."
                   Tuber squinted. "Her husband's still
dead."
                   "And what did Black Hand say?"
                   "That things like that happen sometimes,
that people just die. And Larkspur nodded and reminded him of the time he'd
done a Healing for some warrior. They did a sweat in the middle of the winter,
and the warrior felt better and got up and ran out in the snow and rolled
around—and died."
                   "Everyone dies some time."
                   "I don't like people saying my father is
going to die today. I don't like people saying Black Hand is witching
people."
                   Tuber's mouth quivered, and Bad Belly let out
a shallow breath and squinted up at the sun, now a big yellow disk over