Read Online People of the Nightland (North America's Forgotten Past) by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O'Neal Gear - Free Book Online Page A

they prepared to meet the equinox moon.
    Lookingbill smiled. He wished he could be as filled with Power as his grandson. While he believed in the will of Wolf Dreamer, he had always been plagued by the practicality of leadership. “Come. Let us go and see the procession.”
    They rounded a bend and looked up at the huge cavern formed by tens of toppled boulders. Soft golden light streamed from the entrance, dappling the rocks and throwing patchwork shadows across the landscape.
    “Grandfather?”
    “What is it, Silvertip?”
    “Can I touch the Wolf Bundle?”
    Lookingbill was aware of the amused people within earshot. “Someday, when you are a man and it becomes yours, you can touch it. Not yet.”
    “But I’m almost a man now. Why can’t I just—”
    “It was the gift of Wolf Dreamer himself to our people. It’s too Powerful for a boy to hold. It might kill you.”
    Silvertip lowered his gaze to stare at the trail passing beneath his feet. “I remember, but—”
    “I thought you did.”
    “The Wolf Bundle is like the trail that leads to the skyworlds, isn’t it, Grandfather?”
    “It’s more like tens of trails,” Lookingbill answered. “There are many paths to the One. The Wolf Bundle opens a different one to each person. Some lead to the future, others to the past.” He put a hand to his belt, where the bundle rested, warm and comforting in its protective pouch.
    As they walked, Sister Moon rose over the ceremonial cave. Her light tarnished the drooping spruce branches and shadowed the trails. On this night, her light would gleam through an opening in the eastern side of their stone fortress and cast a thin white lance across the Council cavern.
    So, too, did Father Sun as he pursued his path through the cycle of seasons, traveling north and then south, illuminating different parts of the rock warren.
    Silvertip moved closer to Lookingbill, and fingered the worn leather of his sleeve. “Grandfather?”
    Silvertip was persistent. Once he asked something, he never let it go.
    “I’m listening.”
    “Maybe you could just let me look at it?”
    Every face in the crowd was fixed on the rising moon, but Silvertip only had eyes for the Wolf Bundle. “Later, during the Renewal ritual, all right?”
    “Maybe now … and then I wouldn’t have to remember to ask later.”
    “You think you might forget?”
    Silvertip stared up at him, his eyes tight with longing. “Please, Grandfather?”
    What is it about him and the Wolf Bundle? The boy is obsessed.
    Lookingbill sighed, knelt in the ice-sheathed grass, and untied his belt pouch. As he pulled back the leather to reveal the sacred bundle, Silvertip came forward. The people who’d been walking behind them veered around, smiling. Children pointed and peeked at the bundle for as long as their parents would allow before moving on up the trail.
    “Wolf Dreamer made it himself, didn’t he?” Silvertip asked.
    “Yes, he did, after a fight with Grandfather White Bear.”
    The bundle had originally been made of Grandfather White Bear’s hide and had held his claws. Lookingbill had never dared to open it; he had no idea what the bundle contained—though he frequently heard voices, soft and pleading, coming from within.
    He said reverently, “Legends tell us that after Wolf Dreamer led the people up through the dark hole in the ice to this world of light, he placed other things in the bundle: a wolf’s tail and teeth, given to him by his Spirit Helper; a lock of hair from a woman he had loved with all his heart; and a stone point crafted by one of his friends. One story even says the bundle contains a fragment of a white mammoth hide—a very rare and precious thing.”
    Mesmerized, Silvertip unconsciously reached out. Lookingbill grabbed his hand to keep it away. “Careful. You don’t want Wolf Dreamer to find you so soon.”
    “He already knows where I am, Grandfather. You’ve told me so many times.”
    “Yes, but he’d want to talk to you if you