“Free as the wind,” said Angelia.
Jumping up, Julian gave a hoot and a howl, and taking two giant steps toward Angelia, he pulled her up, one handed, into an enormous bear hug.
Angelia laughed.
Swift Hawk smiled. However, glancing at White Claw, it was easy to see that his elder was shocked over such behavior between a brother and a sister. And so Swift Hawk explained, “Grandfather, the white people have many unusual customs. And though we might little understand it, a brother and sister are allowed to speak to one another—even to hug—in front of all eyes.”
“Soka-pii.” White Claw nodded, and using the hand language, he made the gesture forgood.
Julian let her go, only to grin inanely. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to go celebrate. Where is this dance?” With a merry laugh, he turned and walked away, toward the general direction where Red Fox had disappeared. In the distance Swift Hawk could see Julian catch up to where Red Fox was standing, and together the two men sauntered toward the dance.
So it was that only Swift Hawk, Angelia and White Claw remained seated around the evening fire.
As was custom amongst his people, no one spoke for many moments. Because White Claw was the elder, Swift Hawk waited for him to begin the conversation.
At last White Claw seemed inclined to talk. “Let us smoke.”
“Yes,” said Swift Hawk.
Lighting the pipe, White Claw first offered the smoke to the Sun and to the Moon, then to the four directions. Taking up a bit of tobacco, he scattered it to the winds. This done, only then did he take a puff on the sacred pipe.
White Claw passed the pipe to Swift Hawk, who smoked in turn. Swift Hawk then passed the pipe to Angelia.
Me?Angelia silently mouthed the word toward Swift Hawk. He nodded.
She took a puff, and though she might have turned a little greenish in color, she stoically kept the reaction to herself. Soon she passed the pipe back to Swift Hawk, and he, in turn, gave it back to the medicine man.
Another long silence ensued, and then, “Let us speak with an open heart,” said White Claw, “for I know you both have many questions. I will answer them as best I can.” He added, perhaps for Angelia’s benefit, “The pipe ensures that we all speak with a true tongue. No lies may be said once one has smoked the sacred pipe. But come, you have questions. Ask them of me now.”
Swift Hawk was the first one to speak. “Grandfather, I do not understand how I broke the curse. I saw Black Hat in a vision, and I knew then that he was the enemy I needed to aid. To him I was required to show kindness, mercy. Yet in my heart, I sought to kill him, for he was mistreating my wife. I caused my clan much danger, for I risked everything—all my life’s work.”
Serenely, White Claw nodded. “Why did you do this?”
“Because saving my friend and my wife was more important to me than myself or my shame. It was more vital to aid them than it was to think of my family and clan. I had not a moment in which to think, and in my heart, this was the right thing to do.”
When White Claw glanced toward him, his gaze was wise, yet unassuming. “Was that the only reason?”
“No, I did it because I love her more than I love my own honor.”
White Claw nodded. “Perhaps that is the secret, my son: to love so much that all else fades before that love. Remember that long ago there was no love in us. Had there been love for allliving things, our people would not be enslaved.”
Swift Hawk inclined his head silently. White Claw’s words brought on another question. “You say this as though there are still others enslaved in the mist.”
White Claw sat up straighter before he spoke. “You broke the spell for your clan, the Burnt Chest Band of our tribe. There are still three others. But come, do not be sad. The year has not yet passed. Perhaps your brothers in arms will yet succeed as you did today.”
White Claw became silent. Swift Hawk knew he awaited a question from Angelia.
Leaning toward her, Swift Hawk urged her to speak. “If you would like to ask anything, now is the time to question our wise man. For soon, White Claw will return to the other clans who are not yet freed.”
“He will? Then White Claw can move freely in and out of both worlds?”
“Haa’he,” confirmed Swift Hawk. “It is so.”
Swift Hawk watched her from the corner of his eye, watched her swallow hard, watched her as she formed a question. “Mr. Claw, sir, does that mean you will return to the mist?”
“Aaaa, yes. I must.”
“I see,” she said. “Tell me, will these people I have met here today live normal lives now?”
