It is a hot, sunny day and a feeling of celebration permeates the air as last-minute chores are finished up around the campgrounds, one on each side of the unified rivers. Star Hawk is pleased with the sights and smells meeting his senses, though the festivities are not for him this time. The young man has just earned his third and shamanic name, Burning, for his fiery passion which he controls with the focus and finesse of a single flame.

He is the best hunter and the presumptive next leader of his tribe, Sun Horse Clan. Not that his prowess at bringing in game, alone, has granted Star Hawk Burning this position; it is more because, when he turns the intensity for which he is known towards a problem, obstacles tend to melt away like morning mist over the water.

His people live in the central, grassy steppes of Visharvé, the All Land, in a parallel universe where a magical version of Pangaea has persisted and flourished. The migratory culture of the Tishatayo clans who inhabit the region revolves around their great horse herds and the undomesticated cattle that they hunt. Traditionally, they tend to be proud and fiercely independent, and competition or even warfare between opposing clans is not uncommon. However, honesty is highly prized, almost to a fault, and today’s events bear witness to that forthrightness.

As the paradoxical nature of his name would suggest, Star Hawk is a complex man. Since there is a wedding in the offing, he’s preoccupied with thoughts of love. Yet currently he is refusing to acknowledge the advances of the girl whom he secretly desires, because he considers her to be too young and something of a spoiled brat. It is a good thing that he learned to stop nibbling at the ends of his braids in frustration when he was a boy, because the woman is a trial to his patience.

Wolf Calling has also recently been awarded her third name. In her heart's wild Song lives the power to allure, to persuade, and with repetition or emphasis, to compel. She has been warned by Sun Horse Clan's shaman to be extremely careful of her gift’s use. But the 18-year-old maiden is, if not outright rebellious then certainly impetuous, and she cannot resist teasing and tormenting Star Hawk with it just a little for seeming so oblivious to her.

Positioned as the Tishatayo clans’ territories are, their members have some access to the luxuries of Silken Way trade goods. Today, Song the Wolf Calling is dressed in the fine cloth for which the route is named and bedecked with pink flowers for her older sister's wedding. Springing Doe will marry Grey Owl from the neighboring Rolling Thunder Clan at the meeting of the two mighty rivers. Their romance is a product of this summer’s peace talks between their respective clans and will further cement that alliance. Wolf Calling does not expect to ever marry, as she has sworn to wed no man who cannot beat her in a fair fight.

Song's combat style is unique, combining the women's dances of her people with the martial arts that she has picked up from Silken Way travelers. So far, she has never met a man who could adapt a defense against her quickly enough to avoid defeat. And if she wishes Star Hawk Burning would challenge her, instead of standing aloof, that doesn't prove that she even has an infatuation for him. He merely... intrigues her, that's all. As a chieftain's daughter, she wants to know what kind of man he is, what sort of leader he will become.

Likewise garbed in a blend of soft, silk skirts and her ceremonial shamanic finery, Smoke Cat Watching is dancing in augury for her friend and foster-sister Springing Doe's wedding. Her magic is strong, and as she loses herself in the sacred movement, glimpses of the future open before her mind’s eye. The portents are good, all is going well until the appearance of her spirit animal brings a dire warning. Someone is ill-wishing the marriage, someone who does not want peace between the clans.

Smoke Cat Watching is a powerful young shaman, but she lacks experience with curses of such a high level of force; this malice smacks of demon mischief, of one who has traded bits of humanity for influence over others. She is not sure whom to trust, even within Sun Horse Clan; yet, Rolling Thunder is at risk, also. Specifically, Grey Owl is in danger, for it is a death spell cast over the betrothed pair.

"What shall I do?" she asks the clouded, charcoal-hued smoke cat, which, as usual, speaks her own wisdom back to her.

"Watch! And watch closely!" is her answer. Although it would be helpful to have a clue as to what she should watch for, the shaman knows better than to pester a panther-sized feline for hints it is unwilling to provide.

All throughout the wedding rituals, Smoke Cat Watching is alert for the smallest sign of wrongness. However, everything proceeds as it should until later in the evening. It is a subtle thing, of course, and had she not been straining every sense to the limit it would probably have escaped her notice just as it was intended to do. During the banquet feast, after the marriage ceremony itself but before the night's entertainment begins, Star Hawk Burning... hesitates uneasily while cutting his meat; his fingers quiver, and he nearly slices his hand open.

‘That is not his knife,’ thinks Smoke Cat. ‘He’s held it every day for over 20 years; his knife is like a part of him by now. An aura of confusion surrounds this one, for the moment, to make people believe that it truly belongs to Star Hawk.’ Frantically, the young shaman considers exactly what steps need to be taken promptly.

"Do whatever you must but keep Star Hawk within sight of as many people as you can; don't let him leave the ring of firelight!" It is a strange order, but Song the Wolf Calling does not question that it is indeed vital. It comes from her friend and shaman, and she is told furthermore that doing this will at least delay her sister's murder.

But how is she to achieve that goal? She must stall until Smoke Cat Watching can find the true killer, the person who has taken Star Hawk Burning's knife in order to implicate him. But Wolf Calling has never cared much for the social graces; that was always more the realm of her sister, Springing Doe, and she dares not use her Song in the midst of so many pre-existing spells, lest something go awry. At first her task is easy, for Star Hawk does not want to leave the party too early, but as the company thins, why linger?

Before more than the very young and the sober and sedate among the elders have gone to bed, therefore, Wolf Calling issues a challenge. Star Hawk Burning has been flirting with a pretty girl from Rolling Thunder who has, in turn, responded with boundless enthusiasm. This scenario provides Song with the excuse she needs to shame and provoke him into fighting her, a situation that he has so far been deft at avoiding.

"You'd better slip away with her now, Hawk," says Wolf Calling, "before you lose track of her. Or have you already misplaced your... er... edge?"

Star Hawk's cheeks burn red as he instinctively reaches for his knife and fumbles the one he finds in its place. Slowly, despite the enchanted confusion, he begins to suspect that someone is playing a nasty joke on him, at the least.

Song the Wolf Calling is jeering at him, "Now which is it? Can you not keep hold of your own blade, or are you just naturally clumsy?”

"Do not push me too far, little girl," he snaps at her, convinced that she knows more about this incident than she is telling.

"Or what?" she retorts. "Will you lose your honor, as well, over this? Or will you kick off your boots and fight? I, Song the Wolf Calling, challenge you, Star Hawk Burning!"

Now, Star Hawk smiles, thinking he sees a way out of this mess. The pretty girl is gone, but he doesn't notice. "I wouldn't want you to get your beautiful outfit all dirty and torn. We'll fight some other time."

Eerily calmly, Song says, "You're right. These clothes are too nice to ruin. I'll just have to take them off, then. But we fight now."

To everyone's great astonishment, Wolf Calling pulls off her silken dress and stands boldly, bronze skin barely covered in a short loincloth and a few strips of gauze, quickly twisted into a halter. Star Hawk Burning's throat feels thick, but he sounds perfectly normal when he manages to speak. "No weapons."

"Of course not, Hawk," she answers. "You seem to be lacking in keen edges, anyway." Taking her own knife, Song begins to carve a large half circle in the beaten turf; it is for Star Hawk to complete the circle, and then both will ground their blades by burying them to the hilt in the earth. By tradition, the first to leave the circle or to be unable to continue, loses. Wolf Calling has succeeded in gaining the attention of a wide group of spectators. But she does not know how long she can maintain it.

The minute the foreign knife is grounded, a ripple of doubt seems to pass up and over Star Hawk. He blinks as he steps into the circle, as if wondering how he got into this ridiculous situation but knowing that it is too late to back down now. The only thing to do at this point is to save face by finishing this silly match as soon as possible. And really, Wolf Calling has more than earned a little sting to her ego. He tosses his own vest and shirt to a friend and prepares to enjoy this.

Wolf Calling must make this last as long as possible. She has no desire to hurt Star Hawk, well… not seriously, but she is prepared to do so if it is the only way to save both him and her sister. As she dances lightly into the ring, she knows her strategy: feint, retreat, draw him out, and engage in contact only rarely. He is not being cooperative, standing like a tree at his end of the circle, waiting for her to get close enough to simply grab and heave out of the enclosed space.

It's an emotionally frustrating tactic, but it strikes Song that, logically, this is exactly what she wants. The female fighter stops swaying and twirling, and sits down exactly where she is, seemingly having nothing better to do than plait little braids into her glossy, midnight black hair.

Star Hawk laughs. "What, not so eager now to fight, young one?”

"No, of course not," she replies, "I've already won in that you're doing what you didn't want to, while I'm perfectly at ease. But we can continue any time you feel you're rested and ready, Star Hawk."

"A challenge is too serious a thing to play games with, Wolfling. Nor am I a toy for your amusement." Star Hawk Burning becomes stern and walks slowly towards her, ready for her to spring up and flee. Instead, she continues to sit mutely, and her apparent unconcern annoys him. He slows, frowning down at her as he approaches Song; quick as a snake she lashes one foot behind his ankle and rising, punches him hard in the ribs. As he regains his balance, she does run away, smiling.

Smoke Cat Watching knows that now is the time to act. While Wolf Calling is monopolizing Star Hawk’s attention, the newlyweds should be relatively safe. Deciding that she has nothing to lose by trusting her counterpart, she confides in Rolling Thunder Clan's Shaman, Blue Turtle Dreaming, sharing her foretelling with him. Although he presents a laidback image, bordering on laziness, not much gets past Blue Turtle’s sleepy, brown eyes. He, too, has felt something disturbing.

Together they will take turns guarding the tent of Grey Owl and Springing Doe from witchcraft or evil manifestations, while the other seeks for clues to the identity of the ill-wisher. It is likely that there is only one malefactor with any supernatural power, but he or she might have accomplices willingly or unwillingly carrying out part of the dastardly plan. Finding Star Hawk's stolen knife would be ideal, but there are other leads to follow. For instance, the girl who was so friendly. Who was she and was that typical of her?

Blue Turtle Dreaming is well over 30, despite looking younger, and remains unmarried but states that he is destined to wed late in life. He is very wise, and as his appellation suggests, a slow and methodical individual rather than being mercurial in temperament. It distresses him deeply that demon mischief might have arisen within his clan and passed unnoticed by him, just as Smoke Cat feels the same; both hope against hope that the primary threat is from some outsider.

Named not only for her doe-like grace and beauty, but also her intuitive wit that always seems to leap to the truth, White Bear's older daughter is making a somewhat controversial marriage. Before Springing Doe fell in love with Grey Owl, there was talk of her becoming the eventual leader of Sun Horse Clan, rather than some male hunter, although Star Hawk was always a strong contender, as well.

Spring is virtually universally popular within her clan for her ability to instinctively know the right thing to say in any situation. Now, though, her interpersonal skills and flair for politics have helped seal Grey Owl's place as the next candidate for chieftain of Rolling Thunder. Her calm extroversion balances her groom's more introspective but passionate and sensitive character.

A few malcontents have whispered that a child of theirs could potentially unite the rival clans, which are, as yet, only tentatively at peace. Such a thing has not even been proposed as a possible political reality in the future, but rumors spread, and other clans in the area have been made uncomfortable by them. For a thoroughly lovable girl, Springing Doe has a remarkable number of enemies that she's never met, but to actually kill her… It seems like an excessive and incredible reaction.

Blue Turtle Dreaming and Smoke Cat Watching have made progress in piecing together the puzzle. The two shamans have tracked down the ‘pretty girl’ who was earlier so friendly to Star Hawk but later seemed to disappear. This was doubly difficult because, upon reflection, all anyone is able to remember about her is that she’s "a pretty girl".

Still, under the whiff of demon power, her aura is familiar to Blue Turtle, and retracing her steps eventually leads him to the girl herself. She is indeed a young woman from Rolling Thunder Clan who had been given a thin "don't remember me" spell as a disguise. The maiden had hoped to win Grey Owl for her own and hence was infuriated by Springing Doe's arrival on the scene. From jealousy and resentment, a thorn festered in her heart that the assassin was able to turn to his own account, using her as a pawn.

Smoke Cat's subtle magic entices the flirtatious girl to reveal further details. Her mission was not merely to entice Star Hawk Burning into the shadows as quickly as possible, but to get close enough to him to steal his knife. This she hid in a prearranged spot near the riverbank. But, of course, the knife is no longer there. Someone else has it now, and means to use it, undoubtedly soon. Neither shaman can wring more information from the young woman; she does not know the killer's true identity.

Song the Wolf Calling is experiencing something new; she is losing. Historically, her matches have been quick and furious, and surprise has been her greatest asset. Now, though, she must draw out her fight with Star Hawk Burning for as long as she can, and she is beginning to tire faster than he is.

As Wolf Calling's reflexes slow and her endurance ebbs, Smoke Cat and Blue Turtle are conferring about what to do next. They are closer to finding the killer than they were. But eliminating clan members one by one as they are accounted for is tedious and, unfortunately, consumes too much time. Tracing the knife from its hiding place in the hollow by the riverbank has proven fruitless. Smoke Cat Watching begins to toy with an audacious and desperate plan, but much will depend on the endangered couple.

A few feints and retreats later, Song attempts a usually successful spin kick but midjudges her timing, enabling Star Hawk to catch her ankle. His grasp on her is fleeting, yet it throws her out of balance, and she falls. Star Hawk pounces and manages to pin his opponent. "Yield," he demands of her.

"Never," she answers, struggling to squirm loose.

Looking with regret at the scrapes and bruises on her, he makes a generous offer, saying, "Fine, we'll leave the circle together. It will be a tie."

"I can't," Wolf Calling breathes in response, "I can't."

Star Hawk doesn't understand. He is slightly hurt by her rejection of his noble gesture, but more than that, he is curious. "Why not, Wolfling?" Star Hawk Burning asks, easing his hold on her by a tiny fraction.

However, she cannot tell him in front of so many people, in case one of them might be the murderer. If the assassin knows that his attack is anticipated, he might do something rash and unplanned; the risk of that is just too terrible.

Slipping an arm free, Song the Wolf Calling does something she hopes will disconcert Star Hawk even further. In place of an answer, she reaches up, drags his face to hers, and kisses him.

With his heart reeling a little, Star Hawk considers. It is a beautiful kiss: long and soft and deep. But there is something in the shadowy depths of his mind that still disturbs him. Almost, he thinks of it in time. Almost, he pulls back and away quickly enough to dodge her knee, but his breath whooshes out as she scores on his solar plexus instead of the original target, somewhat lower on his body.

Smoke Cat Watching knows that she is seeing the final few moments of the challenge between Wolf Calling and Star Hawk, regardless of the fact that Song has managed to free herself temporarily. There is no more time to distract or investigate. She has only one plan, not even a brilliant plan, but it will have to do.

After notifying Blue Turtle Dreaming of her intentions, Smoke Cat goes to the newlyweds' tent. There is a code of scratching and stomping that all three girls used when they were younger to alert one another to the need to talk away from adult ears, and this she uses now. Within instants, Springing Doe responds and appears at the tent flap. The two young women look much alike as silhouettes in the firelight, bride and shaman, and Smoke Cat is counting on stretching that surface resemblance.

They all need to be very brave, but Springing Doe trusts her foster sister and shaman implicitly. She must, for Smoke Cat is to substitute for her while she takes on the guise of ‘pretty girl’ and returns to the main group. Grey Owl’s part in the scheme is to pretend that no switch has occurred, and act as though he is unaware of any imminent danger. And, when her spell-crafting is finished, Smoke Cat Watching will wait for the assassin to make his move, wait for him to try to kill her. She prepares with utmost care.

Wearing her new disguise as ‘pretty girl’, Springing Doe returns to the main party in time to see her sister Song the Wolf Calling's ultimate defeat at the hands of Star Hawk Burning. He catches her against his chest with her wrists locked behind her, kisses her first this time, then shoves her away and punches her, knocking her out cold. Clearly, Song cannot continue. She loses.

At this point, there is much chattering and fluctuation among the crowd, as wagers are settled, moves analyzed, and repercussions discussed. Suddenly, Springing Doe feels the chill of the flat of a knife being drawn down the back of her neck. She resists the urge to shudder and resolutely keeps smiling in front of her. This is wise.

There comes a raspy, whispered laugh, harsh and unpleasant. "Smart girl not to yelp or turn around," the voice says. "Stupid girl not to make yourself useful isolating Star Hawk NOW!"

As soon as she senses that the menacing presence has gone, Springing Doe rises with a giggle and tosses her hair, slowly sauntering towards Star Hawk and her unconscious sister. It sounds more like a nervous titter to her, but it passes for normal. She runs her fingers over Star Hawk's bare arm, seeming inclined to glue herself there, forestalling his efforts to pick up Song and carry her, presumably, somewhere more secluded for the treatment of her injuries. "Go see to your own hurts," the apparent ‘pretty girl’ says unexpectedly. "I'll care for Wolfling's."

"Wolfling's?" Star Hawk queries. "My Wolfling's? I'm supposed to entrust her to you?”

Springing Doe hopes she doesn't break character by replying, "And do you think she'll be happy to see you hovering over her, after you just beat her? Literally!” She snorts. “Leave her to me. I'll be as gentle as if she were my own sister.” Strangely, he believes her. "Also, she may feel sick after coming to, and I'm sure she'd want privacy for that. Go lose yourself somewhere else along the river and clean those cuts and scrapes."

It doesn’t take long for Song the Wolf Calling to regain awareness, and the two young women move a short distance away from camp. As Springing Doe, still charmed to look like ‘pretty girl’, tends her sister's wounds, she idly taps her fingers on her thigh, or slides her hands together. It is the same rhythm as the stomp and scratch code that Smoke Cat used earlier, and Wolf Calling has no trouble recognizing it as such.

"Spring?" she barely whispers, just in on the off chance that someone is close enough to overhear. Her elder sister only nods. "What are you doing here, and looking like that?”

Springing Doe says, "Taking care of you, obviously, while Smoke Cat insists on caring for me by taking my place."

"That's the entire plan?" Song inquires uneasily.

"It's thick with spells, but essentially, that's it," the bride replies. "My husband is there to help her, and Blue Turtle laid down an extremely difficult enchantment before he left to guard the flirty, female accomplice. We can’t expect any further assistance from him, though, since the magic drained him severely."

"It’s not enough," is Song's taciturn response. "How else can we help?"

"Well, I've been thinking…" Springing Doe begins, but is interrupted by Star Hawk Burning.

"I would hope so!" he says rudely. He has not, perhaps serendipitously, followed his instructions to go and lose himself downstream somewhere, but rather trailed the pair of girls instead. The hunter can be preternaturally silent when he focuses all his will on it. And now, Star Hawk wants explanations, starting with who stole his knife, and why!

Swiftly, the chieftain’s daughters brief Star Hawk Burning on the situation. "In short," Wolf Calling summarizes, "someone wants to use your knife to kill my sister and her new husband."

"Pointing the finger of blame straight at me," concludes Star Hawk. "How do you know all this is true?"

Now, Springing Doe answers. "As Smoke Cat's auguries have foreseen, so it has happened... thus far. We are trying to prevent the more deadly consequences."

Star Hawk Burning looks ready to go and fight again immediately, "Who? Who is so evil?"

"Someone skilled at wearing masks," Song responds.

Spring adds, “Unfortunately, we know no more at this time.”

"You'll have contingencies already in place, " Star Hawk says mainly to himself. "Don't bother with the details. Time is of the essence since we don't know when this assassin may strike. Just tell me what I can do that doesn't interfere with your plans."

The older sister again replies, "we are concerned that if he fails to kill his target, yet succeeds in escaping from the nuptial tent, he might behave erratically and commit some random, horrible crime."

"I see, yes," says Star Hawk thoughtfully. "The horses, then. You'll need someone to watch the horses in both camps. Not merely to prevent the enemy from bolting, but also to keep them from being harmed or spooked and forced to stampede through the celebrating crowd like a weapon."

"Can you do that, watch either side of the river at the same time?" wonders Springing Doe.

"I can from that little knoll up there," he informs them.

"May your arrows fly far and true, and may they not be necessary," Wolf Calling tells him, more or less as a dismissal since she wants to resume speaking alone with her sibling.

After Star Hawk Burning’s departure, Song at once returns to the prior topic. "What were you thinking before? About the danger of the murderer getting away? Maybe about the fact that a tent can have doors anywhere you can make one? And a killer will surely have a sharp knife handy…"

"Yes," approves big sister. "We could each watch a back corner and raise an alarm in that event."

For Grey Owl of Rolling Thunder Clan, today has been a day of amazing experiences. First, he was married to, if not the woman of his dreams, then a girl so close that it makes no difference. But his delirious happiness has been interrupted with the intelligence that someone wants to kill his bride!

Now he is lying in his wedding tent pretending to be asleep, his hand linked sweetly with that of another woman. Smoke Cat Watching, the Sun Horse Clan shaman, is also feigning sleep; her head is turned slightly towards him and away from the tent flap. Her whole posture practically begs to be murdered, from an assassin's point of view, with a slim triangle of moonlight falling across the bodice of her filmy... night dress, Grey Owl supposes it must be termed. He lies farther into shadow.

He wishes he knew what Springing Doe was doing at this moment. The young man also wishes he knew when the killer plans on coming. Grey Owl sternly pushes these desires from his mind and reflects on their own preparations. His presence is crucial. It is his job to actually apprehend the knife wielder. Smoke Cat has been so busy learning magic that she has had little thought regarding physical self-defense. Experimentally, he had her try to throw a punch, and it was feeble. It is best that she remains armed and out of the way.

Smoke has poured much of her power into a single spell, designed to take the knife out of the equation. Rolling Thunder's shaman, Blue Turtle, has already worked a massive enchantment over the interior of the tent making it, for the next few hours, a space which nullifies all magic initiated, once it is in place. Only Smoke Cat's one charm, cast immediately before, retains its effectiveness. Now Blue Turtle Dreaming is exhausted and has withdrawn from the action to guard ‘pretty girl’ for the rest of the night. The waiting is awful.

"Not an outsider," Grey Owl whispers to Smoke Cat Watching. She considers shushing him, but who could tell that this wasn’t merely ordinary pillow talk from more than a few feet away?

"No. Someone would spot him," she confirms. "Invisibility would take too much energy to sustain over the course of a whole night." The shaman omits to mention the possibility of shape-shifting. However, though a shape-shifter might be able to pass unnoticed, she is more inclined to agree with Grey Owl: not an outsider.

Time creeps by, and the party sounds begin to die down as people turn in or get to a less rowdy stage of intoxication. Periodically the two ‘sleepers’ exchange a few words or stretch to keep alert. And finally, when the stars have wheeled long paths overhead, there is the faint noise of footsteps approaching the entrance to the tent. Maybe they belong to a lost, wandering drunk... But no!

The wedge of light widens, spreading across Smoke Cat's hair, and then is blocked by someone slowly sneaking inside. In the blackness, all three take a moment to collect themselves, and then the darker silhouette glides toward the supposedly defenseless girl. It would be smarter to deal with Grey Owl first, but Smoke Cat has made herself an incredibly tempting target. A knife catches the light briefly, before it plunges violently downwards. A single drop of blood wells from the woman's chest.

And then the knife simply stops. The killer's hands tremble on the hilt, but it will go no farther. Frantically, the assassin now tries pulling the knife back, but this fails as well; it is stuck fast! Smoke Cat, the knife still attached to her like a fly in amber, swiftly kindles a lamp while Grey Owl tackles the intruder. Shadows jump crazily over the tent sides as the two men struggle, but it is soon over. Grey Owl, after all, was armed with a stout stick and didn't quail at using it.

Calmly, Smoke Cat Watching removes the knife adhering eerily to her body. "Well, old one, I certainly didn't expect you to visit us tonight," she says.

The man Grey Owl is busily tying up is one of the respected elders of Sun Horse Clan and their official lore-keeper, Talks Over the Left, by name. Known for his jokes and funny stories for the children, and his ever-sober council in governing the clan, he has always given the impression of a well-balanced and fulfilled individual. "If it comes to that, you were not supposed to be here, either," the bound elder retorts tartly. "My magic?"

"Cancelled,” the shaman assures him. “But, of course, you tested that already. Tell me the truth, old one, and I'll see what may be done for you," Smoke Cat Watching promises their prisoner.

"You want to know why, of course," replies Talks Over the Left, wearily.

"Yes, but first, are you working alone in this, or can we expect other... interruptions?" she demands.

"No." The elder’s evasive monosyllable earns a glower from Smoke Cat. "No,” he elaborates, “I am not alone; there is also a young woman of Rolling Thunder. However, she is irrelevant and knows nothing. So, no, there will be no more attacks." He falls silent, awaiting the next question as though this were a game.

"Why? Why would you do this?" Grey Owl bursts out, goaded beyond his limits and incapable of processing the would-be assassin’s overwhelming hatred.

"It is a long story young man. Are you sure you have the temperance to listen?" the attempted murderer needles his intended victim, all suavity and solicitude in his tone.

"Go on," his captor grits from between clenched teeth.

"Really, I hold nothing against you, boy, except for your abysmal choice of brides. But the daughters of White Bear, and yes, I've seen which way the wind is blowing regarding Wolf Calling and Star Hawk, must not be allowed to monopolize the power in this region."

Smoke Cat Watching blinks as if dust were being blown into her eyes. "You'd really kill to prevent what you see as potential dynastic ambitions?" she asks.

"Don't be stupid, shaman. I have more respect for your intelligence." Now it is Smoke who struggles to keep her temper. “But they are the most precious treasures of their father’s heart. And White Bear must suffer as I have suffered. I lost my son to the same fever that took your mother, Smoke Cat, all because our clan leader allowed Rolling Thunder to claim the best trade route territory that year rather than fight for it. The medicine was too slow in coming."

This time the young shaman plays a waiting game; truthfully, she is aghast at the old man's stored up vitriol. Grey Owl might have spoken then, but he does not want to split the elder's attention and divert him from the tale. At last, as the grudging silence stretches on, Smoke Cat remarks, "There are many potential suspects at a wedding; you selected your opportunity well."

Talks Over the Left looks smug but also nettled. "Yes," he says, "but the coup was to deprive her father of Springing Doe just at her proudest and happiest moment."

"I see. Presumably I was next on the schedule. Or perhaps not. When did you plan to eliminate Wolf Calling, since waiting for another wedding would be so... unoriginal?" the shaman questions dryly.

Smoke Cat Watching doesn’t even bother to curb her sharp tongue anymore. “I’m sure you could have arranged for quite a triumph for her tonight in the ring, if you’d expanded and strengthened the confusion on Star Hawk’s, or rather not his, knife a bit to affect all of him. Or wouldn’t a victory over the next chieftain have been a significant enough accomplishment? Still, losing both girls in one night would have been devastating.”

The old man sighs. "It doesn't matter now," he murmurs, and slumps forward.

Outside the tent, White Bear's daughters have been standing guard... just in case. It has been a long night so far, and both are tired. Additionally, Song the Wolf Calling is beginning to get sore and stiff. But they have a duty to protect their people against the chance of the killer's escape.

If he gets loose, he might decide that the death of any couple, or any family, would do as well. Every so often, therefore, they switch places and smile encouragingly at each other. Suddenly there is light and a flurry of movement inside the tent. Shortly order is restored, however, and it appears as though Smoke Cat's plan has been successful. Nevertheless, the sisters must continue watching from a distance... just in case. Wolf Calling fingers her knife. Springing Doe hopes her new husband was not hurt.

Inside the newlyweds' tent, Talks Over the Left's head is bent, so no one sees his eyes begin to glow just faintly green with demon mischief. As he has been talking, the old man has also been working at his restraints, and as they fall to the ground, he throws his head back with more strength than a normal elder should possess. His crown connects with Grey Owl's jaw, and the younger man collapses, unconscious. Talks Over the Left leaps up and runs to the nearest wall. He heaves, and tent pegs go flying.

Before he dives through the opening created, though, the supernaturally spry old man aims a kick at the tent's center pole, cracking it, bringing the roof down on top of Smoke Cat Watching. This happens so fast that none of the young women immediately think to scream for help. As Talks Over the Left emerges from the falling tent, he spies a female whose is identical to ‘pretty girl’ and, not caring why she is there, decides that she is once again useful. In two tremendous bounds he reaches the undercover Springing Doe and clutches her to him.

The second he touches her, the would-be killer identifies her aura, and grins evilly. "Even better," he says. Springing Doe feels a greasiness and a shadow spread over her, and she finds it difficult to think. "Go," he orders her, "run away!" and pushes her towards the horses. With that, the elder throws a spare tent peg at Wolf Calling, and sprints in her direction, now wearing the semblance of Springing Doe, just as the older girl unwillingly mimics himself. Song falls, hit and stunned.

Smoke Cat slithers free of the partially caved-in tent, the lamp in one hand and Star Hawk's genuine knife, point sticky with a single drop of her blood, in the other. Her eyes tell her that Talks Over the Left, perhaps wounded, is awkwardly making for the horses, while Springing Doe runs to aid her sister, perhaps also wounded and certainly lying on the ground. But the shaman has learned the hard way not to underestimate demon mischief, and hesitates, just for a minute, to act. Meanwhile she mutters over the barely lit lamp, and it flares up again.

Wolf Calling's head hurts, she's dazed from a blow, but there's something important that she has to do. She's trying to remember. Springing Doe's head hurts, she's dazed from a spell, but there's something important that she has to do. She's trying to remember. Oddly, the lamplight helps.

The sisters have a prearranged signal, something they agreed beforehand would yield the greatest effect if the murderer should break free. They were to yell... to yell... "Fire!" both girls shout simultaneously, the one word most designed to rouse alarm in a prairie people.

"Yes," agrees Smoke Cat softly, and hurls the lamp at the man who resembles Springing Doe, at the only one not shouting. The sparks catch and cling like burrs, blazing intensely and sinking into cloth and skin.

Talks Over the Left swiftly reaches Song the Wolf Calling and scoops her up from the ground. Hugging her closely, he glares fury at Smoke Cat and snarls, "Douse your flames, or she burns with me." Bitter tears well in the shaman's eyes, but she obeys the demonic old man's demand. Springing Doe runs a few more steps away from the action, compelled against her will. Song, jostled awake however, still has her knife. Fiercely she twists and stabs it immediately beneath his ribs; now, he is bleeding from the liver.

Sadly, this will kill him quickly, but not instantaneously. Wolf Calling accepts that she is about to die and goes limp in her captor's arms. This gives Grey Owl, just now appearing from under the tent, a clear target, and snatching Star Hawk's knife from the young shaman's slack fingers, he throws it unerringly at what seems to be his own wife's left shoulder; so, Talks Over the Left is bleeding from the lung, as well, and is having difficulty breathing. He abandons Wolf Calling to pluck out the knives and try to heal himself.

The old man's masking magic is wavering, he is panting and sweat pours off him, but the wounds do seal over and the internal bleeding becomes sluggish. Talks Over the Left's revenge is lost to him for the moment, yet his demon strength remains enough to get him to the horses and safety. Swerving on his heel, he changes direction and overtakes the real Springing Doe rapidly. The sparks reignite, but he doesn’t slacken in his running. Grey Owl starts to pursue him, but his wife calls him up short.

"No," she says, striving to focus her thoughts. "Star Hawk Burning." And just then, as if on cue, the smoldering ill-wisher and attempted murderer stumbles and crashes to the ground, feathers sprouting from his back, and the arrow tip protruding from his chest wet with heart blood. With his death, the disgraced elder's spells dissipate and vanish. Everyone rushes to see how badly Song is injured. Everyone but Smoke Cat, who walks grimly over to the corpse that housed the demon mischief.

Smoke Cat Watching looks down into the dead elder's eyes. There's no doubt that Talks Over the Left is deceased. However, the pupils of his eyes still glow eerily green with demon magic. The young shaman was hoping that his case wouldn't be so advanced, but he had opened a doorway that she must shut.

Children awakened by the cry of "Fire," and whose attention was drawn by the burning old man, later swear that out of his mouth and the wound in his chest, a roiling, churning darkness issued, blotting out the night with its deeper blackness. Then, however, the sparks arced up from his body, interlacing and lashing down the stirring mass, until finally it subsided and ebbed completely away. And the children are backed up in their claims by the more fanciful adults, and those who had too much to drink.

With that feat performed, Smoke Cat presses a hand weakly to her forehead. Her head aches, and she feels faint, but she knows where her duty lies, and that her foster sisters need her. Thankfully, Star Hawk Burning, returning from his distant knoll, is there to take her arm and guide her steps to Song the Wolf Calling's side. He, too, is seriously anxious. The girl herself is holding a cold cloth to her head, now, and smells slightly of scorched villain, but her mood seems almost mellow. "It’s over?" she asks.

"And done," her friend and shaman confirms.

White Bear prowls through the dawn of his camp. Many guests are lying rolled up in tiny tents near the bonfire of last night... the intentional fire. But, despite a disturbed and disturbing night, his people are safe, and that is good. Mentally, he accounts for the current locations of his daughters.

All have done well for themselves, proven themselves many times over, and are now resting in well-deserved sleep. Springing Doe and her new husband have found a smaller, but more anonymous and intimate tent, in which to spend the remainder of their wedding night. Smoke Cat Watching, his adopted child, is curled up in her own dwelling, still only a whisper away from waking should she be needed yet dropping towards deeper slumber as the sun rises. She had almost insisted on tending Song herself but was persuaded to compromise.

Song the Wolf Calling is the most worrisome. When Smoke Cat earlier examined her injury, the shaman proclaimed that she was lucky to have received only a glancing blow from the tossed tent peg. However, Wolf Calling will be closely monitored, just in case. At the moment, Song is drowsing in Star Hawk Burning's tent, as he has volunteered to stay awake and periodically ask the girl if she knows who and where she is. So far, she has always known and oddly been less exasperated with the questioning than one would think.

Star Hawk Burning is sitting cross legged at the entrance to his tent as White Bear comes abreast with him. "I hear you are entrusted with the health of my youngest girl," the chieftain says softly.

"For now," replies Star Hawk Burning, "and for now it will do. She needs time."

"Indeed, Star Hawk, it will not be easy. When she is herself again, she will say, among other things, that she let you win," Song's father says wisely.

"We'll see what we will see," the young man philosophizes. "Time to wake her..."

As for the ‘pretty girl’, she will be spiritually cleansed and then cast out of Rolling Thunder Clan. But exile on the Silken Way is not the most terrible punishment that could be meted out. Her name has already been stripped from her since her misdeeds dishonored it; she must strive to earn another.

Overall, Blue Turtle Dreaming is pleased with how deftly the threat was handled, although the young ones should have asked for more help, and sooner. It was a close thing, yet they have learned much, hopefully, and it is a good day! Perhaps he will take a nap.