them all.' 'Pretty ambitious for a pup. You have any idea what you're asking?'
Sam knew what he wanted to do with the magic, but Howling Coyote hadn't really told him much about how the Dance worked. 'Not really.'
Dog sniffed at the grass at his side. 'Magic, the world, and life stick together tighter than a burr in fur,' he said finally. 'The Dance is part of those connections, and all of them. You can't have one without the other. You sure you want to do this thing?' 'No.'
'Good answer. We sure are being honest today.' Dog barked a laugh. 'But want to or not, you still gotta.' 'Why?'
'Thought you learned to believe in me.' 'I have.'
'That's why you gotta. I to Dog and you're Dog, man.' Dog placed a paw on Sam's leg and stared him hi the eye. 'Dog is friend to Man, a guardian totem to protect him from evil. I don't see the web-spinner as being real healthy for man, do you?' ' 'No.'
'See, I knew you were a bright boy even before the first time I laid eyes on you.'
Something hi Dog's tone made Sam suddenly suspicious. 'Which was?'
'None of your business. I tell you everything and I lose my mystery. What good's a totem without mystery, huh?' Dog backed away from Sam, then shifted his feet in a most uncanine fashion. The plunging side step with his left forepaw looked particularly difficult for his canine anatomy. 'You want to try this step, or not?'
If this was the Great Ghost Dance, he did. Sam stood and tried the step. The air around him deadened, as if thunder were being held in abeyance. He felt a phantom power coiling around the steps as he took them. Even the practice dance reverberated with the strength of the magic.
Dog showed him the steps and taught him the song. Sam was acutely aware of the danger of getting the ritual wrong. He tried very hard to memorize the moves and tones exactly. At last, Dog sat and looked at him. The totem's eyes were sad. 'You know that what you want is dangerous.' So what else was new? 'I figured as much.' 'You willing to pay the price?' Sam nodded. 'If it will do what I need it to do.' Dog shook his head slowly. 'What makes you think your need is what drives the magic, or what will make it work for you?'
'Didn't you say that I need to protect mankind?' 'Man has the need to be protected. You have a desire, but is it the right one? Only you can know. But it had better be. The power you're toying with doesn't like being fooled. If you're not pure enough, it will toast you. And you're only touching the tip of the magic.'
'Just what is this purity?' Dog started trotting down the road. 'You'll know.' 'How? When I find out I don't have it and get roasted?'
'Maybe.' Dog stopped and looked back at him. 'What do you want? There ain't no sureties in magic. It's just like life that way. You do your best and hope for the best. If you are in tune with your nature the power will flow, and all will be as it should. If not… well, let's just say you won't have to worry much in that case.'
'That's not very encouraging.' 'Like maybe I should scratch you behind the ears, give you a yummy, and lie to you?'
Dog turned away and began to run. This session was over. Sam turned his back on the otherworld and found himself in the tunnel. Howling Coyote still sat there, waiting and smoking. 'How did it go?'
'I can feel the magic.' As Sam said it, he knew it was true. 'I know I can do it, but I don't know how to deal with the mundane threat.'
Howling Coyote frowned, but something seemed to hide behind his expression. 'The magic won't do it?' 'Only its part.'
The hidden smile appeared. 'You have learned. Now all ya got to do is use your brain.' 'What do you mean?'
The smoking pipe vanished with a flick of the shaman's wrist. 'Line up your dancers.'
'You're being as obscure as Dog. Doesn't anybody associated with magic ever speak plainly?'
The shaman laughed. 'Not if they can avoid it. Keeps the riffrafl7 out of the trade.'
'So what are you suggesting I do?' 'You're Dog, aren't you?' Howling Coyote asked, suddenly serious. 'Summon your pack.'
At first she thought it was another dream, but her surroundings hadn't changed. She was still in the basement of the abandoned house Ghost had chosen for them. The only thing out of place was the ghostly image of her brother, standing nearby and pressing on the protective circle she had made. Since she wasn't dreaming, he was really there or rather, his astral projection was. He looked worried.
She sat up and reached out to tug on the magic surrounding her, adjusting the ward to let him enter the circle. He drifted in to stand at her bedside.
'So, you're not dead,' she said, reminding him that he'd left her hanging.
'No. I only came close a few times.' 'So you ran into a few problems.' She dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand, not wanting him to know she'd been worried. 'Was that any reason not to call?'
'You sound like Mother.'
The past was haunting her enough in her dreams. She didn't need him bringing old memories into her waking life. The dreams were full of tragedies enough. 'Yeah, well. But you can't say I look like her anymore.'
He looked abashed, as though realizing how his offhanded comment had hurt her. Let him be embar 226
Robert N. Charrette rassed; she didn't want bis or anyone's pity. 'I suppose you've been busy working on that.' 'Yes, but…'
'But it's hopeless,' she finished for him. She had known it would be. His quest to Denver had just been time wasted. She was what she was; there was no way to change it.
'That's not what I was going to say.' He sounded annoyed. 'I don't think it's hopeless, but it's not going to be soon.'
So he wanted her to continue trying to ignore the hunger. Didn't he know how hard that was? 'What do you mink I am? A saint?' 'No, I know you're just human.' She laughed bitterly at that. 'No matter what you look like, you're still human. That's why you're still trying to beat the wendigo nature. You know what being a wendigo means, and you know it's wrong.'
So what if she did? She was a wendigo now. The wendigo nature was her nature, even if she hadn't yet surrendered to her craving. 'Who says I even want to change now?'
'You do. You shout it every day you live without killing and eating anyone.' 'What about the dzoo? Doesn't it count?' He looked sad. 'God forgives the repentant.' 'He tasted good.' She said it to annoy him, but it was also the truth. The dzoo had tasted good, much better than the stuff Ghost brought her. She turned away, shivering. Whether the memory-borne chill was one of delight or horror, she wasn't sure. He noticed her reaction.
'See. You're not resigned to the inevitable. That means you still have hope, and that will be your salvation.' He moved around in front of her. 'I know about the food Ghost had been hunting for you. I've already talked with him. You'll only have to put up with it a while longer.'
'Yeah, well. Maybe I will and maybe I won't. You telling me that you're ready to try again?'
He hesitated. 'Well, I was hoping to, but something has come up. Something very important.' In a jumbled rush, he told her about Spider and what he had learned of her plans. After sketching a bare outline of the facts, he took a deep breath and said, 'I'm sorry, Janice. I hope you'll understand that this is more important than any one person.'
Something was always more important. 'So much for your claims of love.''
'I know how it must sound. I wish there were another way, but I don't see one. There just isn't time to take care of you first. There's too much at stake.'
'Yeah, right. Who cares about one soul when the world's in danger?'
'That's not fair. Or true, either. It's just the despair of the wendigo talking. If you don't want to accept that an obligation to mankind is involved, look to your totem. Wolf is a pack animal. What's a pack but an extended family, and a family has to take care of its own. I have to do this thing. You're part of the family, too.'
His indignation made her mad. She growled. 'So take care of your own. You're the one who insists that we're still family.'
'And we are femily,' he said firmly. 'But we're part of a bigger family,' he went on, more softly now. 'I can't let the whole family die so that one member can live.'
The good of the many. How often had she heard that? Well, she didn't want to hear it. The many hadn't given a thought to her, and she intended to return the favor. She wanted to worry about herself. Waving her arm in dismissal, she said, 'So go ahead and do what you want to do. You don't need my permission. I might even be
