"Kathleen O' Neal & Michael W. Gear - People 3 - People Of The Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Neal Kathleen)

In the camp, the slim girl laughed and clapped her hands as she taunted
one of the little boys and skipped out of his
reach. She moved with the grace of a yearling doe. The dying light
gleamed off the wealth of her long black hair.

The old woman stopped her story, turning to glare. Raising her voice,
she berated the girl. The boys immediately backed away, leaving her
alone before the old woman's wrath. The hag erupted in another
outburst and the girl nodded, eyes downcast. Then the child fled,
lustrous hair streaking out behind her.

Sage Ghost started to edge away--to slip silently over the cut bank and
skirt the camp--when movement caught his eye. His mouth went dry.

A huge black wolf watched him from the shadows of the greasewood. Its
triangular ears pricked forward, while gleaming yellow eyes seemed to
burn into his soul, measuring, probing. Power pulsed in the air.

This is the place. Fragments of the vision returned to him. Giddy
energy charged his muscles. Breath shortened in his lungs. Power did
that, sneaked up on a man and blew through his soul like a freezing
wind.

He swallowed hard and glanced back at the mounded dwellings of the
Earth People. What next? The girl squatted down, separate from her
playmates. She watched one of the little boys drawing on the ground
with a stick. Her dejected posture touched something in Sage Ghost's
soul.

Yes, you are the one, child. Now I have to be cunning-and as brave as
I've ever been. His heart began to pound.

He looked over his shoulder at the wolf--and shivered. No trace of the
animal remained. Sage Ghost filled his lungs, Power pressing down
around him like an aged buffalo robe.

Power is here, all around me, waiting. Power led me here, showed me
the wolf--just like the Dream said. That little girl, she's the one.
Power sent me for her.

Sage Ghost wiggled closer to the camp, trusting the graying light to
hide his movement from sharp eyes. No matter that he hadn't seen any
warriors, a man never knew about the Power of others. The White Clay
believed that Thunderbird had given them the best of Power, but other
folk-especially those tied so closely to the earth--might have their
captive Demon Powers to-help them.
Getting the child away would be difficult in itself, and taking her
north to the White Clay camp on the Bug River would challenge all of
his wits and skill.