West

"Do you really think killing innocent people makes what you went through right?" I asked, testing him.

He was silent for a long moment, guiding the horse. I held my breath and worked on stopping my shivering.

"You were right. You are a fool and you are crazy. No one, even my uncle, will listen to your words," he said finally. "Fighting Badger told me what you told him. I thought him speaking out of madness, but it is you who speaks out of madness."

Ugh. I hate being compared to a psychopath. I didn't have much of a defense. Speaking to spirits, coming from the future … I sounded worse than his brother.

"It is a shame."

"What is?" I asked.

"My brother likes you. You made him feel less alone. When you were with him, he said he did not have to struggle against who he was. He did not want to hurt you the way he does everyone else. But you … you are too mad even for him, Talks to Spirits."

I hated that I pitied Fighting Badger. Knowing what he'd done, I still didn't want him to be in the pain he was in. The idea that I helped, even though he terrified me, soothed the part of me that was still ruffled from the visit.

"Are you taking me to him?" I asked, unable to tell what direction we went in the storm.

"No."

"Then where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe for you and my people."

I swallowed hard. His memories were in turmoil, as if he, too, was worried. His mind had flickered to the death of family but remained on his brother. No matter what Carter wanted me to believe, Running Bear wasn't the man who caused the violence I saw.

"You think your brother capable of starting this war, don't you?" I asked, holding onto the sliver of hope that the future was going to be easy to change, if not through their chief, then maybe with Running Bear's help.

"I don't know."

He led me through the prairielands as the storm's intensity built. His thoughts were too jumbled for me to determine his intentions; they flew too quickly for me to pay attention when I was worried about the encroaching lightning.

We walked for a solid hour in the rain. He showed no sign of cold or slowing, while I shivered and hunched next to the horse's neck for warmth. Only when I was too soaked and cold to feel my nose and cheeks did I notice we were approaching a cabin at the base of a hill. The faint, yellow glow of fire and lanterns almost made me groan. As we neared, I made out the shape of a large barn and fence posts of a corral. The property was far smaller than John's.