Free People of the Thunder (North America's Forgotten Past) by W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O'Neal Gear

Contrary.
    “The Kala Hi’ki says that a Horned Serpent lives under Split Sky City in the Black Warrior River,” Old White said suddenly. “He told me the story of his escape. According to him, he died, and Horned Serpent took him to the Underworld and healed his wounds. Then it left him on the banks of the Tenasee for his people to find.”
    Trader lifted an eyebrow, happy for a distraction. “Then, maybe we’d better not go to Split Sky City.”
    “Oh?”
    “You’ve heard the stories. Horned Serpents are supposed to be enamored of copper. There are legends that if you can follow one down to its lair, you would find a huge cache of copper. I’ve heard that for copper, Horned Serpents will do great favors, grant wishes and Power to anyone who can meet their price.” Trader narrowed an eye. “Even drag an enemy’s canoe underwater and drown someone.”
    Old White gave him a tired sigh. “Beware, Trader. Sometimes I think you covet that copper more than your own life.”
    He chuckled. “That’s all right. Giving up the copper might be worth it if I could see a real Horned Serpent. In all my travels, I should have seen at least one. Several times, I thought I had, but closer investigation proved they were just submerged logs. How about you? Ever seen a Horned Serpent, or Tie Snake?”
    Old White shook his head. “Not without the help of Spirit plants or a high fever.” He paused. “But then, I never tried luring one in with copper, either.”
    They enjoyed a companionable silence before Old White added, “I have gone to places—caves, springs, empty canyons—where people have sworn Spirit beasts lived, but none ever appeared to me in this world. Over the years, I’ve grown skeptical. On the other hand, it doesn’t matter where you go, people believe these things. Whether it is Sedna, at the bottom of the sea, or Nanabush in the far northeast, none have appeared to me.” He smiled. “When the
Katsinas
came to me to tell me to go home, my souls were floating with the Power of a cactus button.”
    “I don’t know that plant.”
    “From the far south, in the desert, north and west of the Azteca. The Huichol call the Spirit
Peyote
. I have some if you would like to try it sometime. But the point is: I think the world of the Spirit beasts lies side by side with ours. Remember our discussion of the Healer’s bits of bone? We are separated, kept apart by some barrier I do not understand. One must pass through the portals to move from this world to the next. In the case of the Kala Hi’ki he had to die first. Because he did, he sees out of that world into ours.”
    “So, they can see us, but we can’t see them.” Trader nodded. It figured. All of life had rules. “Is that why Power is sending us to Split Sky City? Because we can do what some Spirit cannot?”
    “That would be my guess.”
    “How are we supposed to know what to do?”
    Old White glanced at Two Petals. “Ask the Contrary. She sees things we do not. Hears voices beyond our human ears. Through her, they will tell us when the time comes.”
    Trader nodded, remembering Old White’s misinterpretation of the stone and wood statement during the chunkey game. “If we are smart enough to understand.”
    Old White was nodding off, his eyes half-closed.
    Trader yawned. “Time to sleep.”
    But after he rolled into his robes, his Dreams were troubled. In them, he killed his brother over and over.

    Two days of freezing rain had left Split Sky City sodden, cold, and miserable. People had huddled around their fires in an effort to avoid stepping out into the cold. Ice had rimed pestles, ramada roofs, and any other object left outside. It had coated the ground, making travel difficult. Finally the weather had broken, the clouds retreating to the north. At first opportunity, Smoke Shield had called out his Hickory Moiety men.
    The Albaamaha councilor called Amber Bead stood at the edge of the plaza and watched the Chikosi war chief berate his