People of the Black Sun(32)

As the panic drained from Hiyawento’s muscles, his heartbeat began to slow, and the feeling of impending doom that had become his constant companion returned. He couldn’t seem to shake it. It was as though he could feel Sodowegowah’s icy breath upon his cheek.

As he walked toward Zateri, Kahn-Tineta shrieked, “Father! Father!”

She wriggled out of Zateri’s arms, and ran to him, her arms up, her fingers working in a “take me, take me,” gesture.

Hiyawento lifted her, and her legs went around his waist. He kissed her hair, and said, “Let’s sit down beside your mother.”

Kahn-Tineta had her chin propped on his shoulder, and every muscle in the girl’s body trembled. He stroked her hair softly. “You’re all right,” he whispered. “Look around you. The camps are quiet and still.”

“The witch is out there, Father! I saw him!”

Hiyawento lowered himself to a cross-legged position on the hides beside Zateri and shifted Kahn-Tineta to his lap where he could look into her wild eyes. “Where did you see him? Show me.”

“Right there!” she pointed again. “He sneaked from the trees and was watching me. He’s going to get me!”

Zateri gave him a wrenching look. Firelight flickered over her flat face with its wide nose. Her two front teeth, which stuck out slightly, made her lips appear to protrude. She mouthed the word, “Again.”

This was the second night in a row that the “witch” had come to Kahn-Tineta in her dreams.

Hiyawento stroked his daughter’s back and gazed directly into her dark eyes. “I told you, my daughter, the witch is dead. I killed him. What did I do after that? Do you remember?”

“You dismembered his corpse and scattered the pieces far and wide so that no one could ever find him and Sing him to the afterlife.”

“That’s right. Dismemberment also immobilizes the angry Spirit of the Dead, so it can’t run off seeking revenge.”

She sobbed. “But he came back to life, Father! Just like the stories said he would. He can’t die! He’s still after me.”

Zateri folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself, and lifted her face to study the moon-silvered night sky. A few Cloud People drifted across the charcoal background, their edges gleaming. It had only been seven days since they’d left Kahn-Tineta with her grandmother Tila and trotted off to war with the Standing Stone nation. How could they have known that Zateri’s father, Atotarho, would hire Ohsinoh to kidnap their last daughter so that he could use the little girl as leverage against them? He was unnaturally canny. Even then Atotarho must have suspected that Coldspring, Riverbank, and Canassatego villages were secretly aligning against him.

“Well, don’t worry,” Hiyawento said, pandering to her fear. “If he returns, I’ll shoot him through the heart and crush his skull again. He’ll never get you. I’ll—”

“He got me once! He stole me right out of Atotarho Village!”

He adjusted her cape, straightening it around her small body. “Well, I wasn’t there to protect you, but I am—”

“Father, I—I wish Sky Messenger was here to protect me.”

Hiyawento smiled sadly. “I wish he were here, too. I miss him. But if he were here, do you know what he would tell you about the witch?”

She blinked wide eyes. “What?”

“Sky Messenger would tell you that condemned souls change after death. When souls discover they can never reach the Land of the Dead, they are so overwhelmed with grief, they seek out the comfort of loved ones. Usually, they return to their home villages to move unseen among their relatives. They eat the dregs from the cooking pots—that’s why we often hear them rattling for no reason at night. Lost souls take comfort from familiar surroundings. They are too distraught to even think of kidnapping little girls they barely know.”

Kahn-Tineta tucked a finger in her mouth and began sucking on it … a thing she had not done in five summers, since she was three.

In a firm voice, Hiyawento said, “You’re safe, Kahn-Tineta. I give you my oath.”

His daughter slowly began to relax in his arms. Her cries became less choked, but still punctuated with occasional sobs.

“Not only that…” He reached down to pull the small medicine bag from her cape. It hung around her neck, suspended on a braided leather cord. “Your mother is one of the greatest Healers in the land. She makes powerful Spirit medicines.” He held the bag up to his daughter’s nose. “What do you smell?”

She sniffed. “Wood nettle and white oak.”

“That’s right. They can counteract even the most powerful witchcraft. That’s why your mother told you never to take this off.”