She pursed her lips in silent chastisement. “Of course. I’m not as dimwitted as you think.”
“When you’re thinking properly, no.”
He reached out to stroke her throat, and a strange shimmer lit the air, as though the light itself had fluoresced, leaving all living things aglow, softening sight and sound. Sky Messenger’s tanned face had a golden glitter.
Baji’s heartbeat slowed, barely there. Time seemed to linger, stretching like a bobcat on a warm summer afternoon.
In a tone that was at once hurt and half-angry, he said, “I’m glad you’re here. Don’t ever leave me again, Baji. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I won’t.”
He stroked her throat again, then turned away, and drew two wooden cups and spoons from his pack. After he’d placed them beside the fire, he said, “Hiyawento is going to meet us.”
“Really? Where?” The news gladdened her heart.
“On the trail to the east of Shookas Village, but it’ll probably be a few days. First, he needs to lead his warriors to Canassatego Village. Coldspring Village, Riverbank Village, and Canassatego Village decided to combine into one village.”
“To protect each other?”
“Yes.”
Baji squinted at the mossy patterns on the rocks that thrust up here and there around camp. “I pray they make it. We didn’t.”
The words affected her like a knife, cutting a dark pathway inside her. She could see it—the tunnel twisted down toward an inner chamber where her soul awaited deliverance from the tormented sense of isolation. It persisted even with Sky Messenger so close she could reach out and touch him.
When he sat down and put an arm around her, the dark tunnel evaporated like fog in warm sunlight. “Tell me everything. Where did Atotarho ambush you?”
“On the main trail to Flint country. Do you recall the narrow defile that leads up over the crest of the hill and plunges down into that stubby second-growth country near the Seagull Shallows?”
“Near the Rocky Meadows?”
“Yes.”
“Blessed gods, did they hit you as you came over the hill out of the defile?”
“No,” she said solemnly, “on the far side of the valley. Just as our war party was climbing up the steep slope through the rocky ledges, I … I should have seen them. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Probably because Atotarho’s warriors were under penalty of death if they even breathed until you were in position. Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do, Baji.” He hugged her.
Guilt made her throat ache. “It was … bizarre. Father and I were talking about Shago-niyoh when the attack came. Did you know that Cord saw him the night the old woman died?”
Sky Messenger jerked around to stare at her. “He never told me that.”
“Nor me.” Baji fumbled with her fingers, squeezing them in her lap as dread filtered through her. “Father had just asked me if I’d ever seen Shago-niyoh again, and I’d said no. Not even when I knew you were speaking with him. I used to try to see something, anything, moving around you, or hear his voice. I never did.”
“Until a few days ago, you mean.”
“Yes.”
One memory from the battle repeated behind her eyes: Cord, bleeding badly, rising to his feet with his war club in his fist, suddenly right beside her.
“I wish I … maybe if I’d…”
Her voice trailed away, and Sky Messenger seemed to sense that scenes of the battle tormented her. Hundreds of warriors stretched out like ants, climbing the steep incline … glitters in the sunlit air in front of the pines …
“Stop blaming yourself,” he ordered. “Cord didn’t see them, either, and he was one of the greatest war chiefs your people have ever known. Did Dzadi see them and call a warning? What about your scouts?”
“No. No one saw them. But … hundreds died, Sky Messenger. Hundreds.”
“How many warriors did Atotarho have?”
“Two thousand, maybe three. I didn’t have time to get a good count. We were outnumbered at least four to one, and completely surrounded. Father was wounded, shot through the right side.” Her hands clenched to fists. “Gods, I pray he’s all right.”
Sky Messenger’s brow furrowed. He picked up one of the wooden spoons and used it to stir the cook pot. The scent of smoked venison jerky wafted up with the steam. “How did you escape?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Truly. I heard your voice, and I—”
“My voice?” he said in surprise.
“Yes, you cried, ‘Baji, get down!’ and I leaped without thinking, just dove out of the way.” She lightly massaged the wound behind her ear. “That’s why I received a glancing blow rather than a crushed skull.”