People of the Lakes(248)

“I want you,” he whispered urgently.

“What if I told you I was raped by the Khota?”

He backed away slightly, frowning. “Does that make a difference?

I wouldn’t hurt you, Pearl.”

“But to know—”

“Hush. The butchers who killed my wife raped her repeatedly before they finally cut her head from her body. I wouldn’t have cared what they’d done to her if I could only have had her back.

Don’t you see, I want to love like that again. To cherish and hold someone. To smile down into a woman’s face and see her smiling back at me.”

Pearl nodded, aware of the magical moonlight on the water, flickering silver as the endless waves crashed against the white sands. “And what if you find that I’m not the right woman?

What if—”

He placed fingers to her lips, stilling her. “I know you’re the right woman, Pearl. I can feel you in my soul. Stay with me.”

Otter snapped awake. The rhythmic sounds of surf and the faint pop of the fire mingled with the breeze blowing in from the water. He sat up in his blankets, tormented by dreams of blood and terror. Rubbing his face, he looked around, thankful for a night on shore instead of in Wave Dancer’?, cramped stern.

The fire had burned down to coals, and he rose to add a couple of sticks to ensure strong embers in the morning. Catcher lifted his head to look, then flopped back on his side with a sigh.

Otter added wood and sat for a moment, watching the moonlight as the flames built. Where had this sense of foreboding come from?

Pearl’s bedding was still rolled in a bundle. He glanced over, seeing Thin Belt where he slept soundly. Black Skull’s rasping snores couldn’t be mistaken. So where was Trout? And where was Pearl?

Otter leaped up and walked carefully from the camp, looking up and down the moon-washed beach. He stepped down to the Ilini canoe and peered inside, finding only netting. Wave Dancer, too, was unoccupied.

Did he dare call out? No. To awaken the camp might bring him humiliation. Instead, he started circling, trying to work out the tracks the way Black Skull would—and found two sets headed northward along the water.

Fists knotting, he trotted on their trail. What did she think she was doing? Trout might not understand that she’d been hurt by the Khota. And by the ancestors, if he’s hurt her, I’m going to beat him to within a finger’s width of his life!

The anger continued to build, warming the pit of his gut.

He barely noticed the white mound of sand, intent only on the footprints on the beach. Somewhere out there, he’d find a black blot of two human bodies, and when he did—

The mound of sand exploded, spooking Otter half out of his wits. As he stumbled backward, he could hear muffled giggling, followed by, “Who fools the fool?”

“Green Spider?” Otter squinted through the sandy haze.

“What are you doing out here?”

The Contrary sat up from the wrecked sandpile. “I was listening to the waves underground. The problem is that people never really listen. They let their thoughts clog everything up so that they couldn’t hear if they tried. Have you listened recently, Otter?”

“I think so.” He stared absently out at the water.

Green Spider’s supple fingers were tracing patterns in the sand. “Where do waves come from? What motivates them?

Think about it. Would you start way out in the depths to just race forward and splash on a beach?”

Otter swallowed his heart back down to its rightful place.

“Green Spider, what are you doing out here?”

The Contrary looked up. “Wondering, Otter. You’ve worked yourself into a wave. Why?”

“A wave? What wave? What are you talking about?”

“You left the far shore … just a little tiny ripple. But in the deep water, the wave built, a swell that lifted everything before it. And now, here, I’ve watched you come rolling down the beach, ready to wash everything away, and in the end, all you’ll do is make a splash. The gleaming round pearl will flee to the big fish, who will swim away, the victor of an unfought fight.

And you, my friend, despite all of your foaming fury, will turn and slide back toward the water in defeat just as another wave washes over you.”

Otter growled, “.Black Skull is right. Just once, I wish you’d act like a real human being. Can’t you talk straight?” “Black Skull says that only when he isn’t listening—as you aren’t now.” Green Spider’s uncertain gaze went to the sand packed between his legs. “Why are some beaches sandy and others not? I mean, where does sand come from?”

Otter raised his hands. “All right, one more time. What are you trying to tell me?”