The warriors hurried along the deer trail she and Tall Man had followed down the sloping ridge that evening. Who would have guessed that Robin would have been this close?
How had he found them so late at night? The fire! With the wind, the smell of smoke must have drifted up to the top of the ridge. A lookout, a hunter, or even a man out relieving himself, might have smelled it. Only Tall Man’s vigilance, or his Power, had kept them all from being captured.
Star Shell crossed the uneven outcrops of weathered sandstone and retraced the trail until she came to a place where lightning had blasted an oak. Before her stretched an old bum where the wind had carried the flames. No more than fifty strides ahead, Robin had set up camp. A fire burned, sending eerie reflections to wander among the trees like an army of shadows.
At least a dozen warriors stood around, laughing, “watching … Star Shell started to shake so hard that she had to brace a hand against the lightning-scarred tree and lock her knees. She shoved the knotted fist of her other hand into her mouth to mute the anguished sobs that rose from her horror-choked throat They’d hung Tall Man from a stout oak tree next to the fire, and then they’d slit open his belly. Robin was slowly feeding the dangling intestine to a pot of boiling water.
The little man cried out again. His entire weight hung by his wrists—his arms bound behind his back. To hang so was terribly painful, and if hung so for long, the arms never worked right again, for the muscles tore and the ligaments separated.
She could see the firelight bathing Tall Man’s sweating face.
He wouldn’t last long. The hanging position, coupled with the strain on the diaphragm from evisceration, impaired the lungs, causing shortness of breath.
“Where are they?” Robin bellowed, bending close. “Tell me, Magician! Tell me, and I’ll let you die in peace.”
“South!” he croaked. “South … toward Star Shell’s mother’s clan.”
“South?” Robin fingered his chin, the human-jaw breastplate gleaming in the firelight. “Then why are you up north, little man?”
“Decoy,” the Magician rasped. Then he turned his head and looked straight at the trees where Star Shell hid. ulook … for the Trader … snakes on his cheeks.”
“What? What Trader?” Robin demanded.
Tall Man’s eyes bugged out, and his tongue protruded. Again he managed to lift . head and stare at Star Shell, gasping: “Trader … snakes on his cheeks! Tell him I would have—”
“He’s delirious,” Woodpecker decided. “Too much pain from the steam backing up into the tubes.”
Tall Man’s voice dropped. “Forgive … me … “
Star Shell stumbled backward on clumsy feet, her retreat covered by a final shriek that split the night. She staggered into the trees and rushed blindly over the crest of the ridge, heedless of the rocks she tripped over.
They’ll find our tracks at first light. We have to leave. Now!
She dashed downward, reeling off of trees, ripping through the vines. Dead saplings slapped at her as she tore her way toward the thicket.
“Mama?” Silver Water whispered from the sumac. “Mama, I’m scared!”
Star Shell dropped to her knees, gasping for breath and sanity.
Tears welled to blind her, and she sobbed, pulling at her hair.
“Mama?”
Star Shell glanced at the hiding place, stunned. There a thicket of poison sumac was bathed by the moon’s white light. She shook her head, remembering the little sticks and twists of grass that Tall Man had left as he backed away. Had he used all t>f his Power to shield them while he forced Robin’s warriors to chase him down?
She scrambled forward, throwing the Mask pack and her blanket over her shoulder, then gripping her daughter’s hand and dragging her out.
“Come on, baby. We’ve got to run again.” Trader … snakes on his cheeks … Tall Man had said those words to her, and to her alone. How had he known she could hear?
Never mind! Run!
“I know, Mama. I don’t want to get caught like Tall Man.”
Star Shell licked her lips, staring around wildly. “Then you know what Robin will do to us if he finds us.”
“I don’t want him to kill me.” Silver Water started down the trail, adding, “But he’d rape us first, Mama,”
“You’re too young to know about such things, baby.”
“I’m too young to know about a lot of things—but that can’t be helped, can it, Mama?”
“No, sweetheart, I guess not.” And as she hurried down the trail, she began to settle down, steadied by her daughter’s cool appraisal of their situation.