“He’s making goosefoot cakes, Mama,” Silver Water said, her eyes glowing with anticipation. She rested on her stomach, button chin propped in grimy hands.
“Some of the best ever,” Pale Snake told her. “I learned this trick long ago. I mix flour with a little grease and some of the special starter I keep in this jar. I let it set for a bit and it fluffs up. Then I mash it flat again and put it in a pot to bake.”
“You seem to be most proficient at what you do,” Star Shell told him, keeping a hand on Silver Water for reassurance. She still hadn’t managed to decide whether she liked him or not.
Disdain for him. gave way to grudging acceptance that slid back into annoyance.
True, Pale Snake was a handsome man, of medium height, muscular, and carefully dressed. An atlatl hung from his belt, along with several pouches, the contents of which Star Shell could only guess. The sinuous snakes tattooed on his lean cheeks were the most notable of his features. They seemed to coil for a strike every time he smiled—and Pale Snake, she’d discovered, smiled a great deal.
“This won’t be ready to eat for a while yet.” He puckered his lips. “But the night is warm, and we have a screen of willows to block us from the main channel. Why don’t you two go down to the creek? It might be the last chance you get to wash up.”
“And leave the Mask here, I suppose?” Star Shell cocked an eyebrow. Let’s hear it, Trader Pale Snake.
“If you’d like. Better yet, why don’t you take it with you … and while you’re down there, heave it into the middle of the current?”
“I don’t trust you,” Star Shell said as she stood up, taking Silver Water’s hand. The Mask stayed in its pack on her back.
“That’s because you don’t understand me.” He used a stick to rearrange the coals.
“Oh, how wrong you are. I do understand some things about you. You’re a man, at the very least. Should I worry about you peeking through the bushes while I’m washing?”
Pale Snake gave her a mild smile. “Of course you should.
You see, I know some things about you, too. You’re the worrying type. Now, accepting the fact that you’re a worrier, you wouldn’t feel right down there naked without tormenting your630 Kathleen O’Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear self as to whether or not I was wiggling through the grass on my belly to feast my eyes on your feminine allure. Such as it is. My advice, therefore, is that you go right ahead and worry … you’ll feel better about it.”
“You are not funny. You are despicable!”
“No, no, now, that’s my father’. We never did get along. In fact, I figure that’s why he sent you. It’s the sort of thing he’d do. Some sort of punishment or torment inflicted on me … just out of spite.”
Father? Star Shell hesitated. Her weary thoughts tried to find order, but they couldn’t string themselves together. What did he mean by that? While she thought about it, she retreated through the plums with her daughter.
“He’s a strange man,” Silver Water said. “He’s scared of me.”
“No one should be scared of you, baby.” But we are, aren’t we? Pale Snake saw the changes in you that I want only to ignore.
She studied the spot he’d told her about. A clear creek flowed out of a mat of brash and was screened by tall rushes before it emptied into the river. The evening carried a chill, but the water did look wonderful. She need only look down at her sleeves, at the stains and caked grime, to know what a mess she was. So much for the privileged maiden ofstarsky. But then, that maiden had vanished a long time ago.
“Come on, baby. Let’s make ourselves clean.” She swung the Mask pack down where it would be close and peeled out of her clothing. As she waded into the water, she caught herself glancing up the slope, waiting for his leering grin.
She flinched at the cold but settled herself into the stream, gasping as the frigid water lapped around her stomach. Silver Water watched from the bank.
“Come on, baby.”
“It looks cold.”
“It looks clean. I haven’t felt this way since … ” But she couldn’t say Greets the Sun’s name. Not anymore. That dream, too, had been laid in its tomb. If I lose any more of myself, there won’t be anything left.
Silver Water pulled off her dress and waded in, her face contorting in displeasure. Star Shell grabbed one of her arms and dragged her into the deeper water, the action accompanied by shrill squeaks.
“Let’s get really clean.”
“It’s coldl”
As Star Shell scrubbed her daughter down, she kept glancing up the slope. Pale Snake perplexed her. He seemed to know everything about her—and the Mask—and he could joke! A sorcerer? Afraid of Silver Water?