“Of course I did,” Green Spider said simply as he turned around and paced away in steps that stretched his skinny legs to the limit. There, in the center of the crowd, he whirled like a stork in a pond and cocked his head. Cupping both hands to his mouth and filling his lungs until his ribs looked as if they would pop, he whispered in a voice Otter could barely hear, “You wouldn’t have heard me otherwise.” Black Skull sighed audibly, Ms. batrle-scarred hands clenching the war club so tight that his fingers whitened.
“What is all this?” Four Kills asked, stepping close to Black Skull.
My question exactly. Otter thought. He glanced nervously at the Clan Elders. They sat—each like a lump of wood—with faint smiles on their faces. Looking closely, Otter could see places where their hair was singed. The temple had supposedly been hit by lightning. Perhaps it had addled Green Spider’s soul? Too much Spirit Power? Could it singe a man’s Spirit the way it did hair? Burn away the ability to think clearly?
Black Skull had leaned closer to Four Kills. “The fool says he’s a Contrary. Does everything backwards—and he’s proud of it!”
“Not proud!” Green Spider corrected, prancing over to face the warrior. He looked very puny beside Black Skull.
“I’m free, Killer of Men. Free because I know what the snare looks like! To be free, you must live and breathe inside the rope. That’s the only way to keep from stepping in it and getting caught!”
Black Skull’s jaw clenched. “You want a rope? I’ll give you rope, just the size of your neck. I—”
“A Contrary!” Otter cried, and clapped his hands.
Grandmother stepped forward, a glint in her eyes as she stared at Green Spider. “Why didn’t I see it? It’s been so long … “
Four Kills turned, as if sensing Otter’s understanding. “Do you know what this means?”
Otter studied Green Spider with new interest. “I’ve met Contraries.
Most people guard them like the last sack of squash seeds in a famine. They’re good luck. Powerful.”
“Bad luck! Bad luck!” Green Spider insisted, and he oegan spinning around with his arms outstretched. “No Power! I’m so weak I couldn’t even poke a hole in water!”
By this time, Green Spider was whirling around so wildly that people were diving out of the way of his whipping arms.
Finally, he staggered and stopped, weaving on his feet as his head continued to jerk spastically to the side. He stumbled forward dizzily, reeling and careening until he smacked into the wall of Grandmother’s house, exclaiming, “Thank the blessed Spirits! I can still walk straight!” Grandmother asked suddenly, “Why did you come here?
What do you want with Otter?”
She’d addressed her question to the Clan Elders, but Green Spider spoke as he fingered the walls, then began chipping at the tightly bundled grass with a thumbnail. “I don’t want Otter.
I hope I never see him again.” Then he wheeled, clapping his right hand over his eyes, pointing with his left at Otter and crying, “I see you!”
From where they watched along the peripheries, the rest of the clanspeople stood wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Many had pulled blankets over their heads, and mothers had grabbed up their children. Even Red Dye had snagged Tiny Turtle away.
Old Man Blood cleared his throat. “Yellow Reed, we have come to ask your permission to have your grandson, Otter, carry Green Spider to a place he has seen in his Vision. We—the four of us–believe it to be so important that we came ourselves to ask you to grant this favor.”
“We would be most honored,” Old Mflfr Sun added. “We understand that you might have other obligations that Otter needs to fulfill, but we can only stress that you would be granting us—and the clans—a great boon.”
“We will be happy to compensate you for the use of your grandson,” Old Man Sky continued. “Perhaps you have some needs that the clans could attend to? A house to be built? A field to be cleared? A soft you would like to marry to some158 Kathleen O’Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear one? We will be happy to discuss anything you would like.”
“And I would add,” Old Man North stated, “that a great deal of status will accrue to the White Shell Clan for undertaking such a journey. People will be talking about your grandson throughout the territories. One never knows the ramifications of fame. I’m sure that Otter’s reputation as a Trader would be greatly enhanced. This could be very beneficial for you and your clan.” “But why Otter?” Blue Jar demanded, finding her tongue and stepping forward. “Why did you choose my son?”