People of the Lightning(11)

“Father.” A deep breath expanded Musselwhite’s lungs. She let it out slowly. “Diver would have sent a runner to tell us they were going to be late. Something …” her voice faded. “Something went wrong.”

Seedpod looked down into his half-full cup of tea, and he could see the Shining People’s souls. He wondered which one was Thunderstorm. Probably one of the stars in that cluster, she would want people around her. She loved to talk. Seedpod took a sip of the fruity tea and handed it to Musselwhite. “If you’re going to be standing here all night, I’ll bring you dinner. Thorny Boy and I roasted catfish. We put two fish in your bowl, and set it close to the fire to keep warm. Is there anything else you want me to bring you?”

“I’m not hungry, Father, I—”

A hoarse cry made them both freeze.

Someone shouted, “Musselwhite! Musselwhite, where are you?”

All over the village, people leaped from their bedding and raced toward the forest, where a confused din of voices erupted. Musselwhite ran. As she crossed the village, people surged toward her, tunics billowing in the wind, shouting questions. Musselwhite demanded, “What is it? What’s happened?”

“In the forest!” someone answered. “Black Urchin called you! He found a wounded man—”

Musselwhite yelled, “Diver?” and Seedpod could hear the hope bursting her chest as she shoved through the crowd and vanished into the trees.

Seedpod hurried across the village as quickly as his aching legs would carry him, and took the path Musselwhite had taken. A knot of people had formed around Black Urchin and Musselwhite. They bent over someone, blocking the view of the man’s face.

“Who is it?” Seedpod asked as he shouldered through the crowd. “Is it Diver?”

“No,” Black Urchin said and straightened up. “It’s Diamondback. He’s hurt badly. I don’t know how he made it this far.” Black Urchin’s round face tensed with fear.

Musselwhite knelt beside her son, and Seedpod crouched on the opposite side, surveying the youth’s body for injuries. Crusted blood matted Diamondback’s tunic to his thigh. The dart had gone clear through, leaving a clotted hole where he’d broken off the shaft and pulled it out. Sweat-soaked black hair stuck to his forehead and the high arches of his cheeks. He blinked up at Seedpod, smiled frailly, then turned to Musselwhite, his eyes drowsy.

“Mother—”

“What happened, my son?” She tenderly smoothed wet hair away from his face. “Where are the other members of the scouting party?” she asked.

Diamondback broke into dry sobs and Seedpod said, “The questions can wait. Diamondback needs to rest and eat. Black Urchin, carry him to my shelter. I—”

“No, Grandfather, please,” Diamondback said feebly, and reached for Musselwhite; she gripped his hand tightly.

Gently, Musselwhite repeated, “Where are the other members of the scouting party?”

Diamondback swallowed and swallowed as if trying to wet a dust-dry throat. “Mother … dead. They’re all dead.” He drew her hand to his face and pressed it against his cheek. Sobs wracked his body. “Oh, Mother, it was terrible! Blue Echo was the first … darted through the heart … then Morning Glory. Father …”

Musselwhite clasped Diamondback’s hand urgently, and her mouth tightened. “Your father?”

Diamondback looked up with huge eyes. “I saw him fall, Mother. Saw the dart, in his side … then a warrior clubbed him … .”

He kept talking, but Seedpod could tell that Musselwhite no longer heard. Her gaze focused on the darkness, as if her souls had left her body and floated somewhere high above.

“Dead?” someone behind Seedpod shouted. “Diver is dead? And all the others, too? Is that what Diamondback said?”

The words seemed to pierce Musselwhite like a well-aimed dart. She closed her eyes as the news traveled from mouth to mouth, “Diver is dead … . Diver is dead … .”

Musselwhite leaned over and kissed her son on the temple, whispering, “Rest now, my son. Your grandfather is right. We—”

“Oh, Mother,” Diamondback wept, and clung desperately to her hand. “I couldn’t do anything. You must believe me. They struck so fast, none of us even had time to nock our darts.”

“Thank the Spirits that you escaped to warn us,” Musselwhite said. “We will speak more of this in the morning. You’re tired and sick. You must sleep, my son.” She waved to Black Urchin. “Help him up.”

Diamondback didn’t want to release Musselwhite. She kissed his fingers and pulled her hand away, then got to her feet.