People of the Lightning(129)
“You are not stupid. You just don’t … don’t know any better. I wager you will not make that mistake again.”
“I promise, I won’t.” He crouched, peered sharply at their fish, and whirled to Musselwhite. Exasperated, he said, “I got dirt on our fish! I’m sorry! I didn’t even think—”
“Pondwader,” she whispered. “We’ll peel off the skin. The meat will be fine … . Do you think the tea is warm, yet? I am so thirsty … I could drink Sister Sea.”
“Forgive me. I should have brought it to you before.” He hastily rummaged in his pack, pulled out a gourd cup, and dipped it into the boiling bag. As he carried it to her, he said, “I’m not thinking very well this morning. I’m sorry.”
The weary lines around her eyes deepened. “Your souls are wrestling … with other thoughts. I can see that. Could you … would you sit down for a moment? May we speak frankly to each other?”
Pondwader set the new cup down by the empty one, then knelt and bit his lip, peering at her from beneath his pale lashes. His breathing quickened, as though he feared what she might ask him. Did she recall last night?
“Today, Pondwader … you are more than my husband. You are my best friend. And I need to … to speak with a friend.”
He jerked his head up. “Why? What’s wrong?”
A shaft of pallid sunlight penetrated the trees and outlined her beautiful taut face in gold. She squinted her eyes rather than chancing the pain movement would have caused. “Tomorrow … I must be on my feet. Headed for Standing Hollow Horn Village again. No, don’t … don’t object,” she said when his mouth fell open. “I must do this. But I will have to go slowly … letting myself heal on the way. That means we must take great care … not to draw attention to ourselves. I don’t think I will be … able to fight … for days.”
“I understand. I promise you I will be very cautious.”
Musselwhite feebly reached for his hand, and Pondwader took her fingers gently. She murmured, “I know … you will. But … regardless … the journey will not be easy. Once Cottonmouth … discovers … what happened at Windy Cove, there may be war parties … out combing the forests for us.”
“Why? Why would they?”
“He knows I am on my way. And he—”
“How could he know that?”
She squeezed Pondwader’s hand. The look on her face made him afraid to breathe. She stared straight ahead, her face blank with a kind of shock, or perhaps just uncanny certainty. When she returned her gaze to Pondwader again, she frowned.
“Everything he’s done, from the attack … on my raiding party … to capturing Diver … sending a messenger to tell me he was alive … then attacking Windy Cove. Everything, Pondwader, has been designed to force me to come to him.”
Fear slackened Pondwader’s face. “Why?”
She shook her head faintly. “He needs me. I do not know why. But I know how he thinks. He must need me very badly … or he would not have gone to all this trouble.”
Musselwhite’s eyes filled with a strange luminosity, and Pondwader’s souls shriveled. Bravely, he asked. “Do you want to go to him?”
“There is nothing in the world I want less, Pondwader.”
“But I do not understand, my wife. You said you never stopped loving him. And if he needs you—”
“Pondwader,” she said through a shaky exhalation, “there are many more things in the world than love and need.”
Pondwader lowered himself to sit down cross-legged beside her. As he always did when he wanted to try and say exactly what he meant, Pondwader spoke softly. “I would very much like to know about those things. I think I need to understand more about the world … about Cottonmouth.”
The slanting light moved, and gray shadows once again covered her face. She sighed, and her whole body shook when she forced herself to roll to her side and reach for her gourd cup of tea. The liquid sloshed as she lifted it to her lips.
“Oh, let me help you!” Pondwader said and lunged for her cup.
“No.” She shook her head. “I must do this … myself. But thank you.”
Her hand shook so badly that tea ran down her chin and splashed on her blanket, but she managed to empty the cup. Slowly, she eased back to her bedding, and set the cup aside. She closed her eyes, and grimaced, as if waiting for the sickness to pass.
Pondwader watched her intently. “What else is there, other than love and need? Which emotion is the most …” He thought about it. “Powerful?”