People of the Lightning(135)

“Anyway,” Seedpod said to Tailfeather, who listened intently. “I killed one of the men attacking my daughter, but then Pondwader, Pondwader, rose from his hiding place, spread his arms, and walked out into the midst of the battle!”

Tailfeather’s mouth gaped. “Pondwader? Is this the same White Lightning Boy I know? The one who is afraid of his own souls smiling up at him from a conchshell mirror?”

Kelp scowled and she saw Diamondback bow his head to smother a smile. Dace glanced back and forth between them. His brow furrowed.

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Seedpod continued. White hair flipped around his cheeks, teased by the sea breeze. “And when Pondwader walked out, I tell you, Cottonmouth’s warriors screamed and ran like a pack of spooked coyotes. Truly, I would never have imagined Pondwader could do such a brave thing. He—”

“Pondwader is very courageous,” Kelp said softly. “People just don’t know it because he is also very gentle. Isn’t that right, Dace?”

Dace nodded. “Absolutely.”

Seedpod reached out and patted Kelp’s hair. “I did not mean to sound as if I were dishonoring your brother. Pondwader saved the lives of many people that day, Kelp. All of Windy Cove Clan is grateful for Pondwader’s bravery.” He smiled at Tailfeather. “Anyway, after Cottonmouth’s warriors fled, Musselwhite chased them into the forest, and I went around …”

Kelp peered at Diamondback. He kept glancing at her. One instant he looked frightened, and the next he seemed to be admiring her. He seemed almost as worried about his interest as she was. She guessed his age at ten-and-six or ten-and-seven summers. Old enough to be married. Was he?

Dace leaned over to whisper, “Now that I know Pondwader is safe, I’m going to go set up camp and cook supper. I’m starved. Do you want to come?”

She whispered back, “I’ll be along soon.”

Dace shifted. He cupped a hand to her ear to ask, “Will you be all right?” then he subtly jerked his head toward Diamondback.

Surprised, she lifted her brows, silently questioning what in the world he meant.

Dace shrugged, but he still looked concerned. Politely, he rose and bowed to Seedpod, then Tailfeather, neither of whom seemed to notice he’d risen at all. Seedpod continued with his lively story about surveying the damage after the battle, and Tailfeather kept adding wood to the fire. Dace strode away across the sand, his broad back swaying. He turned once, walked backward a short distance, looking at Kelp, then shook his head and broke into a trot toward the warriors gathered near the trees. She saw his black silhouette blend into those standing around the fire.

“Kelp?” Seedpod halted his story. “We are almost out of wood. Would you mind—”

“Oh, no, of course not!”

She rose to her feet, and Diamondback got up. “I’ll help you, Kelp.”

“All right.”

They walked out across the moist sand at the edge of the surf, and Kelp noticed that he kept sneaking glances at her. Two hands taller than she, with long legs, he matched his stride to hers. When he gazed out at the waves rolling across Sea Girl’s face, the starglow accentuated the lines of his handsome face and gleamed from the muscles in his bare chest. The sight affected Kelp strangely, making her heart pound.

She bent, tossed a big shell out of the way, and picked up a piece of driftwood. “Diamondback? Why don’t I collect the wood, and hand it to you? That way you won’t have to bend down so much.”

“Oh, I can bend down, Kelp. Really, I—”

“You are hurt. I can see that. Besides, you can carry more than I can anyway. This way, we will be sharing the work.”

He nodded, smiled obligingly, and said, “All right.”

Kelp smiled back, but it almost scared her to death to do it. She handed him the wood. He took it and put it in the crook of his arm. As they wandered down the beach, Kelp asked, “How were you wounded? Was it a dart or—”

“Yes, a dart,” he answered, and the curve of his mouth tightened. He lowered his gaze and watched his feet as they walked. “Though my leg is almost healed. It’s just stiff.”

“It must have been scary.” As she bent and handed him another piece of wood, he nodded.

“It was, yes. Very scary. But I was not wounded at the Windy Cove battle, Kelp. I was wounded ten days before that, while out with my father’s scouting party. It happened north of Windy Cove.”

Their gazes met and held. Blessed Sun Mother, he had eyes with a pull like the ocean, powerful, constant. A deep ache shone in those dark depths.

“Cottonmouth’s warriors?” she asked.