“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly, “but her voice is still alive.” Pondwader grinned again, rose, and headed down the hill at a trot, with long white hair fluttering out behind him.
Kelp couldn’t move.
Dead voices and Dogtooth. Both terrified her. But she thought maybe Dogtooth actually terrified her more. He’d been known to change humans he didn’t like into loathsome things like sea slugs and pond slime.
On the last crescent moon, he’d wandered into their village, dressed in filthy rags, gathered up the Spirit Elders and told them he’d just returned from a long flight on the backs of the Lightning Birds. He said he’d visited the Four Shining Eagles. Then he had lowered his voice, and whispered that the Eagles were dying, that all their tail feathers had fallen out, and they struggled to fly on only one wing now. The Elders’ ancient faces had twisted in horror. Since the first moments of Pondwader’s birth people had feared the end of the world might be near. Now, they were certain.
When Pondwader noticed Kelp hadn’t followed, he stopped and cupped a hand to his mouth, calling, “Are you coming?”
“I … Pondwader … have you heard Aunt Fin’s voice since—since we buried her?”
He shook his head. “No, but Dogtooth says today is the day. He wants to show me how to talk to ghosts.”
“Well, I don’t think you should do it! He’s an old madman. And … and he doesn’t even like you!”
Pondwader sighed, and hiked back up the hill. Getting down on his knees, he stretched his tall body out on the leaves in front of her and gripped her hand. Faint glimmers of sunlight danced in his depthless eyes. “I must, Kelp, and I want you there with me.”
“What for?”
Puffs of mist glided around them, trailing long tails over the ground, and painting the palmettos with a soft sheen of moisture. Pondwader ducked his head. He pulled a pine needle out of the leaf mat. “I—I’m a little afraid, Kelp, I—”
“So don’t go!”
“But, Kelp …” His brow furrowed and he thoughtfully twirled the green needle in his fingers. “Dogtooth says Aunt Fin has been asking for me, and I loved Aunt Fin. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but why would she wish to speak with you? She was as old as the Lightning Birds. All of her friends and family died summers ago. She ought to have plenty of people to talk to in the Village of Wounded Souls. Why you, Pondwader?”
His long pale lashes cast gray crescents over his cheeks as he looked askance at Kelp. “I only know that she has asked for me. Please, come with me, Kelp. I won’t be so scared if you are there.” A lance of sunlight penetrated the trees and Pondwader quickly jerked up his hood to shield his face. The action sent thick white hair cascading over his eyes. He pushed it back and peered at her. “I need you, Kelp. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that you are part of it. Please come.”
“What do you mean I’m part of it?”
He placed the pine needle back on the leaves, exactly as he’d found it, and gently stroked it with his fingertip. Pondwader did that with everything, dogs, people, rocks. He touched them tenderly, as if in apology. Kelp had asked him about it once, and he’d replied that sometimes he sensed pain coming from things, and felt helpless and concerned. She’d told him it was stupid to sense pain from a rock, and he’d solemnly asked, “Why? Rocks grow old. Bits of them fall away. They worry about dying, too, Kelp.”
“Is something wrong, Pondwader?”
He bit his lip. “I can’t tell you, Kelp.”
“But I’m your sister!”
“Yes, but … I—I haven’t told anyone this. I’ve been too scared to.” He closed his eyes a moment, as if gathering courage.
“What is it? Tell me.”
He hesitated, then looked at her. “Promise you won’t tell.”
“You know I won’t.”
Pondwader tipped his head and sunlight splashed his face. His pink eyes glowed with an unearthly light, like a coral crab’s claws at dawn. “For about a moon, Kelp,” he began very softly. “I’ve been feeling strangely. As if something were being born inside me, like thunder waking up. A faint roaring starts in my chest and rumbles all the way out to my fingers and toes, growing louder and louder, until I—”
Kelp held up a hand and scanned the forest to make certain no one heard them. “Great Stars, Pondwader, don’t ever repeat that! Especially not to old Dogtooth. He’ll have the Spirit Elders darting you while you sleep! How long have you been feeling this?”