Seedpod lifted a brow. Cleverly, he said, “Were you?”
“Oh, yes. Standing Hollow Horn Village was in an uproar after Cottonmouth returned from Pelican Isle. I was lucky to get out alive. He threatened to kill me. Did you know that?”
Moonsnail said nothing, but watched closely.
“No,” Seedpod answered. “Why did he do that?”
“I think he believed the Soul Dancers in Standing Hollow Horn—there were four of us—he believed we were responsible, though I don’t see how he could have accused us of such a heinous crime. Do you recall Snailtoes? It broke his heart. He was very young then, but already an accomplished Soul Dancer. We had spent days with that dead boy, trying to figure out what had happened. But we never did. Not completely anyway. It was truly horrifying.”
Seedpod’s face darkened. “Do you mean Glade?”
“Why, yes, of course,” Dogtooth replied irritably. “Who else would I mean?”
Moonsnail sat back. The name pricked her memories, but she couldn’t place it. Glade … a boy … in Standing Hollow Horn, who died around the time of the Pelican Isle Massacre.
“What was horrifying?” Seedpod pressed.
Dogtooth glanced about fearfully, rose to his feet, and came to sit close beside Moonsnail. If she’d had the luxury, she would have moved. Instead, she gripped her knees hard. Insanity sparkled in Dogtooth’s eyes.
The Soul Dancer whispered, “The fact that the boy had only one soul left—the soul that stays with the body forever. His other souls were gone.”
“Dear Brother Earth,” Seedpod whispered. “You mean his body had been left for more than two days? Why would—”
“No, no,” Dogtooth said softly, and craned his neck to make certain no one else could overhear their conversation. “The boy had been dead for less than a day, Seedpod. That was the horror.”
Seedpod’s eyes tightened. “But how could that be? What happened to his other souls?” Suddenly, Seedpod’s eyes flared. He braced his palm on the floor mat and leaned toward Dogtooth. “Didn’t you say one of them had been changed into lightning?”
“Oh, yes, First Mother took his reflection-in-water soul back. We knew that. But what happened to his shadow soul, Seedpod? That was the great mystery. I suppose that if Cottonmouth knew the answer to that he could kill Musselwhite the instant she sets foot in his village. Fortunately, he does not. Which gives her a chance.” Dogtooth turned to frown sympathetically at Moonsnail. “And the others, too, of course. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He reached out and patted Moonsnail’s hand gently. “Not that Musselwhite has any answers, of course, but—”
Moonsnail jerked her hand away. “Dogtooth, do you realize how infuriating—”
“Yes, I do,” Dogtooth said. “And here he comes again, so, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be going.” He briskly got to his feet, and trotted away.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
Seedpod pointed and Moonsnail turned to see Floating Stick walking out of the forest. She shook her head. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry to see Dogtooth go. Did you understand any of that? What was all that talk about missing souls?”
Seedpod frowned at the dead coals in the firepit. “I have no idea. But he did tell us a few important things.” He looked up and pinned Moonsnail’s eyes with his own. “First, apparently that storm out there is a threat. I think it might be wise if we moved inland for a few days. And, second, Musselwhite has not yet arrived at Standing Hollow Horn Village … and she should have, Moonsnail. She and Pondwader should have been there days ago.”
Moonsnail’s throat tightened with emotion. “Do you think they’re in trouble?”
He shook his head, said, “I don’t know,” and let out a gruff breath. “Dogtooth wasn’t much help, was he?”
Seedpod’s gaze narrowed to watch the Soul Dancer. Dogtooth waved to people as he crossed the village, calling greetings. A flock of children formed and ran along behind him. Dogs followed the children, nipping playfully at their heels, barking and growling. Dogtooth didn’t even seem to notice the parade he’d begun.
Floating Stick waited until certain Dogtooth had left for good, then he came back to the council shelter and seated himself beside Seedpod. Sweat dripped from the end of his hooked nose. He wiped at it, and his glance took in first Moonsnail’s expression, then Seedpod’s. Without a word, he pulled a hafted knife from his belt and handed it to Seedpod. “Here. That big artery runs right down the inside of the thigh.”