People of the Lightning(17)

Pondwader’s sandals sank into the red-brown mud as he knelt beside Dogtooth. A smile came to his face when he looked into the Pond. “Hello, Aunt,” he said tenderly. “I have missed you.”

Dogtooth lifted his stake and aimed it at Pondwader’s heart. Softly, he asked, “Can you hear them?”

“Yes,” Pondwader answered with a frown, “but I can’t understand them. It’s as though they are very far away.”

Dogtooth leaned forward and sunlight flashed across his black face. “That’s odd,” he said.

“What is?” Pondwader reluctantly sat down in the mud and grimaced when it oozed up around his hips.

“Hmm?” Dogtooth inquired.

Pondwader’s pale eyebrows drew together over his pointed nose. “You said that it was odd that the voices sounded far away to me.”

Dogtooth blinked. “Well, of course, it’s odd,” he answered indignantly. “Since the speakers are only four hand’s breadth from your right kneecap.”

Pondwader squinted at the old man for a moment, then nodded and smiled. “I see. Well, what was it you wished to teach me?”

Kelp scowled out across the forest. As shafts of sunlight penetrated the fog and warmed the ground, filaments of mist curled up, twining through the vines and nesting in the oak branches.

In a low hoarse voice, Dogtooth said, “Pondwader, do you know that humans have a braided soul?

“Yes, Grandfather. While living, the souls are spun tightly together, like the fine threads of our tunics, but at death, they separate.”

“Good. Tell me where the three strands of your soul live?”

Pondwader answered, “One lives in my shadow, and … and that one is female … as Kelp’s shadow-soul is male. Another soul lives in the image of my face reflected from water, and one lives in the pupils of my eyes.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Dogtooth said.

Kelp’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know that! How did Pondwader? Was this part of the secret knowledge passed on when a boy or girl came to adulthood? Which she had yet to. If so, would something terrible happen to a girl for hearing it? “Dogtooth,” she said. “Should I … I mean, is it all right for me to listen to these things?”

“Of course not,” he said ominously. “But you are here, and so are your ears.” He turned back to Pondwader, leaving Kelp frowning. “Do you also know, Pondwader, that one of those souls, the one which resides in the pupils of the eyes, never leaves the body?”

A gust of wind flattened Pondwader’s robe across his chest and fluttered long white hair around his pale face. He brushed it out of the way. “No, Grandfather. I did not.”

“Yes, that soul clings to the bones forever. That’s why if you listen to the Pond, you can hear souls talking and laughing, and sometimes weeping.”

“I hear them, Grandfather.” Pondwader’s gaze drifted over the faces beneath the water. “But I can’t understand them. I just know they are glad to see me.”

“Of course,” Dogtooth said and whispered, “They are glad because they know you will be joining them soon.”

Pondwader shifted uneasily. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

Dogtooth pressed the stake into Pondwader’s chest, dimpling the pale green fabric. “When the last Eagle falls, Hurricane Breather will be unleashed. You know that. Everyone will die.”

Pondwader nodded. “Yes, I know that, but you think it’s going to happen soon?”

“Very soon.”

Pondwader clearly did not know what to say. He glanced to Kelp for help and she just shook her head in disgust, giving her brother that I told you the old man was a lunatic look.

Dogtooth turned to point at the Pond and his antlers slid down over his right ear. Grumbling, he straightened them, and narrowed his eyes at Pondwader. “Do you deny that you are a Lightning Boy?”

“I don’t know, Dogtooth,” Pondwader answered. “I don’t wish to be, but—”

“You are a Lightning Boy. I have seen it.” Dogtooth grunted as he rose to his feet to loom over Pondwader. “You just don’t know it yet. That is why I asked you here today.”

“But, Dogtooth,” Pondwader said. “Even if I am a Lightning Boy, that does not mean I will be the Lightning Boy, the one who shoots down the Eagles. I’m not very good with an atlatl. Maybe another is to come after me who—”

“It’s time.” Dogtooth bent over and propped his palms on his painted knees. “The ghosts are calling your name. Do you hear them? They have many things to discuss with you.”