People of the Lightning(187)

Dace sat back. Where is Musselwhite? She should be here. If she isn’t … she …

Dace closed his eyes for a brief painful moment. Dead? He ached for his friend.

Wasp and the other warrior emptied Pondwader’s packs onto the grass, and sorted through the contents. Pondwader tipped his chin, focused on the night sky, as if praying to Sister Moon.

The skinny Woodduck cursed and straightened up. Furiously, he kicked the contents of the packs, sending bags of food, wooden bowls, water gourds, sailing across the clearing to tumble through the grass.

Woodduck crouched before Pondwader and said, “Come along, Lighting Boy. Your death awaits you. We are only its messengers.”

He gripped Pondwader’s arm and jerked him to his feet. Out of sheer cruelty, he twisted the arm, brutally shoving it up behind Pondwader’s back. Pondwader stood still and white.

“Trying to be brave boy?” Woodduck asked. “We shall see how long that lasts under Cottonmouth’s torture. He has very persuasive techniques … .”

A hiss was followed by the crack of breaking bone, and Woodduck shrieked and staggered. His wide eyes looked disbelievingly at the bloody dart embedded in his ribs. A horrified wail erupted from his mouth. He took three running steps before toppling.

The other warriors scattered, bounding for cover. Wasp yipped when a dart sliced through his chest. He stumbled sideways, fell, and clawed weakly at the grass.

Dace burst from his hiding place and used all the strength in his young body to cast his dart at the warrior named Gullwing. The dart caught the man in the side, piercing deeply into him. Blood gushed from the wound and coursed down his naked back in gruesome streams. The man sank to his knees and hunched forward, but Dace knew he had not killed his enemy. He pulled his stiletto from his belt. He would have to plunge it into the man’s heart now. He had no choice. His knees shook as he ran. Kill him while he looks me in the eyes? Oh, Brother Sky, let me do this quickly, so it will be over!

A war cry split the air. Dace whirled to see Cloudfish leap a fallen log and burst from the trees, his stiletto lifted. Hatred filled his burning eyes. Dace stumbled, stunned at the man’s closeness.

“Dace! Get down!” Diamondback screamed.

He threw himself to the ground, and Diamondback’s dart sailed right over his head, skewering Cloudfish, slicing his throat. Cloudfish sprawled only hands away from Dace, choking on his own blood. He gripped the dart, holding onto it as he stared Dace in the eyes. It seemed to take an eternity for the man to suffocate. His garbled cries sickened Dace.

Diamondback stepped from the trees, his atlatl nocked and held high, ready for anything. “Come on,” he said. “Kelp and Pondwader need us.”

“But—but I have to finish killing Gullwing. I only hit him—”

“He’s dead, Dace. He bled to death. Let’s go.”

Dace rolled to his knees. Diamondback grabbed his hand to help him up, but it still took every bit of strength Dace could muster to get to his feet again. When he had braced his shaking legs, Dace looked out into the middle of the moonlit meadow.

Kelp knelt, hugging her brother. She had untied his hands for Pondwader held her in a crushing embrace. His soft sobs carried on the grass-scented wind.





Forty-two

“I waited for one hand of time,” Pondwader said in an agonized voice. His swollen, red-rimmed eyes peered unblinking into the low dancing flames. “Then I went after her.”

A patchy blanket of mist spread around their camp, stroking the air with ethereal fingers, chilling them to the bone. In the moonlight that penetrated the dark branches, the fog slithered around the trunks of the oaks, glittering as though alive, listening, watching, waiting for the opportunity to strike them down. The fire spat and sparked, defending itself against this gossamer assailant.

“Go on,” Kelp urged.

As Pondwader’s wet white hair dried in the fire’s warmth, it began to fluff around his shoulders. “I-I crawled up the shore line—underwater, then I used a turtle-shell mask to shield my face. I never saw her. But … she must have been captured. I just don’t understand why she lied to me! If she had told me—”

“If she had told you, you would have insisted upon going with her.” Diamondback sat across the fire from Pondwader, his brow furrowed. “She did not wish you to go, Pondwader. When the situation looks very bad, she will risk only her own life. It’s her way.” He heaved a breath. “Though, I admit, I myself have often found it irritating.”

Pondwader drew up his knees and wrapped his long arms around them.

Kelp surveyed them both. Diamondback wore a plain tunic, belted at the waist with a braided rawhide cord. She had forced Pondwader to put on his long robe, though he’d insisted he didn’t need to. But he’d spent so much time in the cold water his flesh had felt like ice.