Musselwhite leaped, ripped the dart from Pondwader’s hand … .
Cottonmouth reacted instantly. He threw himself at her, grabbing her around the waist, knocking her to the ground. A growl like a raging cougar’s came from her lips. Kicking and shouting at each other, they rolled over the sand.
“Now!” Diver shouted, and ran, the young warriors behind him.
Cottonmouth thrust the deerbone awl against Musselwhite’s throat—and she went still.
“No!” Pondwader shouted. He shoved the turtle bone doll down the front of his robe, grabbed the dart, and dashed for Cottonmouth.
“Stay back!” Cottonmouth ordered. “I’ll kill her! Cast the dart, boy. Do it … ! Diver, don’t!”
Diver stopped, his legs shaking, too far away to be of any help to her.
“Pondwader!” Musselwhite said. “Do as Cottonmouth says! Cast the dart!”
As Pondwader fussed with the dart and atlatl, Cottonmouth leaned his forehead against Musselwhite’s, like a lover letting himself drown in the silken texture of her skin.
“I told you!” Cottonmouth shouted over the wind. “I can’t leave you. Not again. When I go to the shining new world, I’ll carry your souls with me. Inside me, Musselwhite.”
Musselwhite’s dark eyes went huge in sudden understanding. She wrenched violently in Cottonmouth’s arms. Pondwader took the chance, whirled, lunged for Cottonmouth.
“Pondwader! No!” Kelp shouted.
With practiced ease, Cottonmouth slapped the dart from Pondwader’s hand, and tried to plunge the awl into Musselwhite’s heart. She caught his arm, her face twisted as they wrestled.
Diver ran forward.
Pondwader screamed, “Stop! Stop it!” and dove, reaching for Cottonmouth with his bare hands. His shoulder struck Cottonmouth’s, and knocked him off Musselwhite. Pondwader landed on top of him, fighting for the awl.
Cottonmouth saw Musselwhite getting to her feet, and quickly plunged the awl into Pondwader’s chest, tearing through the fabric of his tunic, driving it into a hollow between the ribs. He threw the boy away to dive for Musselwhite.
She’d recovered enough to meet Cottonmouth halfway, and slammed him with both fists. He stumbled backward, and she hit him again.
“Musselwhite, get back!” Diver shouted as he grabbed Cottonmouth around the throat, and drove Glasswort’s stiletto into the man’s stomach. Cottonmouth arched forward under the impact, screaming hoarsely, “No! No! Where are the Lightning Birds … ? Where are they?”
Diver pulled the stiletto out, and plunged it into Cottonmouth’s lungs, then he released the man and let him fall to the ground. The Dreamer curled on his side, his eyes wide with disbelief and pain. He peered unblinking at the wounded Lightning Boy a few body lengths away.
Diver gripped Musselwhite’s arm and shouted, “Come on! We have to get out of here. Now!”
“No!” she screamed. Hair whipped around her face as she turned. “Pondwader! I have to get to Pondwader!”
Diamondback, Kelp, and Dace knelt around the Lightning Boy. Kelp was crying, “Pondwader? Pondwader, talk to me!”
Musselwhite shoved between them, dropped by his side, and examined Pondwader’s blood-soaked robe. The turtle bone doll’s head stuck out above his collar, framed by a white halo of wet hair, as if she were watching, wondering. Musselwhite said, “Pondwader, I’m here. I’m going to carry you. Hold onto me if you can.”
“No,” he murmured thickly. His open mouth trembled. “No, Musselwhite. The … baby Lightning Bird. He—he’s coming.”
“Let him! I’m going to lift you, Pondwader! We have to get out of here!” Musselwhite slipped one arm beneath his knees and another under his shoulders … .
Pondwader’s body convulsed in her arms like a clubbed rabbit’s. A sharp incoherent cry was torn from his lips as lightning crackled right over their heads, the thunder so loud it deafened.
Musselwhite screamed and fell back.
In the ominous silence that followed, Diver heard a voice—like a whisper from the grave. At first, he thought it was Pondwader, but the Lightning Boy’s mouth did not move.
A beautiful voice said, “Dance with us, Lightning Boy. Come and Dance. You have only to reach out your hand. Come on, Eyeless Boy. It’s not so hard … .”
Pondwader lifted his shaking hand. “I … I can’t … reach you.”
“Pondwader?” Musselwhite said. “What is it? What’s happening?” Frantic, she grasped the awl, tugged it free, and flung it away. “Pondwader, I’m going to—”
“No,” he whispered. “No, my wife. Please … I have to … go.”