“Perhaps, Diver, but if so, it wasn’t the Lightning Birds who killed them. It was Musselwhite.” He examined Diver’s torn and bloody tunic. “Did she tell you that she murdered my son before my eyes?”
Diver could not hide his shock. His face slackened before he could restrain the muscles. “W-why would she do that?”
The crowsfeet around Cottonmouth’s eyes deepened. “Strange,” he said softly. “I had imagined she would boast of that. Of how she brought the great Cottonmouth to his knees. And she does not? I’m surprised.”
Musselwhite could no more kill one of her own sons than she could fly to Sister Moon. But … Diver had heard rumors that she’d borne a son to Cottonmouth, and on occasion he had wondered what had become of the boy.
“Did you never ask her about me?” Cottonmouth inquired.
Diver’s legs shook severely now. Soon, he would have to shift his weight to his arms again, and the thought made him despair.
Cottonmouth’s voice filled the silence like the distant roar of a waterfall, deep, silken. “I loved her very much. When she left me, I wanted to kill her—or kill myself.” Then he smiled and quietly added, “You see that I managed neither.”
Diver said nothing.
“Do you know why she left me?” Cottonmouth asked.
“I don’t care why she left you.”
“You really don’t know?” Apparently he read the answer in Diver’s eyes. “She has told you very little about herself.”
The mats rasped as Cottonmouth walked to lean his shoulder against the southeastern post. He stood with his arms folded, watching the silver-edged clouds that drifted on the horizon. The flowery fragrance of his insect grease filled the shelter.
“I should start at the beginning, then,” Cottonmouth said, “on the day she betrayed me.”
Diver’s jaw tightened.
Cottonmouth didn’t deign to look at him, but he smiled sadly. “You trust her completely, don’t you? So did I. I told her everything. On the eve of the most important war walk of my young life, I shared my plans with her. She was so good with war tactics, I—I wanted her opinion. Would this work? Should I station these warriors somewhere else?” His mouth pursed bitterly. “She told my enemies. Oh, yes, she did. She told them every detail of my plans. Of course, I lost.”
“Was that the Pelican Isle Massacre? If I recall correctly, those were Musselwhite’s own people you wanted to kill. No wonder—”
“No, no, Diver,” he said as if objecting to another cup of tea, rather than an accusation of murder. “This was summers before Pelican Isle. Musselwhite was pregnant with my son at the time. I forgave her, naturally. She made up some excuse, and I wanted to believe her so desperately … I did.”
Moonlight shining off the ocean outlined every muscle in Cottonmouth’s slender body as he drew a deep breath, then let it out. “But you are correct,” he continued. “Pelican Isle was the last time I saw her.” His voice grew tight. “Just before the battle, she murdered my son, then she fled. Had I been able to get to her at Pelican Isle, I promise you I would have killed her then.”
Diver silently thanked all the Spirits on earth that Musselwhite had escaped. “How long had you known her?”
“We became acquainted when she was ten-and-one summers, but we did not start loving each other until she was ten and three summers. We shared the same lodge for only three.”
And Diver had loved her for two-tens-and-five. He had memorized every fold in her souls, and the cruelty that Cottonmouth described did not exist. If Musselwhite had betrayed the man she loved, she had been so desperate she could think of no other way out. Diver had seen her desperate … maybe even desperate enough to betray him if he’d tried to force her to carry out a course of action she found abhorrent, but he had never seen her desperate enough to murder one of her own sons.
“I must draw her into my trap, Diver,” Cottonmouth murmured. “The Lightning Birds are coming for me soon. I must see Musselwhite first, or I will never see the shining new world my Dreams have promised.”
“Why? What does she have to do with the Lightning Birds?”
Cottonmouth extended one hand, palm up, and held it motionless a long moment, then he closed his fingers. “She holds a Lightning Boy in the palm of her hand. He will free me. But only if Musselwhite tells him to.”
Confused, Diver could only respond, “You’ll never trap her.”
Cottonmouth used his fist to gesture to Diver. “But I have the perfect bait.”
“You’re a fool! Do you think she would risk bringing a war party into this heavily guarded village just to rescue me? Never!”