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People of the Lightning(34)

By:W. Michael Gear


“What dream?”

“Oh, I’ve had it many times, but I’ve never seen this part, so I did not know until last night that you would be at my side when the world ends.”

“When the … the world ends?” Diver asked. Cottonmouth’s voice was like mink’s fur rubbed against the soul, soft and soothing, yet throwing sparks. “What are you talking about? Is this the same Dream you had two summers ago? About the Lightning Birds—”

“I don’t know why you’re there,” Cottonmouth interrupted. “Do you? That is the curiosity. I think you must have joined me, become one of my followers, because you are wearing a tunic made here, at Standing Hollow Horn Village. It had a blue zigzag painted across the breast.” He drew it on his own tunic, and in the sky behind him gulls swooped and soared on the fitful wind.

“I would never become one of your followers, Cottonmouth.”

Cottonmouth tipped his head back and surveyed the swift-moving clouds above them. “The Dream … it begins just as today did. Blustery. Cool. We are standing over there.” He pointed to a place at the edge of the trees where an old stump tilted at an angle, toward the sea. Cottonmouth’s voice dropped to a pained murmur. “You and I … we see Hurricane Breather coming. He is ripping Sky Girl apart with his bare hands as he strides across the water. He’s huge, Diver.” Cottonmouth closed his eyes. “Rain pours down in unbroken blankets … whole trees snap and fly through the air around us … people are screaming, fleeing for their lives … then I see therm.”

Caught in the captivating spell of his deep voice, Diver asked, “Who?”

“The Lightning Birds.” Cottonmouth turned to peer due east. “They are coming for me, crackling through the clouds like blue-white flames.” He extended a hand, as though reaching out to them now.

“And then?”

Cottonmouth pulled his hand back and rested his fist on his knee. “Then … then nothing. The world dies.”

A prickle climbed Diver’s spine. He raised the awl so that he could press Musselwhite’s mark against his cheek. The bone felt smooth and warm. Cottonmouth’s handsome face had slackened, his eyes gone wider, staring, unblinking.

“The death of the world is necessary, Diver,” he said. “Evil has invaded every soul alive. Like a cancer, it has crept into the trees and animals. Even the tiny snails that crawl on the forest floor. Don’t you see? Hurricane Breather is our savior. The destruction will be a cleansing—a necessary purging.” In a slow, jerky motion, he filled his right hand with sand, and let the grains trickle through his fingers. They blew away.

Diver said, “Why do you wish to see the world die? The world is a beautiful place.”

“I do not wish it, Diver. Not at all. Evil people have brought this about. Not me. People like Musselwhite.”

Diver nuzzled the awl. “Musselwhite is not evil.”

“Isn’t she?”

“No.”

Cottonmouth smiled that humorless smile. “Perhaps I shall send old man Barnacle over to tell you the story of his family, of how both. his little children were murdered by Musselwhite in a raid. I was there, Diver. I saw what she did. Yes … Spirits Above, I did. I tried to stop her when she wanted to rob the babes of their jewelry before she—”

“Enough,” Diver said. “I don’t want to hear it! Your obsession with Musselwhite does not interest me!”

Cottonmouth did not move for a long time. Then he said, “Let us finish discussing my strange Dream. It interests me that you are there beside me at the end. Why do you think that is?”

“Perhaps I’m trying to murder you before the Lightning Birds can save you.”

The lines around Cottonmouth’s eyes deepened. “They’ll save me anyway,” he murmured. “In the Dream, I am looking frantically for Musselwhite or the Lightning Boy, but I see only you, Diver. You and I, and a village of shrieking people. I don’t—”

“Do you truly believe that the Lightning Birds will save you from the wrath of Hurricane Breather? After the things you’ve done?”

“Everything and everyone will be cleansed-including me. What I have done makes no difference,” Cottonmouth replied. “As Hurricane Breather cleanses the world, the Lightning Birds will cleanse the skies. They will burn away all the evil in the heavens and beyond. Once they have purged the clouds and birds, they will flash through the Daybreak Land, purging the Shining People.” He turned empty eyes on Diver. Dark and Powerful, like the lull just before a monstrous tidal wave strikes the beach. “Even my own followers and I. We will be cleansed, too, Diver. We must be, before we can enter the shining new world that has been prepared for us. We …”