“Death?” Seedpod blurted. “What are you talking about? Look at him! He’s sitting there looking very healthy—for Pondwader.”
Dogtooth loudly whispered, “You mean you haven’t told your wife and father-in-law about what happened to you at the Sacred Pond? You could have at least repeated what the ghosts said about her. She …”
Musselwhite gruffly rose to her feet. “Please excuse me. If we rise early tomorrow we might be able to make it back to Windy Cove by sundown. Good night.” She grabbed up her pack and walked into the forest, where she untied her blanket from the pack’s straps and threw it out across the ground. Close enough to watch the campfire, but far enough away to dart someone if necessary.
Seedpod squelched his smile. “The idea of ghosts has always disturbed her. She—”
“That’s true,” Pondwader said and nodded vigorously. “When I told her I could talk to ghosts, she almost fainted.”
“Fainted?” Seedpod scoffed with a chuckle. “More likely she was contemplating murdering you.”
“Th-thank you for telling me.”
“You’re welcome. And now,” he added, “I think I’ll join my daughter. But it’s been truly interesting seeing you again, Dogtooth. I will leave you to speak with Pondwader, as you’d planned. Good night.”
“Good night, Seedpod,” Dogtooth said with real cordiality. “Sleep well. We will be safe here tonight. I have seen it in a Dream.”
“You won’t take offense if I sleep with my stiletto anyway, will you?”
“Not a bit.”
Seedpod nodded politely, picked up his pack, and headed into the forest near Musselwhite.
Pondwader could hear them murmuring to each other, then Seedpod laughed softly, and Pondwader saw him throw out his blanket. Pondwader looked down at his goose leg and took another half-hearted bite. Despite the sweetness of the meat, his appetite had vanished.
“All right, Dogtooth,” he said feebly, and threw the rest of the leg out into the forest for scavenging animals to find. “Tell me.”
Dogtooth swiveled around on his blanket and whispered, “Don’t sound so worried. You can talk to me.” His faded old eyes had an eerie glow.
“About what?”
Dogtooth reached out with lightning quickness and seized Pondwader’s right wrist in a death grip. Pondwader let out a small yip of surprise, and Dogtooth asked, “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?”
“No.” Pondwader jerked his arm away irritably. “What do you mean?”
Dogtooth leaned closer and his disconcerting brown eyes flared. To the left of his firelit face, Pondwader saw a black blur move out in the forest—and watched as Musselwhite sat up in her blanket and drew it about her shoulders … he knew it was she because he’d memorized all the surrounding blurs of trees so he could find his way to her later. After the long hard day they’d had, she should be sleeping. What was she doing? Keeping watch over him? Yes, she must be. It would be just like her. A loving smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Dogtooth said, “You love her very much, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. She means everything to me.” And she did. He would do anything for her.
The breeze penetrated this clearing capriciously, sometimes assaulting the fire, other times leaving the flames to stretch long fingers toward the sheltering oak boughs. Pondwader focused on them, hoping their dance would ease his discomfort.
“That’s good,” Dogtooth said. “Because she is extremely unhappy and it will require all of your love to help her through it.”
“I know.” Pondwader shoved back his hood, relieved at the new topic, and let out the breath he’d unwittingly been holding. Feathers of white hair danced around his face. “I’ve been trying so hard to make her feel better, Dogtooth, but she—she so often seems beyond my reach.”
“Of course, she does. Because she is.”
“But I am her husband, Dogtooth. She needs me. I must gain enough of her trust that she will let me reach her.”
“That will be very difficult, Pondwader.”
“I know. But I must. I just don’t know a quick way to gain her trust. Is there one? I want so much—”
“Oh, I shouldn’t think so,” Dogtooth replied. “No, those barriers were erected long ago, and have stood the test of time. I doubt that even Diver could penetrate them.”
Pondwader squinted at the mosquitoes swaying and dipping in the firelight. If Diver couldn’t penetrate them, then what hope did Pondwader have? “Why would she find it necessary to have such shield?”