“No,” Diamondback agreed. “Not better than our father. But you know what?”
“What?”
Diamondback leaned sideways and whispered, “If the Lightning Boy even thought about hurting Father, I bet Mother would dart the Lightning Boy before we even had a chance to kill him in his sleep.”
Thorny Boy grinned. “Yes, she would, wouldn’t she?”
“I expect so. I even …” He saw old Dreamstone suddenly stand up in her shelter at the far edge of the village. Long white hair fluttered around her bony shoulders as she stepped forward to peer out into the forest, as though she had spotted movement, then stumbled backward, lifting one arm as if to point … .
The dart came out her back.
Stunned, Diamondback watched her crumple to the sand as silently as a brittle autumn leaf.
Her daughter leaped up and ran toward Dreamstone. Her hoarse scream split the dusk, growing louder until the very fabric of twilight quaked with its terror. “Warriors!” she shouted. “Warriors!”
An instant later war cries drowned her screams, riding the breeze like soaring falcons. Hideously painted warriors burst from the trees with their atlatls raised. How many … ? Two tens? Three tens?
Black Urchin was on his feet in an instant, his atlatl in his hand. “Run!” he screamed. “Hurry! Into the forest! We can’t fight this many!” Ragged Wing and Shoal leaped up and ran forward with their atlatls poised to defend the village. “Go! Now!”
Stunned people grabbed for their children, shrieking and shouting, and scattered in every direction. The amber halos of the cooking fires threw their shadows over the sand like swaying black giants. There were so many enemy warriors! They raced through the village, casting darts, swinging war-clubs, using their stilettos on women, children, and men alike. Bodies sprawled across the sand.
Diamondback dove for Thorny Boy, clamped a hand over his little brother’s mouth, and shoved him into the pile of blankets which had been supporting his back. “Don’t move!” he ordered. “Stay there until I’ve drawn their attention, then run for the trees and hide! Don’t try to outrun them. Understand? Hide yourself until they’ve gone. Then head south. Mother is down there somewhere! Do you understand me?”
Thorny Boy cried, “Yes!”
Diamondback grabbed his atlatl and four darts and managed to get his injured leg beneath him, then he limped away from the shelter, and out into the crowd of running, shrieking people.
Old Ashleaf hunched in the middle of the village, a dart protruding from his stomach, one hand braced on the ground, the other raised pleadingly. “Stop this! I beg you. Don’t kill us! What do you want? We will give you whatever we have! Don’t kill us!”
A big, burly warrior lifted his warclub over Ashleaf, and Diamondback yipped a war cry, nocked his own atlatl, and drove the dart all the way through the warrior’s chest. The man toppled backward, and as Diamondback nocked another dart, he saw Thorny Boy throw off his blankets, leap up, and run with all his might, racing away through the palmettos into the wavering firelit shadows of the forest.
Two warriors spotted the boy, pointed, and one charged in pursuit. An incoherent cry broke Diamondback’s lips as he spun, and cast his dart in one smooth motion. The dart caught the warrior in the lower back, and he flopped forward. The force of the impact drove the dart part way out of his back again.
The other warrior swung around to face Diamondback. He shrieked a war cry and, lifting his warclub, dashed forward. Diamondback recognized this man … he had been in the war party that had attacked their camp the night Blue Echo and Morning Glory died!
Diamondback had just managed to nock his last dart and began drawing back his atlatl when the whistling warclub struck his arm and sent his atlatl tumbling across the sand. Diamondback lunged for it, and the warrior kicked it out of the way. He stood over Diamondback laughing, his heavy chert-studded warclub gripped in both hands.
“I remember you,” the man shouted. “This time you die, filth!”
Diamondback rolled and threw up his arms to block the blow … .
A hiss sounded. Followed by a meaty splat!
The warrior grunted, stumbled, and peered down at the dart that protruded from just below his left nipple. Blood coursed down his muscular belly. As the man sank to his knees, Diamondback’s mother exploded from the forest, her atlatl in her hand, her black eyes gleaming. When she threw back her head and let out her bloodcurdling war cry, Diamondback’s heart almost stopped. Every enemy in camp froze. Clubs and stilettos hovered over intended victims. They didn’t expect my mother to be here … .