The passing hands of time had not diminished his fear. It had become a constant, like his heartbeat, the one thing he could depend upon. Not once in his life had he gone off alone like this. Just knowing that enemy warriors might be lurking in the black blur of trees to his left kept him so anxious, he could barely think straight.
“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured to himself. “I must find her. She needs me.”
He’d left Windy Cove Village so quickly that he had not thought to grab a weapon, and the sensation of impending doom weighed him down more with every step, like a tree trunk across his chest. Not even a stiletto hung from his belt, let alone an atlatl or warclub. What a fool he was! If Kelp saw him now, she would threaten to kill him for his stupidity. She had been his guide through the blurry world, and his best friend. He prayed he would live to see her again.
Pondwader broke into a trot again, his sandals leaving a trail of indentations on the darkening beach. The air felt crisp on his flushed cheeks and smelled of seaweed and shellfish. Mole crabs tumbled up the beach with the incoming waves, forcing him to leap over them. He inhaled deeply and let the scents cleanse his souls.
The baby Lightning Bird had been strangely quiet for the past few hands of time, as though resting, or perhaps it merely perched patiently on his heart, waiting its chance to crackle through his ribs and soar into the heavens. It had not even rumbled since just after he’d left Windy Cove.
But the Bird knew, just as Pondwader did, that they had finally taken destiny into their own hands. The right path lay before them. They had but to follow it, and do as the ghosts had said.
Still, Pondwader could not help wondering … about his death. How long did he have? Days? A moon? He let his gaze drop to his chest. Sweat stained the front of his robe. “Do you know, baby Bird … ? When will you leave your nest in my heart? Soon?”
Not even a faint rumble answered him.
The Lightning Bird had gone deathly silent.
Pondwader’s thoughts wandered as he ran. Maybe the Bird was not even in there. Had it gone soul flying again? To see old Dogtooth?
Ahead, the eastward curve of the beach formed a small cove surrounded by pines and palms. The dark, shiny, green palm fronds sheltered heavy clusters of berries which drooped down to within his reach. He could not imagine a better place to camp. His long robe billowed around his legs as he sprinted forward, and entered the trees breathing hard.
He reached up and plucked a hanging cluster of berries. Pine cones littered the needle-covered ground. If the squirrels had not gotten to them before him, he might find pine nuts to go along with the rest of his supper.
Removing his pack, Pondwader knelt beneath the waving boughs, laid his berries aside, and untied his blanket. He spread it out over the ground and sank tiredly atop the blue and black geometric designs. His whole body ached. Wind soughed through the forest around him, whispering and whimpering. As he extended his legs, he winced. Dogtooth had been right. Because he was a Lightning Boy he had been petted and protected, never allowed to risk himself. No warrior would be suffering as he was from a single day’s run up the beach. Warriors conditioned their muscles so they could run for days if necessary. It shamed Pondwader that he hadn’t more strength. Especially now, when he needed it so badly.
He sat down and opened his pack. How good it felt to be off his feet. His arches ached. Drawing out his gourd of fresh water and a bag of smoked fish, he set them beside the palm berries, then reached out and took one of the pine cones that made a lump under the corner of his blanket. Every nut had been eaten. Pondwader tossed the cone into the shadows.
“Just my luck. The fish and berries will have to do, since I haven’t the energy to get up and hunt for anything else.”
He took a bite of the fish and followed it up with several palm berries. The combination of smoky and sweet flavors tasted so good he sighed with contentment and rolled to his back to stare up at the swaying branches over his head. Through the splotches of pine needles he could see the first Shining People emerging like blazing fires across the night sky. Their different colored tunics shimmered brilliantly. He had told Kelp once how striking the reds looked against the pale blues, and she had frowned at him, and said she could see the colors if she really looked hard, but they weren’t nearly as obvious to her as to him. Perhaps his poor vision magnified the shades. Whatever the reason, each of the Shining People looked distinctly unique to him. Near the pointed top of the pine, a golden Shining Person sparkled next to a pure silver one. A delighted smile curled his lips. Poor vision had some rewards.
He ate more fish and berries, stuffing himself until he felt sleepy, then rolled up in his blanket, facing Sea Girl, and watched the starlight flood the water. Wind whipped hair around his eyes. Pondwader yawned and before he realized it, slumber had overtaken him.