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People of the Masks(130)

By:W. Michael Gear


Had there been war? An attack on Walksalong?

Another wave of pain struck him, and Blue Raven hunched into a ball, his eyes clamped tightly shut, and his teeth gritted so hard his head shook. He had to stay quiet for as long as he could. Any sounds of anguish would affect Wren like knives plunged into her heart.

He prayed she would hold to the story he’d told Elk Ivory. If she did, she might actually make it out of this alive.

Jumping Badger lowered his voice and whispered hoarsely to Elk Ivory. It sounded like a threat.

She leaned toward him, her eyes like daggers. “I will fight you any day. Name the moment!”

Acorn put his hands out to separate them, pleading, “Enough! We should not be at each other’s throats! We still have duties to our clan! We must find the False Face Child!”

Elk Ivory threw off Acorn’s hand, and tramped away, toward Blue Raven.

Jumping Badger strode toward the murdered babies that scattered the ground on the north side of the plaza.

Elk Ivory knelt beside Blue Raven, her jaw working.

Blue Raven said, “Tell me what happened. At home.”

Elk Ivory removed her buffalo coat and spread it over him, then took off her pack and water bag. “Springwater caught us this afternoon. He said there has been a storm. The longhouses collapsed. Many people were killed.” She shook her head. “That is all we know. Your mother—”

“Yes. I—I heard.”

Elk Ivory unlaced her pack and pulled out a red and blue strip of cloth that she often wore as a headband. She soaked it with water from her water bag, and mopped Blue Raven’s forehead.

The coolness felt like a gift from the Earth Spirits. His shoulder muscles eased. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Emotion turned her voice thick. “I came looking for you to prevent this. I did a poor job.”

“I should have guessed my cousin would wish me dead.”

“You did not help matters,” she said and gently washed the rest of his face and throat, “when you claimed guilt for something you didn’t do.”

Blue Raven lifted his tied bloody hands and gripped her wrist tightly. When she looked down at him, he whispered, “I had to save Wren. Please. Let me … let me do that.”

Elk Ivory put her cloth aside and took his hands in both of hers. She heaved a deep breath. “I will do everything in my power to make certain she receives no blame in this affair. But I do it for you, Blue Raven. Not for her. She—”

“Is young.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Remember how righteous you were at twelve winters? I do.”

A bare smile touched her mouth. “Yes, I’m sure you do. And perhaps you are right. Once my anger and frustration fade, I may feel differently.”

He squeezed her hand with as much strength as he could muster, then another fiery torrent of pain shook him to the bones. He didn’t make a sound. When the burning eased, he fell back, panting, and stared up at Elk Ivory. Her shoulder-length hair had fallen forward, framing her brown eyes and flat nose. From the cant to her jaw, he could tell she’d clenched her teeth to fight her own pain at seeing him like this.

“I had forgotten,” he murmured, “how pretty you are.”

She gazed at him nakedly. “Do you … wish me to pull the arrow out?”

It would hasten death. While it remained inside him, the arrow partially blocked the flow of gut juices. Removal would also bring unbearable pain as the contents of his torn stomach and intestines filled him up inside, eating away at his liver, kidneys, and lungs.

Blue Raven said, “Are you certain Jumping Badger won’t kill you for it? I suspect he wishes me to live as long as possible.”

“If I do it now, before he gives an order to the contrary … then it’s done.” Her eyes implored him.

Blue Raven nodded. “Yes. Hurry.”

Elk Ivory lifted her buffalo coat, and laid it aside, then gripped the bloody fletching on the arrow and cracked it off. Rising, she went around behind him, and snapped off the flint point.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“As much as I—I can be. Go on.”

In one swift clean move, she yanked the arrow all the way through his body.

Agony blinded Blue Raven. He cried out.

Wren screamed, “Uncle? Uncle!”

It took some time before his senses returned. When he opened his eyes again, he found Elk Ivory sitting at his side with her water bag open.

“You must be thirsty,” she said.

He nodded, feeling as if he hadn’t had a drink in a moon. She lifted his head up and tipped the bag to his lips. He drank greedily. The water would add to the blood and other deadly fluids draining out inside him, but it didn’t matter. Already he could feel himself starting to bloat.