People of the Masks(22)

He swung around to White Kit. “Then Kit—”

“Yes.” Sobs choked Starflower. She lifted a hand to cover the mournful sounds coming up her throat, and nodded.

“Blessed gods. The village will explode. Everyone loved her.”

Rage and hurt vied for control of his senses. Kit had been a faithful leader of the clan for thirty winters, tending the ill, feeding the hungry. She had loved children more than her own life. People would scream for retribution.

“Does the child still have the knife?” he asked.

“No!” Starflower gestured toward Kit. “He dropped it right after he realized what he’d done. Threw it down like it had burned him. The knife lies in front of Kit on the floor.”

Blue Raven didn’t see it. But he didn’t see any blood, either. The poor light probably kept a wealth of things hidden from him.

“Why didn’t you call for help, Starflower? Someone would have heard and come running.”

Starflower wiped her damp eyes on her red sleeve. “It happened only moments ago. I was too stunned to cry out. I feared that if I took my eyes from it for a single instant, it would escape, transform itself into a Forest Spirit, and destroy our village!”

Disgust built in Blue Raven’s chest. Disgust with Jumping Badger because he had demanded they kidnap the boy, and with his clan because they had approved the raid. How many had died because of it?

Blue Raven backed toward the door, lifted and hooked the curtain over its peg. Light flooded the council house. He cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, “Acorn? Springwater? Come quickly! We—”

A flutter, like the frantic batting of wings, came from the roof. Blue Raven’s heart nearly burst through the cage of his ribs. He jerked around. The darkness near the boy seemed to ripple and sway, as if fanned by feathers. In the heart of the disturbance, a tiny hand grasped frantically for a roof pole.

“Starflower,” Blue Raven ordered. “Leave. Now. I ask that you make certain Acorn and Springwater heard my call. Send them if they did not. I will stay—”

“I will find them for you, Uncle Blue Raven!” Little Wren leaped into the doorway, panting, her eyes curiously searching the council house. She wore a painted deerhide cape over her shoulders. When she saw the dark shape clinging to the roof, she went silent and as still as Mouse seeing Owl.

Blue Raven started to shout at her, but instead said, “Wren, help Matron Starflower up the trail and back to the village.”

“Yes, Uncle!”

Wren ran to Starflower and gripped her elbow, helping the old woman to her feet. They passed him without a word, out into the daylight.

Wren called, “I’ll fetch Acorn and Springwater, too, Uncle!”

Blue Raven shivered.

The council house had turned bitterly cold, of a sudden, as if the Thunderbirds had flown in and made nests in the walls. He rubbed his arms, and turned back toward the child.

A low hiss, like a snake slithering through the brush, slipped through the darkness.

Blue Raven’s knees shook. It shamed and angered him, but he could not stop. All of the stories Jumping Badger had been telling for the past five winters came into focus, and he had the dreadful feeling that nothing he knew for certain was certain at all.

“I—I am Blue Raven, Headman of this village,” he said. “You are called the False Face Child, are you not?”

He forced his feet to move. When he stood directly beneath the child, Blue Raven removed his mittens, tossed them to the floor, and spread his arms to show he held no weapons in his hands—though he did have a knife tied to his belt beneath his cape. “Do you have another name? A boy’s name?”

The hiss came again, but this time it sounded more like scratching, and it clearly originated from the boy. When the scratching faded, a click-click-click-click rose. The sound of claws on wood. It paced back and forth, each click as carefully placed as a prowling animal’s.

Blue Raven clenched his hands to hard fists. He longed to draw his knife. “Boy! I have come to help you. Do you understand this?”

A drop of water struck Blue Raven’s forehead. He blinked, startled. Another hit his shoulder. The next splatted in the dirt. ,

He frowned.

… Tears.

A little boy’s tears.

Softly, he said, “I did not wish this, boy. No more than you. I’m sorry for what has happened. Please. Let me help you. The floor must look frighteningly far away from up there. May I climb up and carry you down? I—”

“Blue Raven?” Acorn shouted. “Blue Raven, we are here! We’ve brought the whole village! We all have bows. We’re—”

A low sound, half moan and half growl, came from the False Face Child. Blue Raven’s blood pounded in his ears. The cry resembled that of an animal caught in a trap.