People of the Mist(33)
Panther gazed thoughtfully at the girl. She had finally forgotten her fear, and Panther considered that for a moment. She had come here not for glory, or personal gain, or any advantage, but for the life of her friend.
“Tell me, Sun Conch, what happens to you if High Fox is blamed for this?”
She gave Panther a confused look. “I’ll be very sad, Elder. It’s not right. High Fox loved Red Knot more than anything. If they catch him and kill him …” Sun Conch placed her hands on the sides of her head, pressing as if to stop the thoughts. “If they do that, I’ll see it through his eyes, live it with him. Wondering how, and why, a man could love a woman with all of his heart—and then be condemned for her murder. How would you feel, Elder, if it happened to you?”
A pain, like a bone stiletto, pierced Panther’s heart. Sickness welled in his stomach. The ache, buried for so many years, slithered out from the dark place where it hid behind his bones. Yes, you know, don’t you?
“Elder?” Sun Conch had leaned toward him, worry on her owlish face.
Panther raised a hand, hoping it didn’t tremble. “It’s all right, girl. Just a twinge, that’s all.”
For the first time in many Comings of the Leaves, his soul had been touched. “Are you human, girl, or a wicked spirit sent to torment me?”
“What?” she asked in confusion. “Human? Elder, I don’t understand.”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Elder, is it so wrong to do something just because it’s right?”
Panther lifted his bowl and. drank the liquid down to the thin coating of sand in the bottom. This he rubbed away with his fingers. “Right? As I understand the situation, if your High Fox is exonerated, Copper Thunder, Water Snake, and everyone else are going to war. Is it better to sacrifice one man to save others? Or to save one and sacrifice countless innocent people? You’re the one who worried about going to war. You tell me. What is right?”
Sun Conch stared at him. Finally, she murmured, “I don’t know, Elder. Do you?”
How many years had be been wrestling with just this question? That familiar darkness stirred his soul, slithering around inside him. How did a man know what was just when even the gods themselves did not? He couldn’t help but glance suspiciously at the two shrines flanking his house.
Sun Conch followed his gaze. “What are those, Elder?” “Come, I’ll show you. Then, perhaps, you can answer your own question.” He rose stiffly, rounded the fire, and walked to the eastern shrine. Sun Conch followed warily and took a deep breath as Panther lifted the weathered and cracked deer hide flap.
The fire cast wavering orange light into the interior. There, seated on a squat wooden frame, sat a pale statue the size of a man. Wooden offering bowls lay before him, empty. The figure was made of wood, molded clay, and sewn hide. It was painted in white clay, but a thick black band circled the chest, its interior dotted with white spots. Sunbursts painted its cheeks in faded red. Wavering lines extended down the arms where they rested on the knees. The legs were blue, crisscrossed by irregular lines.
A patch of hair, cut from a bear’s hide, covered the top of the skull, and glinted with small sections of shell. Polished oyster-shell eyes decorated the face, and gave the god a wide-eyed nacre stare. The nose was thin, straight, and painted a faded yellow. A broad mouth, the corners turned down in sadness, had been carved into the wood.
“Seen him before?” Panther asked.
“No.” But she knelt, her eyes wide in reverence, and bqwed her head lest she offend the deity.
“Not many people have, girl. It’s one of the things wrong with the world. All out of balance. You look upon Ohona.”
Sun Conch jerked her head up, wonder in her eyes. “Greetings, Great Lord.” “Go back to the fire, girl. A skim of stew remains. Cup up a handful and bring it over here for the bowls. Ohona is hungry.” Sun Conch hastened to comply. She ran back to the fire, scooped a cupful of dregs from the bottom of the pot, and returned. Hesitantly, she let it dribble into the bowl.
“Thank you for the world you made for us, Great One,” Panther intoned the old prayer. “Bless this food to your use and shed your benevolence upon us.”
To Panther’s surprise, Sun Conch reached beneath her cape and drew out a small twist of tobacco, which she laid before Ohona. “Thank you, Great Lord. Bless me and my friend High Fox. He is blamed for something he didn’t do.”
Panther let the flap drop and studied Sun Conch. “Best scoop up what’s left for the other one.”
The fearful glance Sun Conch gave the other hut showed that she understood who the occupant must be. She went back to the pot, scraped up what was left, and met Panther at the western shrine. Panther lifted the flap to expose Okeus to the gaudy light of the fire. Painted in black, he was the opposite of Ohona. He had a white band on his chest, dotted with black. His shell eyes glimmered in the firelight, but unlike Ohona, he was smiling as if in great glee.