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People of the Mist(44)

By:W. Michael Gear


“High Fox, what did you do? Touch her? Try to save her, what?”

“I wiped some of the blood off, thinking, hoping it was some silly game. A trick to make me worry. But the blood… fire and lightning, the blood …” He lifted his right hand, looking at it as if the skin were stained. “Her blood. It was so cold … all through her hair.”

“Did you try to rouse her? To see if she was just injured?”

High Fox shook his head. “She was dead, Elder. No doubt about it. Her eyes were half-open—and had leaves in them.”

“So she was dead. How was the body? Show me. Get down on the ground.”

High Fox did, sprawling with his leg up, one arm out thrust and slightly curled. “Like this. The blood was all over the left side of her head, and some had trickled down her face. Like this.” He traced along the curve of his cheek.

“And was there anything with her?”

“No. Nothing that I saw.” High Fox stood and returned to the fire, reaching out to the flames with trembling hands. “I didn’t stay very long. I just turned and ran. I—I…” He winced. “I ran into a man on the trail. Flat Willow. He was halfway down the slope. I told him . well, I think I said my father wanted me. I don’t know. I don’t remember. I was scared like I’d never been scared before. So I hurried back to my boat and shoved off. Then I paddled like a madman for home.”

Panther lifted his brows. “I thought you stowed your canoe in some brush and sneaked up to the village to hear the talk?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, and jerked a nod. “I did do that. It was afterward that I paddled for home.” “And that’s all there is to it?” High Fox nodded. “I swear it, Elder. I didn’t kill her-and I don’t know who did. Maybe Flat Willow. He was out there. He was the only person I saw.”

The Panther stared into those haunted eyes, and steepled his fingers. “You know, you’re in a fix, boy. I can guess how Hunting Hawk and’ Flat Pearl Village are thinking. Not only were you running off with their woman—a woman promised to Copper Thunder—but you were seen running from the place where they found her murdered.”

“Yes, I know.” He stared at his hand again. “And I remember Flat Willow asking me about my hand. I told him I’d cut it.”

“And why did you do that?”

“Because Red Knot’s blood was all over it.”

Sun Conch added wood to the fire, and Panther watched the flames lick around it. If High Fox wanted to save a lot of people a lot of trouble, he’d cut his own throat right now.

Bat droppings, that’s how it’s going to end anyway. Who’d believe the boy didn’t do it? I’m not even sure I believe he didn’t.

“And all I have is your word that you didn’t kill her?” Panther asked.

“What else is there?” High Fox asked. “Maybe I was wrong to tell her I’d take her away, but I did it. And I think I’d do it again.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “By the dark god, all we wanted was a chance. Is that too much to ask?”

“Sometimes, boy, it is.” Panther sighed, and tucked his blanket tighter. “Well, let me sleep on it. I’ll give you my answer in the morning.”

As Panther curled up in his blanket beside the fire, he saw High Fox take Sun Conch’s hand and lead her a short distance away. Panther slitted one eye, watching them.

High Fox stopped at the edge of the swamp, released Sun Conch’s hand, and folded his arms tightly across his broad chest. Yellow eyes sparkled on the far side of the reeds, and Sun Conch saw a big wolf slink away into the darkness. She watched until it vanished, and put a gentle hand on High Fox’s shoulder.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He doesn’t believe me,” High Fox whispered. “I could see it on his face, he thinks I—I…”

“No, he doesn’t. You’re imagining it. The Panther said he needed time to think about what you’d told him. If he’d already decided your fate, do you think he’d still be here?”

High Fox gestured anxiously, then pulled Sun Conch into his arms, and pressed her face tightly against his shoulder. “In the name of Okeus, I don’t know what to believe. What am I going to do?”

The freezing mist seemed to draw closer, wrapping them in icy folds, and she felt his lungs moving in and out in shallow breaths. Sun Conch slipped her arms around his waist. “You are tired, High Fox. You need to rest. Will you sleep better if I stand guard over you?”

She felt his hand moving down her back, and she could feel its warmth through her cape. The sound of his voice, his touch, skillfully opened doors she had tried very hard to close forever. Behind those doors lay the joy and warmth of their childhood together. A sad longing for them swelled her heart.