People of the Mist(65)
“I mean you don’t have many human friends.”
“People come and people go. Friendship, now, that’s a transitory thing indeed. Circumstances change and people change with them. Perhaps it is an experience that alters a person’s understanding of life—say, an experience in war. Or, once, I knew a brave man who was elevated to the position of War Chief. He hadn’t changed, not really, but his friends thought he had. Then, I knew a Trader once who crossed the Western Mountains, visited the great chieftains on their high mounds, drank their black drink, and ate from finely crafted dishes. When he returned, his closest friends called him crazy. They said he was a liar. Another time, two friends, a man and woman, married, each willing to do whatever was necessary to live as his mate wished. But once again, War Chief, the friendship that had lasted for years was altered forever. They divorced within two Comings of the Leaves.”
“Nothing is constant, Elder. Only the sky above and the earth below.”
“I wouldn’t bet on them, either, War Chief.”
Nine Killer scratched his jaw, squinted as he thought, and finally shrugged. “No, I suppose not.”
They ate in silence for a while.
At last Nine Killer asked, “Don’t you miss human companionship out on that island, or are those things beyond the needs of a … a man like you?”
The Panther lifted a white eyebrow. “You were going to say a witch?”
Nine Killer’s guts crawled, but he said it anyway. “Witches have evil spirits to converse with, don’t they?”
The Panther sighed, wrists suddenly going limp. The squash dripped from his fingers. “War Chief, I am going to need your help to see this thing through. I can’t find Red Knot’s killer by myself. I must have an ally in Flat Pearl Village. The murderer has cleverly hidden himself, and I will need you to help me weasel him from behind his cover.”
Nine Killer studied the steaming slice of venison in his hand. “I have to tell you, for a sorcerer, you seem to have a basic lack of understanding as to what your duties are.” He waved the meat to indicate the surroundings. “A witch should be sowing discord, acting for his own. self-interest. Not making peace.”
Panther resumed sucking squash from his fingers. “Well, War Chief, don’t tell anyone, but just for your information, I’m not a night traveler. Like I told you earlier, even if you offered me a witch’s Power, I’d turn it down. It would cost too much of my soul.” He jerked his head toward the statue of the god. “He can have all the chaos he wants.”
“Be careful of what you say, Elder, witch or not.” Nine Killer was uncomfortably aware that across the distance the god’s shell eyes seemed to have fixed on him.
“My loyalty is to Ohona, War Chief. The dark god and I made our peace a long time ago.”
How could a man talk so blithely about Okeus? Nine Killer shifted the conversation to a safer subject. “Then why do you let people talk? Why not do something to prove you’re not a witch?”
The Panther met Nine Killer’s gaze, a twinkle in his eye. “Because only a witch could have stopped Black Spike from wiping out you and your warriors. Only a witch could have hinted horrible disaster to the Weroance if he didn’t give this feast. And, when you finally take me to Flat Pearl Village, we’re going to need a witch to smoke the murderer out of his hole.”
The Panther scooped up the last of the squash, gulped it down, belched, and added, “But the greatest advantage of all is that when people think you’re a witch, you can eat an entire serving of squash all by yourself.”
“Wait”—Nine Killer raised his free hand—“I’m not taking you to—”
“Oh, but you are. If you don’t, I’ll curse you in front of all your warriors. Do you really think anyone would follow you after that?”
Nine Killer blanched. “But you said—”
“Your warriors never heard me say it.” The Panther wiped his hands clean on his thighs, eyes on the steaming pot of hominy across from him. “Besides, having a witch around is so exciting, I doubt they’d believe you if you told them otherwise. So, I guess you’ll just have to take me to Flat Pearl Village, won’t you?”
Nine Killer glared, but The Panther seemed nonchalant as he pointed at the hominy pot. “Could you pass that over in my direction?”
The Panther wrapped his blanket tightly about his shoulders and strolled out into the night, Sun Conch following quietly behind.
He sighed with relief as he left the palisade, and the stifling number of people within it. The presence of Okeus had bothered him, too. The statue hadn’t been particularly well crafted, and that mocking smile had worn on Panther’s nerves. More than once, he’d caught himself just short of throwing a bone at it. Had he, the simpleminded villagers would have nearly shed their skins in horror. The only thing that would have had him chucked headfirst into the fire faster would have been if he’d stood up and announced himself as born out of incest.