“And”—her eyes darted about uncertainly–“I will only find answers by living my questions?”
“Correct.”
Sun Conch scratched her calf while she considered this. The breeze changed, blowing sweet hickory smoke in her face. She had no clear idea of what he meant, but the discussion fascinated her. “How do I live questions, Elder?”
“You want me to give you an answer?”
Sun Conch bit her lip. “Does that mean you don’t really want to talk to me?”
“On the contrary. I am enjoying our talk very much. I guess I’m just not very good at it these days.” He stretched out on his side by the fire and propped his head on his hand. His gray hair touched the ground, and the lines around his eyes drew tight. “There is one thing I can tell you about living your questions.”
“What, Elder? I would really like to know.”
“Well, I’m not certain how to say it so that you will understand.”
“Please, try.” She swiveled around on her stump and leaned forward to get closer to him. “I may not understand now, Elder, but someday I might. My mother used to say that when I got older I would …” Her voice trailed off. Every time she thought about her mother, she felt as if she’d eaten flakes of mica, and her stomach was being cut to pieces.
Panther gently said, “Seeing inside the empty cocoons is one of the hardest things you will ever do, child. But it is all right to look.”
She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her deer hide dress, and croaked, “About living questions: You said there was one thing you could tell me. What is it?” He smiled. “Well, let’s start at the beginning.”
“Very well.” “You must first realize that life is not days, or weeks, or moons. Certainly not Comings of the Leaves.”
“Then what is it?”
“Life is instants.”
“Instants? Like … the blink of an eye?”
“Yes. A single blink of the eye. That is all we have.” Panther reached out and tapped the toe of her moccasin with his finger, as if trying to get her full attention. “You will know you are living your questions, girl, when you see life that way. As precious, fleeting instants, unconnected to anything else, with no promise of another instant to come.” She straightened up slowly, frowning, and caught sight of Nine Killer slipping out of the palisade. The stocky War Chief walked toward them, his hand on his war club. Sun Conch said, “I will think on your words, Elder. I promise. But for now, you should turn around.”
Panther followed her gaze and got to his feet.
Nine Killer had a distinctly queasy feeling in his gut as he led The Panther and Sun Conch toward the village. The night had turned bitterly cold, nipping at his exposed skin like tiny teeth.
“War Chief, is your stomach bothering you?” Panther asked.
“Yes, I … How did you know?”
“From the expression on your face.” “The Weroansqua is frightened. I’ve never seen her this way. I can hardly believe that she didn’t have me run you off this afternoon. Or kill you on the spot.”
“She had no choice.”
“You don’t know the Weroansqua.”
“Perhaps, but I know her kind. Tell me, who was that younger woman? Tall, attractive. The one who stalked off like a mad she-bear?”
“That was Shell Comb. The Weroansqua’s daughter.”
“Ah, the girl’s mother. The one who thinks Winged Blackbird’s warriors killed Red Knot.”
“That’s her.”
They slowed at the overlapped gap in the palisade, an unusual number of people loitering by the opening. Nine Killer waved them away. “What are you going to do for food?”
“We have some dried fish in our packs. It will be enough.”
“You could… that is, I would be happy to provide for you. Rosebud, uh … my sister no doubt has a pot of hominy warming. After all, the Weroansqua never said anything about eating inside.”
“You might draw more of her wrath.”
Nine Killer sighed. “She’ll call me when she’s ready. I was Blackened and killed once when I became a man. The worst she could do is kill me again.”
“Indeed,” Panther noted. “But it’s the way that she’d kill you that would be most unpleasant.”
Nine Killer scowled at the reminder. As they passed through the narrow defensive passage, his skin prickled. An odd sensation to experience coming into his own village, but his place here had been compromised. How easy it would be for a frightened or worried villager to drive an arrow through him.
No, not yet, he reminded himself. We just got home. But in a couple of days, when fear of The Panther begins to eat at their souls, then they will become dangerous. He cast a nervous glance at The Panther and Sun Conch. The girl moved like a warrior, each step careful, eyes searching for danger. She’d draped her cape over her shoulders, and the red and blue feathers glinted in the tree-filtered light.