“No.” Nine Killer gave him a flat smile. “My ancestors are all resting outside the village in the ossuary. That’s where I’ll be. I have no business mingling with the ghosts of chiefs.”
Panther slowed and studied Nine Killer. “I’ve been many places, done a great many things, and seen all the different ways that men raise themselves above their fellows. Some of the chiefs I have known have called themselves gods, others said they were born of the sun, their souls composed of a blinding shaft of light that would blind mere mortals with its brilliance. In the end, War Chief, they are just as ordinary as you and I. Their spit is just as wet, their belches caused by the same indigestion. Heat them and they sweat, feed them and they defecate. Their supposed Power of soul and spirit can’t even stop a simple thing like wrinkles and gray hair. They die of the same wounds and poisons that would kill their lowest slave. Besides,” he added. “The people resting in the House of the Dead are your relatives. It is your business.”
Nine Killer shook his head. “You’ve had the most unusual life, Elder.”
“Indeed. And now let me turn my experiences to this latest of curiosities. Hunting Hawk said I could search for the girl’s murderer. I can’t do that unless I can learn everything that happened, War Chief. I must begin with the girl—be there when Green Serpent prepares her body.”
Nine Killer cast a quick glance at the Weroansqua’s Great House, and nodded. “This way.”
Together they walked to the curtained entryway to the House of the Dead. Panther ducked and entered. Nine Killer hesitated.
“Come, War Chief,” Panther waved him in. “You are to guard me, observe all of my actions. If you’re not inside with me I might steal all of Greenstone Clan’s treasures.”
“I don’t know, I—”
“Are these your ancestors, or not?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then you’ve as much right to be in their presence as anyone else.”
Nine Killer stepped inside.
“What of me? I’m Star Crab Clan,” Sun Conch asked. She’d worn her long hair loose today, and it shimmered in the wan sunlight. “Do I have to go in?”
“I’ll protect you,” Panther said. She gritted her teeth, and entered. Once in the anteroom, Panther called, “Is anyone here?”
“Who comes?” a scratchy voice returned.
“It is The Panther, come to watch the preparation of Red Knot’s body. It is all right, Kwiokos. The Weroans qua knows I am here.”
“The Panther?” Green Serpent appeared from behind the first mat wall. He squinted, and stepped forward. “I had heard that you were coming here. The ghosts told me. I was going to go and see you, see if I had to fight you in order to protect my people from your sorcery.”
Two younger men followed the elder out, each wearing their priestly garb of feather cloaks, necklaces that clattered with a wealth of shell and copper, and perfectly tanned deer hide clothing. Panther figured the tall one to be Lightning Cat, the short muscular one Streaked Bear.
“You have no need to fight me,” Panther replied as he walked past the first smoking fire pit. The eternal fire had burned down to a bed of glowing coals. “I am here to help, not to harm. Red Knot ‘has been murdered, and I have come to find the killer.”
“This death of Red Knot …” Green Serpent frowned, his white eyebrows drawn together. “This is a problem. I have been looking into the coals”—he gestured at the eternal fire—“and have seen nothing but shifting images of the murderer. I don’t know if it’s because Red Knot’s killer has used Power against me, to blind me, or whether it’s Red Knot’s ghost getting in the way.”
“Her ghost is getting in the way?” Panther asked, intrigued. “How? Why? This is most unusual.”
Green Serpent cast him a sidelong glance. “Indeed it is. That is why I suspect that something is blinding me. What would the terrible Panther think of that? Hmm?”
Panther stroked his chin. Nine Killer and Sun. Conch stood watching uneasily from across the room.
“She may be trying to help you, not hinder,” Panther replied. “Have you asked her if she’s displeased?”
Green Serpent nodded. “And when I do, the image wavers even more.”
“Have you tried rubbing sacred datura paste on your temples? Sometimes that can clear the vision.”
The Kwiokos nodded. “Oh, I have. I used the paste until I was sick, my soul floating out of my body. I saw many wondrous and frightening things, but this murderer eluded me. It was most peculiar … but, I’ll tell you what, there is a terrible crime involved in this. Nothing else would have the Spirits so upset.”