People of the Moon(172)

In an effort to keep from staring at the loathsome fetish, Wind Leaf looked out across what vista he could see through the gaps on either side of the southern wall. The land baked in the heat, waves of it rising off the cornfields and the distant uplands. The southwest wind seemed to suck at his very souls. It carried a cloud of ash from the Rainbow Serpent that settled atop them; at times he could catch its foul breath: sulfurous and noxious.

He said, “I have everything in readiness, Blessed Sun. Supplies are packed. I have detailed a handful of scouts to precede us along the route. Five of my best warriors will accompany us dressed as slaves. If Matron Desert Willow goes with us, I will detail another eight warriors to act as her litter bearers.”

As he talked, they rounded the great kiva. Webworm seemed not to hear, carving as he walked. Nevertheless he said, “Oh she will go. She won’t want to miss Sister Moon’s homecoming. I don’t know if she wants to attend the opening ceremonies at equinox or pick a time during the next three moons to travel up there.”

“Fire and ice!” The cry came from the bear cage several paces beyond the great kiva’s southern entrance.

Webworm stopped suddenly. Did his face go pale?

Then the Blessed Sun shook himself, pacing up to the wooden cage. He peered into the shadowed interior. “Are you enjoying your stay, witch?”

Wind Leaf could see the old woman. She sat cross-legged, naked, her aged skin hanging in loose wrinkles. She should have been half-delirious from thirst by now, let alone famished. Instead her eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intent as she studied Webworm.

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping, Webworm.” Her voice carried more conviction than a prisoner’s should.

Wind Leaf frowned. No, she couldn’t have heard. They’d been on the other side of the great kiva.

“My sleep isn’t your concern.” Webworm snorted, shook his head, and continued with his carving. “Were I you, I’d be contemplating my journey to Spider Woman’s fire.”

She smiled, her gray hair hanging in ratty strands. “That’s a curious thing for you, of all people, to say. I’m not the one carving a serpent born from a cock’s egg.”

Webworm held the carving up.

As quickly, the old woman had turned her head to the side, refusing to see it. “I know it very well. Didn’t you hear the voices warning you? Just having it in the same room with the Spirits sends them into a frenzy. I’d be careful, Webworm.”

“You’ll be dead,” he growled.

“Not just yet. You and I still have business between us.”

Webworm looked mystified. “What business?”

“I have come to free you of evil, Webworm. I am the Witness.”

Wind Leaf thought it was all rantings, but when he looked at Webworm’s face, he could see a deeper worry. “Free?” the Blessed Sun whispered under his breath. “What good would freedom do me?”

“If I kill you without freeing you from the serpent, your soul will never find Cloud Playing. She’s waiting for you.”

To Wind Leaf’s amazement, Webworm nodded slightly, frowning. Blood and pus, he wasn’t believing this, was he? “Blessed Sun? About traveling to First Moon Mountain?”

“Hurry,” the old woman added. “The sooner you get to First Moon Mountain, the sooner the people can rise against you.”

“What have you heard?” Wind Leaf demanded. “Speak, or I shall have your tongue stretched and pierced with cactus thorns.”

She glanced at him as if seeing him for the first time. He couldn’t help but gasp as her eyes met his.

“So, you’ve heard the rumors? Reported it to your Blessed Sun, have you?”

Wind Leaf flinched.

“Rumors?” Webworm asked.

Wind Leaf waved it away, uneasy at the old woman’s manner. “It’s nothing. Talk, is all. The story is that the Made People are ready to revolt. Supposedly even the clan leadership is conspiring against you. I haven’t been able to prove any of it.”

Webworm chuckled at that. “Nor will you. Rest assured, Creeper would tell me at the first hint of trouble.”

“You are indeed your namesake,” the witch said. “A worm caught in your own web. A treat for the robins, kingbirds, spiders, and wasps. I wonder, which will get you first?”

“You could be dead at a moment’s notice, witch!” Wind Leaf pointed a hard finger. “Let me kill her, Blessed Sun. We don’t need to put up with her spreading her poison.”

“Not yet,” Webworm said, frowning.

“Hurry,” the old woman whispered. “Away with you. Go, Webworm. The sooner you reach First Moon Mountain, the sooner the world will be rid of you. Go, before the Rainbow Serpent snatches you for fouling his realm with your little carvings.”