“How did this happen?” Wooden Flower wondered.
“Webworm,” Creeper said sadly, and a wound that had opened in his soul began to bleed. “I watched him grow up. He was my closest friend in the world. I loved him. But since he became Blessed Sun, he has become a stranger. Something inside him changed. I do not know this new Webworm. He … he is the fulfillment of the Fire Dog prophecy. I didn’t believe it, as you all know. Now, however, after the things I have seen …”
“He changed,” Yellowgirl agreed. “Once, he was so likable.”
“Bad seed leads to a bad harvest,” Copper Ring muttered.
“I have tried to see him for four days now,” Creeper added. “Each time Wind Leaf has prohibited it. Desert Willow only walks between her rooms and her clan kiva. She goes nowhere without Wind Leaf and a couple of warriors as guards.”
“They are afraid,” Copper Ring added. “Pinnacle House has been burned, the holy Sunwatcher murdered. Runners sent by my people say that the bodies were burned in the kivas. Many of the Made People were killed after the attack, others driven out. The fugitives are on the way here, spreading terrible stories of the Moon People’s wrath as they come.”
Creeper took a deep breath. “I never thought I would be the one to say this, but it is time that we take action.” He knotted a fist, his face a mask of despair. “How did we end up here? What did we do wrong?”
“Nothing.” A voice came from the door as a tall man ducked into the room.
Fear’s fingers tightened on Creeper’s heart. Gods, were they found out? He turned, taking a moment to recognize the big man who blocked the sunlight. The patch over the left eye only fooled him for a moment. “Ironwood? Is that you?”
The old war chief nodded, then bowed to Wooden Flower, who looked shocked, his good hand clasping his abalone pendant. “Greetings, Clan Elder. I hope the Matron is well.”
Creeper thought Ironwood didn’t look well, a grayness about him, a slump to his shoulders.
Yellowgirl bobbed her head in greeting, but asked, “What are you doing here? You’re declared Outcast. If Webworm hears that—”
“Webworm is dead,” Ironwood said firmly. “The Blessed Nightshade, whom you know as the Mountain Witch, cut his heart from his body the night of the storm.”
“But we haven’t heard this,” Wooden Flower insisted.
“Desert Willow doesn’t want you to.” Ironwood stared from face to face. “She’s deathly afraid of what the people will do when they find out.”
Yellowgirl asked, “Is that why you’re here? Come to lead the Moon People to destroy Flowing Waters Town?”
He shook his head sadly. “I couldn’t stop what happened up there. I wanted only to take Blue Racer, Larkspur, and the rest captive. I could have exchanged their lives for Night Sun, used them as pawns while the Made People clans bartered for shared authority. I hadn’t counted on the rage of the Moon People.”
“Then,” Creeper asked, “you didn’t attack with the purpose of killing the First People?”
“No.” Ironwood gave a faint shake of his head. “The gods, however, had other plans. I have come here only for Night Sun. If you will help me recover her and the rest of the people Leather Hand took, I will leave you to make your own way in peace.”
Creeper spread his hands wide. “They are not here.”
Ironwood’s single eye narrowed. “Not here?”
“Not that we’ve heard,” Copper Ring corrected. “The rumor here is that angry Made People have taken her as punishment for her crimes against them. We have sent out runners to determine if this is indeed the case, but have heard nothing.”
“Leather Hand captured her. I know that for a fact.” Ironwood was frowning. “Why would they want the credit to go to the Made People? What is the purpose of this lie?”
“Things are unsettled,” Wooden Flower said. “But then you walk in here claiming the Blessed Sun’s been dead for four days, too. And we’ve heard nothing of that.”
Yellowgirl grunted her assent.
“How did you find us?” Creeper asked. “No one knew of this meeting.”
“I have friends here.” Ironwood smiled. “For the most part they pass invisibly. The least among us are sometimes the greatest.”
“However you found out, we must decide what to do about the First People. Perhaps the gods sent you to us as a sign that they must be removed from our lives.” Creeper raised his hands, making a decision that deepened the wounds in his souls. “I have come here to recommend that we throw them out of Flowing Waters Town.”