“No … beasts, more likely.”
“Let them. Myself, I would add to that notion. I would cultivate the image of human wolves. The sort that inspire terror … the stuff of nightmares. If we do this properly terror will do what force of arms cannot. No one will dare to cross the Blessed Sun.”
“Our actions already reek of witchcraft.”
“Then let the people think of us as witch wolves.”
“This is only the first of the farmsteads who stole from the Blessed Sun. Will the men be willing to do this again?”
“The first time is always the hardest.” Turquoise Fox shrugged. “And, War Chief, unlike other warriors, we no longer have to carry our food with us.”
As Leather Hand turned and started back to the warmth of the pit house fire, he glanced up at the stars one last time. The constellation he saw was that of the Blue God. The dark holes of her eyes seemed to be staring right through his souls.
The Blue God? He glanced uneasily over his shoulders, fitting a name to the presence that seemed to lurk in the darkness , .
Yes, I become you.
Twenty-one
Light slanted across the sky, casting yellow tones in the tops of the pines. Somewhere close, stellar jays rasped at the morning and a chickaree squirrel chattered shrilly. Grasshoppers were clicking in the dry air.
Cool hands brought Ripple to wakefulness. He blinked, looking up to see Wrapped Wrist dabbing at his face with a damp bit of cloth.
He lay in a small grassy meadow, bounded on all sides by tall ponderosa pines. The soft sweet fragrance of the trees filled his nose as he inhaled. Spots squatted beside a low smoking fire, feeding it sticks.
“Where are we?” Ripple asked, aware that he didn’t sound like himself. Not only were the teeth missing in the right side of his jaw, but his vocal cords had a raspy sound. He was too afraid to look down at his body. It was enough to feel the pain and know he was in desperate shape.
“We’re headed east.”
“Toward what?”
“The Mountain Witch. That’s where you wanted to go, isn’t it?”
Ripple closed his eyes. It even hurt to nod.
“We’re sorry it took so long to get you out.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank the elders, Ripple. Especially old White Eye.”
“White Eye?”
“He seems to think your vision is a sign.”
He was happy to feel the damp cloth wiping at his cheek. Then Wrapped Wrist pressed too hard against his swollen jaw and Ripple couldn’t stifle the sudden cry.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’d endure anything rather than be back in that place.”
“Your hand …” Wrapped Wrist couldn’t finish.
“They used a stone hammer. Held my left hand down on a slab. Each time I refused to answer their question, they’d smash another knuckle.” He tried to smile through the pain and swelling. “I can’t bear to look. How bad is it?”
Wrapped Wrist hesitated. “I don’t know how it can ever be the same. It’s …”
“Crippled?”
“Perhaps not.”
“You lie poorly.”
“And your penis?”
“Matron Larkspur drove yucca leaves through it. That hurt worse than my fingers and teeth. You have no idea how loud a man can scream. I can’t bear to look … .”
“It’s bad. Swollen and leaking pus.”
“Dear gods.” Ripple swallowed hard. “I remember bits and pieces of last night. Did you see her?”
“Who?”
“Cold Bringing Woman. She was there just before you came, told me she was proud, that I had been braver than she could have expected.”
“There wasn’t any snow in that room,” Wrapped Wrist told him. “But it was colder than a winter bear’s ass.”
“What about my sisters?”
“They’re being taken care of. So are our families. The elders are hiding them from the First People’s wrath. Fir Brush even has a new friend. A slave girl who helped us get you out. The elders are going to see if they can sneak her back to her people.”
“Where’s Bad Cast? I remember him from last night.”
“He’s back with Whistle.”
“Who?”
“A warrior. A man of the Bee Flower Clan. Quite a fellow. Just the kind of leader we need.”
Spots asked, “Ripple? Can you eat anything?”
“Soup,” he answered. “But, by the gods, don’t make it too hot.” He swallowed hard. “Wrapped Wrist, I have to make water. Is it … is it scabbed over?”
After a moment, Wrapped Wrist said, “I guess so.”
“I don’t know if this is going to be harder on you or me, but someone has to pull the scab off.”