Blue Heron made a face, pinching her nose. “What about now? When did the sorcerer contact you?”
“Midwinter. A messenger from the Whisperer arrived and asked an audience of me. He sent an offering of Trade, and told me that I would finally have my revenge on Chunkey Boy.”
“Chunkey Boy is dead!” Tonka’tzi Wind thundered.
“Maybe. So people believe. And he plays the part well.” Right Hand shrugged. “But every time I see the Morning Star, I see Chunkey Boy. And every time he looks at me, he grins, knowing full well what he did to me.”
“So, you received the knife from Bleeding Hawk. How did you get it to Cut String?”
“Through a stone Trader who knew about the incest in Cut String’s family. And Cut String had his own trouble with Chunkey Boy when he was little.” He barked a bitter laugh. “What normal boy didn’t?”
“Where do we find this stone Trader?”
“You don’t.” Right Hand glanced sadly at his maimed hand. “I gave him a wealth of Trade, two comely young immigrant women for wives, and told him that he was implicated in an attack on the Morning Star. He’s fully aware that if he ever comes back, he’ll bleed the last of his life out on the square.”
Right Hand gave her a triumphant smile. “It was the only way to…” His stomach seemed to cramp.
“To what?” Tonka’tzi Wind asked.
Right Hand made a face, as if in pain. “To ensure that you’d never get him to talk.”
“And how did you get Evening Star House to cooperate?” Blue Heron asked. Right Hand was looking sick, the confidence gone. And well he should, given the …
Right Hand jerked, stomach rising as if in a dry heave. He swallowed hard, what looked like foam at the corner of his mouth.
“That, you’ll have to find out for yourself.” His entire body spasmed, and he collapsed next to his sister. Seven Skull Shield dropped to a knee beside the man as War Claw rushed forward. Together they rolled the convulsing Right Hand onto his back.
Blue Heron and Sun Wing had both risen.
Right Hand’s gut heaved, spewing vomit.
“What is it, Aunt?” Sun Wing asked.
“Water hemlock.” Blue Heron sighed and dropped back onto the dais in defeat. Then Corn Seed gagged, twitched, and threw up. “Somehow they’ve managed to poison themselves.”
Blue Heron leaped down to stare into Right Hand’s dark and fearful eyes, demanding, “Where’s Lace? Where did they take her? Tell me, and I’ll cut short the suffering.”
Right Hand’s tongue pushed out another gob of foam, his muscles twisting and jerking, his feet kicking at the matting.
“Don’t know … Nothing … Where’s Lace…” His eyes rolled back in his head. With a violent contraction he threw up yellow slime and foam.
Seven Skull Shield stood, backing away, and shook his head. “Now, Keeper, the question remains: How much of what they said is true? And how much is lies concocted in accord with the scorpion to mislead us?”
* * *
“Do you believe that Piasa’s souls are actually inside her?” Fire Cat asked Rides-the-Lightning as he squeezed a rag and trickled water into Night Shadow Star’s mouth. He sat beside her on her bed. Her room was illuminated by a circle of hickory-oil lamps that cast a warm yellow glow over the walls, bed, altar, and storage boxes.
Where he sat on a large box, Rides-the-Lightning lifted a shaggy white eyebrow. His opaque eyes stared into emptiness. “I had trouble with the notion at first. How can such a Powerful Underworld Spirit as Piasa project such a strong reflection of his Power into a young woman? Even one as gifted as Night Shadow Star? And then I realized, old and slow as I am, that her brother is home to the living god.”
The old shaman smacked his toothless gums. “Power runs through the Four Winds Clan like a deep-water current.”
Fire Cat rewet the cloth in a bowl of water. “I’ve watched your supposed ‘living’ god. He does play the part, acts like he is the Morning Star. Night Shadow Star, however, acts like she’s trying to be herself.”
Rides-the-Lightning sighed, resettling himself on the box. “I cannot change your heresy through any argument or proof. Belief is a choice we all make as individuals. Worship, however, can be, and often is, an enforced behavior. But whether or not you believe in the Morning Star? Any time we waste in debate over it is a distraction.”
“It doesn’t seem like a distraction to me, Soul Flier.”
“Oh, I don’t argue that your heresy isn’t in some way crucial to our current circumstances.” The old man pointed a cautionary finger. “Power is shifting, Red Wing. Something terrible has come to Cahokia. The entire Underworld is shaken clear down to First Woman’s cave. Power has brought you here, reeking of heresy, and placed you with Night Shadow Star for a purpose. But what purpose? I cannot say.”