People of the Morning Star(153)
Seven Skull Shield—his skin prickling with unease—slipped through the door, encountering a thick fabric hanging on all sides while the person who let him in reset the door.
“Here, to your right. You’ll have to slip through the folds of the curtain.”
Almost being led, Seven Skull Shield pushed his way past hanging blankets and into the main room. The walls here were covered with shelving and boxes—essentially the treasure house filled with Crazy Frog’s winnings. As obscure as the building looked from the outside, it had been built like a fortress with two layers of vertically set, thickly plastered, white-ash logs, a stone floor, and solid timber roof overhead. At least two burly warriors were known to guard it at any given moment.
Several hickory lamps burned brightly, adding their sweet odor to the warm air and casting the room in a yellow glow. Crazy Frog sat on a tripod chair, his legs out before him, arms resting on large, intricately carved wooden boxes to either side. Stepping in behind Seven Skull Shield was one of the guards; the other—the man who’d let him in—took up position on his right.
Crazy Frog cocked his head and narrowed an eye as Seven Skull Shield lifted the chunkey stone, and said, “Thanks for sending this. I could use a little luck about now.”
“You may not like what I have to tell you, old friend.”
Seven Skull Shield grinned humorlessly as he hefted the stone disk. “If what I already know is the way of things, there’s not much good news to go around.”
Crazy Frog, his dark eyes shining in the light, smiled warily. “Have you identified this assassin?”
“Word came straight from the Underworld. Or so I’m to believe. If my source is right, the assassin is Lord Walking Smoke himself. The old tonka’tzi’s son. The brother to Chunkey Boy and Night Shadow Star.”
“What’s he here to do?” Crazy Frog played his fingers like dancing spider legs across the chest’s carved wood. He had his hair up in a bun, pinned with polished copper that caught the light. His lips were pursed.
“He’s here to destroy the Four Winds Clan, old friend. If we can trust one of his Tula warriors, he wants to rip Cahokia up by the roots and cast it away. Apparently his ultimate goal is to resurrect the Piasa’s souls inside his human body. Some mad scheme about unhinging the Spirit worlds and plunging Cahokia into a massive chaos.”
Crazy Frog stiffened; his normally blank face and placid demeanor tensed. “That’s heresy and … That’s … That’s…”
“About as crazy and insane as a man might be?” Seven Skull Shield tossed the beautiful red stone up and let it smack into his hand. The thing had perfect balance. “Normally, I’d agree with you, say let him try, and see what it gets him.”
“But you don’t think that’s such a good idea?”
Seven Skull Shield shook his head. “Some people—who know a whole lot more than I do—actually think he might pull it off.”
Crazy Frog’s spiderlike fingers flipped over in a questioning gesture. “It might bring even more players to Cahokia, more people to try their skill on our courts. The games might be even more challenging than they are now.”
“Assuming you avoid the riots, vengeance killings, and open religious warfare Walking Smoke is hoping for, you’ve still got one major problem with that, old friend.”
“And what is that? A lack of faith?”
“No.” Seven Skull Shield tossed the stone up and caught it, his eyebrow lifted. “Piasa would kill Morning Star and break the Four Winds Clan … all of it. Destroyed. To do that he needs that civil war, turning sky clans against the earth clans, rekindling old feuds among the dirt farmers, and unleashing Underworld Power. But let’s say he succeeds without a bloody and devastating war that depopulates half of Cahokia. Now, old friend, your worst fears come true. You see: Piasa, being all snarly and Underworldly, doesn’t play chunkey.”
Crazy Frog leaned forward, rubbing his hands thoughtfully together. His expression was pained. “When, my friend, have you cultivated such a persuasive eloquence?”
“I assume you sent me this stone for some other reason than just to chat about the Piasa?”
Crazy Frog chewed at his lips for a moment, eyes narrowed. “What if I’d located the Lady Lace and knew where you could find this Walking Smoke? What would that be worth to the Keeper and the Morning Star?”
“You could probably name your reward. Maybe your own private tower to watch the matches on the Grand Plaza? I’d be tempted to suggest the Morning Star would throw a couple of games for you. Let the other guy win so that you’d collect on the odds. But I’m not sure he’s that grounded in the subtler strategies of gambling for profit.”