People of the Morning Star(157)

With a gesture, she indicated they should open the door for her. She could read their disdain as they did so.

“Time will tell,” she told them in a voice dripping venom. She would remember, and when she ascended to rule Cahokia these two would regret their actions, thoughts, and expressions.

Stepping inside she stopped short, staring around. The walls had been stripped. Where ornaments, carvings, and trophies had once hung, the plaster was painted in drying blood. She recognized the images as depicting transformation motifs and magical signs. Even the high, woven-cane walls in the rear that separated the personal quarters from the great room sported bloody drawings. She had always admired the artistry and skill that had gone into the wall’s creation. The old woman who’d supervised its intricate weaving was long dead. From the amount of blood spattered on the tightly packed cane, the wall would never be the same.

Ah, the sacrifices we have to make.

Her sister, Lace, lay bound and naked on a litter behind the dais. Nothing about the way they’d tied her to the chair looked comfortable. She had to be in excruciating pain.

So sorry, dear sister, but nothing worthwhile comes without sacrifice, blood, and death.

Behind Lace’s litter a terrified batch of slaves crouched on the floor as if trying to make themselves small. High Dance and Columella’s six children, cowering and naked, were crowded onto the benches to her left. Each had been artfully tied to the bench frame. Half way down the room, and guarded by a Tula, sat Columella and High Dance. Sun Wing almost chuckled at the desperate hope that lay behind her cousins’ eyes as they recognized her.

“Sorry, you self-inflated fools,” she murmured to herself. “But I never liked you even in the best of times.”

She recognized Walking Smoke, his body naked and painted where he knelt in prayer before what was obviously a sweat lodge. At the fire a ceramic pot filled with black drink cast fingers of steam into the air. To one side in the rear lay a dead man, his throat slit wide.

She walked forward onto the matting and stopped. “Hello, brother.”

For a moment he remained, eyes closed, lips moving in a sub-vocal prayer. Then he gazed up at her and smiled.

“It is good to see you again, little sister. You’ve grown into a young woman. Better yet that you’ve come to share in the miracle I’m about to perform.”

“Was the information I provided useful?”

“Very much so.” He spread his arms wide. “As you can see, Morning Star had no idea what I was about. They still have no clue as to who I am. Or do they?”

“No,” she told him craftily. “The Keeper is stumped. Aunt Tonka’tzi Wind is stunned and reeling. The Morning Star, who depends upon them, has no idea you’ve returned, let alone why you are here. He’s too taken with playing his role of the living god.”

“And Night Shadow Star?” Did she detect a wistfulness behind his voice?

“She’s soul-flying. Whatever the goal of your attack the other night, she’s so lost in the Spirit world you will have been in charge of Cahokia for a half moon before she realizes any differently.”

His vision seemed to fix on eternity. “I had hoped I could lure her here, be able to share, as you will, the glory of Piasa’s incarnation in my body.” He sighed. “I have always loved her. So much that my souls ache.”

“I thought you loved me?” she asked, irritated by the longing in his eyes. She stamped her foot. “I was the one you contacted. Not her. You came to me.”

Coming back to himself, he smiled slyly. “Yes, I did. And I have no regrets. You’ve become an outstanding woman, fulfilling all of my wildest expectations. I saw it in you as a little girl: the petty tantrums, the pouting, the way you looked at Lace with such longing when she got all the attention for being good.”

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

He gave her a dismissive glance. “Make you angry? I could care less. You see, now that you’re here, telling me what you’ve just told me, only one use remains for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

His lazy smile was followed by a rapid staccato of orders, the cadence of which led her to believe was in the Caddo language. And, for the first time in her life, she began to wish she’d studied it like her mother had suggested.

As two of the Tula walked up behind her, she asked, “What did you just tell them?”

His mild eyes fixed on hers. “I’ll need you to be naked for the ceremony.”

“Oh, of course, brother. I’ll surely do that for you while surrounded by these barbarian men. What? You think I want them ogling and dreaming about what they’ll never have? Discussing my charms and what they’d like to do with them? I’m a lady of the Morning Star House.” She jerked a thumb back where Lace moaned on her litter. “I gave her to you. Told you how to gain entry to her palace. In doing so I’ve fulfilled my obligation. After you resurrect Piasa, I will be the Matron. Ruler of Cahokia.”