“Not that I’m ungrateful, but the idea of hanging in a square…”
She’d half turned toward the door and the waiting warriors. “Oh, well, yes. That’s indeed a possibility given your charming proclivities.”
“My … what?”
“Your tendency toward theft, seduction, and generally bad behavior. Most likely you will end up in a square. But not today. I once said you liked challenges, enjoyed taking risks.” Her smile turned crafty. “This comeuppance, if you’re up to it. There’s a personal item of mine that the Fish Clan chief, Two Throws, took with him when I divorced him years ago. It’s a trifle, really, a small pot with the Thunderbirds engraved on it. He keeps it as a memento. But I’d like to have it back if you can get it.”
“Is that all?”
“Of course not. We’re stuck in the middle of some sort of Power struggle between Morning Star and Night Shadow Star.” She paused, made a face, and slapped a hand on the door frame. “And then, to my surprise and horror, I discover that I’ve actually missed your charming company.”
“Thank the Spirits,” Wild Hare whispered just loud enough for the old woman to hear. “He can go sing to someone else.”
“No, he can’t,” the Keeper told him. “If he so much as hums under his breath, I’ll hang his sorry carcass in a square for a week. But pus and blood, if he starts a fight, I’ll brain him myself before I listen to that racket.”
“Steal a pot, huh?” Seven Skull Shield mused as he collected his things and headed for the door.
“I thought you’d be interested,” the Keeper told him with a sly smile. “And I’ll bet Smooth Pebble’s baked acorn bread will be done by the time we get there.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Keeper.”
“Indeed I do.”