People of the Morning Star(25)

“Piasa,” she whispered, remembering the large yellow eyes with their midnight pupils. In that instant, she stiffened, memory and terror returning with a vengeance. “He bit…” She slapped hands to her head, frantically feeling her smooth cheeks and delicate ears. To her relief, the bone beneath was firm, whole, and unbroken.

She whispered in horror, “I remember his mouth opening … The teeth, so white and sharp, closing around my…”

The old man’s sightless eyes widened, the toothless mouth opening in amazement to reveal pink gums and the rounded mound of his tongue.

“Bit you where?”

“Grabbed my … my head. C-Crushed my skull. I felt it.” She whimpered against the terror. “I felt my skull crack!”

“So I see,” he barely whispered, blind eyes narrowing.

Night Shadow Star shivered and forced herself to sit up. The water snake coiled itself around the old man’s age-callused hands.

Think! It’s not real. You’re here … Somewhere. Alive!

But it had been real. The memories, the liquid fear in her veins, were all too fresh. She wanted to weep from the sheer relief of being alive.

Alive where?

She forced herself to look around and found herself on the mat floor beside the great fire. Her naked body was cushioned by a thick buffalo-wool blanket; the Four Winds Clan design depicted the curling spirals of the winds at each corner. The familiar interior of the Earth Moiety’s great temple surrounded her with its intricately sculpted benches; the stunning relief-carved image of Morning Star dominated the back wall.

An arm’s length away, the eternal fire burned brightly as it snapped flames and sparks toward the high roof.

Despite its radiant heat, a shiver ran through her as she noted the pots and carved boxes full of ritual items, bunches of dried medicine herbs hanging from twine, a line of masks representing Spirit Wolf, Bear, Falcon, Ivory-billed Woodpecker, Antlered Deer, and Buffalo. Hollow black eyes fixed on her as the painted masks glared down from the surrounding walls.

“What are you?” Rides-the-Lightning asked cautiously. “Who are you?”

“What?” She stared at him in confusion.

“Who are you?”

“I am Night Shadow Star!” she barked back, half frightened, and more than a little irritated at his sudden reserve.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She crossed her arms defensively over her bare breasts and wondered where her clothes were. Struggling, she tried to remember. She’d been in her palace, at the altar in the rear. She’d been looking into the well pot, seeking Makes Three, desperate for his company.

The old man’s sightless eyes seemed to peer into her very body, and her souls squirmed. His voice wavered as he said, “Because now that my vision clears, I don’t see Night Shadow Star inside you.”

She blinked, feeling woozy. “I am the tonka’tzi’s eldest daughter. Who else would I be?”

“Ah. That is the question, isn’t it? Part of you is her, yes. But the rest…?” His expression twisted with disbelief. “How can this be?”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re talking like a fool.”

He pulled back, his age-callused hands carefully lowering the water snake to a burnished brown jar incised with the interlocked design of Tie Snakes. The creature glided through his fingers and into the pot’s dark recesses.

“The Piasa, you claim? Let us see.” Rides-the-Lightning turned his head toward one of the assistant priests who lingered in the background. The old man said something in a language she couldn’t understand: the holy speech of the priests.

The assistant stepped to one of the sleeping benches and slid out an intricately carved box. He opened the lid and muttered a prayer before reaching inside and withdrawing what looked like a cape fashioned from cougar hide. As he lifted it out a long, tanned, rattlesnake skin dropped down from the back to sway suggestively. Spread eagle wings had been affixed to the pelt’s shoulders.

She kept shooting worried looks at the thing as she rubbed her angular shins. Her normally smooth skin felt oddly cold, her stomach still on the verge of revolt.

“You say Piasa grabbed you by the head and crushed your skull?” Rides-the-Lightning asked absently as the assistant approached with the cape. “Describe him.”

“He looked like Piasa,” she snapped. “Cougar head, pink nose, bristly whiskers. Three-fork design around yellow eyes with empty black pupils. And then all I saw was the mouth. Big white teeth! Curling pink tongue.” She frowned. “And down in his throat…”

“Yes?” he asked at her puzzled tone.