People of the Morning Star(50)
What is it? What’s wrong?
His heart began to pound; he listened to the silence. From the corner of the room he could hear the faint rhythmic gnawing of a mouse.
Still, that feeling of threat hovering over him might have been a grim mist.
He blinked, slowly taking a breath, smelling the musty blanket on which he slept, drawing in the faint scent of smoke. And something else. He sniffed again, catching a hint of musk.
Someone was close. Too close.
Turning his head, he froze. Eyes wide, his gaze fixed on the stone knife poised over his heart. The blade was as long as a man’s forearm, and two slender brown hands gripped it at the top. He followed those athletic female arms back to Night Shadow Star.
She knelt beside him, knees together in the manner of a well-bred woman. A finely woven hemp skirt patterned in black and white diagonal lines conformed to her hips. Her long black hair hung loosely over her shoulders like a midnight mantle. The expression on her fine triangular face bespoke tortured indecision.
“Go ahead,” he whispered. “You’ve taken everything else from me.”
Her nod was faint, as if she heard from a great distance. The knife poised over his heart didn’t so much as waver.
“Piasa,” she whispered, as if talking to herself, “you ask too much!”
“Piasa?” Fire Cat studied the knife, shifting ever so slightly. If he could get his right arm clear of the blanket, move quickly enough, he could thrust up, grab her hands, and pull that long chert blade straight down into his body.
Am I that ready to die?
A weary smile curled his lips. What an easy escape from his pledge to serve this vile woman.
“Do you know what it’s like?” Her voice sounded hollow. “How do you expect me to sleep in peace, knowing he’s here? In my house, eating my food, drinking my water? Breathing my air?”
“I could be elsewhere,” he suggested softly. “Just release me from my vow.”
Her eyes tightened the slightest bit, accenting the faint shake of her head. “It would be so easy. Just like tonight. He sleeps soundly. A simple thrust. The blood would flow, rich, red, pulsing with each dying beat of his heart.” She closed her eyes, tipping her head back, as if relishing the dream. “Would it wash away this endless feeling of despair and pain?”
“Try it and see,” Fire Cat suggested. “I don’t wish to be bound to you any more than you want me polluting your house with my eating, drinking, and breathing.”
Her brow lined in pain; she glanced down at him, and seemed to see him for the first time. “You killed him. And doing so, you killed me.”
“That is the red nature of war, Lady.” Fire Cat shrugged. “And had he won that day? Had Power favored him and his squadrons? Would I have fared any differently? Your brother sent him to destroy us. We defended ourselves. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“You could have reached into my body and torn my heart out. It wouldn’t have hurt any less.”
He narrowed an eye, wondering at the muscle control that allowed her to hold the knife without even a faint quiver. “I think I’m catching a glimmer of what this is all about. Your pain is an obsession with you. You’ve been raised to be the exalted and overindulged sister of the Morning Star, daughter of Tonka’tzi Red Warrior Tenkiller, niece to the Matron Wind. You’ve never been denied anything, have you? Never had life, Power, or fate slap you hard in the face. Now it has, and the spoiled child inside you can’t stand it. You poor, pampered little sheath, my souls just ache for you.” He sniffed in disdain. “Now, will you act like a competent woman for once in your life and end this sham?”
For the first time, the knife quivered slightly; her muscles tensed. She held his gaze, loathing and hatred in her large dark eyes. Her mouth worked, jaws clamping hard as she ground her teeth.
Then she abruptly tucked the knife into her lap, a defeated emptiness in a gaze gone vacant. “I would love nothing more, you Red Wing maggot. Every nerve in my body cries out to kill you.”
“Just do it. Spare us both the discomfort.”
She shook her head. “You’re part of the bargain. When a Spirit Beast tells you to do something…”
“Stop it! Your brother is just a man. Even in Red Wing town we heard about Chunkey Boy and the way he abused people. You were all Four Winds, spawn of the tonka’tzi and above punishment. No matter how heinous the crime. Nothing’s changed. He panders to you. A smile, a shrug on your part, and he’ll forgive you. Tell him I goaded you, insulted your virtue, called you names.”
For an instant she seemed confused. “Morning Star could care less.”