People of the Morning Star(93)
Night Shadow Star had been a target all of her life. The Four Winds Houses—and half of the Earth Clans—had plotted, wheedled, or cajoled to elevate their status by marrying one of their young men to her. Nor had Matron Wind; Tonka’tzi Red Warrior; his wife, White Pot; or even the Morning Star hesitated to dangle her future as a potential prize in the political gamesmanship that was Cahokian politics.
They’d forced her into the company of her troublesome brothers—the only “safe” males she’d been allowed to associate with. And in the process, the boys had turned her into something of a feral young woman with their archery, stickball, chunkey, and club-fights.
At least until the Morning Star had been reincarnated in Chunkey Boy’s body. And then something had happened. Something more than just the sacrifice of Chunkey Boy’s souls. That, after all, had been inevitable; Chunkey Boy had willingly stepped forward, his entire life having prepared him for the moment he would surrender his body to the god.
Whatever had happened in the aftermath, Night Shadow Star’s relationship with her brothers had exploded the way a wet ball of clay blew up in a too-hot fire. Chunkey Boy, of course, was gone, his disregard for others and his dark moods consumed by the god. To Night Shadow Star it had to have been like a death; except her brother’s familiar body remained alive, visible every day as the god wore it around like a suit of clothing.
The night after the ritual that resurrected Morning Star’s body into Chunkey Boy had been completed, and the god had retired to his palace to rest, Night Shadow Star had presented herself at the Four Winds Clan’s Women’s House to undergo her transition from girl to womanhood. Through the four-day period, she’d been quiet, self-absorbed, as if possessed of a Spirit not her own.
Looking at her now, Blue Heron wondered what, if anything, had changed to cause that first menstruation. Her niece had been peculiar, withdrawn, and distracted, as if her souls entertained more than just themselves within that lithe and healthy young body.
It’s a miracle any of us can still function as human beings.
“Niece,” she said aloud, “why did you risk offending the Morning Star and take it upon yourself to cut down the Red Wing? You ordered me to find that miscreant, Seven Skull Shield. What specifically did Piasa tell you?”
Night Shadow Star’s eyes seemed to enlarge, and she smiled slightly as she gave her aunt a careful inspection. “Piasa doesn’t confide in me. I am only his tool.”
“You’re the tonka’tzi’s daughter! Perhaps even the future Matron of the Four Winds Clan.”
“And Piasa is the undisputed lord of the Underworld.”
Blue Heron glared into Night Shadow Star’s eerie eyes, reading the insistence there. In a low voice she said, “I wonder how First Woman takes such statements? Discovering that Piasa is the ‘undisputed lord’ of her realm must be disconcerting.”
Night Shadow Star tilted her head as she laughed. “Who do you think carries First Woman’s orders about the Underworld and enforces her will? They are entwined. Part of the same creative and destructive Power. First Woman sits in her cave at the bottom of the world, dreaming her dreams. And through them flow Piasa, the Horned Serpent, the Tie Snakes, fish, and turtles. The life-souls of the dead bow and offer their respect as they seek the ancestors who have preceded them. And through it all, Power beats like a great heart, all subject to First Woman’s will.”
“You speak like a priest,” Blue Heron muttered.
“Only because you ask questions for which there are no answers.” Night Shadow Star cocked her head suggestively. “When I was Dancing in the Underworld, Piasa seized my souls, crushed them out of my body … and swallowed them.”
“Like Bird Man is said to have done to the great priestess Lichen?”
Night Shadow Star shrugged. “Only Lichen herself could have answered that. I am Piasa’s creature.”
“If that’s the case, he’s not taking very good care of you. You’d think Piasa would have given you some warning before that attack last night.”
“I felt a sudden chill. Nothing more.” She raised a hand. “Aunt, you have to understand. We’re at the center of a struggle for more than just our lives. This is a battle over Power and its uses. The resurrection of the Morning Star came as a shock to the foundations of our world. Cahokia, by the miracle of its existence, has changed everything. The tremors continue to shake the Underworld. Unease breathes its way through the Sky World, unsettling Thunder Beasts, upsetting Grandfather Sun’s path through the sky, and Moon Woman’s soft glow.”