People of the Nightland(47)
“Where?”
“No one knows.” She took another bite, wolfing the hot meat. Mouth full, she said, “Lookingbill has sent runners out, offering sanctuary to any Sunpath People who need it.” She met Kakala’s eyes. “We’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest. The woman who drove a dart into Maga was Mossy, their Storyteller.”
“Lookingbill’s daughter.” Kakala’s heart sank. Raven take him, the old chief would never forgive them.
“How’s Maga?” she asked.
“He has sent his soul to Raven.”
She nodded. No one survived a gut wound like that.
“Anything else?” Kakala asked.
“Some sort of alliance was brokered between Windwolf and Lookingbill. I managed to slip close to several fires last night. People are talking about it, but no one seems to know the details.” She gave him a horrified look. “Perhaps the chiefs don’t trust us with such knowledge?”
Kakala sighed, shoulders sagging. “Then there is nothing else for us to do but return … and face the consequences.”
All eyes lowered, fixed on the fire.
Keresa continued to eat, no doubt thinking she’d need to stock up before a couple of moons in the cages. Then she looked up. “Well, we could always run off and join Windwolf. He doesn’t punish good warriors.”
Kakala arched his back. “This is all my fault.” He looked around, meeting the eyes of his warriors. “I think the rest of you should stay out here. Under Keresa’s command, you should keep looking for Windwolf.”
The warriors looked back and forth at each other.
It was Keresa who said, “ … And you will go in and take all the blame?”
Kakala nodded. “I survived the cages once. I can do it again.”
He could see confused relief mixed with sudden guilt on his warriors’ faces.
“No!” Keresa said adamantly. “We did just as we were ordered. Nashat himself sent us out as a small party to capture one man. Had Nashat allowed us to take all of our warriors—as we thought prudent—the outcome would have been very different.”
Kakala arched an eyebrow. “Let me get this straight. You want to walk in, heads held high, and tell Nashat and the Council it was their mistake?”
She narrowed an eye. “Why not?”
“They’ll order Karigi to kill us all.”
“Let him try.” Keresa didn’t budge.
Corre asked, “Are we talking about fighting with our own people?”
“No,” Kakala muttered. But he had to admit the idea of driving a dart into Karigi had a certain appeal. “We do it my way. I’ll go in. The rest of you continue the search for Windwolf. He’s probably headed back to find his warriors. No matter what happens to me, I want you to locate Windwolf, keep an eye on his warriors, and report back. If they are joining up with Lookingbill, we need to know. That’s more important than any of us.” He met their eyes, one by one. “That’s an order from your war chief.”
Keresa gave him a sour look. “Sometimes I wonder who the enemy really is.”
An avalanche of boulders littered the slope that Skimmer and Ashes climbed. Frosted by starlight, the boulders resembled monstrous wind-sculpted statues.
It looks like a broken garden of the Spirits. She blinked, fighting the sudden tremble in her hands. Like the ruins of my own soul.
Her daughter trudged up the slope behind her. “It’s scary here. I don’t like it.”
“No. Me either.
Many of the boulders looked like upraised fists, others like angry faces, their raging expressions long ago quieted by the storms. She shook herself, trying to rid the images of dead women in the moonlight, their crushed faces staring … .
“Mother, could we rest for a while?”
“Just a little farther; then we’ll rest.”
Ashes suddenly gasped, and high overhead one of the Meteor People streaked across the night sky, leaving a luminous trail.
“He’s headed toward the Ice Giants,” Ashes breathed in awe.
Let him. Skimmer watched until he’d sailed out of sight, then continued the climb. When she reached a fallen log near the crest, she sat down. Her blood-soaked cape hung stiffly, and her waist-length hair fell over her shoulders in gore-matted tangles.
Ashes wiped a sleeve under her running nose and sat down hard beside her. In the starlight, her eyes shone gray-blue.
“Where’s Headswift Village?” she asked.
Skimmer pointed. “We’ll be there tomorrow night.”
“I wish we were there now. I’m hungry.”
Wind Woman whistled up the path, and Skimmer closed her eyes against the sting of wind-whipped sand. Yes, pelt me, make me hurt. At least with pain, I can feel something.