People of the Nightland(90)
She shook her head, picking up the meat again. Her stomach had started to ache again; perhaps filling it would help. “We’re not going to tell you anything.”
“Then what are you doing here? You asked for this meeting.”
“I …” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I need your help.”
His dark eyes glittered as though he was wondering how she had the guts to ask.
Keresa swallowed the last of the succulent elk. When she looked up, she found him watching her like a cat at a mouse hole. “We need water. We drank all that remained in our water bags yesterday.”
He thumped his finger against his cup. “And what will I get in return?”
Keresa swallowed hard. “I’ll order my warriors to lay down their weapons; then I’ll turn the weapons over to you.”
“All of them? No tricks?”
“No tricks.”
A suave brutality tinged his voice when he asked, “And will your warriors obey you?”
Keresa glared. “Yes.”
He smiled as though intrigued by the entire conversation. “Let me make certain I understand. I’ll give you water, and you’ll willingly become my prisoners. Is that it?”
“Willingly? I said we’d give you our weapons, not our hearts. We’ll fight to the last to kill you and escape. We’ll just have to use our hands to do it.”
“These are the kind of warriors the Nightland Council would put in a cage?” A small smile touched his lips. “I agree to give you water.”
She bowed her head in relief. “One other thing.”
“Yes?”
“Kakala … I fear he may be dying. While I know this may not disappoint you, it does me. If there is a Healer in this village, I would appreciate—”
“If I send a Healer to care for him, what will I get in return?”
“What do you want?”
He drummed his fingers on his cup, as though trying to decide. “A map of the Nightland Caves.”
The boldness of the request made her laugh. “Is that all?”
“No. It’s just the beginning.” His face showed no more emotion than a dead panther’s.
“I can’t do that,” she said. “And my map wouldn’t be much good to you anyway. I—”
“If it wouldn’t be any good, what’s the harm in giving it to me?”
“I’ve been in the caves a few times, but I know only the main passageways. There are tens of tens that I’ve never seen. You don’t want a map from me.”
He looked regretful. “Then I can’t send a Healer.”
Fear soured her belly. She wasn’t sure Kakala would survive without a Healer. Nor was she sure he’d survive with one. Windwolf’s blow may have crushed his skull, and he was already dead; his body just didn’t know it.
She said, “I’ll draw you a map of the main passageways. After the Healer treats Kakala.”
“A true map. No tricks?”
“I give you my word.” She frowned before saying, “I won’t have to worry about the Healer murdering Kakala in his sleep, will I?”
“I’ll make certain the Healer understands that will be my privilege, and mine alone.”
Bizarrely, that made her feel better. “I thank you for the food and drink.”
She rose to her feet, and he quickly got up to face her. He takes no chances … .
He reeled slightly before he caught himself. Even in exhaustion, his physical presence was daunting. He moved with a leashed power that made her wish she had her war club in her fist.
As she walked for the mouth of the rockshelter, he said, “I have one question for you.”
She stopped and turned. “What is it?”
He stared at her, and it went straight to her soul.
“Is Goodeagle in the cave with you?”
She blinked, surprised. That means there are other caves where my warriors are trapped? How many? She remembered Goodeagle screaming at her, asking her what they were going to do. “No. I don’t know where he is.”
She couldn’t read his expression when he said, “That must mean he’s dead.” Then he called, “Fish Hawk, the deputy is leaving.”
Fish Hawk drew the curtain aside and said, “Come with me.”
Before she exited, she looked at him. Their gazes held.
Just beneath that calm confident surface … he was as terrified as she was.
Thirty-eight
In an endless gray, Silvertip thought: I am.
The sensation was of floating, rising and falling, buoyed by something.
“You are,” a voice told him from the gray. “You can only be after you have ceased being everything else.”
The odd lack of sensation surprised him. He couldn’t feel cold or heat, just being.