“What about Goodeagle. Did he … did he survive?”
She stopped pacing to stare down at him. “Did you want him to?”
“Not really. I just … thought he might suddenly … be of use.”
Keresa laughed, but it was a strange, near-desperate sound. Since he felt the same way, he chuckled with her—and instantly regretted it. His head shattered like a block of ice dropped from a mountaintop.
She said, “Windwolf did say something that made me think he might be alive.”
“What?”
“He asked me if Goodeagle was in this chamber with us, which made me think he meant there were other chambers where our warriors were being held.”
“Keresa … when possible … try to find Goodeagle … . Get organized.”
He thought he saw Keresa run a hand through her hair, but it was a splotch-on-splotch movement so he couldn’t be sure. Her voice came out soft, strained. “I’ve missed you, Kakala.”
He smiled. “You … scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Don’t be. Windwolf … may have taken … us hostage, but he can’t … can’t hold us. We’ll escape.”
“I think you’re right. If he keeps taking in more and more refugees, it won’t be long. When the people here are going hungry, tensions will rise. He’ll have his hands full just managing his own refugees’ quarrels. And it won’t be long until the Nightland Elders realize we haven’t returned from this raid. We might be dead before they get here, but surely—”
“No … we won’t.”
She took a deep breath and spread her feet, looking like she’d just braced herself for hand-to-hand combat.
“You have more faith in our Elders than I do.” A treasonous tone invaded her voice.
Why did she do that to him? It set him on edge, and she knew it.
He lay still, thinking until he felt the silence so desperately he knew he had to get up—get the warriors organized. He pushed up on his elbows, and a sharp pain nearly fragmented his skull. He fell back weakly, thoughts rolling, jumbling, pieces of images swirling, slips of different voices shouting … .
Keresa watched him writhe; her fists clenched in futility. She should have let him sleep. But she’d needed to talk to him, to bolster her own flagging spirits.
Many of her warriors were awake now. Their eyes gleamed in the faint slivers of light that fell through the boulders.
“Hako?” Kakala called. “Don’t … don’t leave me.” He feebly lifted a hand, reaching out.
Keresa felt like she intruded on some private memory, but she knelt and—
Footsteps grated on the rocks above, probably warriors changing watches, but in Kakala’s soul they were enemy warriors.
“No!” he screamed. “No! Don’t! Oh, gods, not … our fault!” He raised his hands to his head, squeezing hard as he tossed from side to side.
“Kakala,” she called. “It’s Keresa. You’re here with me. You’re safe!” What a lie that was.
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head, as though clearing the feverish fog. “No. Even if we … Hako?”
He turned toward her, and the soft pained look in his usually hard eyes made her feel like he’d ripped her guts out.
“Kakala,” she assured him, “Calm down. Try to sleep.”
“No, I … I’m frightened, Hako. I—I don’t … Hold me?”
He weakly lifted his arms to her. She sat down and let him wrap his arms around her.
Warriors whispered, and she didn’t like the sound of their voices.
“You’re safe, Kakala. Get some sleep.”
He tightened his arms around her back and feebly pulled her against his chest, tenderly rubbing his chin in her hair. “Never safe … no … never.”
Drained from his outburst, he blinked wearily and drifted off. His arms slowly slid back to his sides.
Keresa got up and looked around the chamber, her eyes squinted. “Any warrior here who thinks what I just did makes me weak had better never turn his back on me.”
Laughter rose. Some of the tension eased.
Footsteps grated above her again, and this time there were voices.
She looked up as one of the boulders was rolled aside.
Windwolf loomed tall and hard-eyed in the moonlight. A shorter man stood behind him, a bag beneath his arm. “Deputy,” Windwolf greeted. “How’s the war chief?”
“Bad.”
“I’ve brought the Healer, Flathead, again. Just like last time, before he comes down I want all of your warriors to gather on the far side of the chamber.”