“That day—if it comes, Eats Wood—is a long way off.”
“It is said that you had a chance to divorce Speaker Salamander.”
“Any woman has a chance to divorce, Cousin. That’s a little fact that I hope you keep in your head when and if you do marry.” She arched a challenging eyebrow.
He grinned sheepishly. “Yes, I know.” Then he sobered. “Why do you stay with him?”
“I have my reasons, Cousin. Among them, because of who he is.”
“He is a Speaker in name only. You could have—”
“I wasn’t referring to his title.”
“Most people think he is a fool, Cousin.”
She considered him frankly and lowered her voice. “They are wrong, Eats Wood. I may be speaking to emptiness, but I want you to listen to me. Do not underestimate Salamander. I tell you that as a kinsman.”
His round brown eyes didn’t register any comprehension. “He’s got that Swamp Panther woman for a wife. You could have anyone else you wanted.”
“He has his reasons for marrying her.”
“She was here before. She is the one his brother caught down at Ground Cherry Camp.”
“So?”
“Cousin, look what we did to her and her friends!” He leaned close. “You are part of his household, don’t you hear things about her? About what she’s after here?”
“You mean, does my husband trust her?”
“Yes.”
“Not completely.”
“She goes away every moon.”
“Of course she does. Think it through, Eats Wood. Would you want her here during her moon? Hmm? Bleeding where any man, yourself included, might step in it? No, I suspect you would have her gone, far away, where her woman’s blood won’t make you ill.”
“What’s wrong with the Women’s House? She can go there for her moon with all the rest.”
“Put yourself in her place. Would you want to be shut up in the men’s Society House in the middle of the Panther’s Bones? Would you want to be surrounded by their suspicious warriors for days? Would you want to hear them snicker at your expense?”
He stared suspiciously at her. “I’ll bet she meets with her Swamp Panther kin, what will you bet?”
“She has no friends here. If I were in her position, I would want to see kin, too.”
He seemed perplexed. “You don’t seem at all worried.”
“I will worry when I have reason to.” She gave him a sidelong look. “But why are you so interested in her?”
He spread his hands, trying to look casual.
“Uh-huh,” she answered. “One of these days, Cousin, you are going to be like Father Moon. Some woman will possess your thoughts and lead you into a mess you can’t find your way out of.”
“She’s dangerous,” he muttered uncomfortably. “You just watch, Cousin. She’s going to get you into trouble before she’s done here.”
Wind howled in the thatch, poking cold fingers through the gap where the roof overhung the walls. It made a soft whistle as it blew around the house. Gusts shook the structure, cracking the wattle and daub. This wasn’t a night to be out.
Salamander lay awake under the snug buffalo robe and stared up at the darkness. Anhinga cuddled next to him, her warm rump pressed against the angle of his hip and thigh. Cold air played patterns across his face, tickling loose strands of Anhinga’s hair against his cheeks.
Turning his head, he could hear the soft rattle as leaves blew past. From the flapping sounds, the palmetto matting that roofed his mother’s ramada was shredding and would have to be replaced.
His house shivered under a particularly hard blast. In his bones he could feel the storm’s strength as it blew down from the north.
He blinked, wishing he could sleep with Anhinga’s soundness. Instead, images flashed through his mind. Bits of the Dream that had awakened him replayed over and over. He had been flying, sailing across the sky on Owl wings. A black shadow had blotted the sun, and talons had ripped painfully through his back. In that instant he was falling, the ground spiraling as though rising to meet him.
Breath had frozen in his lungs, his throat locked. His stomach had lurched, weightless, falling, plummeting like a carved piece of hematite. The air rushing past had become the roar of the winter wind outside his house before he plunged headfirst into Sun Town’s earthen plaza. At the last instant he had jerked awake.
“What?” Anhinga had murmured, shifting on their narrow bed.
“Nothing. A Dream. Sleep.” He had patted her shoulder as she slipped her arm from across his chest and rolled onto her side facing the wall.