People of the Owl(187)
She froze, a prickle running through her as their eyes met. Her souls began to tingle. She could swear that she could not only feel her own heartbeat, but that of her daughter deep in her womb.
Time seemed to swoon, silvering and shifting around her like vision through clear moving water.
She sensed rather than saw the owl spread its wings. The giant bird drifted down, silent, its wings enlarging until they filled the sky. To the last moment she stared into the liquid depths of those huge brown eyes, and then, as if with a snap, the owl was gone. Vanished.
She spun on her feet, staring behind her—and saw nothing. The clear gray air was empty.
Snakes! Where did it go? How could such a big bird have just disappeared into the air? Her throat had tightened, her mouth become dry. She could feel her blood, bursting through her with each pounding of her heart.
Resuming the climb took every resource and all of the courage she could muster. She laid a hand on one of the ramada poles, panting for breath, and looked up at the great mound’s peak.
She could see him sitting there, legs crossed on the summit, his head back, eyes closed. His hands rested, palms up, on his bent knees. Morning dew had settled on his black hair, turning it silver.
The expression on his face stopped her. He had a beatific look, a lax smile on his lips. He might have been savoring some taste, perhaps a sweet squash flavored with honeysuckle that lay so delicately on the tongue.
Filling her lungs, she forced her weary legs up the last slope and lowered herself quietly to sit beside him. Every muscle in her body vibrated like a stretched cord. An electric sensation, like that from rubbed fur, crackled along her nerves.
She swallowed hard and studied him. What sort of man are you, Husband? Does Power flow through you like sap, or is it a madness?
Salamander seemed oblivious, so locked away in his visions that nothing else existed in the world.
She waited, turning her eyes to the eastern horizon and the reddening beyond the distant tree line. The bulge of the sun slowly emerged from behind the forest’s bulk. She sighed, unconsciously reaching out for Mother Sun’s light, as if she could grab hold of those first glorious rays and scrub the darkness from her souls.
“It is glorious, isn’t it?” Salamander barely spoke above a whisper.
She spared him a glance. His eyes remained closed, the blissful look on his face.
“Yes.” She took a breath to still her souls. “Look how far north it has moved since the solstice. We are forest people, Husband. Knowing that Mother Sun moves across the sky is one thing, actually seeing it makes the stories about her come true.”
He remained as calm as a rock, unmoving, his hands still on his knees as though supporting something in the air.
“I saw Masked Owl,” she told him nervously. “I think I sacred him away.”
“You did not scare him.”
She shifted, pulling her kirtle around so that it didn’t chafe her pendulous belly. “Does he always come when you call him?”
“No. He came to see me. He is worried.”
“About what?”
“About my new Spirit Helper. She has changed the balance between Masked Owl and Many Colored Crow. The future is no longer certain, Pine Drop. They don’t know what I am going to choose.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, choose?”
His smile was sad. “Nothing comes without a price.”
She ground her teeth for a moment, then asked, “Husband? I must ask you something. It is very important to me.”
“I am not a witch. Masked Owl is not evil. I seek to harm no one.”
A flood of relief washed through her. “Then you have heard the talk?”
“No. You are the first to mention it to me.”
She flinched, unsettled. “You are becoming ever more strange, Salamander. Power is growing in you, and it frightens me.”
“You are a wise woman.”
“I don’t feel very wise these days, Husband. Things are happening. A trap is being built for you, and I can sense the cords that run to the deadfall trigger. I can feel people tugging on them. If they pull the trigger loose, the weight is going to fall and crush you.”
“I Dance on such a thin edge,” he whispered. Sunlight flooded his face, washing his delicate skin in red. He looked so young and fragile. “I’m scared, Pine Drop. If I slip and fall, it will be into a horrible nightmare. The worst thing is, it isn’t just me. It is you and Night Rain and Anhinga and Water Petal. One misstep on my part can destroy you all.”
She clenched her fists. “The clans are moving against you.”
“Wife, it would be so sweet if my only concern was the clans. Masked Owl would have me believe that the One and the Dance are all that matter. The One is so Powerful. It calls to me. It would be so easy to give in. To find happiness like Mother did. The only thing that calls me back is you, Pine Drop. My wives and my daughters. They need me. The People need me.”