People of the Owl(20)

As he said that, he extended his hand, holding the silt ball between his fingers as he placed it into the water. Hazel Fire watched as the lapping waves melted the ball into goo.





Five

Mud Puppy sat on a cane mat in the sunlight on the eastern side of his mother’s house. Images from the Dream the night before burned through him, replaying between his souls with such clarity that he might have just seen them spun out of the misty morning sunlight. A shiver ran down his bones. He could sense the lingering Power that emanated from Masked Owl. It had been so real!

Frown lines ate into his forehead when he stared down at the cricket. As long as his thumb from knuckle to nail tip, its shell gleamed midnight black in the cup bottom. The antennae were waving in sinuous arcs. But, despite his vigilance, the cricket refused to surrender its secret. Crickets and Sky Beings—they both eluded him.

“What have you got there?” Mother’s words caught him by surprise. He looked up, seeing her standing beside him, her arms braced on her hips, face shadowed. The morning sun blazed like white fire in her silvered hair. She had left it down this morning, and it hung over her shoulders. Her white skirt was belted about her hips, leaving her top bare. Mud Puppy could see the line of tattoos, like a chain that circled her sagging breasts and merged to make a double row that ran down the midline of her stomach to surround her navel.

“It’s a cricket,” he replied in a low voice, wary and unsure. He never knew how she was going to react.

“A cricket?” Wing Heart seemed distracted, her face reflecting no emotion. “What are you doing with it?”

He swallowed hard, knowing better than to lie to her. “I told you about it last night. A cricket is such a small animal. I was trying to see why it makes such a great noise. I’ve been waiting patiently for cricket to sing, then I will discover his secret. You told me that patience was the footprint of greatness.” He hoped that would win him a little goodwill. It pleased her to have him repeat her teachings. “When cricket sings, I’ll rip off the bass leaf and see how he makes his noise.”

She chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment, then reached out with one hand. “Give it to me.”

Reluctantly, he extended the little gray ceramic cup with its bassleaf cover. She took it, removed the leaf, and stared down into the cup. “A cricket.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Do you understand that your brother has returned? Did you see him last night? Are you aware of what he’s done?”

“I was at the landing last night. Me and Little Needle—”

“Ah, Little Needle. I’d wager that but for Little Needle you wouldn’t have had the slightest notion that anything was afoot, would you?”

He didn’t answer, lowering his gaze to the dark-stained earth at his feet. A bit of red chert gleamed in the sunlight, an old perforator; someone had broken the tip off and discarded it. It seemed to wink maliciously at him.

“What am I going to do with you?” Mother asked plaintively. “I swear by Mother Sun, I could almost believe that Back Scratch and Mud Stalker knew in advance that you would come of it when they sent Thumper to my bed. I could almost believe that they paid the Serpent to cast a spell on the man’s testicles. Thumper’s not a dolt, and neither am I, so how did our union   produce you?”

Mud Puppy winced, his heart hurting at the tone in her voice. He kept his eyes focused on the bit of gleaming red chert so out of place in the black dirt. Was it trying to talk to him? Was that why it was winking so?

“All you do is waste time.” Wing Heart lifted her arms in supplication. “Do you not understand how close we came to disaster? It is not enough that your uncle’s Dream Soul has fled? What if he had lost his Life Soul as well? What if White Bird hadn’t come back in triumph?” She squatted, lifting his chin with one hand to glare into his eyes. “Do you understand that we are the last in our line to dominate the Council? Do you understand that if we lose that, we are nothing? That we will be just like everyone else?”

“Is that so bad?” he whispered.

“Is that so bad?” she mimicked his voice. “Very well, I’ll explain it to you one … more … time.” She paused as if searching for the right words. “As you live your life, Mud Puppy, you will want things. Perhaps it will be a certain woman, though Mother Sun knows, I should be so lucky given your proclivities. When that happens, you must have the position, the prominence among others, and the outstanding obligation to be granted that desire. You like to quote my lessons back to me, very well, quote this one: With obligation comes prestige. With prestige comes authority. With authority comes gratification.”