People of the Owl(223)

“I see.” A smile. “And after the feast, what? Politics with the Speakers?”

“Some. But after that, perhaps I would be interested in discussing some things with a Clan Elder’s daughter.”

“Yes, well, after last night it will be interesting to see just how long you can still paddle in my canoe, Speaker.”

“Let’s hope I’m not that decrepit.”

And then she was gone.

He stood for a moment, frowning down at the smoldering embers in the fire pit. Cane Frog was old. How many seasons did she have left anyway? Was it worth a marriage to Three Moss? Or would his interests be better served with a different alliance? Perhaps one of Deep Hunter’s nieces? True, they were all currently married, but, as he had come to understand so well, things could happen to a husband. Only this time, no crow was going to lead any hunter to the body.





Each time Pine Drop shot a glance in Water Stinger’s direction, she fumed. How dare her mother and uncle treat her like a common captive? By blood and pus, she was their daughter! A woman married to a Speaker, one who had provided her lineage and clan with an heir! Yet here she was, treated like an errant child, who, if she pushed the issue, would end up in public humiliation when her kinsman physically prohibited her from leaving her house.

Her fire popped and crackled in the bright morning light as she continued the chore of smoking the last of yesterday’s catch of fish.

It was but two days to the beginning of the solstice ceremonies. Sun Town had become a hive. People kept passing and calling solstice greetings to her. Some she knew, others were strangers. She played the game, keeping her voice light as she called polite responses. Reading their expressions, she realized that no one but her seemed aware that something sinister and brooding was being hatched. That gave her pause.

Night Rain ducked out of the house wearing a white kirtle belted at the waist. Her thick hair was parted, appropriate to her married status and pulled back over her shoulders. She had inserted long white heron feathers at an angle over her ears. As attractive as she looked, a single glance at her eyes would have been sufficient to discourage anyone from approaching her.

She walked over and crouched beside Pine Drop—so close that their thighs were touching. “We’re still captive!”

“Water Stinger insists on watching my every move.” Pine Drop reached over and tucked the cloth around her baby’s face where the infant slept in the cradleboard. “I threw a cooking clay at him when he insisted on following me down to the borrow pit. I don’t need my cousin peering up my rear as I squat.”

“He is under Uncle’s orders.” Night Rain made a face. “But I’ll take a cooking clay with me next time.”

“I got my revenge when I changed Tadpole after her feeding.”

“Tadpole?”

“It seemed more fitting for a little girl than Mud Puppy. Not only is she Salamander’s child, but each time Uncle hears the name, it’s going to drive him wild.”

“When did you decide this?”

“Last night. She’s old enough for a name, Night Rain. It’s been three moons since she was born. If her souls haven’t settled into her body, they never will. I think it’s safe to name her now.”

Night Rain ground her teeth as she studied Water Stinger. The young warrior leaned insolently against the house wall ten paces distant, face expressionless, arms crossed as he watched them.

“Why do you think Salamander killed Eats Wood?” Night Rain asked bluntly.

“If he killed Eats Wood—and we still don’t know for a fact that he did—I would wager a moon’s food that he had a good reason. Snakes! I wish I could just talk to him!”

“Did he ever flatly deny it?”

Pine Drop had been considering just that. “Now that you mention it, no. Thinking back, he very cleverly evaded the question. I need to talk to him.”

“Uncle doesn’t trust us when it comes to Salamander.”

“You were there. Did the ax really fit the wound?”

“Perfectly.” Night Rain shook her head. “I can’t believe I did this to him. If I’d taken Anhinga’s ax like Uncle wanted, it wouldn’t have fit. The shapes are different. I looked at them very closely.”

Pine Drop studied her sister. “I still don’t understand why you did that.”

Night Rain’s shoulders rose and fell. “I don’t either. Isn’t it silly? I just want everything to be like it was. I want us to be a family. You, me, Anhinga, and Salamander. I should hate them, but somehow I don’t. How did that happen?”

“You were happy,” Pine Drop said. “We all were. Salamander made it happen.”