People of the Raven(151)

“Cimmis, when it became apparent that I wasn’t interested in leaving.”

“How did they capture you?”

“They didn’t. I surrendered to them at War Gods Village.” She stared thoughtfully at his wound. “Sometimes, the choices we make condemn us either way.”

“Why didn’t you warn the people at War Gods Village?”

She stared at him, a terrible pain in her eyes. “I had to choose between Coyote and all those people. To defeat Coyote, I had to be captured, had to be brought here under constant guard.”

“He’s that dangerous?”

“Stopping him may be more important than defeating the North Wind Council.”

Pitch nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “What of Astcat? She wasn’t what I expected.”

“Astcat is not well.”

He swallowed a bite of sea lion and said, “I know she’s supposed to have blank spells where her soul flies away, but she seemed fine when I spoke with her. Alert, intent on hearing my words.”

“Then she’s having a good day. That is not always the case. How did she react?”

“With shock and dismay. But not with the vehemence I was expecting. In my dread, I thought she’d scream and have me thrown out, maybe even order my death.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “But you came anyway?”

“It is a matter of Power. How could I have refused?”

On the eastern wall, two sacred bundles hung from the lodgepole. He scooped up his last succulent bite of meat and studied them while he ate. The bundle on the left was decorated with red and yellow circles, imitating the pattern of the Star People in the Wolf Pup constellation. An eye glared from the center of the bundle, black and glistening as though alive. Beside it, Dzoo’s Noisy One bundle hung. The miniature face of her Spirit Helper covered the leather. The Noisy One had empty white eyes, a black circle for a mouth, and a squat, hair-covered body. The longer Pitch looked at Dzoo’s sacred Power bundles, the more he felt their souls creeping around inside him, testing him to see if he was worthy to touch them, whispering just below his ability to hear.

She followed his gaze. “Ecan had them returned to me. I think he was having bad dreams while they were in his possession.”

Pitch set down his empty bowl and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Hallowed gods, that was good. Do you eat this way every night?”

“Living here is very much as I recall from my childhood. At dawn and dusk, slaves bring bowls of food, carry away waste bowls, deliver clean clothing, sweep and straighten the lodge. The only thing that’s really changed is they know the tribute is running out. They’ve been stockpiling it for many cycles, but it will be gone soon. Long ago, they wiped out the sparse resources on the mountain. Without tribute, they can’t survive here … . And the ghosts have changed.”

He reached for a seaweed cake. As he ate it, green crumbs trickled down the front of his white shirt. “How so?”

Her gaze fixed on the doorway. The curtain swung gently in the draught that constantly breathed up the mountain slope. “They used to be happy ghosts, going about their days laughing and talking. Now they’re frightened. They roam the village at night, crying, screaming the names of people I suspect are long gone.” Dzoo turned to look at him. “You’ll hear them. Just wait. They wake me every night.”

“You often hear things I don’t.” He finished his cake and wiped his hands on his red leggings. “What about Astcat? If she agrees to this marriage, it will drastically change the balance of Power. Imagine what the other North Wind People will do if she goes through with it.”

“I suspect they’ll assassinate her.”

Pitch ate another cake and studied the doorway. Past the door curtain, he could see one of the guards keeping his distance in the gathering dusk. The man kept shooting owlish glances at Dzoo’s lodge, as if he expected grizzly bears to bolt from the door at any instant.

Pitch whispered, “Why do you think Thunderbird told Tsauz this was the only way?”

“It probably is.”

“If she marries him, will the Raven People be content? Or do you think they will still demand the deaths of the North Wind People?” His wife and son were North Wind People. Pitch had already begun to plan his family’s escape. They would flee southward, perhaps run all the way to the Elderberry People … .

Dzoo said, “I can’t say.”

He brushed at the green crumbs on his shirt. “You know that Evening Star is trying to save Ecan, don’t you?”

Dzoo nodded. “Tell me about Evening Star and Rain Bear, Pitch. Are they … together?”