He dipped his fingers in the water cup and dribbled it into Astcat’s lax mouth.
“Swallow, my wife. Please, swallow.”
He tenderly massaged her throat, but she didn’t respond. She’d suffered a seizure at dusk and had been shaking periodically for the past hand of time as though her soul hovered somewhere high above and was preparing to leave for good.
Blessed Song Maker, is she dying this time?
Though he’d been trying to prepare himself for such an event, he hadn’t done a very good job. At the thought she might die, his heart had begun to pound so hard he thought it might burst his ribs.
Kstawl gathered the cooking bags she needed to prepare a soup of dried onions, pink fawn lily bulbs, and rice root. Astcat’s favorite. Cimmis hoped the rich, sweet smell would draw her soul back.
He rocked Astcat in his arms, and his soul continued to shred. Was she trying to take him with her to the House of Air? He’d seen it happen to people who loved each other more than life. Within a few days of one’s death, the other followed.
Cimmis buried his face in her gray hair and whispered, “Come back, my wife. Just for a short time. There are things I must do here before I can go with you.”
Kstawl looked expectantly toward the door, and Cimmis lifted his head.
A voice from outside called, “I announce the arrival of Old Woman North. She would speak with Chief Cimmis.”
Kstawl turned to him, and he nodded.
She walked to the door flap and pulled it back. “Please enter, Old Woman North.”
The ancient woman’s walking stick appeared first, followed by her shriveled face. Wind Woman had teased her thin gray hair around her head, turning it into a spiky mass of tangles. She wore an elaborately painted cape that bore the mythological images of the War Gods, Song Maker, and Old Woman Underneath Us, who held up the world.
Old Woman North’s faded eyes glanced from Astcat to Cimmis, and her mouth puckered. “A runner just arrived,” she said in her hoarse dictatorial voice. “Ecan’s party has arrived safely at War Gods Village. I thought you would wish to know in case we must prepare for an attack.”
“An attack?” he asked in surprise.
“The Raven People are wild animals, Cimmis. Wolves with fangs. As it is, they need no reason to tear out our throats, but our plan will drive them into an insane rage.”
“Elder, I assure you, they will be far more concerned with where we are going to attack next.”
“Is that so?” she said tartly.
“Having second thoughts, are you? I would hope not. It’s too late—even the fastest runner can’t get there in time to stop your orders.”
She studied him through faded eyes. “Yes, well, if you had been present at the Council for the entire meeting, you might know that our faith in both the plan and the Starwatcher is undiminished.”
Cimmis gently slipped from beneath Astcat and tucked a rolled hide under her head. Before he rose, he smoothed his fingers down her cheek to let her know he was coming back soon.
Cimmis straightened his knee-length blue shirt and bowed respectfully. “Forgive me for leaving the Council meeting so abruptly, but as you see, I was needed here.”
She glanced at Astcat. “I think it could be argued that you would have done more good in the Council meeting, Chief Cimmis.”
Cimmis clenched his fists at his sides—better there than around the old woman’s neck. “That may be, Elder, but if Ecan has arrived at War Gods Village, there is little I can do until we know the outcome. If he is successful—”
“Of course he will be successful,” she interrupted. “We must think about what comes after. What do we do next?”
“Next?”
The deep lines around Old Woman North’s eyes tightened. “If you had been in Council, you would understand that question.”
“I will return this instant if you wish me to.”
“The Council is over. We made our decision without you.”
“What decision, Elder?”
“I had a vision. I waited until the end of the Council to speak of it.”
What? Another one?
“A vision?” Cimmis said.
“This morning just before I woke. We must leave for Wasp Village in eight days.”
“Eight days!” he said in shock. “But that is not wise, Elder! Please reconsider. After Ecan’s attacks, the Raven People will be waiting for a chance to murder us all.”
“There is safety in numbers. We’ll all go at once—one procession encircled by our warriors. Wasp Village will be our fortress.”
The old hag had decided she would be the new leader of the Council, had she? Well, he’d see about that. “Elder, it would be safer to send a few people at a time. A large party is too convenient a target.”