“He must have known the lodges were filled with dead people.”
At death, the soul seeped out with the last breath, but it remained close to the body, not certain where to go or what to do until it was ritually prepared. Often the soul thought it was still alive and tried to speak with the living. Evening Star was right. Only a very foolish or desperate boy would dare risk having a lonely ghost tap him on the shoulder and start asking questions.
“And he’s blind,” he reminded her. “Maybe he’s afraid to leave his hiding place for fear he might fall, or get lost?”
“That could be.”
He looked down at the distant shoreline and could see the wide swath of muddy water that hemmed the beach. As the Ice Giants melted, more and more freshwater flooded the drainages and poured into the sea. The mud had already destroyed most of their shellfish beds and killed the algae and seaweed they used to gather. They could still trade for such items, but how long would that last? The mud dissipated as it flowed southward along the coast, but it still did damage.
Wind Woman swept the hair away from Evening Star’s face. She tipped her chin up and closed her eyes, as though concentrating on the scent of the sea. “Two moons ago, when my village was destroyed, my baby was in my arms. I could hear my husband screaming behind me, ordering me to run. But there were too many of them; escape was cut off. Before it was over, my husband was killed before my eyes, and my daughter’s screams haunted my ears. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was alone—truly alone for the first time in my life.” She drew up her knees and propped her arms upon them. “That’s how Tsauz is feeling now. No one, especially a child, should ever have to feel that way.”
“We’ll keep looking.”
She rested her chin on her arms. “What is happening to us, Great Chief? Why are we doing this to ourselves?”
“Perhaps this is an age of madness, a shifting, a transition?”
She tilted her head to peer into his eyes. “Your people are still coming for the ceremonial tomorrow. They’ll be packed shoulder to shoulder on this narrow mountaintop. If anyone finds the boy, he’ll be torn to pieces.”
“We’ll find him before then.” He hesitated. “Evening Star, what do you think Cimmis is planning?”
She straightened on the rock and turned to peer directly into his eyes. “I can tell you this: He did not attack War Gods Village just because Matron Weedis refused to pay the tribute she owed.”
“Why else would he have attacked?
“It was meant to force you into a corner and discourage you from striking back.”
Rain Bear’s gaze drifted over the burned lodges below. Every time he looked at them, he imagined his own village in charred ruins, strewn with dead bodies. He could almost hear Cimmis whispering, “Do you want Sandy Point Village to look like this? If you attack, I promise you it will.”
He asked, “If we capture Tsauz, what will Ecan do?”
As dusk turned to night, the warriors who stood guard began to light campfires. Orange dots glittered to life on the surrounding hills.
“Ecan is not a fool.” She shivered, and Rain Bear wondered if it was from cold, or the strain of discussing Ecan. “He’ll be crafty.”
“Will he negotiate?”
“You mean will he agree to spare your village in return for his son’s life?” Her delicate red brows pinched. “He might, but only as a diversion.”
“A diversion?”
“Something to keep you busy while his personal assassins get in place.” Gently, she said, “He’ll try to kill your family, Rain Bear. Pick off your daughter first, or maybe your grandson, then your most trusted aides. Finally, they’ll murder the village elders. Sooner or later, you will understand that it’s cheaper to return the boy unharmed.”
A cold wave seemed to flow out of his chest into his fingers and toes. “Perhaps I should kill the boy when we find him.”
“If you can … you should.”
It was the way she’d whispered the words. Utterly serious, as though she knew from experience. “Why do you say that?”
“Ecan will be betting that no matter what he’s done to you, you can’t kill an innocent child. He’ll be counting on that. So you must decide now, before you find him, can you kill an innocent boy?”
Sunlight shone from her shell earrings and twinkled in her hair.
Rain Bear slid off the flat rock and walked a few paces away. Hornet and Wolf Spider watched him, faces expressionless.
Kill a blind boy? How? He wasn’t that sort of man. And if he didn’t kill the child? Suppose one of Talon’s elders was murdered: He would demand that the boy be killed to punish Ecan. Rain Bear would then have to refuse. That would set one village against another. People would take sides. If they had managed to build an alliance, it would crumble to dust before his eyes.