People of the Raven(95)
Ecan dropped back to walk at her side. “Just pass. Don’t speak.”
Dzoo smiled, turning her head to call, “Beware the blood-streaked man! He has stones for eyes.”
People started, stiffening, frowning, as they puzzled over her words. Confusion and worry grew bright in their eyes.
Ecan gaped in disbelief, then raised his hand to strike her. It wavered in the air, quivering like a stressed sapling before he lowered it. “You take dangerous chances.”
He stamped ahead. Perhaps he had second thoughts; for he dropped back once more to parallel her course. She cataloged the furtive glances he cast her way, wondering how long it would take.
“What blood-streaked man? What were you talking about?”
“You needn’t worry. You won’t live long enough to stare into his stony eyes.”
“Ah, yes, my impending death again.” He pointed to the path that led around the base of the palisade. “Come on. The sooner we arrive, the sooner you can sleep.”
As they curved around Salmon Village and climbed higher up the mountain trail, the Fire Village palisade came into view.
“I had forgotten,” she whispered in awe.
“Forgotten what?”
“The paintings.”
They had been painted on hides stretched over the corduroy of the palisade wall. The bodies of the gods winked and flashed, as though encrusted with fallen stars. To create the effect, the artisans glued bits of crushed shell to the surface of the paintings of Gutginsa, Old Woman Above, Ogre, Killer Whale, Sea Cow, and Wolf.
“I’d forgotten their beauty.”
For many summers after she’d arrived at the squalid lodges of the Striped Dart People, dreams of Fire Village had kept her alive. How could she have forgotten?
Her gaze moved to the gate, where two warriors leaned against the palisade. Just inside, her mother’s lodge had stood to the right. Was it still there?
Ecan’s eyes had an anticipatory gleam. “You are almost home.”
Dzoo gazed at the towering lava cliff behind Fire Village. In the afternoon light its shadow cut upward, darkening the mountain. She could feel Power—but it was faint. Shreds crept from the lava and the high snow-patched cinder cone where once it had been a flood. What had happened here? Why had the Power fled? Dzoo concentrated on pulling the shreds around her like a protective cloak.
She asked, “Who killed it? Was it you, Starwatcher?”
“Killed what?”
“The Power. It used to run across my skin like rubbed fox fur.”
His eyes tightened. “Cimmis told me the Power vanished when his daughter, Tlikit, decided to run away with Rain Bear.”
It was strange to hear someone say her name. Cimmis had declared Tlikit Outcast, dead, and ordered that her name be forgotten. It was a crime to speak it.
“This is not Tlikit’s work, Starwatcher.” She cocked her head, raising her hands to the air. “No, I think the slow rot of human souls has led to this.”
The guards stepped back, and hands still up, Dzoo walked through the gate into the village. Brown-cloaked slaves stood everywhere, watching her. In an instant, someone recognized her, and the word “Dzoo!” was whispered from person to person.
As she remembered, the bark lodges made a perfect circle around the central Council Lodge. Paintings decorated every wall. As she neared a painting of Buffalo Above, it occurred to her that the artist had mixed crushed obsidian with his paint to create the god’s shimmering hair. The white eyes must contain crushed clamshells; they glittered as though alive.
Her mother’s lodge still stood just inside the gate. It looked smaller than she remembered. Someone had converted it to storage.
A tall man ducked out of the last lodge near the lava cliff. She remembered it as belonging to Astcat, the matron. The tall man shielded his eyes to look in their direction. A gossamer blue cape billowed around him.
“Is that Cimmis?”
Apprehension strained Ecan’s face. “That’s him.”
Another man, shorter and fatter, ducked through the door hanging behind the chief. “Cimmis and the leader of the Big Tail Clan,Tudab. Prepare yourself, witch. Cimmis ordered me to take no captives.”
“Then perhaps I will be able to watch you die sooner than I had anticipated. I would enjoy that.”
“I wasn’t worried about me, Dzoo.” He straightened his long white cape. “Hunter! Deer Killer! Keep an eye on the prisoner while I make my report”—he shot a final glance at Dzoo—“and see if our chief wants this worthless woman alive … or dead.”
Thirty-one
After each of the chiefs had entered his lodge, Rain Bear took a moment to ensure that the guards obeyed him and stayed at least fifty hands away. They did—but no one looked happy about it. Two men stood grumbling in front of Evening Star’s lodge, giving steely-eyed glances to Hornet and Wolf Spider, who returned them stare for stare.