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People of the River(41)

By:W. Michael Gear


Tharon chanced a smile. "I wanted you here, Nightshade. I'm sorry I banished you ten cycles ago, but you made me so angry when you beat me in that chunkey game!" He sulked for a moment before glancing up at her from beneath his lashes. "Maybe we could be friends again. You could breathe life into the WeUpots and talk to the Spirits, and I'll mle the land. Would that be all right? What do you think? Hmm?"

Had it not been for the silence that smothered the chamber, Badgertail would not have heard her response: "Tharon, answer me. Why did you kill Marmot? Did he find out what you'd done to turn First Woman against us?"

"Nightshade!" Tharon's hand shot out with the quickness of Snake to snatch a handful of her dark, tangled hair. He yanked her face up to within a handsbreadth of his own.

"Don't . . . don*t ever ask me that again. Do you understand?"

A smile curled Nightshade's lips. "Let me go, Tharon. Or shall I call out to the hundreds of Spirits who inhabit the Power objects you've stolen? They won't be as gentle with you as I will. They'll gladly eat your soul."

Badgertail's muscles tightened at Tharon's answering laugh. For several moments, no one moved—and then something subtle changed in the room. As if the Ice Giants had strode back into this world, bringing glacial cold with them, Badgertail shivered. The light started to spin in little whirlpools at the edges of his vision. He could almost see Power seeping out of the Bundles to infuse the golden glow that pervaded the room. He took a step forward.

"Don't threaten me, Nightshade!" Tharon glanced around fearfully. "You don't ever tW-eaten me! I'm the Sun Chief. You have to obey me. That's all you have to do!"

"I won't obey a fool, Tharon."

Tharon raised a fist over his head, poised to strike. Badgertail broke into a run. Nightshade hunched down as the blow descended, and Badgertail caught Tharon's fist in mid-swing, holding it tightly against his blood-soaked warshirt.

"Don't do this, my Chief," he whispered insistently. "You're tired. Get some rest and think . . . before you do something you'll regret. You know that Nightshade doesn't deserve this kind of treatment."

Firelight sparkled on the beads of sweat that trickled down Tharon's throat. His sudden laughter grated eerily. "Yes. You're . . . you're right, Badgertail. I'm just worn out. And it's been a terrible week."

Badgertail released Tharon's hand and backed away. "No one sees rightly when he's tired. With your permission, I'll escort Nightshade to her room so that you can rest."

Orenda whimpered again, muted, half-choking. Tharon gritted his teeth and gave his daughter a look that would have melted snow. Orenda buried her face in her little hands and sobbed almost soundlessly.

"Go ahead, Badgertail. Take Nightshade to her chamber." Tharon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stared at Nightshade. "Go on. Take her away."

Badgertail quickly ushered Nightshade from the Sun Chamber into the dimness of the hall. In the living quarters around the chamber, firebowls glowed only at the intersections of the corridors, leaving most of the temple ominously dark. They walked in silence until they reached the correct passageway and turned left.

Badgertail inhaled his first easy breath of the night when they stopped before the door to her old room. "Nightshade—"

"You're not planning on defending him to me, are you? Don't make pretenses with me. You hate him just as much as everyone else does."

He nodded mildly. "Perhaps, but you must understand that he's lost his wife and eleven friends in the past seven days. He's—"

"He murdered Old Marmot, Badgertail," she said unemotionally. "I don't know why. But I must find out. If someone doesn't heal the wound that Tharon's ripped in the soul of First Woman, she'll never speak for us again, and Mother Earth will let us all die."

The wild glow of Sister Datura had faded from her powerful gaze, replaced now by something softer and a little frightened. Grief had once more imprinted its tracks on her beautiful face, tightening around her mouth.

He straightened up and bowed slightly. "Have a good rest. Nightshade. We'll see each other again."

Badgertail started down the hall, anxious to leave so that he could go to Bobcat's home and tell Moonseed the things he must. Already his ears rang with her cries.

"Badgertail?" Nightshade called.

He stopped but did not turn. "Yes?"

"Bobcat wanted me to tell you that he forgives you."

Like a knife in his heart . . . Badgertail clamped his jaw before he swiveled halfway around. "For what?"

"For not leaving when you had the chance." She pulled back the door-hanging and vanished into the darkness of her room. The hanging swung erratically, revealing glimpses of her red dress.