People of the Thunder(135)

Pale Cat accompanies Green Snake. He’ll ensure that nothing goes wrong.

But not even the protestations of a Hopaye could save them. This thing was too dangerous.

Trust in Power, Green Snake had said. But it was Power that had taken him from her in the first place.

Gods, why couldn’t we have just climbed into your nice northern canoe and left this place?

“Are you still awake?” Morning Dew asked from her bed across the room. The woman lifted her head, black hair tumbling around her face.

“Go back to sleep. It’s nothing.”

Morning Dew dropped her head back to the bedding, but a moment later flipped the blanket off and stood. She walked over, awkward with sleep, to seat herself beside Heron Wing. Her knowing eyes studied Heron Wing’s face.

“Do I want to know what is happening?”

“Not if you value your life.” She glanced at the woman, seeing concern behind her dark eyes. “My whole world has become chaos.”

“Green Snake?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Morning Dew smiled. “I thought I was in love once.” She shook her head. “But if our roles had been reversed, I’m not sure. Had I had to spend ten years away from Screaming Falcon, I don’t know that I’d be as committed as you are.”

“Perhaps it was being married to Smoke Shield. I had time to dwell on a better man.”

Morning Dew stared wistfully at the fire. “I am a worthless woman.”

Heron Wing lifted her eyebrow. “Oh?”

“My husband meant everything to me. Hardly a moment passed without me thinking of him. When I married him, it was the most marvelous day of my life. We only had days, but they were miraculous. Then, after the raid, I don’t know what happened. I lived with the horror of what was happening to him. Then, after that night . . .” She shrugged. “Can you love someone, and then, when it’s all over, barely grieve for them? All I remember from those days was worrying about myself. Not him.” She glanced at Heron Wing. “I cried when he died, but I think now that I was crying for myself.”

Heron Wing smiled, laying her arm over Morning Dew’s shoulders. “Don’t you know what grief is? You always cry for yourself, for what you’ve lost.”

“That seems selfish in some way.”

“Survivors are always selfish.” She glanced up at the dark roof. “That’s what worries me about Green Snake and this insane scheme of his. I’d be happy to embrace selfishness right now. I want him to come and take me away. I want to be a survivor, Morning Dew. I want to have what you had, even for a couple of days.” She closed her eyes. “One night wasn’t enough.”

“What are they doing tonight?”

“Risking their lives. The Seeker has a plan to appease the Chahta war party when it comes.” She glanced at Morning Dew. “Nothing will make much difference if your people and mine start fighting. Like tossing a burning torch on a roof, there will be no way to stop it.”

“What are they—?”

“Are you there?” a voice called from the darkness.

“We’re here,” Heron Wing answered. “But wait a moment. Let me put something over the fire.”

She stood, shuffling through the pots to find a large round bowl. This she laid over the flames, dousing the room in darkness. “Come.”

She felt the draft as he entered, heard the door hanging rasp on wood. Once sure the fabric was in place, she used a stick to pry the bowl out of the hearth. The light flickered, gained strength, and she turned to see Green Snake. Water beaded on his smooth skin, and his hair sparkled with droplets. He was dressed as a warrior, his hair back in a bun pinned with a little white arrow. The partially finished tattoos on his face had been painted in, and a war club hung from his belt. Heavy leather straps rested on his shoulders.

He swung the wooden box from his shoulders, and Morning Dew gasped, staring with disbelief.

“The White Arrow war medicine!” she cried, rising to stand an arm’s length from the intricately carved wood. “How did you get it?”

“With a great deal of risk, danger, and harrowing escapes.” Green Snake’s grin grew wider. “Almost cost me my life. Such close calls I never hope to have again.”

Morning Dew’s expression remained stunned. Heron Wing, however, arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “Who knows it’s missing?”

“No one.” Green Snake raised the box, letting fire-light gleam on the pearls and shell inlaid into the wood. The Chahta image of a falcon shone from the box lid. “At least, not yet.”

“How did you get this?” Morning Dew asked again, as if having trouble breathing.