Her words carried across the water. “When you are ready, Seeker, we shall come!”
Old White shouted, “What? Two Petals! Stop this nonsense!”
“That copper is ours!” Wooden Cougar bellowed. “Ours, Smoke Shield. Bring it back!”
Old White shook his head. “I think it belongs to Power.”
“I’m taking a canoe,” Trader said. “This has to stop.”
“No.” Old White laid a hand on his arm. “Trust to Power.”
“Seeker you can’t—” Trader stopped short, eyes on the bobbing canoe.
Two Petals rose to her feet, balancing on the slender canoe gunwales. She raised her head to the sunlight, lifting her arms. Then she looked down at the water, seeming to ignore Smoke Shield’s barked questions.
“Two Petals,” Trader cried. “Sit down! You’ll tip over!”
She met his eyes across the water, calling, “Seeker? Time has stopped!”
He drew a breath to call to her, and blinked in disbelief.
In an instant the canoe’s stern sank like a rock, spilling Smoke Shield into the river. The bow rose to point straight up into the sky. Two Petals dove, her hands spearing as her slim body arrowed neatly into the water.
Sunlight flashed on copper, the beam of it almost blinding. Then the boat was sucked down in a swirl.
Smoke Shield screamed, splashing about in the chop, staring this way and that. He bellowed, “No! No! Power is mine!” Then, as he turned toward shore, a terrible shriek tore from his throat. His body lifted on a fountain of foaming water, hung for an instant, and as Smoke Shield uttered one last scream, he was dragged under.
Old White stared in disbelief.
Something sleek rose in a giant ring, water slipping smoothly from its curved surface. Rainbow colors reflected briefly, and then it was gone, waves splashing as they rose and fell.
“Two Petals!” Trader screamed, charging forward and diving into the river.
“Come back!” Old White shouted.
He stood helplessly, heart hammering, aware that the growing crowd behind him was deathly silent. Time had indeed stopped. The only movement was Trader as he stroked furiously toward the still-swirling water. Then he dove.
“Gods, no!” Heron Wing reached for Old White’s hand, her grip crushing his bones.
“What just happened here?” Pale Cat asked.
“I don’t know,” Old White told him. “But the Kala Hi’ki told us a Horned Serpent lives beneath Split Sky City.”
“Horned Serpent!” Blood Skull repeated in awe. Whispers of “Horned Serpent” went from lip to lip as the people stared.
The canoe shot out of the water like a leaping fish, the bow rising high. It seemed to freeze for a moment, hanging. Slowly tilting, it gained speed, and crashed down on its keel. White spray accompanied the loud slap of wood on water. The canoe bobbed there, swamped.
“Gods,” Old White whispered.
He stood transfixed, waiting. Was it an eternity or a matter of heartbeats before Trader’s head popped up, and he flipped water from his face? Trader gasped for breath, searching this way and that. Then he stroked over to the canoe, grasping its gunwale.
“Someone”—Blood Skull turned—“come with me while I paddle out there and bring Green Snake and the canoe back.”
Old White released Heron Wing’s hand as she hurried to find a place in the canoe Seven Dead and Blood Skull launched.
His feet rooted to the shore, Old White shivered, his souls in turmoil. Two Petals could not have held her breath this long. Gods, she is gone!
He turned, grief tugging at the bottom of his heart. As he pushed through the crowd, images of the Contrary filled his souls. He remembered that first moment she’d been carried out like a deer, bound to a pole, her mouth gagged. Again he saw her naked that day in Cahokia, watched her lean forward to blow the souls from Black Tooth’s body. She laughed inside him, enchanting his memory.
“She now Sings with her husband,” a soft Albaamo voice said from the side. “She has found peace and joy.”
He turned to see Whippoorwill, her dark eyes shining. She placed a slim hand on his shoulder, saying, “The Kala Hi’ki saw it all. It is finished—justice is done. He will tell Born-of-Sun.”
“What was that? Horned Serpent?”
She gave him a wistful smile. “What did you see, Seeker?” And then she turned, walking up the slope. Was it his imagination, or did the shadow of a huge wolf accompany her?
Old White sighed. Gods, he was tired.
Glancing back, he saw that Trader had been pulled into Blood Skull’s canoe. They were towing the swamped craft back to shore. Old White watched them land, saw Trader step out to drag Two Petals’ boat onto the sand and tip it so the water ran out. Then Trader froze, frowning. Finally he reached down into the hull. When he straightened, it was to hold two large crystals up to the sun. The light played through them, shooting beams in every direction.