The Dawn Country(42)
“Did you see him?” Wrass asked. “The man? Did you s-see him?”
Zateri frowned. “What man? One of the warriors?”
“No. The Forest Spirit. He was just here.”
“I didn’t see anyone near you, Wrass. I came because I need to talk to you. And I brought you these.”
She pulled freshly cut willow twigs from her legging and slipped them into Wrass’ hand.
As he nibbled on the bitter twigs, his thoughts drifted. He tried to imagine Elder Brother Sun blackening his face with the soot of the dying world … and wondered if it was warfare that was going to kill Great Grandmother Earth. Fighting had gone on for so long that no one in Yellowtail Village could remember a time without war.
Zateri said, “I heard Gannajero tell Kotin that Toksus is halfway home.”
“Halfway? To Bog Willow Village?” Elation warmed his veins.
“I guess so.”
The more Wrass thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. “It’s not possible. Even if he ran f-flat-out the entire way in the darkness, he couldn’t have made it that far.”
“I thought the same thing, but …”
Zateri wet her lips, and her front teeth stuck out. She glanced at the guards again. “Just after we made camp, she walked away into the forest and pulled the dead boy’s eyes from her belt pouch. She held them up over her own eyes, as though she was seeing through them. Then she talked to them for a long time.”
In a hushed voice, he said, “The eyes talk to her?”
Zateri lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t hear them say anything. But I guess she did.”
Zateri twisted her hands in her lap. The gesture was more forceful than any of her spoken words. They both feared that all the evil creatures in the world gathered around Gannajero. How could they fight an army of Spirit creatures?
“Wrass, I’m really scared,” Zateri said. “Someone is coming for us, aren’t they? Odion, Baji, and Tutelo found their families, and they organized a search party to find us … didn’t they?”
Wrass held her desperate gaze for a time. Trying to comfort her, he said, “Baji promised she’d return for us with a war party at her back.”
“Yes, but who can say what might have happened after she got away? She might have tried, and no one would listen to a twelve-summers-old girl.”
Wrass smiled. “Baji is not that easy to ignore.”
“Then … you do think someone is coming?” Her voice shook.
Wrass carefully considered what to say. If he sounded too optimistic, she wouldn’t believe him. Zateri had been a slave as long as he had. She knew the way of things. On the other hand, hope had kept them alive this long. “Yes. Someone is coming. But I don’t think we c-can rely on them to rescue us. Figuring out our trail isn’t going to be easy. It could take them another moon to find us, and too much can h-happen.” Her eyes tightened. Wrass continued, “We have to do this ourselves, Zateri. And soon.”
She expelled a breath and glanced at the guards again. Both men seemed to be ignoring them, studying the forest shadows and the river. “Do you have a plan?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been too sick to think, but I’m starting to feel a little better, so I’ll—”
“I have a plan.” Zateri leaned very close to him and whispered, “They don’t know it was us who poisoned their stew pot. Maybe we can do it again. I just need a few days to collect the plants.”
Wrass nodded. “Do it. I’m not sure we’ll have a chance. Gannajero has been watching her p-pots like a hawk. But it won’t hurt to have the plants just in case we have an opportunity to use them.”
“I’m pretty sure she thinks it was one of her own warriors who tried to kill her.”
“To take all the children for himself?”
“Yes. She picks her men because they’re slit-eyed thieves with no honor. She can’t trust them.”
Zateri pushed black hair behind her ears, and they sat for a while in companionable silence. The sound of the river seemed louder. Wrass let his gaze wander to the smoke that wreathed the treetops like gauzy shreds of mist. In the firelight, the treetops seemed to flicker, as though lightning lived in their hearts.
Finally, Zateri frowned. “Wrass, there’s one other thing.”
“What?”
“One of the new guards … the one named Akio?”
“What about him?”
She made an uncertain gesture with her hand. “I think he’s from my village.”
Blood surged through his veins, and his headache pounded. “From Atotarho Village? Are you sure?”