The Dawn Country(78)

Koracoo’s expression must have reflected her disbelief. Odion closed his mouth and blinked self-consciously.

Towa stepped to Odion’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. “I believe them, War Chief. When the children told us, we—”

“The children told you? When?”

Towa winced. “Right after we made camp in the plum grove. You and Gonda were standing guard. Tutelo heard us talking about the herringbone sandal prints, and she—”

“That’s not right,” Tutelo corrected him. “You were talking about how scared you were when you heard Father first call Odion’s name. You said that the night you were chased by the warriors you’d heard the man wearing the herringbone sandals call Odion’s name.” She aimed a small hand at Towa. “Then I told Towa that it was Shago-niyoh. Because Shago-niyoh had been calling to Odion for days. Don’t you remember me saying those things?”

The air seemed to go out of Koracoo’s body. She leveled lethal glares at Sindak and Towa. “She told you all of these things and you never told me?”

Sindak’s shoulders hunched. “Koracoo, it’s not as though we’ve had time to sit around the fire and have a long conversation. We told you everything we thought was really important, like the fact that Towa thought he’d seen Atotarho in the big warriors’ camp, as well as—”

Wakdanek stiffened. “Atotarho? The Hills People chief? In that camp? Did his warriors attack our village, too?” His voice kept rising until it was shrill.

To ease the tension, Koracoo said, “Wakdanek, Towa thought he saw Atotarho there. He wasn’t sure. He saw the man from a great distance. He may have been mistaken.”

Wakdanek’s shoulder muscles relaxed a little, but his expression remained grim. To Tutelo, he said, “What else did you tell Sindak and Towa that night?”

Tutelo glanced at Koracoo as though no longer certain who to answer. Koracoo nodded. “Continue, Tutelo.”

“Well, I told Towa that Shago-niyoh was a human False Face, and Towa pulled the shell gorget from his cape and said, ‘Does he wear one of these?’ That’s when Hehaka woke up and said that his father used to have a gorget like that.”

Wakdanek stared at Towa as though waiting to see it.

Koracoo aimed CorpseEye at Towa’s chest. “Show Wakdanek the gorget.”

“But, War Chief, it’s not a thing for ordinary eyes! Atotarho told me never to—”

“Do it.”

Grumbling, Towa reached into his shirt and pulled it out. The magnificent shell pendant covered half his chest. The hideous bent-nose False Face in the center, representing Horned Serpent, was surrounded by falling stars.

Wakdanek stared uncomfortably at the pendant. Very few people had ever seen it up close, and outsiders were never allowed to gaze upon it. Koracoo could feel the Power pulsing around the gorget. CorpseEye warmed in her hand. It was almost as though the Spirits that lived in the objects were speaking to each other in voices humans could not hear. A tingle ran up her arm.

“What does it signify?” Wakdanek whispered reverently.

Towa explained, “It chronicles the story of Horned Serpent and the destruction of the world in the Beginning Time.”

Sindak stared at it in awe. The ancient pendant told the most sacred story of all: the great battle between human beings and Horned Serpent.

“Tell me the story,” Wakdanek said sharply. “The whole story.”

Towa’s brows drew together. “I’ll tell you the part that we tell outsiders.”

Wakdanek nodded.

Towa said, “At the dawn of creation, Horned Serpent crawled out of Skanodario Lake and attacked the People. His poisonous breath, like a black cloud, swept over the land, killing almost everyone. In terror, the People cried out to the Great Spirit, and he sent Thunder to help them. A vicious battle ensued, and Thunder threw the greatest lightning bolt ever seen. The flash was so bright many of the People were instantly blinded. Then the concussion struck. The mountains shook, and the stars broke loose from the skies. As they came hurtling down, they hissed right over the People. Thousands slammed into Great Grandmother Earth. The ferocious blasts and scorching heat caused raging forest fires. The biggest star fell right into the lake on top of Horned Serpent. There was a massive explosion of steam and—as Horned Serpent thrashed his enormous tail in pain—gigantic waves coursed down the river valleys and surged over the hills in a series of colossal floods that drowned most of the People. Of the entire tribe, only five families remained—the five families who would become the Peoples that today live south of Skanodario Lake.”