Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

It Sleeps in Me (23 page)

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me

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FEATHER DANCER FOLLOWED LONG FIN AS HE DUCKED BENEATH the door curtain and into the Matron’s House. Only two torches, one at the front and one at the rear, lit the hallway that led to Matron Wink’s bedchamber.

Long Fin strode down the corridor calling, “Mother?
Mother, wake up!”

Just as they reached the matron’s chamber, she draped the curtain back on a peg and ducked into the hall. Fully dressed in a long pale purple dress covered with seed beads, she looked regal. She’d piled her graying black hair on top of her head and secured it with a shell comb. She appeared tired, as though she’d spent the past several hands of time negotiating a difficult truce. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We were attacked,” Long Fin said. “Blue Bow is dead.”

Wink’s lips parted in shock. “What? How? What happened?”

Long Fin shook his head. “We don’t know for certain. We found Far Eye dead in a meadow a short distance from where Blue Bow was killed. He’d been clubbed in the head.”

Wink glanced into her dimly lit bedchamber, and fear welled in her eyes. Someone moved in the rear.

“I told you,”
a a man’s soft voice said. “Do something now, Wink, before you have no other choice.”

Long Fin frowned. “Who’s in there?”

He started for the door, and Wink threw out her arm to block him. “Go find Chieftess Sora. Bring her here as soon as you can.”

A shadow rose in the far corner of the bedchamber, tall, lean. He was dressed in black.

Long Fin gave Feather Dancer a questioning look. “Why? What’s this about?”

Wink turned to Feather Dancer. “My son apparently refuses to obey my orders. War Chief, fetch the chieftess.”

“Right away, Matron.” Feather Dancer sprinted for the front entry.

Wink stared at Long Fin. “Go home. Stay there. I don’t want you to leave until I summon you. I’ll post six guards around your house.”

“But Mother, I don’t understand. Why—”

“Do as I say!”
she shouted.

Shocked, Long Fin jerked a nod, backed up, and hurried away down the hall.

QUIETLY, FROM THE DEPTHS OF HER BEDCHAMBER, HE SAID, “I’ve been trying to tell you for seventeen winters, Wink. How many more must die before you believe me?”

Wink turned to stare at him. He resembled nothing more than a tall dark shadow tucked into the corner. “We don’t know she killed him.”

“No?” he asked in an anguished voice. “This started long ago. Didn’t you ever wonder why a seven-winters-old girl ate none of the stew she prepared for her father?”

Wink bowed her head for a long while before she answered,
“Yes. I did. I also wondered about her mother’s death. That’s why I agreed to go along with this madness when you and Skinner first came to me after White Fawn’s death. Over the long winters I’ve wondered about many things.”

His black cape billowed as he strode toward her. He had stunning midnight eyes that seemed to glow from their own inner light. “And her older sister? Didn’t you think it odd—”

“That was an accident! Many people drown in rough seas.”

“What about all the Traders who looked at her ‘the wrong way’? You thought I killed them?”

She felt very tired. “She said you did. It made sense. You were always so jealous you couldn’t bear—”

“I was jealous. But I was not stupid. The things she believed people said to her to coax her into their arms were always so bizarre, I knew they couldn’t be true. But she truly believed them. So for a time, I did, too. That was my mistake.”

Wink hesitated, not sure she wanted to know the answer to the question she longed to ask. She walked into her bedchamber and leaned against the wall beside the door. “Do you think she actually
heard
people say those things? That her shadow-soul created—”

“I know she heard the words. Just as I know they were never said.”

Wink struggled with herself, with her loyalty to her oldest and dearest friend in the world. “All of this sounds too plausible. I have to keep reminding myself that you could still be the culprit, that she might be completely innocent of the things you accuse her of doing.”

“What about the Spirit Plants, Wink? Did you think me such a fool that I would accidentally use too many on seven different occasions? I have worked with plants all my life. I studied with old Long Lance. He taught me the exact amounts to use to Heal, to send a man on a Spirit Journey, to make him appear dead for days. I would
never
use too many.”

Stunned by the hushed vehemence in his voice, she whispered, “She said you were trying to find a Spirit Helper.”

He turned away and for the first time was silent.

“I was,” he finally said. “The gods know that’s true. I loved her desperately. I wanted to Heal her. I would have done almost anything to help her, but I did not mistreat Spirit Plants. I never have.”

“Are you saying that she—”

“Yes! She tried to kill me! Several times! Especially toward the end. That’s why I left. I was terrified that the next time she would succeed.”

Wink’s heart beat a dull staccato in her chest. Across the room, the enormous image of Birdman wavered, his wings seeming to flutter with the firelit shadows. “I must hear her side.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve heard it a dozen times. She’ll tell you she remembers nothing.”

Wink lifted her head. “Do you think she’s lying?”

“Gods, no. I believe her. Her reflection-soul isn’t there when she does it, Wink. It’s lost in the forest wandering around like a child. How could she remember? If you love her, you will send her to a priest who can fix her reflection-soul in her body so it will never get lost again. I—I tried. I thought if I could make her love her body, her soul would look forward to staying home.”

“You failed.”

“Yes,” he said in a small voice. “She needs someone far more Powerful than me to Heal her. I did everything I could, Wink. I couldn’t make her remember.”

“Do you have a Healer in mind? Maybe Long Lance?”

“He is one possibility, but he’s very old. I’m not sure he has the strength to handle her. The only Healer I know who does is Priest Strongheart. He’s young. Twenty-three winters.”

Wink straightened. The man was legendary. But he was one of the Loon People, the greatest Healer in Blue Bow’s village. Occasionally Traders whispered about his exploits, the people he’d
miraculously Healed, the villages he’d saved from meteorite strikes and hurricanes, the people who’d tried to kill him and vanished without a trace.

“Strongheart is not one of our people, and Sora would be in danger in Blue Bow’s village. After tonight, there will be many Loon People who wish her dead.”

“I had a long conversation with Teal. He thinks Strongheart is her only hope.” In a pleading voice, he added, “Please, Wink. She needs your help. You are her best friend.”

“If I must make the choice between Long Lance and Strongheart, I choose Long Lance.”

He nodded. “Very well. I will send word to him. But you might wish to send a runner to Strongheart as well, in case Long Lance refuses.”

“I’ll do that immediately. But if Long Lance accepts, how will we get her to his village? He lives far to the north.”

He took a deep breath as though to give him the courage for his next words. “I will take her.”

“You?”

“Yes. I owe her that much.”

Wink studied him. Conflicting emotions danced across his handsome face. “What if she won’t go with you?”

“I think she will. But if not, I know the plants to make her sleep for the entire journey.”

Wink leaned against the wall while she thought. The plaster felt cool and damp. “Teal wants to try one last thing. I’ll make my decision after he’s had his chance.”

His black cape spun when he turned to pin her with his gaze. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“May I be there?” he asked with trepidation, as though she might forbid him to attend.

“You
must be there. Teal says that without your presence, it would be utterly useless.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Give me some time to prepare myself. I haven’t looked into her eyes in a long time.”

Wink studied his handsome, tormented face. Bitterly, she asked, “Are you afraid you might see how much she still loves you?”

He stared at her for a long time before he whispered, “Yes. I am.”

FEATHER DANCER RACED PAST THE GUARDS AT THE BASE OF the Chieftess’ Mound and hurried up the steps. As he neared the men posted on either side of the front entry, he called, “Where is the chieftess?”

Young Speaks Low stepped forward. “She hasn’t passed us, War Chief. She must be inside.”

Feather Dancer ducked beneath the door curtain. As he rushed down the hallway, he called, “Chieftess? Forgive me for disturbing you. It’s Feather Dancer.”

Before he reached her bedchamber, Rockfish threw the curtain aside and sleepily stumbled out. “What? What’s wrong?”

Feather Dancer studied his matted gray hair and said, “I must speak with the chieftess immediately. Matron Wink needs her.”

Rockfish blinked the fatigue from his eyes. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Sora. She’s not in our chamber. I was asleep. I didn’t even notice she’d left.”

Feather Dancer stood there breathing hard. Black thoughts welled inside him, twisting his belly.

Far down the hall, a soft
bang
sounded, as though someone had dropped something.

“Chieftess?” he called.

No answer.

Feather Dancer marched toward the temple and jerked back the curtain. The Eternal Fire blazed, casting a magnificent crimson aura over the sacred masks on the walls. Black Falcon hung forlornly above the altar, his head bent to the side, eyes closed serenely in death.

“War Chief?”
a woman called.

Feather Dancer squinted into the darkness to his right and saw the woman rise up. She wore the yellow sleep shirt that he’d seen the chieftess wear when she’d been ill after Skinner’s death.

“Chieftess?” he called again. “Is that you?”

“No, it’s me. Iron Hawk.”

He strode over to her and swiftly took in her fearful expression and huddled stance, as though she expected to be beaten.

“Where is the chieftess?”

Iron Hawk wrung her hands. “I don’t know, War Chief. Truly I don’t! Around midnight she came into the temple, ate a little dinner, and ordered me to exchange clothes with her. She put on my dress, cape, and hat and walked right by the guards. They never notice slaves. You know that!”

The temple suddenly went still and quiet.

Nothing moved, not even the flames in the Eternal Fire. For all Feather Dancer knew, his fears might have stopped the turning of seasons.

Rockfish called, “Feather Dancer? Did you find her?”

Feather Dancer sucked in a breath. “No,” he called back.
“But I will.
”

He charged by Rockfish and out into the night, shouting orders to warriors as he ran.

Men leaped to follow him.

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me

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