It Wakes in Me (12 page)

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Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: It Wakes in Me
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Littlefield’s faded old eyes narrowed. “Did you find the murderer?”
Grown Bear wet his lips. “Perhaps, Elder. We found a dead man lying a short distance away. His skull had been crushed
with a club. Matron Wink told me later that the dead man was her brother’s son, a young warrior named Far Eye. No one knows what he was doing in the forest. He wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“Where was he supposed to be?”
When Grown Bear shrugged, Littlefield swiveled around to pin Feather Dancer with her wise old eyes. “You are the war chief. Where did you assign Far Eye?”
Grudgingly, Feather Dancer said, “He was supposed to guard the Chieftess’ House all night.”
Littlefield’s mouth puckered. “Then if he was a good warrior, he would have never left there, unless the chieftess ordered him to. Maybe she was nearby. Is it possible that she killed Blue Bow, then Far Eye?”
“To make sure there were no witnesses,” Horned Owl suggested. “Yes, that sounds plausible.”
Feather Dancer opened his mouth to comment, then apparently thought better of it and remained silent.
Strongheart got to his feet and quietly asked, “Isn’t it just as likely that Far Eye murdered Blue Bow, and Chieftess Sora was so outraged she killed him for it?”
Murmurs rushed through the crowd, rising in volume until Littlefield slashed down with her hand to silence it. The old woman stared mercilessly at Strongheart. “If she had done that, why did she flee? The innocent do not have to run away.”
“Wouldn’t you be afraid that the murdered chief ’s warriors would shoot first, and ask who you were later?”
Littlefield folded her skeletal arms across her chest and nodded. “We need to hear more of the story. Flint? Come forward.”
Flint marched to stand before the elders. He had his back to Sora, but she could see how stiffly he stood. His black cape swayed around his tall body.
Littlefield ordered, “Tell us your story. Is it true that you
suspect Chieftess Sora of murdering this White Fawn who was to be your wife?”
“Yes, Elder.” He paused to take a deep breath. “War Chief Skinner and I had gone out into the forest to meet the bridal procession. By the time we arrived, White Fawn was dead. Her family thought she’d been poisoned. I immediately feared the worst, that my former wife had ordered her death. It was only later, when I arrived in Blackbird Town, that I discovered Sora had been missing when White Fawn was killed.”
“What do you mean, ‘missing’?”
“Well”—he glanced at Sora—“she wasn’t in Blackbird Town. Supposedly she’d come here to meet with Blue Bow to negotiate the release of my relatives from Oak Leaf Village, but she never came. Matron Wink told me Sora ordered Feather Dancer to camp just outside your village and told him she would be going in with only one guard, Walking Bird. Feather Dancer hadn’t liked the idea, but he’d obeyed, and waited for her to return.”
“When did she return?” Strongheart asked.
“Five days later. She walked into camp alone and told Feather Dancer that Walking Bird was dead. She said that a Loon warrior had tried to kill her the instant she set foot in Eagle Flute Village and Walking Bird had thrown himself in front of her to protect her.”
A roar of outrage went through the crowd as people questioned each other.
“No such thing ever happened,” Littlefield said.
“I know, Elder,” Flint replied. “Matron Wink also told me that when Feather Dancer asked how the negotiations had gone, Sora said that Blue Bow had been obstinate. She hadn’t been able to negotiate the release of the hostages. He—”
Littlefield interrupted, “Is that true, War Chief? Is that what the chieftess told you?”
Feather Dancer’s gaze slid to Sora, and she nodded, telling him to tell the truth. He said, “Yes.”
“Please,” Grown Bear interrupted, “I wish to add something.”
“Do so, War Chief.”
“My scouts told me that Chieftess Sora did leave Feather Dancer’s camp with Walking Bird, but before she reached our village, she walked away into the trees. As we all know, Walking Bird continued on and entered our village, but the chieftess disappeared. My scouts tried to track her, but she was too shrewd for them.”
“What day was that?” Strongheart asked.
“The seventeenth day of the Moon of Green Leaves.”
Strongheart turned back to Flint. “And when was this White Fawn killed?”
Flint clenched his fists. “The nineteenth day of the Moon of Green Leaves.”
Littlefield whispered something to the old woman sitting next to her, then asked, “How far away from Eagle Flute Village was the bridal procession when this happened?”
“Two days, Elder.” The words sounded as though they hurt Flint.
“So,” Littlefield said, “the chieftess could have taken the trails north, killed White Fawn, and returned to her camp just outside our village.”
“Yes,” Grown Bear answered. “And with Walking Bird dead, there was no one to object to the story. She could say she was here talking with Blue Bow about the hostages.”
Horned Owl leaned forward. “That’s why she had to lure my father to Blackbird Town to kill him. He knew she had never entered our village. It was all a lie so that she could run north and kill this young woman!”
Blessed gods, I couldn’t have done that … could I?
Her heart beat against her ribs like a hammerstone. Within moments, she couldn’t breathe. Her hands trembled.
It’s beginning. I feel it.
Deep inside me, it wakes … uncoiling like a lazy serpent.
Flint gave her a strange look, as though he knew. He took a tentative step toward her.
She looked out at the crowd. Hisses slipped from mouth to mouth, and she could tell from the hateful eyes of the crowd that they wanted her dead.
Flint cried, “She’s going to faint! Black Turtle! Snail! Grab her arms! Hurry!”
When Sora saw the two men lunging through the crowd to get to her, she fought to get up, but her legs wouldn’t hold her.
The darkness came like a shimmering midnight blue flood, and in the depths, two enormous eyes blazed to life … .
CHIEFTESS SORA CRIED OUT AND TOPPLED BACKWARD with her limbs jerking and her jaws snapping together.
Feather Dancer lurched against the restraining hands of his guards. “Let me go! She needs help. Flint, help her!”
Flint was already shoving people aside to get to the chieftess. He dropped to the ground at her side and pulled her spasming body onto his lap. “Sora, I’m here,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I’m right here.”
Her gnashing teeth turned her spittle into foam that dripped from her jaws like a rabid dog’s. Flint wiped at it futilely, and shouted, “I told you there was an Evil Spirit inside her! It chases her soul away! You have to help her. The greatest Healer in the world lives among you! Won’t you let him try to help her?”
Elder Littlefield cried, “She has the Rainbow Black! The same Spirit killed my niece!”
Strongheart moved out into the crowd, speaking softly to each person he could, gazing directly into the eyes of people too
far away to speak with. Several nodded. A few shook their heads vehemently.
Horned Owl leaped to his feet, glanced down at Sora, then shouted, “This is all a trick to make you believe she’s sick! There is no Evil Spirit inside her! Can’t you tell this is a trick?”
The villagers scrutinized Sora, then looked back at Horned Owl, unconvinced.
“I tell you, she is
not
sick! She murdered my father!”
Strongheart boldly swung around to Grown Bear. “Matron Wink demanded that you be present at the Healing Circle held for Chieftess Sora, didn’t she?”
Grown Bear swallowed hard. “Yes, Priest. She told me I had to come and bring something that had belonged to Chief Blue Bow.”
“What did you take?”
“I presented her with the chief ’s copper breastplate. He had planned to give it to her anyway, as a token of his respect.”
“What did the other people in the Circle bring?”
Grown Bear seemed to be struggling to recall. “Several things: a copper bracelet, a shell pendant … White Fawn’s father laid a beautifully beaded wedding headdress at the chieftess’ feet. War Chief Skinner’s mother brought her son’s bones.”
“Then,” Strongheart called, “everyone in the Circle brought an item that had belonged to a person the chieftess is accused of killing.”
“Yes.”
A din of voices rose as the crowd began asking questions. This Black Falcon ritual was unfamiliar to them. They must find it very strange.
Above the fray, Strongheart shouted, “How did the Circle end?”
Grown Bear said, “The chieftess could remember none of the murders. Their high priest, an old man named Teal, said
she didn’t remember because her reflection-soul had been out wandering the forest while her shadow-soul committed the murders. Then he said that, since they hadn’t been able to force her to recall what she’d done, the Healing Circle was a failure. Teal said they had to find a more Powerful priest to Heal her.”
Flint clutched Sora’s spasming body, and said, “The Evil Spirit drives out her reflection-soul! Matron Wink knew this. That’s why she sent a runner to ask Priest Strongheart if he would try to Heal her. Isn’t that true, Strongheart?”
“Yes, it’s true.” Strongheart nodded and lifted his hand for all to see. “It’s time to cast your voices. Who votes with me that she is sick and needs our help?”
One by one people responded, “Let Strongheart drive out the Evil Spirit!” “She is sick! Look at her!” “Let Strongheart try to Heal her!” “Sick.” “I say she’s sick!”
Horned Owl waited for the clamor to die down before he shouted, “Who votes with me that she is
not
sick?”
One young warrior shouted, “I do!” Another said, “I agree that it’s a trick!”
Littlefield rose to her feet to stare at the warriors who had sided with Chief Horned Owl. “Are there only two people in Eagle Flute Village who agree with the chief?” A roar of voices swelled. “Cast your voice! Who else believes this is a trick?”
No one spoke.
Littlefield turned back to Horned Owl. “Our people have decided that she is sick and we should allow Priest Strongheart to try to Heal her.”
Feather Dancer turned to Strongheart, expecting him to agree or perhaps give his consent.
The priest stood quietly, watching Chieftess Sora. Blood poured from the corner of her mouth where she’d bitten her lolling tongue, but Strongheart seemed to be studying her stiff
arms and legs, as though the way they flailed told him something no one else understood.
“Strongheart,” Littlefield called. “Do you wish to Heal this woman?”
Strongheart tore his gaze from the chieftess and nodded. “Yes, Elder. When she quiets, have her brought to my house. I think I can help her.”
Then, as though in a dream, Strongheart turned away from the elders and marched straight to Feather Dancer, softly asking, “When her father died, where was her sister?”
Feather Dancer shook his head as though he hadn’t heard right. Why would Strongheart pick this moment to ask a question about something that had happened twenty-five winters earlier?
“I don’t know. I had seen barely one winter pass.”
“Did you ever hear anyone speak of it?”
“Yes, many times, but I don’t recall hearing anyone mention her sister. They talked about her father—”
“Were you there when her sister died?” Strongheart’s gaze seemed to burn.
“Yes. In fact, I remember that day very well. The entire town was in an uproar.”
“What happened?”
Feather Dancer frowned. “People found Walks-among-the-Stars’ body washed up on shore, and they immediately mounted a search for Sora. They found her a day later, wandering aimlessly through the forest. She’d been in the cold water for a long time. She couldn’t even remember her name.”
“Did Walks-among-the-Stars drown?”
Feather Dancer lifted his shoulders uncertainly. “Eventually, yes. Her skull had been crushed. Priest Teal said that, in the storm, she must have been thrown out of the canoe onto a rock.”
Strongheart stood there absorbing this information while he searched Feather Dancer’s face.
“I’ll be in my house, preparing myself. If you remember anything else, anything at all that might be useful to me, please tell your guards you need to speak with me.”
“Very well.”
The shell bells on Strongheart’s shirt hem made music when he strode away.

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