It Wakes in Me (14 page)

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Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: It Wakes in Me
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Even in the dim light, she could tell that the box’s pitch seal had been broken.
Wink turned to glare at Rockfish.
“What’s wrong?” he said defensively.
She pulled out the box and tipped it so that he could see that the seal was broken.
Rockfish’s mouth dropped open. “Wink, I swear I did not open that box!”
In a voice that could have frozen lava, she said, “So. Someone knew about the box. He came in here, presumably while Sora was away, opened the sealed basket, then he opened the sealed box, and did … what?”
She lifted the lid to look inside.
The box was empty.
But as she tipped it to the light, she saw the tiny flecks of jade and gold dust that tumbled across the bottom.
In a stunned voice, she said, “Find Chief Long Fin. Tell him to meet me in my personal chamber.
Immediately
.”
WINK CLUTCHED THE EMPTY BOX IN HER HAND AND PACED like a madwoman. Her chamber spread ten paces across, giving her enough space to contemplate her doom.
Oh, Sora, what were you doing? Did you take the jade jewels to Eagle Flute Village? Did you give that brooch to Grown Bear?
In front of her, a massive painting of Mother Sun adorned the white plastered wall; golden hair twisted away from her face in glowing spirals. To the left, Comet People streaked earthward with their long blue-white wings tucked behind them.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered to the gods. “If Sora took the jade …”
Treason was the only crime in the Black Falcon Nation punishable by death.
Voices rose at the far end of the long hallway; then she heard her son’s distinctive steps. He was running.
“Mother?” Long Fin called.
“Enter, my son.”
He lifted the door curtain and stepped in, breathing hard.
“Rockfish said you wanted to see me immediately. What is it? Has something happened?”
A tall slender young man, he had a handsome face with large dark eyes. He looked regal today, dressed in a dark blue shirt that hung to his knees. Twists of pounded copper ringed his collar.
Wink said, “The night Blue Bow died, what happened?”
His mouth gaped as though he couldn’t believe she’d summoned him in a rush to repeat a story he’d already told her. “Mother, I was engaged in a very important conversation in the plaza—”
“Blue Bow said he knew
nothing
about the jade brooch, correct? He said he had not given it to Grown Bear to bring to Sora.”
“That’s right. He said he’d sent War Chief Grown Bear to Sora because she had broken her promise to speak with him about the Oak Leaf Village hostages. He’d wanted to arrange another meeting, if possible.”
The missing five days.
Wink tucked the box beneath her arm and began pacing again.
Long Fin frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Old Sea Grass came to me last night. She said she wanted to see the brooch before she took her murdered son’s bones home to Oak Leaf Village.”
“Yes? So?”
“She told me she’d seen the brooch before.”
Long Fin paused, trying to fathom the implications. “Ah,” he said with a nod, “now I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Mother”—he let out a breath—“Rockfish found me in the plaza speaking with Matron Wood Fern.”
“Wood Fern?” Wink stiffened. “What did she want?”
“She wants to know how an enemy war chief got his hands
on a very valuable piece of jewelry that belonged to the Black Falcon Nation.”
Sea Grass must have talked to Wood Fern … .
“Rockfish was insistent that I meet with you immediately, so I did not have a chance to ask what she meant. Perhaps you will tell me?”
Her gaze drifted to the Comet People streaking like blue fire across her wall. She felt like she was flying away with them into some great darkness. “Sea Grass said the brooch once belonged to Red Warbler.”
Incredulous, he asked, “Chieftess Sora’s great-grandmother?”
“Yes. Sea Grass said Red Warbler had a box full of jade pieces like that brooch that she’d sealed with boiled pine pitch and ordered her descendants never to open, except in case of emergency.”
“Then how did Grown Bear get it?”
“Someone opened the box, took the brooch, and gave it to him.”
They stood in silence, looking at each other.
“Who?” he said.
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. The only person I can think of is Sora.”
Long Fin stood unmoving for several instants, then slowly walked to her sleeping bench and sank down atop her brightly colored blankets. In the few days he’d been chief of the Black Falcon Nation, he’d aged. She could see it in his slumping shoulders. “Why would she do that?”
“She must have used them to pay off someone.”
“For what service?”
The old box felt suddenly gritty in her hand, dirty. “Maybe she tried to buy the release of our hostages—though I doubt she would have seen that as an emergency. Serious, yes, but an emergency? I don’t think so.”
“Had you discussed the possibility of buying the hostages back?”
“Of course we had,” she said impatiently. “We discussed
every
possible way to get them back without going to war. I, myself, suggested sending Blue Bow a litter overflowing with rare copper and shells.”
“But the council had voted
not
to pay for the release of the hostages.”
“Of course, my son,” she sternly replied. “They are doddering old women. They frequently make foolish decisions. It’s always been my job, and Sora’s job, to find ways to keep those decisions from harming our people.”
“Do you and Chieftess Sora often go against the wishes of the council?”
“No. Not often.
On occasion
it is necessary to accomplish in secrecy what cannot be accomplished in full daylight.”
He massaged his temples, as though in pain. “My mother, the diplomat.”
Wink thrust the box at him like a weapon. “The council voted not to pay for the release of hostages. They did not forbid us to send gifts to Eagle Flute Village.”
“A technicality I’m sure the council would not appreciate.”
“It doesn’t matter.
We
did not decide to use the jade to buy back our hostages.”
He lifted his head. “Do you think Chieftess Sora made the decision on her own to protect you, in case she was discovered?”
Wink’s knees went weak. She walked over and sank down on the sleeping bench beside Long Fin. “That’s exactly the sort of thing she would do—sacrifice herself to protect me.”
Long Fin scrutinized the box, then held out his hand. “May I look at it?”
She handed it to him and watched as he pulled off the lid to
look inside. He tipped up the box and poured the tiny flakes of jade and gold dust into his palm, where they glittered.
“Mother, all I see is a few speckles of what appear to be jade and gold. They could have come from anywhere. This may not even be jade. It could be fine flakes of green chert, for all I know. I still think it far more likely that Grown Bear traveled south for sixteen days and got the brooch from the Scarlet Macaw People. But let’s assume Sea Grass was telling the truth.” He shoved the flakes around with his fingertip. “Several pieces of jade jewelry like that brooch would have been worth a fortune. Two pieces, maybe three, would have been much more than necessary to buy the release of our hostages. Why would Chieftess Sora have taken them all?”
Wink smoothed the wrinkles from her sleeves while she contemplated that question. “You mean, you think she was bargaining for more than our hostages?”
“
If
they existed, and she took them, she must have been.”
The possibilities left her feeling shaky. She took several slow breaths to ease her racing pulse, but the blood surging in her ears still made it difficult to think straight.
“There is one more thing you should know, Mother.”
She swung around to peer at him. “What is it?”
“Matron Wood Fern asked me to reconvene the council of elders to discuss the jade.”
“But … it would be meaningless. It’s still three to two against. Unless she plans on changing her vote.”
Long Fin poured the glitter back into the box and handed it to her. “Mother, I think I may have made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“When Wood Fern first approached me, I … well, she said she’d heard that I had supported sending warriors after the jade, and asked if I still did.”
Wink gripped the box in both hands. “What did you say?”
“I told her that I believed the jade could make the Black Falcon Nation the greatest chieftainship in the world.”
Wink felt light-headed, sick to her stomach. Of course, she’d heard him say this; but that was before he’d become chief—when it didn’t matter what he said. “And that’s when she asked you to reconvene the council?”
“Yes.”
Forcing calm into her voice, she said, “You are wise to realize that was a mistake, my son. One that we must rectify as soon as possible.”
SORA WOKE NAKED AND UTTERLY EXHAUSTED. SHE WAS lying beneath a warm deerhide with Flint’s arms around her. He had his bare body curled against her back.
Someone moved around the house, stoking the fire, tapping a horn spoon against a wooden pot. Strongheart?
She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. The last thing she remembered was seeing the Midnight Fox’s eyes flare to life inside her.
What had happened after that?
Obviously, and to her surprise, she was alive. If she was in Strongheart’s house that probably meant the Loon villagers had voted to allow him to Heal her. But why was Flint here?
He nuzzled his cheek against her hair and whispered, “You’re safe. Don’t worry.”
“Get away from me. I hate you,” she weakly responded. “If I had the strength I’d tear out your heart.”
Flint grabbed her chin and wrenched her head around to glare into her eyes. “You may hate me, but—”
“You raped me!”
“Yes, I did! But it wasn’t the first time, was it? I remember when you used to beg me to surprise you in the forest. You loved it!”
“That was different. It was a game!”
“
This
was a game, too. It just wasn’t played by your rules.” He released her chin and more gently said, “You can hate me if you wish, but I saved your life today.”
Her jaw trembled before she clenched her teeth to steady it. “I do not want you here. Leave.”
“If you truly want me to go, I will. But I had no other choice, Sora. I had to find a way to make those men leave us alone so that I could talk with you in private. Raping you was the only leverage I had.”
For three winters, she had longed for Flint. Sometimes the need had been so overwhelming she’d felt she would die if she couldn’t hold him.
Now here he was, a dead dream born of lightning and thunder, come back to life. From a dark place in her souls she heard him whispering,
I love you. I love you so much.
A sick rage filled her. All of her adult life, she had forgiven him. No matter how terrible the hurt, he’d coddled her and stroked her, and she’d forgiven him.
Flint said, “You don’t really want me to leave, do you? You need me. You know you do.”
“I’ve always needed you, but that doesn’t mean you’ve always been there.”
“Stop it. The role of ‘abandoned wife,’ doesn’t suit you. You were as much to blame as I was.”
For a while, she just breathed. A mixture of hatred and despair knotted her belly. The trial testimonies kept running through her souls. There were so many things she didn’t understand. She needed time to think!
“Please, Sora,” he said softly. “I love you so much. Forgive me.” He released her hand and ran his fingers up her abdomen to her breasts, where he leisurely stroked her nipples. She tried to shove his hand away, and he took her breast in a hurtful grip and squeezed.
In a biting voice, she said, “Flint, for the sake of the gods, can you stop touching me long enough for me to ask you some questions?”
He let his hand fall. “What questions?”
“Did you really love White Fawn?”
“Yes.” Pain laced his voice, and despite her anger, it made her hurt for him. “She was sweet and brave—just like you were when you’d seen fifteen winters. All I wanted was to give her the love you had rejected, to pet her and protect her, just to see her smile for me alone.”
“I’m sorry she died. I didn’t do it, but I’m still sorry.”
He fumbled with the hides, pulling them more tightly around their bodies. “It was a … a frightening thing … when she died. Rather than hating you, I wanted you, Sora. I desperately longed to lie in your arms with my head pillowed between your breasts. We had shared so many memories, such grief, and pain. I truly believed that you were the only person in the world who could ease my hurt. And I hated myself for that.”
“What made you think I’d killed her?”
For a time, he didn’t speak. “We weren’t sure which trail the bridal procession was going to take. The barbarian Lily People had been raiding the borders of our territory; the procession had to be careful. Skinner and I took two different trails, hoping to catch the procession and lead them to Big Cypress Spring where we would have warriors waiting to escort them into Oak Leaf Village. No matter what we found, we promised to meet up at Big Cypress Spring. Two days later, we did, but neither of us had seen the procession. Skinner told the warriors to go
home, and together, he and I began searching for White Fawn’s party.”
“How long did it take you to find them?”
“At nightfall, we located them. Everyone in the bridal procession was weeping and tearing at their clothing. White Fawn’s father said he thought he’d glimpsed a strange woman out in the trees the night his daughter died. He thought it was a Forest Spirit. Skinner said—and I agreed—that you were the only woman who would want White Fawn dead. I knew then that I had to find someone to help you. To Heal you. Skinner suggested …”
The person who’d been moving in the background walked across the house, threw open the door curtain, and left. Voices rose outside. Strongheart spoke to a guard. She couldn’t make out the words.
Flint squeezed her breast again, and she could feel his manhood swelling. She rolled away and turned to face him.
“What else did Skinner say?”
“Stupid things,” he answered through a sharp exhalation. “He told me not to be sad, that he loved me far more than White Fawn ever could, and that he would never leave me.”
Despite coming from a distinguished family and rising to the position of village war chief, Skinner had never married. She had always wondered why, and suspected that he might be a berdache. Berdaches had male bodies, but female souls. They often took on the roles of women in Black Falcon society, becoming weavers, or planters. They were sacred bridges between light and dark, male and female. The most important warriors took berdaches as ‘wives,’ and were considered extremely lucky to have them.
“Did you love him?” she asked.
He paused, as though deciding whether or not to tell her. “Yes, Sora, I did. During those awful winters when you and I were trying
to kill each other, I used to seek him out, just to be close to him. He loved me so much. It hurt him when I married you, and I knew it. But I couldn’t help myself. You were like Mother Sun to me. I truly believed that all the light and warmth in the world lived in you, and if I could have you, nothing else would matter. I could live without Skinner, and my family, even my own souls, if necessary, just to be able to touch you every day.”
The pale yellow firelight flickered over his handsome face, and she could see how deeply the lines had cut around his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Skinner?”
Flint gave her an anguished look. “Would you have shared me?”
“No,” she answered honestly. “I wanted you all to myself.”
He nodded, and a lock of long black hair fell over his bare chest. “Besides, I thought you knew. Every time I came home after being with him, you shouted at me and berated me, as though in punishment.”
“I didn’t know. When you were gone, my souls turned to ice. I was lonely. That’s why I was unkind to you, but I didn’t know.”
“After I left you, I ran straight to him. He rocked me in his arms for days while I wept. For two and half winters, we were happy together. Then I met White Fawn … and once again things became difficult between us.”
Weariness veiled his eyes, as though the “difficulties” had been almost too much to bear.
Flint ran his hand down her arm and laced his fingers with hers, as he had every morning and night for over fourteen winters. A desperate sense of gratitude filled her. Only a short time ago, she had felt utterly alone. Now, suddenly, he was here beside her. And he was the one person who might actually be able to help her. After all, as the local hero, he could wander Eagle Flute Village freely. Perhaps, if she was very careful, she could glean information from him without asking him to spy for her.
Sora lifted herself to kiss him, a bare touch of her lips to his, but it made his eyes glow like black moons.
Against her lips, he whispered, “I want you. Do you want me? It may kindle old fires.”
Almost as though it moved without her knowledge, her hand lowered to touch his rigid manhood. A small exquisite sound of pleasure escaped his throat.
Flint pushed away the deerhide, and she gazed at his muscular body. She remembered every scar and birthmark as though she had touched them only last night.
She placed a tender kiss on the white scar beneath his left breast, which he’d gotten in a knife fight as a young warrior. Luckily his enemy’s knife had struck a rib and deflected the point, or he’d be dead.
Next, she kissed her way down the dark line of hair to his navel, where she pressed her mouth against three scars—smaller, barely visible lines—made by her own fingernails. She’d been young, too eager to have him inside her.
When she slid down and kissed his manhood, a shudder went through him. He said, “I had forgotten the feel of your lips.”
She used her tongue, and Flint’s fingers dug into the hides. After another hundred heartbeats, he said, “Take me full in your mouth, Sora.”
She did it, and he put his hands on her head, and began forcing her down upon him. His breath came in short agonized gasps.
Even when he cried out and his warm seed burst into her mouth, she did not release him. For a long time, her lips continued to wring soft sounds of pleasure from his throat.
Finally, he pulled her up to look at him. Dreamlike pleasure sparkled in his eyes, softening his expression. He took her face in his hands and said, “Blessed gods, I have missed you.”
She stretched out beside him, and he gathered up her long
black hair and spread it across his chest like a silken blanket, then petted it.
It took her a few moments to work up the courage to ask, “Flint, did it ever occur to you that Skinner might have killed White Fawn?”
For a time he didn’t move at all; then his fists clenched. “No. Why would he?”
“Out of jealousy. He’d lost you to a woman once before. Maybe he couldn’t stand to let it happen again.”
“He wouldn’t have hurt me that way, Sora. It’s impossible.”
Like obsidian-sharp wings, strange emotions fluttered her belly, slicing, stabbing. Flint had easily believed Skinner when he’d suggested that Sora was the culprit who’d killed White Fawn, but he refused to even consider the possibility that Skinner had murdered her? Why had she never realized how blindly devoted Flint was to Skinner? How much he’d trusted him?
“Wasn’t White Fawn murdered before the two of you met up at Big Cypress Spring? While Skinner was still out on the trail?”
“Leave it alone, Sora.” His voice had turned low, threatening. “Skinner didn’t kill her. You did.”
“But, Flint, isn’t it at least possible—”
“I said
no!
’” he shouted in her face, and lunged to his feet.
As he walked over and picked up his shirt, his belly muscles tightened.
“Flint, I swear to you, Skinner tried to kill me, too. In the forest. He tried to choke me to death.”
He shook his head violently. “He did that in self-defense, after you poisoned him. Wink told me all about it.”
Suddenly cold, she shivered. “I don’t remember giving him poison. He—”
“You’d better start remembering, my sweet murderess, or Strongheart will never be able to help you, and your best friend, Wink, will be forced to slit your throat.”
He roughly jerked his shirt over his head, walked to the door, and ducked outside.
Sora sank back against the hides and stared at the swaying curtain.
I’ve been such a fool … all along.

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