It Sleeps in Me (17 page)

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Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear

BOOK: It Sleeps in Me
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At the words, Rockfish jerked as if slapped. It would not be the first time that a war chief had forged an agreement without the knowledge of his clan matron or village chief. Perhaps Grown Bear had been working for himself all along. “If Water Hickory Clan could force you to step down as chieftess, it would disgrace the Shadow Rock Clan, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Long Fin would not ascend to the chieftainship.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“Who’s next in line?”
“Short Tail.”
A throbbing knot formed in his belly. “Short Tail is Water Hickory Clan.” He clenched a fist at his own stupidity. “I wonder how much they paid Grown Bear to play along.”
“Our share of the jade would have been enough.”
As the truth began to sink into his exhausted souls, new fears emerged. He’d worked very hard to get an agreement from his people to go after the jade. In the council meeting, two of the village matrons had refused to participate. The bitter fight that ensued would be spoken of for generations. Right now, at this very moment, his people were assembling warriors. What role had he played in this debacle? Perhaps it had never occurred to Water Hickory Clan or Grown Bear that Rockfish’s people might be interested? Then again,
perhaps it had.
“Sora, I lied to you.”
Her trusting eyes suddenly went dark and impenetrable. “About what?”
“My people committed three hundred warriors to go after the jade.”
She rubbed her throat as though nausea tickled the back of her tongue. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Wink said you had enough to worry about, and it was irrelevant anyway, because she was going to change her council vote to no.”
The door curtain waffled, and cold, rain-scented wind blew around the chamber. As the fire leaped, shadows danced on the walls. He found himself listening intently for steps in the corridor, but heard nothing.
“What else did Wink say?”
“She said if my people wanted to go after the jade, they’d have to work out their own agreement with Blue Bow.”
Sora took a deep breath and tipped her face to stare at the azure gleam streaming through the smoke hole. Her long neck shone a pale blue. “There’s something missing, Rockfish—some fundamental piece to the puzzle that we haven’t found yet.”
“What do you mean? This all looks perfectly clear to me.” But as a new picture began to form, he whispered, “Unless …”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But you’re frightened. Why?”
He swung his legs off the sleeping bench. Despite his exhaustion, he had the overwhelming urge to dress and head back north to his own people. “Sora, when my people learn that Shadow Rock Clan has backed out of the war party, they’ll be outraged. They’ll immediately start looking for new allies. It won’t be long until they’ve forged an alliance with Blue Bow and Water Hickory Clan. When that happens …”
She seemed to wilt before his eyes. “Shadow Rock Clan will be doomed. But why, Rockfish? What have we done to them?”
“You’ve been
timid,
Sora. You blocked Water Hickory Clan when they wanted to make war on the Loon People. You blocked them when they wanted to raid the Conch Shell People to gain their oyster beds, and when they wanted to shove the Red Owl People out of their buffalo-hunting territory.” He nodded soberly. “You’ve been in the way. And, apparently, so have I.”
Her beautiful face slackened in understanding.
“Yes,” she murmured, “and when Wink tells the other matrons that she’s changing her council vote about the jade, she’ll be in the way, too.”
“We have to go to Wink right now, to warn her—”
“No, not yet.” Sora held up a hand, signaling him to slow down. “There are too many things that still don’t make sense. I need to think about this for a while.”
He could tell she meant Flint.
That
softness filled her eyes.
“What things, Sora?”
She pulled her sleep shirt off and gestured for him to lie down again. He did. As she bent to kiss the hair below his navel, a tingle went through his tired muscles. Her mouth moved lower.
“I know you’re exhausted,” she whispered as she gripped his
manhood. “Just relax. Let me please you. I need to be close to you tonight.”
He tried, but he couldn’t help thinking that war loomed in the very near future, and to make matters worse, there was a difference in her touch; it was not as gentle as he remembered; he was fairly certain she was pretending he was Flint … or maybe Skinner.
When he didn’t seem to be responding, she bit the tip of his manhood, hard enough to make him shudder, and started to lick, going from the root to the tip in long, lazy strokes. Her tongue seemed to know every tender, sensitive place on a man’s body, and she worked each with practiced assurance.
It didn’t take long before he’d relaxed enough to fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.
 
 
AS SHE HAD ON MANY OCCASIONS, SORA QUIETLY ROLLED away from him and lay staring up at the firelit ceiling. She wondered if anything he’d told her tonight was true. He’d seemed genuinely worried, and everything he’d proposed had made sense. But that didn’t make it true. He could be in league with her enemies, working from inside to bring her down. When his people’s three hundred warriors arrived, who was to say they wouldn’t attack Blackbird Town?
Perhaps he’d just been playing his role to perfection tonight.
Tears burned her eyes.
Dear gods, don’t think about it.
She rose and dressed.
When she pulled aside the curtain at the front entrance, she found Far Eye standing there. The morning glow gave his long black hair a purple tint. Sometime in the night, he must have replaced Feather Dancer as her guard. Good. Feather Dancer needed the rest. The last time she’d seen him, he’d looked like he was ready to fall asleep on his feet.
“Chieftess,” Far Eye said. “Are you well?”
His nostrils flared slightly, as though he could smell her distinctive musk.
She tugged her goose-feather cape more tightly about her. “I’m going for a walk in the forest. If my husband rises, tell him—”
“My orders are very clear, Chieftess. Feather Dancer threatened my life if I did not accompany you everywhere you went. He said you might be in danger and I was to look after you, no matter what you said.”
The situation irked her. She wanted to be alone, to think straightly, but she knew Feather Dancer’s instincts for danger were far more finely tuned than hers.
“Very well. But please stay a few paces behind me. I need as much privacy as possible.”
“Of course, Chieftess.” His elaborate tattoos flashed when he bowed.
Sora marched down the steps and took the trail that led around the lake toward the burned-out tree. Mother Sun’s gleam rode the waves like an iridescent lavender blanket. As she passed the houses on the shore, she heard voices. People had started to rise. Babies cried. By the time she returned, there would be dozens standing on the bank fishing for breakfast, and each person would want to speak with her.
Far Eye followed her so unobtrusively she almost forgot he was there.
Lost in thoughts, she arrived at the fallen log long before she’d realized it. She stopped. The burned-out tree stood in front of her. Had it only been five nights ago that she’d sat here with Rockfish and listened to him talk about how much he wanted the jade? Enough to propose that she send a war party out to capture Grown Bear and torture him into telling them where to find the Scarlet Macaw People. She’d been waiting for Flint, expecting him to emerge from the forest at any moment.
“You know how it happened, don’t you?” Far Eye softly asked.
“What?” She spun around.
“How Skinner died.”
A numb sensation spread down her spine as fear shot through her. Far Eye had found them by the pond. Did he know something he hadn’t told Feather Dancer?
“No, I don’t. Do you?”
Images flitted across her souls … Skinner moving inside her, then his fingers around her throat, his roars …
Far Eye gave her a secret smile, as though he knew
exactly
what she was thinking. “You missed me, didn’t you?”
Involuntarily, she recoiled a step. “What are you talking about?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said. “You knew I was alive.”
It wasn’t Flint’s voice, but every inflection, the way his mouth moved,
was.
“What do you remember after we coupled?”
Mute, she shook her head.
“Nothing? Good. I didn’t think you would.”
Sora struggled with the sensation of horror that had started to spread through her veins like fire. How was Far Eye involved in the plan? Who had put him up to this?
“How … ?”
“How did I do it?”
He walked forward, slipped his arm through hers, and guided her to the log, where he pulled her down beside him. His touch made her skin crawl. The scent of the lake was particularly strong here. She forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to slow her racing heart.
“Skinner drove me out, Sora. I had no place to go, except inside you. When I took over your body I convinced Skinner to talk with me. I had always been his greatest love. I begged him to give me just a few moments. He agreed.”
She stared hard at his young, handsome face, but inside she was quaking. “And then you killed him.”
“Not right away.” He frowned out at the lake. Ducks quacked in the distance. Their wings batted the green water, sending out
bobbing silver rings. “We talked until almost dawn. We’d been laughing, sharing a pot of tea, when he thought he heard something in the forest. He turned, and I slipped the poison into his cup.”
Far Eye’s jaw clenched, and she could see his teeth grinding beneath the thin veneer of tattooed skin.
Could he have pieced this together from details gleaned at the pond?
Their plan is evolving … . Feather Dancer was right.
“When did he realize what you’d done?”
“Skinner saw dregs of the powder in the bottom of the cup. I think he could feel it taking hold by then, too.”
“You fought?”
He expelled a breath. “In your body, I wasn’t strong enough to fend him off. I had to do something. He managed to club you senseless. When I realized he might kill you, I slipped back into his body and
made
him stop.”
She tried to add up the numbers. How many people had to be involved in the plot to make it work? At least Far Eye, Skinner, and Flint. Probably Grown Bear, Wood Fern, and Sea Grass.
In a calm, quiet voice, she asked, “Why didn’t you slip back into me when he was dying?”
He gave her a small, intimate smile. “Would you have protected me?”
“Yes.”
He lifted a hand and ran his fingertips down her face. She shuddered. “Do you love me that much?”
“I always have.”
Teal’s words floated up from the depths of her heart:
“All shadow-souls have a single goal, Chieftess: They want to find someone who will cherish having them inside. He thinks you are that person.”
If this was Flint—Gods, stop thinking that! He’s part of the plan to cause your downfall and the downfall of your clan!
—he’d had the chance to stay inside her. But he’d left. Why?
“He couldn’t satisfy you tonight, could he?” Far Eye asked, his gaze deftly taking in every nuance of her expression.
“Who?”
“Your husband. I could tell the moment you stepped outside. I knew you’d needed a man and hadn’t had one available.”
Only Flint knew her well enough …
He smiled, and the coiled serpents tattooed on his cheeks seemed to writhe. “I’d forgotten how it feels to be strong and filled with wild desires.” He flexed his arms. The muscles rippled.
How many people on the face of Grandmother Earth could act this well? Even if Far Eye had been schooled in Flint’s mannerisms, surely he couldn’t copy that distinctive tilt of the head, that smile.
For the first time, she genuinely began to think maybe the problem was not out there, not with a dozen people who were trying to trick her,
but inside her.
Had she been under enough stress that her soul had started wandering away from her body?
There are things you don’t remember … . You had a nightmare about running through thick trees, lost, alone … .
During her mother’s rule, several people had lost their reflection-souls while they were alive. A priest had always gone to search for the lost soul in the forest. Sometimes he could find it and bring it back to the body. Other times, the soul wandered farther and farther away, until no one could bring it back and it couldn’t find its own way home. Without the reflection-soul, the living person simply couldn’t think anymore. They started stammering, couldn’t remember what had happened to them five heartbeats ago, and created elaborately skewed visions of reality by stringing together facts that bore no actual relationship. Toward the end, they just sat and stared at nothing all day long until their bodies died—or their relatives generously cracked their skulls with a war club.

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