SHE’D LEFT HER CAPE IN HER CHAMBER, AND THE RUN through the rain drenched her blue dress. By the time she neared Teal’s house, her black hair stuck to her face in wet locks. She trotted beneath the overhanging eaves and called, “Teal?”
There was a lengthy pause before he answered, “Just a moment, Chieftess.”
Far Eye stood beside her, his cape clinging to his broad chest. The soaked fabric outlined every muscle.
“When you are finished here,” he said. “I must see you alone.”
“Why?” She wrung out her hair.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
He gazed out across the rain-stippled lake. The far trees were invisible, obscured by the swirling mist that drifted across the green surface. The cacophony of birdsong had dwindled. Only the distinctive
see-e-e-e
of a cedar waxwing carried through the downpour.
Far Eye murmured, “You told him everything, didn’t you?”
“Who?”
“Feather Dancer. I could tell by the way he looked at me when he came out of your house. What did he say?”
“We discussed the situation with Water Hickory Clan. We didn’t say anything that pertained to you.”
His mouth pursed distastefully. “You’ve never been a good liar, Sora. What does he want? My destruction? Did he tell you I was evil?”
What could be taking Teal so long? She could hear him moving about inside. Was he talking to someone? Soft hisses penetrated around the door hanging.
“He didn’t say anything about you, Far Eye,” she repeated impatiently.
“Don’t call me that. You know that’s not who I am.”
He flexed his hands and clenched them into tight fists. It was something she’d seen Flint do a thousand times.
Think about this! It’s just a gesture. He could have learned it in five heartbeats from anyone who knew Flint!
She leaned closer to the door hanging and called, “Teal?”
“Yes, Chieftess, you may come in now.”
Hastily, she tore aside the hanging and stepped into the warm orange glow. Teal stood in front of the fire with his hands out. He was shivering.
“Teal? Are you well?” she asked in concern as she crossed the floor.
“It’s a small illness. Nothing more. I’ve been preparing the body of War Chief Skinner. I fear some of the evil spirits of corruption sneaked into me when I wasn’t looking.” He waved a skeletal hand. “Don’t fret about it. I just need a good purging.”
He looked even thinner today than he had yesterday. His knobby arms thrust out of his brown sleeves like skin-covered bones.
“What did you need?” he asked with a tremulous smile.
“Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t sleeping, just lying beneath a mound of blankets. My fever is high, I think.”
Worried, Sora hurried to him and placed a hand to his forehead. “You’re very hot, Teal. Perhaps I should send for a Healer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the best Healer I know. I’ll tend to myself.” He gestured to the log bench in front of the fire. “Sit and tell me why you’re here.”
His bald head was shaking, reflecting the firelight like a seashell.
“You sit down,” she instructed. “I’ll stand.”
“As you wish.” He gingerly lowered himself to the bench and stared up at her with white-filmed eyes. “You met with Matron Sea Grass, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but that’s not why I wanted to speak with you.”
He folded his hands in his lap, waiting.
Sora paced before the fire. “I wanted to talk with you about Skinner.”
“His preparations are coming along fine. I suspect Sea Grass will take his cleaned bones with her when she leaves. What else is there to say?”
Feather Dancer’s questions haunted her like old words that should never have been said. “I’m worried about Wink.”
“In what way?”
“She seems … preoccupied … with Skinner’s death.”
His sparse white brows lifted. “He was a war chief. His prestige alone would be enough to disturb anyone. She still does not know what his clan intends to do—”
“I resolved that matter, Teal. I offered my own life to Sea Grass to compensate her for Skinner’s death.”
The fragrance of the rain soaking into the bark walls filled the chamber.
He stiffened in surprise. “Why did you do that?”
“I must have given him the entire pot of poison, Teal. You said to give him a pinch. I alone am to blame.”
“Then we must now hope Sea Grass does not accept your offer.
She shouldn’t. Not after what I told her about the shadow-soul malingering in her son. Is that what you came to tell me? That you had offered your life?”
“No. I wanted to ask you a question.”
“I am at your disposal, of course. What did you wish to know?”
“Do you think Skinner and Wink might have been working on a secret Trade agreement?”
“An agreement to do what?”
“I don’t want to say yet. Did you hear any rumors, any tidbits of conversations that aroused your suspicions?”
“When you say a ‘secret’ agreement, I assume you mean an agreement that you knew nothing about?”
“Yes.”
He scratched his wrinkled jaw. “An agreement that, perhaps, the council knew nothing about?”
“That’s what worries me the most.”
He gave her a curious look. “I don’t believe she would betray Shadow Rock Clan. I certainly don’t think she would betray you. She loves you too much. It’s possible, of course, that by keeping you out of such negotiations she might be protecting you should things go poorly. Why?”
“It may explain her preoccupation with his death. She just seems unduly concerned. Have you noticed that?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.” Teal appeared suddenly uneasy, or perhaps it was just his illness. He looked frail enough to collapse at any instant. “Now, please answer a question for me.”
“Yes?”
“What are you feeling right now?”
“Feeling?”
“You are very agitated. This is more than worry about a secret Trade agreement. What’s wrong?”
She closed her eyes for a few blessed instants and answered, “I think I’m being manipulated. I—I’m afraid that someone, or perhaps several people, is plotting—”
“I don’t think that’s what you’re really afraid of, is it?”
She forced herself to take a deep breath. He was a canny old man, well schooled in people’s expressions and fears. “No, he—he’s alive, Teal.”
Teal frowned, and deep furrows cut across his forehead. “Are you trying to tell me that Flint’s shadow-soul slipped inside you the night Skinner died?”
“Possibly, for a short time, but … I don’t think he’s there now.”
“Does that mean you believe he’s moved on to someone else?”
Sora blankly watched the firelight dance on the hearthstones. She didn’t want to tell him. Not yet. “I’m not sure, Teal. What I’m really afraid of …”
When her voice faded, his old eyes narrowed. “What are you afraid of?”
Through a long exhalation, she said, “I’m afraid all of this might be a hoax. That someone is trying to make me think Flint’s shadow-soul is alive and by doing so they hope to force me to step down. I—”
“Who? Who would do that?”
She shrugged. “I can’t say for certain.”
His gaze darted around the chamber for twenty breaths; then he looked back at her. “You think Matron Wink would harm you because you killed her political ally and destroyed her chances of finishing a lucrative Trade agreement?”
“No, gods, that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“There are things happening that I don’t understand, Teal! I’ve been wondering if Skinner wasn’t more than a political ally. She may have been his lover. Or—or Rockfish’s lover, or even …” It surprised her that she found it difficult to say: “Even Flint’s.”
Teal lowered his gaze to stare at gray flakes of ash that perched on the hearthstones. It seemed to take a long time for him to think about his question before he said, “Let me see if I understand this. You believe Matron Wink was involved with Skinner, Rockfish, and
Flint. Is that all? Or do you have other names you want to add to the list?”
Having him put it that way made it sound suddenly ludicrous. She colored.
“I’m not accusing her, Teal. I just—”
“Of course you’re accusing her. The question is why?”
“I’m just trying to clarify things in my own heart.”
The rain on the roof had grown stronger, pounding down like angry fists.
His white-filmed eyes closed to slits. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about the fact that if any of these ‘Trade agreements’ were proved to have been made without the council’s knowledge Matron Wink would certainly be executed for treason. You know she would. Shadow Rock Clan would demand it.”
Sora started to object, but stopped as the ramifications of her questions seeped in. “Blessed gods, if anyone ever finds out I asked you these questions—”
“It will appear that you are trying to cause
her
downfall. Yes, it certainly will.” He paused to massage his right knee before he added, “You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, of course I don’t. I love her.”
Then how could you ever have believed it possible?
The very fact that she’d come to Teal to ask him these questions proved she didn’t love Wink. It may have been a subtle act of disloyalty, but it was disloyal nonetheless. She had just planted the seeds of rumors that might result in Wink’s death.
“Teal, please do not ever mention to anyone that I suggested—”
“I won’t.” He cocked his head and gave her an inquiring stare. “If you will tell me who you’ve been talking to. Someone must have told you those things. You’d never think of them yourself. Who suggested the matron might be working on a secret Trade agreement with Water Hickory Clan?”
“I can’t answer that.”
She’d been treacherous enough for one day. She wasn’t about to
betray Feather Dancer. At this point, he was the only objective advisor she had.
Teal rose to his feet on shaking legs. “Well, whoever it was,
stop listening to him.
He’s not trying to help you.” He made a shooing gesture with both hands. “Now, go away. I must rest.”
“Forgive me, Teal. Are you certain I can’t send—”
“I think you’ve done quite enough for one day, Chieftess. Go home and ask yourself why you’re beginning to think these thoughts. The answer to your heartache lies in that question.
Why?”
As he hobbled toward his sleeping bench, something fell in the charnel house.
She swung around to stare at the entryway. The curtain swayed slightly, as though it had been brushed by the air of someone’s passing.
“Is someone back there?” she asked in sudden terror.
Had everything she’d said been overheard? By whom?
“Mice,” Teal said with a gruff sigh. “They love to gnaw on fresh bones.”
A shudder went up her spine.
Sora swallowed hard and backed toward his door. “Thank you, Teal. I’ll send someone over to check on you later.”
SHE DUCKED OUT THE FRONT ENTRANCE INTO A DELUGE OF rain. The drops were so thick she could barely make out the shape of Persimmon Lake. Far Eye peered from around the north side of the house.
“Come here, Chieftess. It’s mostly dry.”
She stayed beneath the eaves, walking just inside the drip-line, until she could slide around the corner and stand next to him. He lifted his cape, inviting her to step beneath it with him.
Sora shook her head. “I’m fine.”
The wind blew from the south, leaving a dry swath ten hands wide on this side of the house.
“What’s wrong?” he asked suspiciously.
“I just don’t want to.”
As he let the cape down, his eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
No matter what Feather Dancer said, when she looked into this man’s eyes, she knew it was Flint looking back. It was more than his gestures, or the way he loved her. They had always had a special
connection. In some bizarre spiritual way, their souls could touch. He
felt
like Flint.
“Sora, listen.” Panic edged his voice. “Very soon there will be dozens of warriors standing guard around your house.”
“Yes. So?”
“How will we meet?”
“We can’t, Flint.”
“Don’t say that. You want to see me. I know you do.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
He grabbed her and forced her against the wall. For a few instants, she struggled in vain to extricate herself from his powerful arms; then she sank against him.
“Flint, please, you must leave me alone for a while. I’m risking everything—”
“When didn’t we risk everything to be together, Sora?” He kissed her forehead and nose. When his lips met hers, she kissed him back.
It was surreal, standing there with her body pressed hard against his. They would be in plain sight if it weren’t for the wall of rain that hid them. It reminded her of the days just before he’d left. They’d rarely been more than a few paces apart.
That’s because he refused to let you out of his sight.
“Oh, Sora, how am I going to get in to see you with fifty warriors blocking the way?” His hands rose to massage her breasts, and his kisses grew more insistent. “I can’t stand being away from you.”
He pressed against her, and she felt his hard manhood.
The growls of Thunderbirds echoed over the forest. “Why are you still here, Flint? The night Skinner died, you told me you had to leave.”
“I have a little time left. Until midnight tonight. That’s all. Then I really do have to go.”
He reached between her legs. His fingers pressed the damp fabric of her dress inside her. It felt cool, the texture rough.
“Flint, don’t. If the rain stops, people will be able to see us. I can’t allow—”
“Yes, you can. You’ve done it before.”
When she tried to get away, he roughly shoved her against the wall. Cold fear surged in her veins. It took a few awkward moments of jerking up her dress, prying her open with his fingers, and thrusting hard for him to finally get inside her, but when he did, he groaned and strained against her like a starving man finding food.
He moaned, “I can’t leave you, Sora. I can’t.”
“You don’t want to become a homeless ghost, do you? Wandering the earth, forever alone?”
His hot breath rasped against her neck. “I’ll still have you.”
She’d heard of homeless ghosts who fought so hard to continue “living” that they eventually drove their loved ones mad. She could imagine ten or twenty winters of seeing him looking at her from new eyes every few days, of feeling the hands of a man she barely knew on her body … of having a stranger pumping his warm seed inside her.
Something moved below the mound: a dark shadow drifting through the downpour. She thought for a terrifying instant that it might be a man. Tall and slender. Then it evaporated and was gone.
“Flint, you must leave. For your own good. Your relatives are waiting for you in the afterlife.”
He thrust harder, pounding her body against the wall. She feared Teal might hear them and come out to see what they were doing. Not only that, the rain had begun to subside.
“Flint, I can make out Persimmon Lake, which means that people will soon duck outside—”
“Just a little longer.”
He grabbed her around the waist and drove himself into her. There was something about the combination of his wild thrusts and the danger of being seen that stoked her passions. She tightened her muscles around his manhood. He moaned. It took only heartbeats
for him to gasp and shudder. As he went limp, hot fluid leaked down the insides of her thighs.
The rain turned to a soft drizzle. People emerged from their houses along the shoreline and began to resume their duties.
“Sora, you must find a way to get me into your house tonight. I have to see you one last time. You need me. I know you do.”
“I’ll try.” She stepped away from him and rearranged her blue dress.
As she started down the mound slope, he said, “Have Feather Dancer assign me to stand guard outside your bedchamber door. That way, once your husband is asleep, I can come to you.”
“No, that’s too risky. He might waken.”
She tried to walk away, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. His fingers dug into her wrist with such force, they would leave bruises. “Perhaps I’ll come to you anyway. I’ll slit his throat and take you with him lying dead beside us.”
Blessed gods, he means it.
She forced herself to say, “Be close at midnight. I’ll send someone to fetch you.”
He cocked his head suspiciously, as though he thought she might be lying, saying what he wanted to hear just to make him let go of her arm, but he nodded. “I’ll be waiting.
Don’t forget about me, or I’ll have to find a way myself.”
The threat chilled her.
If she didn’t call for him at midnight, what would he do? Fight his way through fifty guards to get to her? Or maybe his soul could pass through whispers from man to man to man …
She hurried down the mound—with Far Eye two steps behind her—wondering if Flint had ever intended to travel the road to the afterlife.
Maybe staying with her, as she’d once begged him to, was an insane form of punishment.
Or worse.
Vengeance.