It Wakes in Me (5 page)
Authors: Kathleen O'Neal Gear
HER HAND TREMBLED WHEN SHE LIFTED THE FIRST SPOONFUL of clams to her mouth. She fought to steady it, but she was surprisingly weak. As she gobbled the stew, broth spilled onto her blankets. How many days had it been since she’d left Blackbird Town? She had no idea. Gods, had she ever felt this lonely and frightened? She longed for the magnificent peaked-roof houses, beautifully incised copper breastplates, and elaborate jewelry that distinguished the elite rulers of the Black Falcon Nation. The Loon People had different ways, different gods.
Most of all, I miss Wink
.
.
A gaping hole had opened inside her and sucked out her heart, leaving a thunderous emptiness. She and Wink had been friends for twenty-five winters, since the day Sora’s father died.
“Where is your shadow-soul roaming?” Strongheart asked.
She chewed another bite of clams and looked up at him. He paced at the foot of her blankets with his arms folded beneath his cape. His round face, hooked nose, and shorn black hair had picked up the orange gleam of the fire.
“I was thinking about my friend, Wink.”
“Were you remembering something from the past?”
“Yes. The day my father died.”
“Ah.” He smoothed a hand over his chin. “You had seen seven winters, hadn’t you? What happened?”
She ate two more bites before she decided whether or not she would tell him. “My mother, Chieftess Yellow Cypress, went mad. That’s no secret. People for five moons’ walk in every direction knew about it.”
“Yes, one of our elders told me that she ran through Blackbird Town screaming.”
“Mostly she ran up and down the halls of the Chieftess’ House, but on occasion she went outside.”
Sora recalled the terrified looks people had given her when she finally was allowed to leave her mother’s house. She hadn’t understood at the time. Later, she realized that many of the townspeople feared her father’s shadow-soul had slipped inside her and driven away her reflection-soul. Shadow-souls desperate to stay alive moved from body to body.
“Did Matron Wink help you?” Strongheart’s voice came softly, as though he did not want to disturb her remembrances.
“Yes.” She looked down, and her reflection-soul gazed up at her from the stew broth, its dark eyes sad. Long black hair framed her oval face, but she appeared pale and vulnerable. “I remember that first day with perfect clarity. I was lying on my sleeping bench with hides pressed over my ears, trying to block Mother’s shrieks, when Wink came in. She was four winters older than I was: eleven. She curled against my back and stroked my hair. I don’t—”
“Where was your older sister, Walks-among-the-Stars?”
Sora shrugged. “I don’t know. We had different interests. She was almost a woman. I was still a child.”
“She died three winters later, didn’t she?”
“Yes. In a canoe accident. I was with her. I made it to shore. She didn’t.” A chill went through her, and her shadow-soul flashed backward in time until she found herself staring up through green, almost opaque water at her sister’s body floating above her—eyes wide open, arms and legs sprawled. Blood flowed out from her sister’s mouth and left a dark cloud in the water.
Cold. I’m so cold
.
Cold. I’m so cold
.
“I interrupted you,” Strongheart said. “Please go on. You were saying that Wink came in and comforted you after your father’s death.”
She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. “I don’t think we spoke much, but Wink was there every time Mother burst in and started ranting at me. While I shivered, Wink screamed back, trying to protect me.”
When she opened her eyes, Strongheart was peering at her with a strange expression—not sympathy, more like anxious curiosity. “You must have loved her for that.”
“The love for Wink that was born in my heart that day will never go away, no matter what Wink does, or fails to do.”
“Then it must be difficult for you to know that she sent you here.”
Angrily, she answered, “No one,
no one
, will ever convince me that Wink betrayed me! If she sent me here it’s because she truly believes I need to be Healed and you can do it.”
no one
, will ever convince me that Wink betrayed me! If she sent me here it’s because she truly believes I need to be Healed and you can do it.”
Dear gods, I’ve betrayed her … .
Sora shook her head. Despite what she thought she remembered Wink saying, it simply was not in Wink to do something like that.
Though … she was brilliant at political intrigue and deception.
Sora’s pulse increased, pounding in her ears. Blessed gods, is that what was really going on? She was caught up in some elaborate plan that Wink had spawned to … accomplish what?
“Priest Strongheart?”
a man called from outside. “May we enter?”
a man called from outside. “May we enter?”
Strongheart stared at the door curtain, and his jaw clenched. He whispered, “Hurry. Finish your clams. I’ll occupy them for as long as I can.”
Sora gobbled down the last few bites while she watched Strongheart slowly walk to the door, pull the leather curtain aside, and drape it back over a peg on the door frame. Two men stood outside, their tall bodies silhouetted against the lavender gleam of sunset. Warriors. They both carried clubs in their fists and wore painted deerskin loincloths.
Strongheart said, “Whose orders do you carry?”
“The Council of Elders requests that you bring the prisoner out so that our people might see their chief ’s murderer.”
Strongheart looked back at Sora.
She set her bowl aside and unsteadily got to her feet. When she looked down at her dress, she blinked. It did not belong to her. It was one of Wink’s best dresses.
She dressed me for the journey
. Pearls covered the bodice of the finely woven sky blue dress.
She dressed me for the journey
. Pearls covered the bodice of the finely woven sky blue dress.
Sora made an effort to smooth her hair and the wrinkles from her sleeves; then she drew herself up and said, “I did not murder your chief, but I will face your people.”
She squared her shoulders and walked forward. The warriors backed away to allow her to exit. Just before she ducked out, Strongheart touched her shoulder, stopping her.
In a bare whisper, he said, “Our people are forbidden to speak with new prisoners, but that does not mean they will obey. No matter what they ask, tell them only that you do not recall the murder. My people have great sympathy for those whose souls are wandering the forest lost and alone. They have no sympathy for the arrogant.”
She swallowed hard. “I understand.”
As she ducked beneath the curtain, the crowd eddied and a
din of hushed voices filled the air. Wide eyes fastened on her. Both men and women wore their hair long and had pointed fingernails that could clearly be used as weapons. Perhaps fifty people had gathered to see her, but she recognized no one of any status. They were all commoners, wearing rough colorless garments and ordinary shell bracelets, necklaces, and carved wooden earpins. Interestingly, only a few people had tattoos, and they were of simple design. Nothing like the intricate geometric wonders that covered Strongheart’s body.
din of hushed voices filled the air. Wide eyes fastened on her. Both men and women wore their hair long and had pointed fingernails that could clearly be used as weapons. Perhaps fifty people had gathered to see her, but she recognized no one of any status. They were all commoners, wearing rough colorless garments and ordinary shell bracelets, necklaces, and carved wooden earpins. Interestingly, only a few people had tattoos, and they were of simple design. Nothing like the intricate geometric wonders that covered Strongheart’s body.
If tattoos are a sign of rank, where are all of the elite? The rulers? As a common act of courtesy they ought to be here to first lay eyes upon a foreign chieftess
.
.
A man in the rear of the crowd, said, “Blessed Spirits, she’s more beautiful than the Traders claimed!”
A woman responded, “Yes, but look at her eyes. Her reflection-soul is not there. You can tell it’s out wandering!”
People shoved each other to get a better look at her eyes. As they hissed behind their hands and pointed at her, Sora tried to take in as much of her surroundings as she could.
In the distance, a larger crowd had gathered around a low mound. Each person held a bowl in his or her hands. Sora couldn’t see what was in the bowls, but the mound, ten body lengths across, was made of sand and stood six hands tall. On top of the mound, seven people stood around the corpse of a young girl. Heavily tattooed and wearing shining copper necklaces, they were old and gray-headed, probably elders. One of the women braced her walking stick, then stepped forward to sprinkle powdered red ochre over the dead body. Her quavery old voice carried on the wind, but the crowd around Sora was too noisy; she couldn’t understand any of the words.
“Who died?” Sora asked Strongheart.
“Elder Littlefield’s niece. That is her family burial mound.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“A Night-goer cast a spell upon her. She suffered from the Rainbow Black.”
Sora searched her memory, struggling to recall everything she could about Loon People witches. She knew they were called “Night-goers,” but she’d never heard of the Rainbow Black.
“What is this illness? I don’t know it.”
“It is a dizziness where the victim sees rainbows, then falls down and jerks all over.” He pulled his gaze from the burial and studied her for several intense moments. “I have heard that you suffer from the Rainbow Black.”
She couldn’t find the words to speak.
“Your former husband told me,” he explained.
From the age of seven winters, an Evil Spirit had tormented Sora. As the world went black, two gleaming eyes burned to life inside her. It came like a glittering blue torrent spilling out of the night, and the next thing she knew she woke with a mouthful of blood feeling exhausted. She remembered nothing of what happened after the eyes sprang to life. During her tenth winter she’d named the creature the Midnight Fox. Her mother had told her that when the Fox came Sora fell to the ground and her jaws snapped together like a foaming-mouthed dog’s. Throughout her childhood, her mother had sent her to one Healer after another. She’d eaten so many Spirit Plants that even the smell of them now sickened her. As she’d grown up, the Fox seemed to come less often, but she still felt him watching her, always there, right behind her eyes, ready to leap for her throat when she least suspected it.
“Couldn’t you cure her?” She gestured to the burial mound. “You are, after all, the most Powerful priest in this region.”
He smiled sadly. “There are many Night-goers who are far more Powerful than I am.”
“Then what makes you think you can cure me?”
His smile faded. “I’m not sure I can. First I must determine
why your reflection-soul won’t stay home, what it’s afraid of.”
why your reflection-soul won’t stay home, what it’s afraid of.”
“Afraid of?”
“Yes. There’s something in your body that keeps driving it away. My task, if my people allow it, will be to find out what it is, and how it got inside you.”
The Fox …
“Can’t you give me a potion, some Spirit Plant, to make me remember?”
The mournful look he gave her told the answer was no.
And she realized that since she’d seen seven winters, she’d been begging people for a potion to fix her life. First, she’d begged her mother. Then she’d begged Flint. Yet no potion, no plant, no plea to the gods had been able to kill the monster that nested inside her. She had come to believe that she and the Fox were intertwined like ancient lovers whose limbs had grown together over the eons. If one of them died, she was certain the other would, too.
Elder Littlefield wept loudly as she wrapped the body of her niece in a bright cloth; then all seven elders gripped the blanket and helped to lower the girl into the grave. After the mourners walked away from the mound, the people who’d been standing below came forward to empty their bowls of sand into the hole, covering the girl.
Sora took the opportunity to more closely examine Eagle Flute Village. It consisted of around thirty domelike houses spaced five body lengths apart, and arranged in a rough square that ran forty body lengths per side. Only two houses stood in the middle of the square: the Priest’s House and what she guessed was the Chief’s House. The village population appeared to be about three hundred, perhaps three hundred and fifty—small in comparison to her own Blackbird Town, where over one thousand people lived. A ring of magnolias encircled the village, and a short distance away she saw a vast marsh
filled with reeds and fluttering birds. All around the marsh, fields of corn, beans, and squash glistened an unearthly green.
filled with reeds and fluttering birds. All around the marsh, fields of corn, beans, and squash glistened an unearthly green.
“There is our new chief,” Strongheart said, and pointed.
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