People of the Mist (72 page)

 
          
“But
only for two Comings of the Leaves,” Water Snake insisted. “And I will deal
with the upstart on my own.”

 
          
“That
is between you and him,” Panther said amiably. “I think, however, that he, too,
might be amenable to some sort of arrangement.”

 
          
Water
Snake smiled crookedly. “It won’t last, you know. Eventually, I will have these
villages.”

 
          
“Perhaps,”
Panther answered, “but for now they do serve a purpose. What you lose in
authority, you gain by their ability to buffer Stone Frog’s Conoy. A wise Ma
manatowick would consider these things.”

 
          
“You
think I’m wise?”

 
          
“It’s
in the blood, nephew.”

 
          
This
was the first night of solstice. Sun Conch lay on her back in Rosebud’s long
house Pain lanced her body, and fever played with her swimming senses. Her long
hair covered her bedding like a shiny black halo, and sweat poured from her
skinny body. She had just enough strength to watch the fire lit shadows
prancing over the walls. The main fire had burned down to a steady flickering
blaze. The house was utterly still, but outside, she could hear the singing, the
clapping hands, and the dancers panting with exertion at the plaza.

 
          
Sun
Conch had listened to the talk about Black Spike’s death. She had lived in the
Weroance’s village, and knew him for a good and fair man—despite the way he’d
treated her that day in the plaza. What would
Three
Myrtle
Village
do without him?

 
          
High
Fox committed incest with Red Knot!

 
          
She
closed her eyes at the horror of it, and smoothed her fingers over the soft
deer hide that covered her chest.

 
          
She
had been wanting High Fox for so long, yearning to see him, but she didn’t know
how she felt now. If he was wise, his shame had sent him scurrying from
Flat
Pearl
Village
before the Weroansqua could convene a
council meeting to determine the manner of his death. But she wished he’d come
to say goodbye or sent word, some small gesture.

 
          
I
risked everything for you, High Fox.

 
          
She
prayed he was on the run. She could imagine him, bravely facing the world,
carving out a place for himself in some distant land.

 
          
Would
he act like The Panther, seeding out an island to deal with his demons? I could
wait, go there, and help him to overcome this terrible tragedy. She wasn’t
afraid, not of High Fox. It hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t known.

 
          
Sun
Conch inhaled and started shaking as her body went cold with chills. It hurt to
breathe. To take her mind off the pain, she looked up at the baskets and
loosely woven sacks that hung from the rafters. She could see the dried stems
of beans, and several large squash, as well as a variety of nuts. The long house
smelled sweetly of the wild rice bread and rose hip tea she’d had for
breakfast. A full gourd cup of tea sat near her head, but she had no desire to
drink. Or to do anything else. She could barely keep her eyes open.

 
          
“Mother?”
she murmured, and a sob caught in her throat. “Mother, I miss you.”

 
          
She
had been dreaming that her mother was here, taking care of her, her hands cool,
her voice loving. The familiar smells of their home had been comforting:
roasting corn and wood smoke, the dried rose petals that her mother mixed with
warm water to wash her hair.

 
          
A
tear traced down the side of her face. Her mother must be wondering about her,
probably worrying herself sick. For the first time since she’d left, Sun Conch
longed to run home and throw herself on the mercy of her family. If she pleaded
long enough, Aunt Threadleaf would forgive her.

 
          
Except…
except she couldn’t go home. The Panther had kept his part of the bargain, and
for that, she owed him her life.

 
          
Sun
Conch’s eyelids felt as heavy as stone. She fought the sensation, blinking and
trying to concentrate on the long house door, visible just beyond her feet. For
a time, she seemed to float, hovering above the warm hides, gliding toward the
ceiling with the fire’s smoke.

 
          
Then
the shadows by the doorway shifted furtively, and Sun Conch saw a hesitant
figure straighten and peer anxiously about. Seeing she was alone, he crept
forward, shoulders hunched, as if expecting a blow at any minute. For an
instant, she thought him but another of the floating illusions brought on by
her fever; then he spoke: “Sun Conch?”

 
          
“High
Fox? I thought you’d gone.”

 
          
“I—I
did. No one was watching, so I slipped out into the fog and hid in the forest.
But it’s night now, so I came back. I had to see you.” He wore a plain tan
blanket around his broad shoulders, and looked pale, his eyes sunken into twin
black circles, his hair hanging loosely about his shoulders. He knelt beside
Sun Conch and reached down to take her limp hand. His skin felt cool, so cool.
Sun Conch let herself drown in the sensation.

 
          
“The
village is full of the Mamanatowick’s warriors. And everyone is at the dance.
With the blanket over my head, no one would recognize me. I had to see you, to
beg you to come with me. Sun Conch, I need you now, more than I ever needed you
before.” He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I’m so alone! The whole
world has betrayed me!”

 
          
“You
just need to go away, High Fox, like The Panther did. Find a place for yourself
where no one knows you.”

 
          
“Go
away? But I didn’t know she was my sister! It’s not my fault! My father did
this to me! That lying, stinking vermin did this on purpose! He ruined me!”

 
          
“No,
High Fox, please. It’s time for you be courageous. You—”

 
          
“You’re
not listening to me! You didn’t hear a word that I said!”

 
          
“High
Fox—”

 
          
“I
need you, Sun Conch. Everyone else has turned their back on me..I’m afraid.
Don’t you see? Just being here, someone could kill me. They blame me for it!”

 
          
“High
Fox, you must face—”

 
          
“Run
off with me, Sun Conch? Please. I beg you!”

 
          
She
closed her eyes, feeling as if her soul were draining away, being sucked into
him the way a leech drew a person’s blood.

 
          
“Sun
Conch? If you don’t help me, I… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

 
          
She
said nothing, frightened for him. What had The Panther said? That he was a
coward, a whiner?

 
          
He
squeezed her hand tightly. “The Panther’s been watching over you like a sow
with her first cub. This is the first chance I’ve had. I came to take you with
me. Right now.”

 
          
“I
can’t go, High Fox. I’m hurt badly. You must be brave enough to leave alone.”

 
          
High
Fox pressed her palm to his cheek. “But I don’t want to leave. I didn’t do
anything wrong! My father killed Red Knot. This is his fault! I knew he was a
murderer at heart. It used to sicken me the way he acted on battle walks. Do
you remember the gleam he got in his eyes? He enjoyed killing, Sun Conch!”

 
          
“No
… no, High Fox. Don’t…”

 
          
He
reached down suddenly and drew something from beneath his tan blanket. It
looked like a bone, split, blackened. “I pulled this from the ashes. I’m going
to keep it, to remind me of what he did to me, and to himself!”

 
          
He
clutched the bone, and a soft mournful sound strained against his closed lips.
“I’m tainted forever, Sun Conch, and it’s his fault. He let me commit incest!
You should see it. People won’t even look at me! Me! You’d think I was some
horrible disease walking past. Someone will kill me, I know it.”

 
          
Sun
Conch struggled to make her thumb work, to press High Fox’s cheek. “Look at
me.”

 
          
He
lifted his head, and in his eyes, she saw hatred.

 
          
For
a moment, her heart stood still, then a tingling sensation filtered through her
body. “Your father,” she said, and tried to get air into her lungs without
flinching, “was a … a good man, High Fox. Don’t… hate him.”

 
          
A
sob came to his throat and he placed her hand back on the deer hide and
clutched the bone to his heart. Rocking back and forth, he bawled like a child.
“Come with me, Sun Conch! You and I, together, we’ll show them. All the people
who have ever hurt us! We’ll pay them back! That’s it. We’ll make them suffer
until they scream for forgiveness!”

 
          
She
watched him tiredly, looking for something. Some shred of strength or, perhaps,
love for her. She didn’t know. She was so weary.

 
          
High
Fox shifted to sit cross-legged beside her. Wiping his tears on the corner of
his tan blanket, he said, “Sun Conch?” She let out a slow painful breath. Less
than a quarter moon ago, she would have said, You have me. High Fox. Don’t
worry, I’ll take care of you. But as he sat there clutching that charred bone
in his fist…

 
          
She
said, “Go away, High Fox. Please .. just go.”

 
          
“No,
you listen, Sun Conch. I’m going to be a dangerous man. Everyone will fear me.”
He grinned at her, desperation firing his eyes. “If you think they feared The
Panther, wait until they see what I do to them! All of them! I’ll make them
wish they’d never…”

 
          
The
Panther stepped quietly into the long house and draped the curtain back. His
gray hair shining in the firelight, he stood and looked at them. “What are you
doing here, boy? She needs her rest. Are you bothering her?”

 
          
Before
High Fox could answer, Sun Conch said, “Yes. Yes … Elder. He is.”

 
          
She
let her head fall to the side, and closed her eyes,

 
          
“Maybe
I ought to call out that you’re here, High Fox.” Panther’s voice held an
ominous note. “The Weroansqua’s been wondering what happened to you.”

 
          
She
heard High Fox rise, and his swift steps as he ran for the door.

 
          
Then
Panther knelt and tucked the hides around her, his old hands gentle. “I didn’t
think he’d dare to come back.”

 
          
“What
will happen to him?”

 
          
Panther
sighed. “Girl, he’s going to be a very miserable young man. No clan will offer
him shelter. He’ll have to go far away, leave everything and everyone he knows,
to outrun his reputation.”

 
          
“It
wasn’t his fault.”

 
          
The
Panther snorted. “Wasn’t it? He coupled with a girl. He asked her to run off
with him when she was promised to another. He isn’t even disgusted with
himself, is he? He should be sick with loathing for what he did, but he’s not.
If he lives, he’ll convince himself he was right all along. After a couple of
years, he’ll be bragging to himself about having had Red Knot for those few
months.” Had she ever been so tired? “Yes,” she whispered. “I know.”

 
          
“Sleep,
Sun Conch. There’s nothing here that requires your attention. Besides, you need
to get well so that you can go home.”