On bare feet Night Shadow Star eased her door hanging to the side and crept out into her palace great room. At his place beside her door, Fire Cat finally slept. She’d listened to him toss and turn until his breathing had finally deepened.
She’d relished the time she’d had to just sit beside him, the voices in her head stilled for the moment. To feel another human being’s presence, that warmth against her arm, the security of her head on his shoulder, had flooded her with a seldom-known contentment.
When she’d finally pulled away, he’d said, “You don’t have to do this. We could leave, Lady. There is a whole world out there. A couple of necklaces, a piece of copper, would be more than enough Trade for a light-hulled canoe. There are other places. Split Sky City. Cofitachequi. The Ockmulgee. The Caddo. Pick a direction. I can serve you in a foreign land as well as I can in Cahokia.”
His words had drawn tendrils of desire from her souls, stirred a longing she hadn’t known existed within her.
“No!” Piasa’s voice, absent since she’d hurried from Blue Heron’s, sent a sibilant shiver through her.
Now she walked through her palace, aware that this was the last night that it would be inviolately hers. She might still own it, but tomorrow a strange man, his servants, and warriors would invade her haven. His presence would insinuate itself, filtering into the very walls and benches. Here, where she and Makes Three had laughed and loved, the memories would be tainted, corrupted.
She tilted her head back, drawing in the scent of smoke, thatch, floor matting, and the lingering sweetness of the corn stew Winter Leaf had cooked. The odor of her people, their clothing and robes, would be contaminated by the strange sweat and oils of invaders.
“Did you delude yourself with the belief that the world stopped with Makes Three’s death?” Piasa’s whisper just behind her right ear made her glance his way. Only dark shadows met her gaze.
“Delude myself? No. It was a hope, master. Only a desperate, fading hope.”