Nineteen

Blue Heron wondered when she’d been as tired, cold, or numb. As her porters laid her litter on the ground before her palace veranda, she watched one of the shivering young men lift her blanket away. The covering of snow dropped from the wet cloth in chunks.

Still, it took her three tries to get her legs to hold her as helping hands pulled her up.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Not as spry as I used to be. Pus and rot, I’m worn.”

“We could carry you in,” one of the young men, a Hawk Clan youth, offered.

“I’d crawl first. Allow me some dignity.”

The youth smiled, nodded, and blew into his hands to warm them.

Hardly willing to trust her wobbly legs, she nevertheless hobbled her way into the warm great room, calling, “All of you, come in and warm up. Smooth Pebble will give you something hot to put at least a little fire back in your bellies.”

“Thank you, Lady,” they all chimed, trooping in behind her.

“I’ll get them fed, Lady,” Soft Moon offered, hurrying toward the fire.

Smooth Pebble stepped forward, taking Blue Heron’s hand, noting, “You’re half frozen. Let me help you into your room, then I’ll bring you a hot stew. Your porters aren’t the only ones who need a little fire in the belly.”

“Thank you.”

Blue Heron allowed Smooth Pebble to help her back through the door and to her bed. The woman then left on her errands.

Blue Heron sighed, blinked. She perched on the bed frame and levered her wet and filthy moccasins off. She hadn’t managed to remove her soaked cape before Smooth Pebble was back, a lamp in one hand, a steaming cup of stew in the other.

“Need help with anything?” Smooth Pebble asked.

“No, that’s all. I’m going to eat and collapse.”

“How did things work out?”

“Expedition’s leaving tomorrow by midday. Though there was some sort of ruckus at the camp that may or may not affect that. I got them provisioned. Didn’t want to wait around to get tied up in whatever new disaster was unfolding.”

“Sleep well.”

“You, too. Just don’t wake me until it’s midsummer, all right?”

Smooth Pebble left with a knowing smile on her lips.

Blue Heron sighed, slipped out of her cold and soaked dress, wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders, and was halfway through the gut-warming rabbit and duck stew before she caught the glimpse of something moving in the dark corner of her room.

Heart skipping, she lifted her lamp. “Who’s there?”

“Just me, Keeper.”

“Blood and spit, thief! Have you ever considered just walking in the door and announcing yourself? Smooth Pebble let you in here?”

“I didn’t think she’d want the bother of telling me no.”

“Well, go away. I don’t care what kind of trouble you’re in. Get out. Vanish. Solve it yourself. I’m tired of fixing things. It messes with my time to sleep. And that’s just what I’m going to do as soon as I have you pitched out into the snow and I finish this stew.”

“Figured you’d want to know first thing: Night Shadow Star and the Red Wing left this afternoon. Apparently took a canoe and headed off downriver on their own. Piasa was whispering in her ear. Nothing else would explain why she left me in charge of her palace. Had me deliver a message to the Morning Star. Now, I’ve always considered myself a brave sort, but that put the trembles and shakes in my souls, let me tell you.”

“She what? She’s supposed to be escorted by that disorganized mess of an expedition.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to hang around that long and let Spotted Wrist’s warriors grab her for an impromptu marriage. She wasn’t gone a finger’s worth of time before Blood Talon and his warriors searched her palace. I’m not sure but that they didn’t make off with the occasional bit of Trade, either.”

“Start at the beginning, thief.”

He did. She listened straight through, sipping stew, trying to keep her muzzy brain working.

“So, you, of all people, are in charge of her palace? You? She and the Red Wing are gone to Cofitachequi, and you flung the whole mess in Spotted Wrist’s face? He’ll kill you for that, you know … and now you want my advice?”

“That’s about it.”

She placed the empty cup on one of her storage boxes, pulled her covers back, and slipped into her bed. As she closed her eyes, she said, “I’d say you would be best served if you hurried down to the canoe landing, stole a canoe, and headed downriver after them.”

He said nothing, so she added, “Used Makes Three’s staff? For some that would be a killing offense. Be glad the Morning Star backed you up on that.”

This was all trouble. Night Shadow Star left on her own? What kind of insanity was that? She was wondering why the living god would have bothered, but never finished the thought, her exhausted body drifting into sleep.