Eighty-eight

The terrible headache had slowly receded as Night Shadow Star’s bound body was borne with haste along the shadowed forest trail. Overhead the interwoven branches had precluded any glimpse of the sky, but she knew her litter was being carried northwest, along Joara Creek, and then up the old Trade and war trail that led to the mountain pass.

As her suffering head healed and blurred vision cleared, the periodic bouts of vertigo and nausea diminished. She was able to finally assess her situation. They kept her carefully bound, two warriors in constant attendance. She was fed three times a day, and to her disgust, “assisted” when she needed to relieve herself.

Fire Light had made it clear that he would take no chances. The man had told her straight: “One way or another, you and your brother are going to see me home to what is rightfully mine.”

Trussed up like a turtle bound for the roasting pit, she nevertheless seemed to be in better condition than Walking Smoke. That underhanded blow she’d delivered to his crotch had him bent double and moaning. Made her wonder at the Power that dip in Piasa’s spring had given to her war club.

They were camped that night at the top of the pass. She’d been taken from her litter, fed, and given tea to drink. Now she was bound to a beech sapling.

Chief Fire Light walked over, his face partly illuminated by the flickering flames of the central fire. He crouched, studied her thoughtfully. “Are you well, Lady?”

“Better than my brother.” She inclined her head in Walking Smoke’s direction. “Given the damage I did to his manhood, I was really wishing I could have hit him in the head.”

“He says that the moment he’s healed enough, he’s going to make you his. Mix your Power and his in some grand ritual mating.”

“Word among your warriors is that he can barely make water, let alone harden his rod.”

“Me, I don’t care. I want to go home.”

“Untie these ropes. Let me have the use of your war club for a couple of heartbeats, and I’ll see you get your palace.”

“I could almost believe you, Lady. But he’s a Powerful witch. The things I’ve seen him do?” The man shivered.

She took a deep breath. “He’s obsessed with incest. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Everything about the both of you bothers me.”

“Listen, Chief: After the death of my first husband, I sent my souls to the Underworld. Piasa found me, devoured me, and made me his. I came within a whisker, literally, of dragging Walking Smoke down to my master. Then the lightning saved him. Old-Woman-Who-Never-Dies tasked me with the destruction of my second husband, the Itza. And in the end, he hanged himself. When Morning Star’s souls were carried to the Underworld by Humming Moth, I was the one who descended into the depths of the Sacred Cave to bring him back. Now I have pursued Walking Smoke here, to Cofitachequi. But for your interference, I would have killed him. As it is, I just neutered him. So, do you really want to stand against me?”

“But you didn’t kill him.”

She hardened her glare, watched him glance away. “You couldn’t have known what you were doing. Now you do. You have a choice. You can let me loose to finish my task, or I will have to destroy you. Your choice.”

“Destroy me?” An amused smile played on Fire Light’s lips. “Brave words from a young woman tied to a tree.”

“Walking Smoke was going to rape me the moment he had me as his own. How’s that working out for him? He can’t even touch himself without howling, let alone consummate this magical mixing of Power he’s obsessed with.” A pause. “Your choice, Chief. Home in triumph, or left broken in humiliation and defeat?”

She watched Fire Light wrestle with the offer, as if he really wanted to believe her. Then he shook his head. “Sorry. If I let you free, and you tried to kill him … No. He’s too Powerful. As soon as he finished with you, he’d turn on me. I can’t take that chance.”

He stood then, turning away.

“Then you leave me no choice,” she told him. “I’m sorry, cousin. After tonight, I can’t save you.”

“As if you ever could have in the first place.” He snorted derisively as he stalked off for the warriors’ fire.

How is this going to end? she wondered, eyes searching the star-strewn night sky.

Somewhere, behind her, Fire Cat was already searching for her. Would he know where to follow? Could he figure out this latest twist?

“In the end,” Piasa whispered, “it will just be you and Walking Smoke. Locked in a deadly Dance. Then Power will decide. Yours. And his. Whichever is stronger.”

“Just promise me, Lord. Whatever the cost I must pay, Fire Cat not only survives, but lives happily to a ripe old age. Grant me that, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of blue out under the night-shadowed trees.

Followed by Piasa’s mocking laughter.