Fifty-two

Tsilu

This chamber is small, dark, and cold.

Where I huddle in the corner with my cape drawn tightly about me, my breath frosts the air. My brother paces back and forth in front of me. Grandfather and Crane sit in the middle of the chamber with their faces close, speaking too low for me to hear. We’re being held on the third floor, guarded by two White Moccasins. Just beyond the door curtain, they talk in quiet voices. Sometimes I glimpse them standing out there as the evening wind constantly flutters the curtain and moonlight sheathes their tall shapes as it floods the chamber with silver light.

I’ve never been this frightened. There’s no way out and no one here to help us. Before we entered the town, we could have made a run for it, maybe escaped into the desert. Now we must endure until our fates are determined by a fiendish madman, the cannibal witch who rules the Straight Path nation with a magical granite fist.

My brother stops pacing and folds his arms tightly across his chest, as though he’s just been struck with an unpleasant thought. His hard blue eyes glint in the shifting moonlight.

No one pays me the slightest attention. I could be invisible. I feel invisible, but that’s all right. From their facial expressions, I know they are planning and plotting. My puny fears are not important.

I miss Kwinsi more now than ever before. If he were here, he would find a way to ease my fears, to make me smile. He had such a rare gift. I pray that tonight he is sitting around the campfires of the dead telling amusing stories to our ancestors. Their laughter would make him happy.

Footsteps … outside.

Grandfather and Crane both look toward the door. The warriors call some greeting that I can’t make out.

A man says, “It begins now. Walk away.”

“Of course, Sunwatcher.”

The warriors trot away from our door.

Sunwatcher Cub draws the curtain aside. He has eyes for no one but Crane. “We must talk.”

Crane instantly rises to his feet and ducks beneath the curtain into the moonlight.

My brother wanders over to kneel beside Grandfather, but neither says a word.

They are straining to listen, as I am, to the quiet voices just beyond the dancing curtain.

“… fetish?” Cub whispers.

“Yes, I have it. Why … send BoneDust to give … me?”

“… safe … knew you’d…”

“… didn’t at first. I didn’t even know what it—”

“I trusted you would find out.”

When the wind gusts, the curtain flaps, and I see Crane standing with his fists propped on his hips. His black cloak blends so perfectly with the night his pale hands and face stand out as though plastered with ceremonial white clay. “I did.”

“Blue Dove?”

“Doesn’t know anything.”

Cub’s gaze strays to the warriors standing six or seven paces away, at the very edge of the roof, looking out across the surrounding moonlit hills as though completely unconcerned with this conversation.

Crane asks, “What next?”

The curtain flutters in the wind. I hear Cub say, “Whenever you are ready.”

Cub walks directly to the warriors, speaks with them, and they all walk away. A few of the warriors glance back at our chamber, but they do not return to guard us.

Moments later Crane steps through the doorway, and braces his feet to stare down at Grandfather and Maicoh.

“We need to discuss…” He suddenly shudders and doubles over as if he’s taken a blow to the belly.

I scramble to my feet to run to him, but Maicoh grabs my wrist and drags me away. Pulling back against his grip, I say, “He needs help! What’s wrong with him? I’ve never seen—”

“He never let you see. These seizures started when he was twelve. The instant Nightshade left Poor Singer’s village, he collapsed.”

Grandfather extends an arm to point to the rear of the chamber. “Move back, please. He needs space. This has been coming on for days.”

“Hurry, Tsilu,” my brother says as he ushers me to the rear of the chamber where complete darkness hovers.

Grandfather helps Crane to his feet, and says, “Don’t fight it, brother. Just let it happen.”

“Snowbird, I … I’m falling…”

“It’s all right. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

I flinch. This is not a name I know. Is it Grandfather’s name? Maybe Tocho is his adult name, and Snowbird was his childhood …

Grandfather holds Crane in his arms as Crane gasps for air. He’s suffocating.

“Help him!” I cry and struggle against my brother’s strong arms, trying to run to Grandfather and Crane.

“Be quiet! No one must hear!” Maicoh grabs me and holds me tightly. “We are no part of this now.”

“But what’s hap—”

“She’s calling him.”

I look up as understanding begins to dawn. My brother’s pale face has gone snowy white.

“Nightshade?” I whisper.

“Of course.”

Crane wraps his arms around Grandfather’s shoulders as though it’s the only way he can keep upright. His eyes have fastened on the far wall. It takes me a few heartbeats before I realize he’s gazing straight through the walls to the Blessed Sun’s chamber where the soul pot resides.

“Let me g-go,” Crane whispers.

Grandfather looks stricken. Tears fill his eyes as he releases Crane, who staggers over to place a hand against the wall. His fingers clutch for the tiniest holds to keep standing. Then I watch as he slowly slides down the wall to sit in a heap in the doorway. He is a dark silhouette against the brilliant background of moonlight that streams across Flowing Waters Town.

Crane topples to his side and begins jerking like a clubbed antelope and I scream, but Maicoh clamps a hand over my mouth and growls, “Quiet! You’re going to get us all killed!”

Grandfather kneels in front of Crane and places a hand upon his shuddering chest. “I’m still here. You’re all right.”

Crane’s body suddenly freezes in place, every muscle clenched. As though he’s entered a world where time has stopped, his mouth gapes and he stares out at nothing. Then, gradually, the rigor fades and his body goes limp.

Grandfather rises and walks to the doorway, where he steps outside the chamber to look around town, checking for warriors. “They’re all gone.”

“All?” my brother asks.

“Yes. Stinger’s orders.” Grandfather kneels and drags Crane’s arm across his shoulders. “Come on, brother. We have to go.”

Crane squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, then gives me a heartrending glance and turns his attention back to Grandfather. “I’m ready.”

Grandfather supports Crane as he staggers to his feet, and both men disappear into the moonlight.

I fight against my brother, trying to run after them. “Let me go!”

“Stop it! Listen to me, Tsilu. You and I are going to walk out of town. Right now.”

“But won’t the guards—”

“There are no guards. Stinger only assigned men to the walls tonight whom he trusted to obey his orders perfectly. But we must hurry. When the cries start, other warriors will wake with their weapons in their hands. By that time, we must be long gone.”

“But Grandfather and Crane—”

“I—I don’t know. But we have to go now.” Maicoh kneels in front of me to stare into my blurry eyes. I’m crying and I don’t know when it began. “Sister, this is a time for bravery. Are you ready?”

Swallowing hard, I answer, “Yes.”