The sound stopped.
Catkin clutched war club, remembering what Stone Ghost had said about the murderer. She quietly circled around to the right.
Moccasins scritched on gravel as the man eased around the boulders.
“Browser!”
He did not smile or greet her. He tucked his war club back into his belt and straightened his dark brown war shirt. His round face, thick black brows, and flat nose bore a sheen of tan dust. Cut in mourning, his hair hung around his ears in jagged layers.
“War Chief, what are you doing here? You are a hand of time from Hillside village.”
“Things are much worse than when you left, Catkin. I feared that someone might lay a trap for you and old Stone Ghost. I have been coming up here every night. Just in case.”
“Worse? What’s happened?”
Browser looked around. “Where is Stone Ghost? Did he refuse to come?”
“He’s coming, Browser. In a few days. He wanted to come alone. I cannot say why.” She studied the deep lines that incised his forehead, and the weariness in the eyes. “Tell me what has happened?”
“Matron Flame Carrier called me to her chamber and asked where you were. I told her, of course. The next thing I knew, everyone in the village was racing about, carrying the news that Stone Ghost was coming to Hillside.”
“She told people? Why would she do that?”
“Partly to shame me for dispatching you without her approval. And, I think, because she wished to warn people.”
“But by alerting people, she has given the murderer time to escape.”
“Or,” he said pointedly, “to kill Stone Ghost.”
“Blessed gods.” Catkin heaved a tired breath, and walked by Browser to the sandstone cistern at the base of the boulders. Clear water sparkled in the catchment. She dropped to her knees and drank until relief flooded through her like a cool tide, then she
wiped her mouth, and looked at Browser. “He said something like that to me.”
“What?” Browser came over and knelt in front of her, his brown eyes concerned. “What did he say?”
“Just before I left, I told him I would keep watch on the trails so that I could meet him and escort him into the village, and he said,
‘I don’t think the murderer will let you.’
I wasn’t actually sure he was speaking to me, but now I wonder. Perhaps he knew this would happen.”
Browser’s cold expression thawed. “Perhaps.”
Catkin dropped her head into her hands for a moment and enjoyed the sensation of being off her feet. Her legs tingled. When she looked up again, she found Browser staring at her.
“Forgive me, Catkin, for meeting you this way. I have not been sleeping well”—he shook his head—“but that is no excuse. I am grateful for your help. I know it was not easy for you to go to Stone Ghost. Not after the stories people tell about him. You were very brave to do this thing. I will not forget.”
He looked away. Spider Woman’s Butte thrust up like a square tower in the middle of the canyon. He seemed to be studying it. “That crazy old Trader, Mossmouth, came through yesterday, Catkin. He said that a woman is missing from Starburst Village. She disappeared four days ago.”
Starburst sat at the western end of the canyon. Small, and very poor, barely twenty people lived there. Fire Dogs had raided them last autumn, taking all of the corn, bean, and squash the villagers had stored for the winter. Every day they scrounged for food.
“Did the raiders kill anyone?”
Browser shook his head. “No.”
“What did they steal?”
“Nothing.”
Their gazes held, hers curious, his desperate.
“I don’t understand.”
He clenched his jaw, and his teeth moved beneath the brown skin. “The Trader came through to deliver a message, Catkin. One of minor importance, but it caused me to think and wonder—”
“A message for whom?”
He got to his feet, and paced back and forth, his hands up as though in surrender. “I do not even wish to think about it. I—”
“But you are thinking about it, so tell me.”
Browser slowly lowered his hands. “Cloudblower.”
“Yes? And?”
“Mossmouth stopped to tell Cloudblower that the little girl she had Healed in Starburst Village was much better.”
Catkin’s eyes narrowed when she caught his meaning. “Browser, Cloudblower and Hophorn go on a Healing trip to the smaller villages every half moon. There is nothing strange about that.”
“I know. It just seems odd that the woman disappeared the same day they were there.”
“Coincidence. Cloudblower and Hophorn are not killers.” Catkin watched him struggling with himself, desperate to find the person who had murdered his wife. “Leave it, Browser. You are looking in the wrong place.”
“Probably,” he granted, and kicked at a loose stone. “The Trader also said that he’d heard Stone Ghost was visiting Whitetail Village.”
“Whitetail?” She scowled. “What was he doing there?”
“Whitetail is on the way here. That is another reason I came tonight. I was certain he would be with you.”
Catkin tugged at a clump of mud on her sleeve. Perhaps the old man had friends in Whitetail Village. He had told her he would be along “soon enough,” not as soon as possible. He had the right to stop anywhere he wished.
Catkin said, “How is Hophorn?”
“She has moved back into her own chamber, but she has not regained the power to speak.”
Catkin jerked as though she’d been struck in the belly. “She has lost her power to speak?”
Browser closed his eyes a moment. Catkin knew that they had been lovers in their youth. He must be hurting for her.
“Forgive me. I forgot you did not know. Cloudblower says people often lose the ability to speak when they are struck on the left side of the head. She also says Hophorn may relearn to speak, or that her ability might return in a flash.”
“Blessed Spirits,” Catkin murmured. Hophorn loved nothing
better than talking, and laughing with people. This must be like a knife in her heart. Catkin suddenly felt too tired to move. “How is Hophorn taking it?”
“Better than I would be. She called me to her chamber three times yesterday to try and tell me something. She grunted, and gestured, and fought to make words, but she couldn’t, Catkin. I asked her a hundred questions about who had attacked her, but all she could do was moan and wave her arms. It tears my souls to see her like this.”
Hophorn and Cloudblower were the two most beloved people in Hillside. Villagers must be frightened and angry.
“Why her, Browser? I do not understand any of this.”
“I think she just happened to be there when the killer came, and he—”
Catkin’s head snapped up. “You think he was surprised to see her there?”
“Yes. He must have been. I mean—”
“Then the murderer was an outsider.”
Browser frowned. “Why?”
“Because, Browser. Everyone in Hillside Village knew Hophorn would be keeping the burial fire. The Sunwatcher always does. If the killer did not—”
He stared hard into her eyes. “Perhaps he was a Fire Dog after all.”
“Or one the northern Tower Builders. They worship animal gods, and know nothing of our ways.”
In elation, Browser gripped her hands. Then, just as quickly, his smile vanished. “No, Catkin. An outsider would have killed Hophorn, not just wounded her.”
“But, didn’t he try to?”
Browser released her hands, and got to his feet. “I don’t think so. Cloudblower said that the injury was not that bad. She opened the skull anyway, to release some of the evil Spirits, but she told me yesterday that she thinks Hophorn would have lived without her efforts.” Browser gave Catkin a sidelong look. “I think the murderer wanted Hophorn to suffer.”
A slow fire built in Catkin’s veins, part hatred, part fear. She rose on shaking legs and looked at her soaked moccasins and
mud-spattered blue war shirt. She had been dreaming of her first meal at home, eager for the warmth of a fire and a hot bowl of cornmeal mush flavored with pine nuts and dried beeweed leaves.
She said, “How are you, Browser? Are you well?”
Browser’s thick black brows pulled together over his flat nose. He let out a breath. “No. Gods, no.” He shook his head. “I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I can’t even concentrate on important things people tell me. By the time they’ve finished, I’ve forgotten why they came to speak with me at all. I—I feel like a kicked dog, Catkin. I just want to run away.”
Catkin put a hand on his broad shoulder. “Come. Let’s go home and talk.”
C
ATKIN LAY ON HER SIDE, WRAPPED IN A THICK BUFFALO hide. The crimson gleam of the warming bowl fluttered over the ring of blue diamonds she had painted on the white walls near the ceiling. She watched it absently.
She and Browser had returned home to an eerily quiet village. No fires had burned in the plaza. No dogs had barked to greet them. The sounds of playing children had vanished. Flame Carrier had sent for Catkin immediately, had questioned her about Stone Ghost, and had told Catkin that most of the villagers had retreated to their chambers, afraid to come out until the murderer had been caught.
Catkin had walked to Hophorn’s chamber to check on her health and found Jackrabbit standing guard. The Sunwatcher had been sound asleep inside, her face twitching. Next, she’d tried to visit Cloudblower, but the Healer’s chamber had been empty.
Catkin, sighed.
Usually at this time of night, laughter and the crying of infants rang out from nearby chambers. Tonight, only the sound of coughing competed with the wind. A powerful gust shook the ladder that led through the round entry hole in her roof.
Catkin snuggled into the furry warmth of her hide and closed her eyes. Red wings of light danced across the insides of her lids. She wondered what Wind Born would say to her tonight. What advice he would give her. About the insanity in the village, the murders. About Browser.
A sad smile touched her lips. The first instant her heart began to yearn for Browser, Catkin had seen Wind Born peek from her soul, frowning gently in disapproval. Wind Born would think Browser brash and headstrong—a buffalo bull who rampaged about, growled,
and waved his horns for no reason. Browser could be, of course, though he usually tried to think before he acted.
Perhaps that’s why he had snared her heart. Browser had not thought before he’d rescued her from the Fire Dog camp. No thoughtful war chief would have abandoned his fleeing war party and risked his own life to save one person. In similar situations, Catkin had seen Browser leave men behind.
She still did not know why he had come for her.
She took a deep breath of the warm smoky air, and sleep taunted at the edges of her souls, tugging at her like the arms of a lover.
She yawned and rolled to her back. Starlight streamed into her chamber. The room sparkled. She watched the elusive wisps of smoke that fluttered through the chamber, licking at the ceiling poles. Each wisp that escaped through the roof hole flashed in the starlight before it vanished.
Just as sleep began to overcome her, she heard a faint voice call,
“Catkin? Are you awake?”
She braced herself on her elbows and blinked the sleep away, then she dragged herself to a sitting position. “Come, War Chief.”
Browser climbed down the ladder into her chamber. His flat nose and jaggedly shorn black hair gleamed with a reddish hue. He wore a plain buckskin cape over a long red war shirt and black leggings. He stood awkwardly.
Catkin rubbed her tired eyes. “Are you well, War Chief?”
“I came to apologize.” His arms flapped against his sides in frustration. “When I met you on the trail, I acted poorly. I knew you would be exhausted and hungry. I should have at least offered you the jerky I carried in my belt pouch. I just—I was not thinking, Catkin. I do not seem to think at all these days. Forgive me.”
“Do not fret about it. I was fine. I am still fine.”
Browser ran a hand through his black hair, and his gaze searched her chamber, as if eager to look at anything but Catkin.
“War Chief,” she said. “Please. Sit down.” She gestured to the mat on the opposite side of the warming bowl.
“Yes, all right. If you’re sure I’m not disturbing you.”
“Sit.”
Browser sank to the floor, and tossed another twig onto her warming bowl. Flames danced around the fresh tinder. “I don’t know
what’s the matter with me, Catkin. I feel like I am falling to pieces inside. I no longer know who or—or even what I am. I—”
“Browser,” Catkin said and leaned back against the wall with her buffalo hide around her shoulders. Long black hair streamed down the front. “You just lost your wife and your son. Did you expect to feel whole? Of course you are wobbling.”
His buckskin cape draped his tall body in firelit folds, accenting the breadth of his muscular shoulders. When he lifted his gaze, Catkin could see anguish in every line of his handsome face.
“What is it, War Chief?”
He shook his head, and gestured to the teapot that hung on the tripod to the right of the warming bowl. Cups, bowls, and horn spoons nested beneath it. “May I?”
“Of course. It’s yucca petal tea. It should still be warm.” Browser dipped a gourd cup full and sipped. Steam swirled around his face. “Did you eat?”
“Yes. Are you hungry?”
“No, I ate with He-Who-Flies and Jackrabbit. There wasn’t much conversation. All of our warriors are exhausted, Catkin. I’ve had Whiproot and He-Who-Flies standing guard with me at night, then Skink, Jackrabbit, and Water Snake stand guard during the day. Worse, people are frightened, so they often go to visit warriors during their sleep time, to ask them questions, to share theories with them. No one is sleeping well.”
“You least of all.”
He stared unblinking at her and pain welled in his dark eyes. His voice came out low. “Catkin, have you ever had the sense that you really knew what was happening, yet you didn’t know at all? As though your souls had suddenly stopped speaking with each other?”
Wind gusted through the roof entry, and the warming bowl spat and crackled. Catkin pulled the worn softness of her buffalo hide more tightly around her.
“I think I know what you mean. Why? What do you sense is happening?”
His thick brows drew together, and he turned his gourd cup in his hands, as though not certain he wished to answer. Finally, he extended his right hand, the palm open. Firelight flickered through
the hair on his arm. “Sometimes I feel the answer right there, in my grasp, but I can’t close my fingers around it. The only thing I know for certain is that everything is tied to my wife. She is the center of this whirlwind, Catkin.” He tightened his hand to a fist, and shook it. “I
know
it.”
As though suddenly needing room, he set his cup on the floor, got to his feet, and paced across her small chamber. When he passed through the stream of starlight, his face glowed a silvery blue.
Catkin smoothed her fingers over the warm buffalo fur, thinking about things Stone Ghost had asked her. “Browser?”
He stopped and looked at her. “Yes?”
“Did you ever …” She hesitated. It was none of her concern, and he might tell her that flatly, but she had to ask. “Did you ever beat your wife?”
His mouth opened in disbelief. “Why would you think that, Catkin?”
“I don’t, but, Stone Ghost asked me if you had ever beaten her, or berated her in public, and I—”
“What purpose did the question serve? Why did he ask?”
She gestured lamely. “He told me something I didn’t understand. He said that for a murderer ‘life is bondage, and murder is freedom,’ and that if we wished to find the murderer we must discover what binds him. Then he … he asked me why I didn’t like your wife.”
“What did you say?” he asked mildly.
“I said that she was not a kind person, Browser.”
“Go on.”
“Stone Ghost asked who she was unkind to, and I said you.” She stared into the dark wells of his eyes. “That’s when he asked me if she’d had a reason to be unkind to you, if you beat her or berated her in public.”
Browser knelt in front of the warming bowl again and picked up his gourd cup. As he frowned down into the pale green liquid, he said, “I never hit her, Catkin. I give you my oath. There were times when we argued outside, in the plaza, or down near the drainage, and there were people nearby. I may have embarrassed her in front of others, but not because I wished to hurt her. I just lost my wits for a moment.”
“All of us can say the same, Browser.”
He sloshed the tea in his cup, and gazed at her from beneath his lashes. “I never understood her, Catkin. When she was angry, she changed, became someone I did not know. Her eyes would suddenly burn, and her voice grew husky, and menacing. She would shout into my face, and wave her fists. I know it probably sounds cowardly, I am so much bigger than she was, but I always felt threatened.” He tipped his chin up, and grimaced at the smoke crawling across the ceiling. “Many times, I admit, I wished to strike her. But I never did, Catkin.” His eyes tightened. “I swear.”
Wind Baby whipped around Hillside Village, battering the chamber ladders. A sustained clatter rose. People, awakened from sleep, started coughing. Infants wailed.
Catkin lowered her hands to her lap, and frowned at them. His every movement, every word, revealed the agony that ravaged his heart.
“Browser, has it occurred to you that you may think your wife is the center of this whirlwind, because her death is the center of your personal whirlwind?”
“It’s not her death,” he said, and clenched his fists. “If it was only grief, I could manage it. But it’s much more, Catkin. Guilt is eating my souls alive.” He opened his hands and spread them. “I tell you truly, the gods will punish me for what I have done. I—”
“What have you done?” She had heard this same pleading tone in his voice a hundred times. He was a grand one for accusing himself of things he had not done, things he’d had no control over. “Tell me.”
Browser’s thick black brows drew together. He peered at the red coals in the warming bowl for a time. “Why didn’t I go after her, Catkin? Why? When my wife came to me in the plaza the night we were organizing the war party, I knew she was frantic. I could see it on her face. If I had gone after her, she wouldn’t be dead. She went out alone and got into some kind of trouble she could not get out of. If I’d been there, to protect her—”
“As I understand it, then, you are not sorry she’s dead, just that you shirked your duties as her husband.”
Browser stared at Catkin nakedly, his hurt reflected in his shining eyes. “I did not say that.”
Catkin clamped her jaws.
It is not you the gods will punish, but your worthless wife.
They would punish her for her incessant whining and the way she bullied Browser into doing things he did not wish to. For her storms of temper, and the way her voice could turn cutting and deep and send shivers up people’s backs. For shaming Browser in front of his friends. But she could not say any of those words. Not when Browser looked so tormented.
Catkin extended her long legs across the white plastered floor. “Forgive me. What did you mean?”
He shifted his weight.
“I keep seeing her smashed face, and feeling the cold stiffness of her hand. The images stick to my eyes like boiled pine pitch.” He unconsciously wiped his hands on his cape. “I am sorry she’s dead, but I—I cannot find it in me to forgive her. She ran away when our son was dying, Catkin. How can I forgive that?”
“I’m not sure I could forgive that either, Browser. Tell me, would you have her back? If she were alive, and walked into your chamber tonight, what would you do?”
He shook his head. “I do not know, Catkin. I—”
“I think you do know.”
His lips pressed into a tight line. “We would fight. That is as far ahead as I can see.”
“Tell me what you would have done differently the night she disappeared? Would you have left your dying son alone, and run off to chase your wife?”
“No.”
“Perhaps you could have asked someone else to hold your son, to comfort him during the last few hours of his life, while you chased after her?”
He shook his head vehemently. “Never.”
“You could have sent one of your warriors after your wife. Of course, everyone would have known you were using him to spy on her. Everyone would have snickered behind your back, but—”
“I wouldn’t have
cared
about that! My wife—”
“On the other hand, she didn’t have to run away, did she? She was a free woman. She could have stayed with your son. With you.
She chose to go out that night, and it turned out to be a bad choice. But you could not have known. Could you?”
Browser lifted a hand and massaged his forehead. “That sounds very mixed up.”
Catkin folded her arms. “You have asked yourself these same questions. I know you have. Why does it disturb you to hear the truth?”
Browser sank to her floor cross-legged, and dropped his head in his hands. “I tell you, she’s the center of all this, Catkin. I do not know how, or why, but
she
is the heart of this insanity.”
Catkin slid forward, picked up a gourd cup, and dipped it full of yucca petal tea. She took a long drink and said, “I believe you. When you figure out how to unravel the tangle, tell me. I will help you in any way I can. But right now, my friend, I’m fatigued. I need to rest.”