It Wakes in Me by Kathleen O’Neal Gear Read Free Book Online

trust?”
    “You’re speaking nonsense. Stop it. Do you wish people to think you’re an imbecile?”
    He rose to his feet. “I am an imbecile. All priests are. There’s no sense trying to hide it.”
    She frowned at him. How curious that he would agree with her. Most priests, if he was a priest, considered themselves quite superior to the average person. “You truly are a priest?”
    “Until someone manages to assassinate me, yes.”
    “Only very Powerful priests are worth assassinating. Are you worth that much?”
    He bowed his head and smiled. “Apparently, since there were seven attempts on my life this past winter.”
    “What’s your name?”

    As silent as a hawk’s shadow, he leaned forward to stare straight into her eyes. “My name is Strongheart.”
    Fear tickled the back of her throat. “You—you are Blue Bow’s high priest.”
    “I was, yes.”
    “Was?”
    “Yes. He’s dead.” He cocked his head and studied her for what seemed a long time. “They say you killed him. In fact, Matron Wink assures me that you’ve killed at least seven people, including one of your dearest friends, War Chief Skinner from Oak Leaf Village. She sent a runner to ask me if I would be willing to Heal you. She said many had tried and failed. When you arrived, I thought you’d come because I’d said yes.”
    “But … that’s not why I came?”
    He reached down to brush away the sand that coated her cheek. His hand was large and gentle, the fingertips calloused. “I didn’t find out until after I’d ordered you brought to my chamber that Grown Bear had taken you captive because you murdered our chief, Blue Bow. Whether or not I will be able to keep my promise to your matron is now uncertain.”
    Fear turned her breathing shallow. “Then I’m here for punishment.”
    “Perhaps.”
    If the situation were reversed and Feather Dancer had just delivered Wink’s murderer to her, Sora would not care what excuses the murderer gave. Her people would demand that the murderer be killed, and no matter what her personal feelings, she would obey the will of her people.
    In a shaky voice, she asked, “Am I to be killed today or tomorrow?”
    “The new chief, Blue Bow’s son, Horned Owl, will call a village council meeting tomorrow to decide.”
    “When?”

    “Dawn.”
    She had maybe twelve hands of time to decide what she would say to defend herself, and the Spirit Plant Flint had been giving her still lived in her veins. Clear thought was impossible.
    She massaged her forehead. “Tell me about Horned Owl. How old is he?”
    “He has seen fourteen winters.”
    “Barely a man, then. What’s he like?”
    Strongheart clamped his jaw, as though trying to decide what to tell her. “He’s brash. I pray that ascending to the chieftainship will force him to grow up.”
    “When you say ‘brash,’ do you mean he’s reckless? Cruel? Perhaps, stupid?”
    “Of those choices, I think ‘cruel’ best describes him.”
    The sensation of danger filtered through her numb bones, and she again asked, “Where is my war chief? I would like to speak with him.”
    “He’s being held under heavy guard in the Captives’ House, where I’m sure you will be taken shortly.”
    “I can’t stay here?”
    “I don’t think Chief Horned Owl will allow it.”
    “And my former husband? Where is he?”
    Strongheart’s expression tensed. He propped his hands on his hips, and as his cape resettled about him, the fragrance of cypress bark rose. He must store his clothing in a cypress box. “At this very moment, Horned Owl is feasting Flint and showering him with wealth. By betraying you, he has assured himself a place of honor among our people. He is a hero. Already our most beautiful maidens are parading before him, hoping to be selected as his new wives.”
    A log exploded in the fire, and the sudden burst of light fluttered the air like a hundred luminous scarves.
    “Flint betrayed me?”

    “Yes, in exchange for a great deal of