People of the Longhouse Read Online Free Page B

wide-eyed at him, but the talkative girl says, “I just wanted to finish—”
    Big Man stalks toward her, and the expression on his face makes my blood go cold. The blow is swift and fierce. The girl shrieks and topples backward. When she rolls onto her side, blood pours from her mouth and spatters the bright autumn leaves.
    Big Man glares at the rest of us. “Do you understand now? See what happens if you make me angry? If you do not obey me instantly? Be quiet !”
    The only sounds are the wind through the trees and the soft sobbing of the baby.
    We seem to sit forever, staring at each other, staring at our captors. I am certain that every child is thinking the same thing I am: Someone is coming for us. That’s why we’re here. This is a meeting place. Who is coming?
    In less than one hand of time, nine strangers appear. They are like ghosts floating out of the forest. One is a boy about my age. Seven of them are lean, hungry men with mean eyes. The tallest man moves like a gangly stork and carries a heavy hide pack slung over his shoulder. The last person is a woman. She is old, maybe forty summers. Graying black hair hangs in greasy twists around her wrinkled face, and her eyes … her eyes are black bottomless pits. She seems to have no souls. Her toothless mouth is puckered and hard, and her nose resembles a sun-withered plum. When she speaks it is as though sandstone boulders are rubbing together. Each word is a scratchy blow: “Get them up. Let me look at them.”
    “Get up,” Big Man orders. “All of you. Stand up. The great Gannajero wants to see you.”
    We stand. All of us are trembling. I have never heard of Gannajero, but it terrifies me that Big Man does not care if I know her name. It is as though he believes she is so powerful nothing can harm her.
    Gannajero drags over the boy who came with her, shoves him into our group, then slowly walks down the line, scowling at each of us. When she looks at me, my legs go weak. Evil lives in her eyes. I can feel it coiling around my heart, squeezing the life from it. I can’t breathe. When she moves on to the next child, I stagger and lock my knees to keep standing.
    Wrass tries to be brave. He has his jaw clenched and stares back at her without blinking. This makes Gannajero smile at him. It is not a pleasant smile, but a promise of pain to come.
    Crows squawk, and Gannajero looks up to watch them soar through the sky. It is a small flock, ten or twelve jet-black birds. In a hoarse voice, she cries, “Caw! Caw, caw!” The crows seem startled. As though curious, many of them cock their heads and began to circle above her, angling their wings, watching, thocking inquisitively to each other.
    Gannajero’s mouth opens in a toothless smile, and she says, “Are any of you children related?”
    The oldest of the three Flint girls answers, “We are sisters.”
    Agres says, “So are we.”
    I hesitate, not sure whether I should give her this information. Before I can respond, Tutelo says, “We are brother and sister.”
    Gannajero turns to Big Man and points at Agres. “Why did you bring that one? What use do I have for an infant?”
    Big Man gestures awkwardly. “The girl refused to leave it. I thought it was easier to let her keep it for a while.”
    Agres’ face goes white. She clutches her sister more tightly to her chest. Her gaze darts from Big Man to Gannajero. The terrible truth is dawning, but she doesn’t believe it yet.
    None of us do.
    Gannajero walks back toward her warriors. As she passes Big Man, she says, “The baby is yours. I will take the others. Kotin, pay him.”
    The gangly warrior unslings his heavy pack, walks forward, and hands it to Big Man.
    Big Man places the pack on the ground. When he opens it, awed whispers filter through the gathering. The pack is filled with exquisite strings of pearls, pounded sheets of copper, etched shell gorgets, and many things I cannot see. Enough wealth to ransom a village. Big Man chuckles and begins