The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [54]
“I was not made. I was born to human parents.”
“The Antler Snake was made from a man, to kill the sun, to strike the creator dead. Did you know that?”
“It's one of the stories, yes.”
“It is your story, Red Shoes. Let it tell itself, brother.”
“I think I shall kill you.”
“Your friends are watching,” he said, pointing.
Red Shoes turned to look. When he looked back, the scalped man was gone.
But his words remained. Slay the Sun. Was that what he was to do? He had been made to slay something. But an arrow could slay its maker. It could.
“Thank you, Hashtali,” he said again. “I will send you tobacco, when I have some that is dry.”
Minko Chito, the Bone Men, and the rest were still watching the sealed cave entrance when he found them. Red Shoes drew on hoshonti, the cloud, and walked up behind them without sound.
“How's he ever going to get out of there?” he asked, dispelling hoshonti.
They turned almost as a man, all astonished except for the two Bone Men. They just nodded. “You are the one,” the elder of the two said. Then, to Minko Chito. “He is the one.”
The old chief nodded, and though Bloody Child and Paint Red scowled, they said nothing.
Indeed, Red Shoes thought, I am the one. But perhaps not the one you think I am.
They returned to the village and began making plans for war.
Franklin found Euler the next morning, playing cards with several courtiers and seeming to enjoy himself.
“A word with you, Mr. Euler?”
“But of course, Mr. Franklin, if the ladies will forgive me.”
One of the ladies looked cross. “We will forgive you, Monsieur, but perhaps not your wizard friend.” Then her frown became a smile. “Unless his demonstration this evening is exceptionally amusing.”
“You will find it so, I hope,” Franklin replied. “And I will have Mr. Euler only for a hand or two. He has a condition, you see, that requires fresh air now and then, and one of its complications is a forgetfulness of that fact—so I must see to it.”
“Not contagious, I hope?”
“The only contagious thing in this room is admiration for you, milady,” Franklin replied.
“You make a good courtier,” Euler remarked when they were out upon the terrace in front of the palace. “But then you were one once, weren't you?”
“I had the training,” Franklin admitted, “and remember some of the lessons.”
“Well, you've taken me out of my little box to ask me some question again, haven't you? Something so important you must ignore the fact that you do not trust me.”
“You're a perceptive judge of character,” Franklin said. “That is exactly what I've come for.”
“Let's hear it, then.”
“Tell me, did you know Sterne was a warlock?”
“I did when I saw him last night. I never knew the name before.”
“He knew yours.”
“Well, he is more in the know than I, surely. Is that your question?”
“No. It is this: How can I make him reveal himself?”
“You have no device for that?”
“I have a device that detects warlocks, but it proves nothing to the uninitiated—a needle pointing like a compass makes no good demonstration. I need for his malakus to appear, for all to see him revealed for what he is.”
“Ah. Try to kill him, then.”
“At dinner? In front of everyone?”
“That's what you want, yes?”
“Not exactly. What if I draw a pistol and nothing happens? Then I merely jeopardize what goodwill I have earned here.”
“If he is in serious danger of his life, his malakus will appear, with or without his consent. It is the only thing I can suggest.”
“But if, for instance, the guards notice my motion before he does—no. I cannot risk it.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help.”
Franklin nodded thoughtfully. “It will have to do, I suppose. There must be some way to make use of this. Thank you, Mr. Euler—you may return to your card game.”
“Back into my box, eh?”
“For now.”
When Euler was gone from sight, doubts returned. What if this were some sabotage, finally, on Euler's part? An agreement with Sterne to make Franklin look not only idiotic but idiotic and murderous?
But there was one way. A dangerous way, but not