The Spirit Keeper Read Online Free PDF Page A

the furious savage would do next. With his jaw clenched and nostrils flared, Hector reminded me of that awful moment in the loft when I feared my murderer was upon me, and I once again felt the thrill of pure terror.
    But just as at our first meeting, Syawa began talking in that quiet, calming, steady tone of his, and the tension dissipated. Hector’s brow was still deeply furrowed, but after giving my mother’s back a final shove with his foot, he turned on the jeering children and shouted. E’en with the language barrier, everyone knew exactly what Hector said, and the crowd immediately dispersed.
    After a long moment in which Mother moaned, I held my knees and trembled, and Syawa continued his soft, soothing placations, Hector finally raised his hand to ask a question through gritted teeth. Syawa smiled and nodded, holding out his arms as if to say, “You see? I am wholly unhurt.”
    Hector nodded, but before he turned to walk away, he gave me a glance that chilled me to the bone. He was angry, resentful, disgusted. But mostly he was accusative—clearly blaming me for endangering his friend. This, I suddenly realized, was probably why Hector had complained about my sharing food. He knew, sooner or later, my actions would threaten Syawa. I lowered my eyes, embarrassed and ashamed.
    Syawa would have none of it. With William and Eliza consoling Mother, Syawa squatted beside me to lay his hand on my shoulder. He spoke softly, and tho’ I did not understand his words, I appreciated the obvious comfort he offered. He bade me rise and come with him, leading me to a dwelling at the edge of the village. Chattering away as if I could understand every word, he pulled me inside the hut and settled me beside the warm fire therein. He solicited the mistress of that place to give me another bowl of pottage, which I ate with eyes averted, thinking of my mother so hungry and abandoned in the cold. I would have wept for her, but Syawa was making funny faces as he babbled in an effort to make me smile. I did smile, of course, because he was so relentlessly cheerful and kind, but inside I was trembling, wondering what was to become of us all. I felt so very, very guilty about my mother.
    She always said I was going to be the death of her, and I was beginning to fear her little jest might just come true.

~4~
    P ERHAPS OUR FAMILY SQUABBLE prompted savage action, or perhaps action had been planned for some time. I know not. What I do know is that the day after our tussle, everything changed. Warriors began painting themselves and loading packs for travel.
    Eliza said the commotion I’d caused must have riled our hosts, who were now preparing to finish us off. “Not that you have to fret,” she sneered. “Your little imp will no doubt preserve you to watch the rest of us burn.”
    I could think of no reply to this cold accusation, especially since I was more than a little afraid Liza might be right.
    A huge fire was ignited in the center of the village and the savages of that community gathered ’round. Warriors did their devilish dances, women distributed food, and children ran hither and thither with dogs yapping at their heels. The atmosphere was quite festive and gay, but my family and I could scarce enjoy the revelries. We huddled together, our enmity forgotten as we strove to pass what might be the final moments of our lives in prayer.
    My guardians were nowhere to be seen, and I wondered at their absence. Had the incident with my mother finally snuffed Syawa’s interest? ’Twould not be the first time my mother had driven off a suitor. Before I could linger o’er this worry, however, a group of painted warriors came to escort us to a mat before the fire. Directly across the fire from us was another mat, upon which sat a group of older men and women. With them were two men, elaborately painted and ornamented. Only after staring at these specters for several moments did I recognize Syawa and Hector.
    The chattering of the crowd