had also seen the place where Mr Snow would give up his life so that
he, Cadillac, might be saved. In his grief he had shed bitter tears,
cursing the gift of seership, and he had silently vowed never to pick
up a seeing-stone again. The Wheel turned, the Path was drawn. If
nothing could be changed then it was better not to lift the Veil. Let
the future hold its secret sorrows; the pain of the present was burden
enough.
In the days that followed, as he lengthened the slim fuselage pod and
fitted a second seat behind his own, Cadillac tried to come to terms
with what had happened.
Standing on the bluff with Clearwater and Mr Snow, watching the cloud
warrior rise on the freshening wind and turn over the hills towards the
south, he had decided there would be no accusations, no
recriminations.
The true warrior did not allow himself to be deflected by such unworthy
emotions as envy or jealousy. But Cadillac had only just begun to take
the first few faltering steps along The Way and had not yet attained
the necessary degree of philosophical detachment.
Clearwater's infatuation with the cloud warrior had hurt him deeply.
Already persuaded by his own inner demons that he lacked standing, he
could not bear the idea of being second-best. Had he wished to avenge
his honour, he could have denounced her in front of the assembled clan
and demanded her death. By the laws of the Plainfolk, her trial would
have been a mere formality.
But that route was not open to him. Even now, Cadillac would have
gladly given up his own life to save hers. The bonds of friendship,
rooted in the shared pain and joy of their childhood and nurtured by
their special 'otherness', could never be broken until Mo-Town called
their spirits back into the luminous crystal waters that filled the
great Cup of Life. Moreover, he had no proof Clearwater had betrayed
him. She had not confessed her guilt. Indeed, her manner towards him
had hardly changed. But he knew! He knew! Her clouded blue eyes told
him that her mind and heart had parted company with his.
He also knew that, as a fellow-summoner, Mr Snow was bound to leap to
her defence, leaving him completely tongue-tied. The degree of respect
and obedience demanded by the ancient code of the wordsmiths made it
impossible for an apprentice to contradict his master publicly. To do
so would have been an unforgivable breach of etiquette. But even if he
had been foolish enough to try, he could never have won an argument
with Mr Snow. Far from gaining any sympathy, he would find himself
being mocked by those who envied him and sought to bar him from the
ranks of the Bears.
