Just an instant? Every time Redbird went on a shaman's journey she learned something new.
Yellow Hair, her arm around Redbird's shoulders, led her to a bed in another room. Redbird had never lain on a pale eyes' bed, but she sat down on the edge and fell back. If she was not so tired she would not have been able to sleep in this bed. It was too soft. Yellow Hair lifted her legs onto the bed for her.
That was the last thing Redbird remembered.
After a day and a night of sleep, Redbird woke refreshed. And hungry. A cure for that was quickly produced for her; and now she was sitting on a pale eyes' chair at a pale eyes' table, devouring slices of fried pig meat and fluffy cakes brought to her by the old servant.
Seated across from her was a fat, smiling woman she had met once before. This woman had tried to comfort her the day Floating Lily was killed. This, she knew, was White Bear's aunt.
Yellow Hair, tears streaming from her turquoise eyes, appeared in the doorway of the room where White Bear lay.
White Bear, she said, wanted Redbird to come to him.
Redbird's hunger vanished. She went rigid.
Yellow Hair weeps now, but I will weep forever after.