“There is more to the value of women than their ability to bear children,” He’heeno said, her hand on my shoulder. “There is great power in you, and great love. Motherhood does not define women. The medicine that empowers our spirits as women is strong in so many other ways.”
I released the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “I-I want—” I swallowed hard. “In England—in my country, women are judged by the ability to bear children. We need to have them to pass our land and our possessions to when we die. We need someone to care for us when we are old.”
“Your people will not care for you?” she asked.
“No, they will not.” It never struck me before how strange that would sound to an outsider. These people would not have debtors’ prisons. They would share food and cures with others, they would share work, they were one, large family.
“That is a poor measure of a woman’s worth,” He’heeno said.
“Yes, yes, it is,” I agreed.
“Does your husband share that poor, unenlightened view?”
My Nate, how dearly he wanted a child to spread life and joy through our home, but he also wanted my happiness. He shared our home with Lum and his children. He welcomed those in need. He had said several times he didn’t care about children, he cared about me. I had no reason to doubt him. A great weight suddenly lifted from my shoulders. “No. I don’t believe he does.”
He’heeno nodded. “I thought not. A man who would help bring my daughter and my grandchildren to me is no common man of the age. There is great power in you and to bring children to this world you must have a great power. But, there is something in you greater still.”
I felt foolish, but I would have traded that power right then for the power other women wielded. He’heeno was right, women should not be defined by the ability to bear children, but it was still something I wanted, more than anything in the world, for myself and for Nate.
Chapter Twenty-One
CHELAN INFORMED ME that Nate would be eating with the men. It was a great honor. I was happy to spend time with Chelan and her mother. Their knowledge of medicines and cures was impressive but, more importantly, they were telling me of our journey ahead.
“Along the path you will meet those wronged by the creature and wronged by the man that summoned him. They will be unable to find peace or complete their journey. They are ghosts that need to be heard. A medicine woman of great power can help them.” Chelan offered me a flat bread that had been baked in a pan and a bowl of a rich, hearty mash of squash and corn, as well as half a fish, as wide as my hand, with charred skin and light, flaky flesh with a mild and smoked flavor. I took a few bites.
“Will they harm us?” I asked.
He’heeno accepted a bowl from her daughter. “No, the wronged dead do not wish to harm the innocent. They only need someone to listen to them. They long for someone to hear them, to tell their wrongs to. Once they are heard, they can leave the path and return to the camp of the honored dead, where they will join the Great Chief in hunting and rejoicing and rejoin their ancestors. There will be much feasting and the great spirits will never allow them illness or pain, again. They may look to you to help them. The Great Spirit looks favorably upon those that aid others.”
I immediately resolved to help any spirit that approached us, especially if Geiger’s monster was involved. He was a monster, and though not one of our making, I did feel a connection to his victims. “He’heeno, not everyone the creature harmed was Cheyenne. Many of them were white people, Americans.”
She laughed. “Do you believe the afterlife is only for Cheyenne? We call the great maker our chief. Our name for him is Maheo. Your missionaries come speaking of a great God who also lives in the sky, able to make the dead walk, and who has a great camp in the sky larger than any other camp known or seen called Heaven, and his son Jesus. The missionaries tell of great monsters, demons that steal the life and spirits from the faithless.”
“The devil?” I asked.
He’heeno nodded. “They say we worship false gods and accepting Jesus was all that would save us from the De-vil. If the life-drinker, the monster that devours men’s reason and poisons their minds, is turned away by Jesus, he is not turned away by the crying of that most sacred name.”
“Don’t let my husband hear you say that,” I said, half to myself.
“He believes in the power Jesus’s name has?” Chelan smiled.
She was not challenging me. “He believes in the power of his faith,” I explained.
“Ahh,” He’heeno said. “Faith is a powerful thing. It is more powerful than a name.”
Yes, we understood one another. Faith mattered more than a mere word. Faith sustained people. Faith sustained her people. Faith sustained Nate. Faith sustained me, for a time.
He’heeno shook her head. “That is why the white man fails when they steal our children and place them in their church homes. They can cut their hair, they can take them from their people, but their souls are still Cheyenne. They will always long to be with their people. They will always long to hunt on sacred lands with the buffalo and the deer, to sing down the sun, to breathe the holy smoke, and to sing the songs of their people. And they will do these things, in this life or the next.”
The Cheyenne, no matter if they were moved or not, would always be Cheyenne. It was like, whether here or in London, I would always belong to England. I would always be my mama and papa’s daughter whether they were living or not. Even before I met Nate, I was his. Even before I started my first grand adventure aboard the Lightning Aura, I was an adventurer. I just didn’t know it at the time.
Of course, this was a pale comparison to having my culture and identity stripped away, but I could understand not being allowed to be what I knew in my heart I was destined to be. I looked away.
I was supposed to read the Tarot. I was supposed to wield its power for the good of those I loved. Or was I? Several of my beloved symbols had burned away. I was no longer sure that my faith was enough to sustain me. My blind faith in God was shaken when creatures like the Lamia and the dead men of Molten Cay were allowed on this earth. Father Henri was a priest and an educated man. His faith sustained him. But I struggled to reconcile faith in God and the power of the Tarot and all the monsters and otherworldly creatures Nate and I had encountered together.
How did that strengthen Nate’s faith and weaken mine?
He’heeno reached for me, her hand warm on my shoulder. “There are those who use our wisdom bestowed by the Great Chief for good, and those who use that wisdom for evil. For all the whites that cause us harm, I do not believe you ever will. If I can help you, I will.”
“Thank you.” I said, “I don’t have anything I can offer you in return.”
“You brought my grandchildren and my daughter safely to us. That is a kindness. Kindness offered is enough.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
THE NEXT MORNING, we planned to start our journey.
We had more of the flat bread, thick with honey after dinner. The great bear was the sacred keeper of dreams, and our bodies would need sleep and the blessing of honey to keep us strong while our spirits journeyed. The bee was a special friend to bear, so honey was a special, holy food for this ritual.
It made as much sense as anything else, so Nate and I ate as much as we were able to hold.
We followed He’heeno into her home. Wooden shutters covered the windows, and thick blankets and furs lay on the floor. The cabin was quiet, aside from the occasional pops from a small fire.
“You both need to understand what will happen. The striped cat that hunts your spirit does so because of a wrong done to the spirit world. You must ask the Great Hunter to calm the spirit of the striped cat so it will allow your babies to come to you.”
Nate nodded. He had a mission. He operated best when he had a concrete goal.
He’heeno turned to me. “Remember the paintings. Our gods are not so different from yours. They wish to protect man. They wish to
aid man, but some require gifts before you can receive their help. If you encounter the horned serpent, you must appease her before you can pass.”
I swallowed hard. The horned serpent. I could only think of one horned serpent. The one I had wronged by desecrating her holy resting site by breaking apart her skeleton where she lay in the sleep of death, the arrow of Hou Yi forever in her side.
I had done it to keep an unstoppable killing machine from slaughtering all the world, a tiny voice in my head reminded me. I pressed the voice aside. A sin, no matter for what reason it was done, is still a sin. We had no good choices. Just because I did it to save the world from Xihuan-Lung doesn’t mean her spirit wasn’t angered by my action.
He’heeno continued. “In order to appease the striped cat, you must speak to its spirit in its own realm. And, of course, ask the Great Hunter for his forgiveness.”
“So, we have to travel to the spirit realm.” Nate nodded to himself.
“You do,” He’heeno said. “You must walk the path the dead take to the afterlife. It follows the path of the stars, the bright band that stretches across the night sky to the camp of the dead.”
“How do we get there?” I asked. “I know you said, ‘follow the smoke.’”
“I can set you on the path to the underworld,” He’heeno said. “It is a long journey, and not a safe one.”
“We understand,” Nate said.
“No, you do not,” she said. “You are trying to understand, but if you do not return in time your body will die and you will be trapped in the place between worlds. Seana will not take you and you cannot return to the world of the living. You will be a shade, trapped between worlds for all time.”
Trapped for all time. She suddenly had my full attention again. “What is Seana?” It was not the first time she had said the word.
Chelan touched my hand. “The Camp of the Dead. You would call it Heaven. It is the place we all go when we die; it is the afterworld. It is the place where we all must go someday, but trying to cheat the journey can trap you in a place man is not meant to be. A place meant only for the spirits.”
“Is that where the wendigo is?” Nate asked.
He’heeno shrugged. “Sometimes. It is a place that is neither good nor evil. It is a path. The pathway is just a way of taking the journey. But a journey is not a destination, and it is certainly not a place for anyone of the living world.”
“How long will we have?” I asked.
He’heeno reached for my waistcoat and started unfastening it. “If you cannot return from the sacred path through the stars in three days your spirit will never find its way back from the path and your body will become confused. Your body cannot live without a spirit. Without a true death your spirit cannot make the journey across the stars to Seana. You will be trapped between worlds forever, until forever ends.”
“Do people last less than three days?” Ever practical Nate had to know.
“Yes. If someone from the living world dies upon the journey they are lost forever. They cannot return to the land of the living and they cannot resume the journey to Seana. They are lost forever among the stars.” He’heeno piled my belt and weapons off to the side and added my waistcoat to the pile.
Nate took off his own belt and weapons and waistcoat as well.
He’heeno had us lay down before the fire on the floor. The wood planking was hard beneath the striped woven blankets. “Do not be afraid.”
Nate shrugged, an awkward looking motion from where he lay across from me. “How can I die if I am already dead?”
“You will not be truly dead; your spirit will be removed from your body. It is a sort of dead. If you do not wish to make the journey, I understand. You will find guidance. The spirits will not leave you to flounder alone. It is not their way.”
I took a shuddering breath, “How will we know what we are looking for?”
“Do not worry, what you are searching for is the striped cat. The striped cat will find you.”
The striped cat. I felt a little shiver. My mama called the sensation a goose walking over your grave. Mr. Quinn said the Chinese curse was a tiger stalking my shadow. The tiger would find me once I crossed into the underworld. I wondered if the dragon, Xihuan-Lung, would find me, too. After all, it was Xihuan-Lung I had offended when I disturbed her grave. If that was the case, once we crossed into the spirit world both a tiger and Xihuan-Lung would come after me. If I was killed there, I would be unable to go to Heaven. It mattered to me because that was where Nate would end up, lost to the path or not, he was a good man of faith. He would be saved.
But if I failed, I would be separated from him. Striped cat or no, dragon or no, I was going. I only hoped the spirit of an angry, wronged dragon could be reasoned with.
“Remember,” He’heeno said. “I can only set you on the path. I cannot take you there.”
I put my hand upon Nate’s shoulder. He was tired, we both were. Our nerves were frazzled after being harried by the wendigo and the possibility of being stalked by Geiger. I wanted to go home, but I knew that if we did there would be no baby for Nate. Not now, maybe not ever. No matter what he said, even if it didn’t matter today, it would matter soon.
We had to try. I was losing my mind. I could not continue to see these phantoms forever. And, if the wendigo was truly chasing us, then returning to England would not stop it. If anyone knew how to fight it, let alone defeat it, it would be here.
Nate, my champion, was nearly useless against the wendigo. It seemed to pull the very life from him. While that was better than turning him into a killer, it was only marginally better. I was not about to stand by and watch the wendigo chase us across the world, wearing us down until we had no way left to fight him, watching it murder those we loved, or turn them into murderers, before it finally killed us.
No, we needed any guidance He’heeno could offer, even if it was just to point us down a path she could not follow. “I understand.”
He’heeno nodded sagely. “You are in need of healing.”
I caught my lower lip between my teeth. “I am.”
She started chanting. The words were gentle, flowing water, soothing and beautiful and hypnotic. They lulled me into the kind of senselessness that came just before sleep, when you knew you were dropping off and moving was too much effort. A rich, herbal scent floated on the air, mingling with the earthy smoke, filling my lungs. It was intoxicating, and I floated between the smoke and the chanting. All that anchored me to this world was Nate’s hand, warm and sure in mine. I fought to make my muscles respond. Finally, I gave him a squeeze. Thankfully, he gave me a reassuring squeeze back.
I was not alone.
Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. It was as though a heavy weight had settled upon my chest. My pulse raced. I was being squeezed, strangled. He’heeno had said we would be removed from our bodies.
I could not breathe. The pressure on my chest became stronger, it crushed the life out of me. I needed He’heeno to stop, now! This was going too far. My blood pounded in my ears. I couldn’t move. I felt Nate’s hand in mine, but he was so far away, like a chasm had opened between us, growing wider by the moment. The scent of herbs and smoke strangled me.
I got a flash of a card. A figure, pierced in the back with one, two, three, four…no ten swords, straight in the back. The figure lay on his stomach, draped in a red cape. The Ten of Swords—defeat, crisis, sudden endings, loss. I squinted. Everything went dark.
Oh, God! I recognized the cape! It was my coat, not red but wine-colored, and the waistcoat was my own brown corset cover. The dark hair was lost under the shadows cast by the swords. It wasn’t a man. The stabbed figure was me.
I was dying.
Chapter Twenty-Three
IT WAS DARK. The sky was warm, smoky, and orange. A soft haze had settled across the land. The ground was a beautiful slate gray, with flecks of dark, shimmering blue. The sky made these colors. It was like I was walking in the sky itself, on the far side, not the side y
ou see looking up, but the side God would see when he looks down upon man.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I wheeled around.
It was Nate. I rushed to his arms. He looked different here, wherever here was. He was taller…no, not taller, his chin hit the same place on the top of my head. Here he was just more. More imposing, more radiant, stronger, more charismatic. His dark hair ruffled as though an unfelt breeze taunted and teased him. His skin was radiant, the rough stubble of unshaven beard a stark contrast on his pale skin. He looked moments away from transfiguring into his canithrope self, but showed no sign of the colic that generally accompanied the transformation. Here, he was fierce. Here, he was a true force of nature.
Whatever He’heeno had done to me, to us, we were together.
There were no trees, no grass, no mountains, no animals. I could not hear any birds, just the soft, deafening silence. My boots scuffed the ground. The sound they made was instantly muffled, but I was reassured that my ears worked.
I felt Nate just as much as I could hear him. “Where are we?”
I did not have to look around. “I assume we are on the path.”
“To Seana?”
“I suppose so.”
Nate released me with a frown. “Then we have three days to find your tiger.”
I searched his face to make sure he was not mocking me. He looked resigned, nothing more. My back ached as though I had actually been pierced by the ten swords. Well, just as the Death card did not represent a real death, only the figurative death of a way of thinking, I supposed the Ten of Swords might represent pain that evolves into something new.
“You are right, you have to let go to grow.”
I knew that voice. I never expected to hear it again. I turned, afraid of what I might see.
Papa. He stood, waiting for me. He was thinner than the last time I had seen him. Whatever disease had taken him from me was gone now. He stood straight and tall, no trace of fatigue haunting his steps. There was no bluish tint to his skin, no hollow in his eyes, no sickly pallor.
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