by Smith, T. L.
They all looked at me, but I couldn’t see anything except the display ahead of me. A structure stood in the middle of the roof. From four posts hung banners of the four Earthly Elements. Beneath each banner sat an Elder. Each Element and each Elder represented a conference of People. With all four Elders here, the entire Nation was considered present.
My heart thudded at the significance of this display. My father complained that even with Unity, it was difficult to get a full consensus. But they were here and in the center of the elders, sat a woman covered by a feathered robe. My mother.
Only I was surprised to see her. The Spirit expected it. My mother sat erect with her eyes closed, humming a tune I’d heard all my life. It was the tune she hummed in meditation. The song called to me, or to the Spirit within me. Flickering memories led me into the structure. I started to circle inside the structure, finally kneeling in front of an Elder.
Water. The Elder raised her head and I recognized her. She was the older version of my friend, Yazzie. Of course she would be first. Her tribe hosted this gathering. I bowed my head to her as she shook a water reed, sprinkling river water over me.
I expected it to be cool and refreshing, but instead each drop felt heavy. Each drop brought me memories of burdens I carried in my mortal life. Lives of soldiers and friends lost in the war. Lives of enemy combatants. The weight of the lives my decisions changed. The weight of Lutz’ death. Even though I knew in my heart each of my actions were necessary, each drop was sorrow. Each drop a teardrop.
Earth was the next banner and an elderly man sang to me, dusting my body with what looked like glitter, but I could feel it wasn’t plastic. Gold dust clung to my damp skin. Sparkling in the light and bringing to me thoughts of all the things I had pursued, not because of the things I needed, but simply wanted. Sometimes taking what I hadn’t earned.
Not just possessions, but people, promotions, and the images I wanted others to have of me, whether they were real or not. I had fought my way into a misogynist society and pretended to be someone I really wasn’t. I wasn’t real in that world, or in this one, not with another being inside me. Who was I? I wanted to brush the gold off, but the song ended and the Spirit inside pulled me to the next Elder.
I went to Fire, afraid of what this Element would expose. A man my father’s age twirled fire batons close enough to my skin they almost singed my flesh, but I was unharmed. Unburned, but feeling heat wash through me. The heat of lingering anger and resentments I’d buried deeper and deeper as I grew older.
Anger against prejudices because of my race, prejudices against my gender. Anger made me be a person I wasn’t. I felt disappointment that my family didn’t respect my choices, that I lost the bond I had with Frankie for so many years. I didn’t know why. I even felt resentment towards Casey. He’d wanted me to return his love. I was afraid to let myself feel. Afraid it would make me weak.
These thousand wounds left by the first three Elements burned from the inside out. Stinging, I stumbled to the last Elder. I fell to the blanket beneath the Air banner. The woman was young, only a bit older than Daniel. She sang, her breath gentle against the pains left by Water, Earth and Fire.
Her voice was soft, but it carried a strength that said everything stopped to listen to her. Her song was light, but also sad, pulling at every regret, every sin, at every guilt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she pulled them all to the surface. She looked upwards and my head tipped back too.
I stared up into a sky already dark enough for stars to flicker bright. Her song changed, to a prayer. If my Spirit was still strong, my mortal weaknesses would be washed away. If my Spirit was tainted with too much darkness, I would be rejected. My Spirit sang with her.
A burst of air washed down over me. It didn’t pass as a breeze should, but swirled around me in a funnel. My body relaxed into the whirlwind, swaying with it, waiting for and accepting judgment. The breeze turned cold, embracing me. It grasped every pain the other Elements pulled to my flesh, blowing them away, cleansing my soul. Accepting me. Preparing me to face the Ci’inkwia priestess. My mother.
Circling the structure again, I felt no hesitation as I knelt before my mother. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, nor stopped humming. Outside the four posts, people began to circle us. Those closest were the Ci’inkwia. They wore ceremonial robes with feathers attached at the hems and woven into their hair or headbands. They sang in the language we were never allowed to use in public.
They got louder as they danced, then all suddenly thrust their arms to the east. I looked and there was the moon rising over the mountains. The song and dance became a frenzy as the moon continued to rise, casting light over the rooftop. Once it was fully up from behind the mountains, they tapered off until they too only hummed, swaying to this sacred hymn.
With no dancers to distract me, I looked to my mother again. She opened her eyes, but what I saw in them wasn’t the cheerful glitter I’d grown up to. “My daughter. Tonight you become the Ci’in and become leader of all our People.”
She spoke to me, in English so that all in attendance could understand. “Before the final ceremony to free your true Spirit to this world, I must have a decision from your mortal being.”
This part of the ceremony was in my Spirit’s memories, I could feel it, but she wasn’t sharing with me. It seemed important for me to face alone. It confused me. I’d already agreed to do this. “Please ask me, Mother.”
She nodded. “We have been of this world for thousands of years, sharing mortal bodies and mortal lives. The only release from this world is battle with a Maxa’xak. Some Ci’inkwia may give so much of their energy to destroy our enemy, that their Spirit is too diminished to remain. Yet they may want to, if they have attached to a mortal.”
My mother glanced to the star glittering in the south. The distant star flashed a little brighter. “Before every battle the Ci’inkwia must make the conscious choice, should this be their time.”
A sound drew my eyes away from the star, away from the humming. The elevator doors opened and my father stepped out, followed by Casey. They had dressed him in little more than a breechcloth. I resisted laughing as he realized the roof was packed with people and he was almost naked. He dropped his hands down over the breechcloth.
CHAPTER
23
Casey stood silhouetted in the rising moon. He saw me and started to take a step towards me, but my brothers seized him. Casey tensed, but didn’t fight them, instead glanced back at my father, who only nodded.
“Din’ah.” My mother’s voice called my attention back to her. “We are the children of the Great Father, of the Great Mother. We came from the stars to defend the people of this world from the Maxa’xak. We will face one of their kind soon in battle.” Her eyes glistened. “As the Ci’in, it is your task to vanquish this Maxa’xak. If it is the last, our people will be free. All Ci’inkwia Unbound will be free to return to our home.” Her arm drifted to the south star.
“Those who are Bound will live out their lives with their mortal mates. If this is truly the last Maxa’xak, all Unbound Ci’inkwia will leave this world.”
She repeated herself, slowly. I heard what she said, but it didn’t register. My Spirit showed me nothing. My eyes drifted to the flickering southern star, feeling a deep yearning to reach out to it. I looked to the first circle of dancers. Men and women mixed together. All Ci’inkwia. Dressed like my brothers, like my parents.
Behind them were the tribes we protected, the tribes we pretended to belong to. Stephanie and Olivia stood there, and their children. Married to Daniel and Frankie. Chucky’s wife was here too, looking very pregnant. They were Navajo, but all my nieces and nephews looked like their fathers, like the Ci’inkwia. I never noticed that before.
An uneasiness crept into the calmness the earlier ritual had created. I looked to Casey. His expression looked odd, pained. What was he afraid of?
Suddenly I knew. I felt it as strongly as I felt the pull of that southern star. I ha
d to choose. I had to choose now! “You are asking if I want to be married. If I know what will happen if I’m not when I face the enemy and kill him.”
My mother nodded. “If you vanquish him, your Unbound Spirit will be released from the burden placed upon us. If he is the last of our enemy, all Unbound Ci’inkwia will be released.”
I swung my head around to meet Casey’s eyes again. “I’ve already given my promise to Casey. He is the man my heart is already… Bound to.”
His fear disappeared and my mother gave a soft sigh. Her eyes glistened just a little lighter, just a little more of the woman I knew. She raised her arms to the sky, lifting her robe of feathers. “This woman choses to be Bound to an earth Spirit and live out a mortal life. They must be Bound now.”
“Now?” I twisted around as my brothers tied a rope around Casey’s waist. “What’s happening?” I got no answer from my mother, or my Spirit, but the circle of Ci’inkwia shifted. All the men stepped forward into a tighter circle as my father took the rope and pulled Casey into that circle.
I felt the brush of feathers as my mother was on her feet, stepping past me. She went to Casey, facing him, staring into his eyes. “Din’ah is to be the Ci’in. Only a mortal man of pure Spirit can marry one such as Din’ah, and survive when she comes into her full power. You are of pure Spirit. Are you pure enough of heart to be Bound to one of our kind? Strong enough to hold her to your world?”
Casey bowed his head to my mother. “My heart has always been Bound to Din’ah. It always will be and I will stand with her, as herself or as the Ci’in, in this and all challenges. I will stand with her and protect her until my own death.”
“You must face the tribe, who will test your claim upon Din’ah.” She stepped out of the circle and the song changed, to one of challenge. Each man withdrew an arrow from their quivers. I wanted to protest, but my Spirit prevented me from moving.
I was forced to watch as the men turned ferocious, screaming war cries as they lunged at Casey, jabbing him with their arrows. They drew blood, daring him to flinch, daring him to run. I suspected the worst of what would happen if he failed, but I knew my man. He didn’t run from anything. He wouldn’t run now.
Still, tears edged out as blood ran down his body. I could see his pain, even feel it, but he stood his ground until the song ended and the men withdrew. Casey looked ready to collapse. My heart ached for him, pounding hard in my chest. There were places where arteries ran close enough to the surface to be accidently nicked. Casey could bleed out and I was frozen in place.
Mother took the rope and the women stepped forward. They held long white feathers. I half-expected them to drive the quills into his flesh, but instead they started to sing our version of the Blessingway, brushing their feathers over his body. White feathers turned blood red, and with each flick of their wrists, Casey’s wounds stopped bleeding.
Casey’s obvious pain eased too, but he still looked exhausted as she brought him into the structure. She instructed him to kneel on the blanket behind me, but to not touch me. She released the end of the rope, then returned to the circle. She collected each feather. When she had them all, she raised the cluster to the moon and the Ci’inkwia all sang again.
She waved the feathers to the southern star. “The chosen mate has passed through the first two tests and is proven pure of Spirit, brave and true.” She carried the feathers in front of her, back into the structure, with two elderly women following her. She laid the feathers in the space between Casey and myself. The two women knelt with the rope and feathers between them. Not looking at anyone or anything, but the feathers.
Mother returned to the place opposite me. “Din’ah. Daughter. This man is accepted by your family and by our tribe, but there is one final test you both must face. He must endure watching you suffer as your Spirit is completely brought to the surface. He must not touch you for any reason. He may only hold onto the rope that will tie you to him.”
The two women behind me started humming a tune and from the corner of my eye, I watched as they tucked the quills of the feathers into the rope, one threading the feathers, the other separating the quill and using beads to bind the feathers to the rope.
Casey watched too, confused with what they were doing as well. He nodded to me and I looked back at my mother. “No touching. We understand.”
“No, you do not. Not yet.” She folded her hands over her chest. “I am of the blood. I am Ci’in, but I am not the Ci’in. That is decided by the Great Mother at the rebirth of every Ci’in. She marks that child and when she enters the Rising, it is of an intensity that some mortal bodies do not survive. There has not been a daughter with the mark for over a hundred years.”
The position of her hands on her chest told me what mark she referred to. A birthmark that somewhat resembled a starburst on my lower sternum.
“From your birth we knew you would face a Maxa’xak.” She waved her arms to the circle around us. “With other Ci’in, we saw signs of the Rising, but it has come on you so quickly that we had no time to help you integrate.”
Her eyes were getting that edge of fear in them again. “You and your Spirit must be integrated before you face battle and time requires we force the process. If your mortal body bears a weakness we have not seen, releasing her so suddenly can kill you.”
I heard Casey let out a gasp, but he didn’t move, as promised. My mother nodded to him, approving his self-control, but warning him too. “In this one night we must integrate you to your true Spirit. If you survive, then we will Bound you to Casey. But your Spirit must accept him too. If the rope is broken…”
“I will go into battle Unbound, and if I kill the Maxa’xak, I will die too.” I couldn’t sense my Spirit’s feelings towards Casey, only my own. “ I looked to Casey. “I will survive this and she will accept you. I promise.”
CHAPTER
24
“I’m ready.”
The women behind me stopped their humming and lifted the rope. The blood-soaked feathers hung from it as they lifted the rope over my head.
My mother spoke up for everyone to hear her. “This woman chooses to be Bound by the blood of a mortal. He has sworn to stand with her for all his mortal time.”
The women lowered the feathered rope in front of me, but held an end out to Casey. “Tie the rope strong, but do not touch her.”
The rope settled around my hips. The feathers were still wet, brushing my legs and leaving stains on my skin and on the pearly white leather of my skirt. A flash of memory from my Spirit said this wasn’t the first time.
“This man offers you his blood and pain. He ties the rope, but you will feel the weight of his commitment to you. If your Spirit breaks the rope, the Bounding will end. If your Spirit accepts, you will remain of this earth until your mortal body passes.”
I felt the first twist of the rope. Casey didn’t pull the rope tight, but the feathers grew heavy on my lap. My breath came harder. The second twist pulled the rope against my stomach.
The song began again, but with different verses. They sang of our home, of our free Spirits, of the freedom of the Ci’in and the Kwia. My Spirit drew me into the sway of the song.
I could feel the Rising. I could see who I’d once been. Completely alien, a completely different being. My Spirit ached in this mortal body and was drawn to that southern star. She wanted to look upon it once more. She want to go to that home.
But she had a duty to perform. She and all her brothers and sister. They had to remain here. It was more than an ancient task laid upon her. She had come to love this world, these people, and needed to save them. She needed to Rise and prepare for battle.
I needed to let her. I surrendered myself to the merging and felt the tug of the rope on my physical body as she rose to face that star. No. We were here to hunt down the Maxa’xak, every last one of them.
She turned to the eastern mountains. One existed there. Our mortal being had found it. We would kill it, then I could return home. If we failed
we would be condemned to this world until the Great Mother selected another of her daughters to be the Ci’in.
I reached out to the star. Great Mother, please let us come home.
No! I turned to Casey. He gave her his blood, endured the pain as our people tortured his resolve. She gave him her promise, as he had given his.
No, she was me. My mortal-self.
The feathers were so heavy. I pressed them between my hands and thighs. Casey’s blood smeared my mortal hands, burning them with his pain. The rope cut into me, even though it still hung loose around my waist. He held the ends as I gasped for air, he held onto her just as he’d promised to do for his short mortal life.
They were Bound together already, in that mortal way of their kind. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. A larger promise controlled me. They circle around me, singing of the life we once had, the life I would give back to them.
But her promise bore as much weight as mine. I felt the heaviness of so many promises. I looked to the priestess, her mother, confused. Why do I feel like this?
I already knew. I was of the stars, inhabiting a mortal body until my task was done. I couldn’t make a promise to him. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t deny this mortal vessel. Her desire to be with him bore as much weight as my desire to go home.
I wanted to go home. Where the sheer energy of the universe flowed through us as blood flowed through them.
“NO!” She screamed to be heard over the flood of my memories.
She made me look at Casey, but I only saw images of other men, of other times. The mortals I’d Bound myself to in other lives. I had learned to love them as did my mortal being, then watched them die. I wanted to go home, but…