by J. M. LeDuc
“What do they say?”
“That’s the weird thing. They don’t say anything.”
“I don’t understand,” Powaw interjected.
Pamoon glanced toward him before locking eyes on the tree. “The markings are just scribblings, yet they do seem to be trying to speak to me.”
With the image in her head, she closed her eyes, squatted down and nuzzled her best friend’s neck. The sound of Scout’s heartbeat and the feel and smell of his fur brought clarity to what she’d seen.
The dawn of the new moon will bring complete transformation of darkened souls. As it peaks in the night sky, all will be lost.
A cold sweat chilled her skin as she forced herself to stay in her trance.
The carved tree staring back at her from the inside of her eyelids morphed, revealing further knowledge.
If bitten by Kanontsistonties, the spirit of the Kiche will be lost and the gates of the netherworld will open. Its demons will be free to roam the earth.
Pamoon opened her eyes. She clenched her teeth as a cold sweat dripped down her spine. It felt as if someone had dropped an ice cube down her shirt. Using the tree for support, she stood and faced the others.
“When is the next new moon?”
“Why? What did you learn?” Powaw asked.
“When the new moon peaks in the night sky, Bobby’s spirit, and the spirits of the others, will be lost forever.”
White Eagle, having studied the phases of the moon, answered. “The new moon is Thursday night. That only gives you six days.”
“You have until the moon peaks in the night sky,” Powaw corrected. “It won’t be in its highest position until 2:00 a.m., Friday morning.”
Pamoon, her mouth dry, swallowed hard, knowing no words were necessary.
All along their walk, the voices of the Tree People had screamed their cry for help. Their voices loud and hurried. They told her what she already knew: time was running out.
Arriving at the vine-covered wall, Pamoon reached up to place her palm on the flame, but hesitated.
Looking back at the others, she trembled with fear, wishing her dad was with her. “What should I do?” Her voice gave away her insecurity.
Powaw clutched her hands in his. “This world and the one beyond,” he said, head-pointing toward the wall, “are all about making choices. However, with every choice, a new trail is forged. You can never go back to the path you once walked.”
Pamoon wiped her sweat with the sleeve of her shirt. “Great,” she laughed. “Now even you are starting to talk in riddles, and I’m beginning to understand them. I’m not sure which scares me more, my choices or being able to understand what you’re telling me.”
“You always had the ability to understand,” Powaw said. “You just had to listen with your spirit, not your ears.”
The word spirit seemed to quell her fears. “Will the spirits allow you to see what I see once I enter?”
Powaw shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not my world—”
“But you’re the tribe’s spirit leader.”
“Its human spirit leader,” Powaw emphasized. “Although I can communicate with the spirit world, I am not part of that world.”
Understanding, Pamoon looked at Atahk and Scout. “But, it is ours.”
Her palm covering the flame on the wall, the woods shook with more force than ever before.
“What’s happening?” she yelled.
“Stay true,” Powaw said. “The stronger your spirit, the more the Spirit World reacts.”
“Why?” Pamoon gritted her teeth. Electric shocks shot from her palm up through her body, causing a searing pain in her neck.
“It’s the way of the spirit world. It transforms to match the strength of your gifts. As your gifts are revealed, your spirit grows stronger, this world responds likewise. It becomes closer to its full potential.”
“Like me?” Pamoon muttered through clenched teeth.
Yes, like you.
The voice was not Powaw’s, but Kise’s.
The woods and wall stopped shaking, and as before, the entrance to the Spirit Cave stood in front of her.
Powaw fell to his knees, chanting, while taking dirt from the ground and rubbing it on his skin.
Pamoon glanced at White Eagle who read her expression.
“Powaw is taking sacred ground and rubbing it onto his flesh. It will help him mount a hedge of protection around you.”
“He can see the entrance?” she pointed.
“We all can.”
Pamoon eyed them. “How?”
“Your spirit is allowing us to see what you see,” Powaw answered, still rubbing dirt on himself.
She wanted more answers, clearer answers, but the lure of the world beyond the opening was calling her. The cave seemed to be drawing her in and she was anxious to find out why. She eyed her companions and moved the ferns aside with her staff. “Niya.”
Scout, with Atahk perched on his back, walked like a majestic animal through the opening and into the cave, his fur glistening bright white.
Pamoon looked back at Powaw, who placed his hand over his heart. “Don’t forget.”
Pamoon nodded her understanding, took Bobby from Tihk, and carried him into the cave.
Into the spirit world.
45
Spirit World
March 15, 2:00 p.m.
* * *
Pamoon laid Bobby next to the fire, the flicker of the flames stirring him awake.
Scout snarled as Bobby’s eyelids twitched.
Pamoon squatted in front of the wolf, scratching Scout behind the ears. “I need you to stay here and watch over Bobby.”
Scout whimpered at her words.
“It’s the only way,” she said, burrowing her face in his fur. “Atahk and I need to find Kanontsistonties and force the demon back to the netherworld. It’s the only way I can stop him.”
Scout licked her face and went over to the fire. He lay next to Bobby, placing his paw on the beast’s chest. His touch made Bobby recoil and shudder.
That a boy
“Now,” Pamoon thought aloud, “let’s see what the cave can tell us.”
The etchings had once again transformed. The unfinished tapestries were now more complete.
The etchings showed Kanontsistonties—but instead of just a skull, the demon had a neck, shoulders, and arms. Skin covered its face and raw bloody muscle wrapped the rest. The etching depicted the demon sitting atop a tree in the woods “The longer the demon is allowed to live, the more flesh it acquires,” she thought aloud. Studying the carving, Pamoon saw a hole at the base of the tree. She thought it odd, but was too mesmerized by the demonic being to give it much thought.
Following the petroglyphs, the next showed the monster biting a raven—a raven bearing her own eyes. The next one made her quake. The raven dead, and Kanontsistonties more human—more menacing.
“How can I stop this?” Pamoon said.
Use your wiles.
Pamoon’s eyes darted around the cave, hoping to see Kise, but she was nowhere to be seen.
How?
It is written in the Book of Spirits.
Remembering how fast time flew in the spirit world, Pamoon said her goodbyes to her best friend and grabbed her staff. Along with Atahk, she ran from the cave and didn’t stop until she reached the reservation.
* * *
As soon as the cave opening disappeared, Kise appeared. She squatted next to Scout and scratched him between his ears as the wolf whimpered his sadness.
Kise's eyelids drooped slightly while the corners of her mouth pulled down with a minimal twitch; her emotions mimicking Scout's. “I will watch over her as much as possible," she said. "She must do the rest.”
Kise rose and spread her arms out wide, spun in a clockwise direction, and called forth a spirit. Within seconds, one appeared.
A brave.
With his presence, the fire dimmed, and the cave lost some of its luster. Scout stayed t
rue to Pamoon’s command and didn’t leave Bobby’s side, but he growled at the presence of this being.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been allowed back inside the Spirit World.”
“You know you are not allowed into that world,” Kise said. “The cave is as close as you may travel.”
“After all these years, after all I have done, you still hold a grudge.”
“Quiet!” Kise yelled. “You are still a petulant, little boy. Listen to yourself. After all I have done. You think of no one or nothing but yourself. You were once destined for a life on the mount but your ego and inflated self-worth got in your way. That’s the reason you were shunned from the Spirit World and why, until now, I left you to wander and make your own way.”
The brave lowered his head in shame. “If this is how you still feel, why have you called for me?”
“I need you to help protect one whose destiny far outreaches even your own.”
The brave slowly lifted his head.
“Look around, Ayas, and tell me what you see.”
Ayas walked around the cave, keeping a safe distance from the wolf, while studying the walls. “The etchings tell of the one destined to be the Kiche. They also tell of the release of Kanontsistonties.” His voice trailed off as he continued to read the etchings. “Is all this true?”
Kise nodded.
Ayas turned back towards the wall. “One was born who possesses the power of the Yee Naaldlooshii and whose destiny is to become the Sky Spirit Goddess?”
“We both know destinies may change with the wind. Each decision we make changes our path, but the simple answer is yes.”
“What do you need from me?”
“If you choose, you are to watch over her, but do not interfere with her free-will.”
“How?”
“You can help protect her while she is in the woods outside of the reservation—”
“The woods,” Ayas interrupted. “I think I might have seen this girl before.”
“Explain.”
“I was called to the woods you speak of a couple of weeks ago, and while there, I sensed something evil.” Studying the wall, his voice softened, “I saw a girl with a woman. They were being tracked by a demon.”
Kisemanito nodded. “And?”
“And, I used my spirit identity to protect the innocent.”
“There might be hope for you yet,” Kisemanito said, stepping next to Ayas. Facing him, she continued her original thought. “Although I need you to protect her while she is in the woods, you may not do anything that changes her thinking or the path she chooses.”
Ayas looked at the walls once more before answering. “Your task is not an easy one.”
“Finding one’s way back to the Spirit World is never easy.”
Ayas snapped his head toward Kise as if to ask something important, but she was just a white mist before he could speak.
Subsequently, he disappeared in a puff of grey smoke.
46
Tihk
March 15, 8:00 p.m.
* * *
Tihk sat by the fire next to his home and stared, almost in a trance, at the flickering flames. His mind a thousand miles away, he couldn’t stop thinking about the missing teens. Are all the kids in the same shape as Bobby? Are they even alive? And if so, where the hell are they? These questions reverberated in his head. Looking up from the fire, he knew all the pieces of this puzzle lay in one place. The woods.
Staring out past the boundary of the reservation into the thicket of trees, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the lack of evidence when it came to the kids’ disappearances. The search teams and crime scene techs had found nothing to prove they were even in the woods on the night they vanished. The loss of Celia was even stranger. The crime lab found no prints or DNA on her necklace. Nothing made any sense.
Pondering, his eyes focused past the yellow crime scene tape along the border of the woods as if being drawn deep into the trees. Rising, his eyes never wavering, he walked forward, under the tape, and stepped into the woods.
“There must be something we missed,” he said, taking in his surroundings. “I don’t know what, but something.” Remembering his training as a young brave, he changed the orientation of his thoughts. “Maybe I need to stop thinking like a man and start thinking like a brave. Maybe whatever we’re looking for was missed because it can’t be seen. Maybe it’s not flesh and blood.”
With this altered frame of mind, Tihk began to chant as he walked.
He knew the spirits that called these woods their home could hear his plea, though he spoke in a soft and sometimes silent tone. His movements were stealth; his footsteps noiseless, as he continued deeper into the woods. The further he traveled, the surer he became that as he continued to chant, the spirits—both good and bad—heard him.
Close to the campfire, he felt a hot, rancid breeze rush by him. It smelled of decomposed flesh, yet he sensed something alive. About to run, he felt another breeze, a stronger one, come from his backside, striking behind his knees and dropping him to the ground. Instinctively, he reached for his knife tucked into his belt. In one fluid motion, he drew it from its sheath and thrust it at the foul wind. He felt weight and pressure as he plunged it into the air, while at the same time, hearing a faint wail. The sound of a wounded animal.
Scrambling to his feet, his heart pounding, Tihk eyed the woods yet saw nothing. He glanced at the bone blade and elk handle of his knife, blood dripping from the blade onto his hand. As another blast of acrid wind struck his face, cutting his cheek, he knew he had to get out of the woods before the spirit beast attacked again. He thought of heading back to the reservation, but it was too far. He would never make it. Running southwest, he headed for the Everglades. He just hoped he’d make it before being overtaken by the invisible foe.
* * *
Mike and Scott glared at the man who had called them forth. He looked familiar, but in their state, they didn’t know who he was, nor did they care.
Mike lifted his snout, his nostrils flared. Sniffing the air, he smelled something he hadn’t before. The scent of something ancient. Something good. A subconscious growl rose in his chest. The scent was strong.
Whining broke him from his thoughts. His coal black eyes gazed down at Ralph who lay curled in a ball, whimpering and licking his stomach. Licking the gash made by the human.
Mike scowled at Ralph’s weakness and was about to reprimand him, just as the wounded demon faded into black smoke and retreated into the netherworld. His stare fell on Scott, and with a flick of his head, they crept in the direction the man fled.
“There is another spirit here, a spirit that fights against us,” Mike purred. “We need to track its scent and that of the man. We can’t underestimate either.”
* * *
Ayas crouched low in the brush, hiding behind a large oak. His main objective was to keep the Kiche safe from the beasts, but when he saw the brave in trouble, his heart told him to attack. An internal warmth coursing through his being, like the glow of the eternal flame in the Spirit Cave, told him he made the right decision.
As a wandering spirit, Ayas had the ability to become wind, and he used his spirit identity as he followed the brave running toward the swamp. He would follow and try to keep the brave safe . . . just as long as he stayed in the woods.
* * *
Tihk, short of breath, slowed as he broke through the last scattering of pines and stepped into the Glades. Taking a deep breath, he no longer smelled the foul odor. His adrenaline slowed along with his breathing, the deeper he traveled into the swamp. Although his pace abated, his path stayed true as he made his way to a camp he knew well. A Cree camp where young braves learned the way of their people.
Once inside the camp, he searched the lone cabin for supplies. He found a water purifier and some emergency rations. More importantly, he found White Eagle’s stash of maps. Unfolding the map of the swamp, he wasted no time searching for a way home.
Without ai
rboat or swamp buggy, his choices were few. Studying the maps, he hoped in vain that he could find a way without going back through the woods.
47
The Book of Spirits
March 17, 6:00 a.m.
* * *
As soon as Pamoon exited the Misty Woods, she ran straight to Powaw’s. Banging on his door, she called his name to no avail.
“Powaw is not home.”
She turned to see Hassun walking towards her. He was one of the elders who’d argued against her just a few nights before.
“Where is he?” Her words sounded as frantic as she felt.
“He has been in the sweat lodge since he arrived home two days ago.”
Pamoon started to run toward the lodge but was stopped by the power of the elder’s words.
“You cannot halt what has already begun. No man can.”
Pamoon stopped running, snapped her head around, and stomped up to him with fire in her eyes, venom in her words. “And you would just sit by and let this happen. What kind of leader are you? We need to try!”
She watched Hassun look over his shoulder towards the woods, then back to her before speaking. “I have been studying the book,” he said. “There is no way man can send the demon back.”
Pamoon placed her hand on his shoulder. “Will you at least help me try?”
“How?”
“You mentioned the book. Do you mean the Book of Spirits?”
Hassun nodded.
“May I see it?”
Hassun hesitated but relented, “Come with me.”
* * *
Pamoon sat with Hassun and Ralph’s uncle, the keeper of the book, and listened to their wisdom. Ralph’s uncle was a large man, both in height and girth, so it made sense he was called Machk, meaning bear.
The elders both recited stories they had learned when they were young and had since repeated to their children and children’s children over time.