Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  Filled with impatience, he waited. For three days after the miracle on the clouds, he'd stayed near the mesa, determined to avoid any question about his early return. He snared a rabbit, then roasted it over the embers of the Stone People in the outside pit. Unable to wait until it was fully cooked, he ripped it from the spit and shoved pieces in his mouth, barely taking time to chew. When only bones remained, he gnawed them too, until he'd consumed even the marrow.

  That morning he went to the stream below and bathed for his journey home. He washed and braided his hair, entwining feathers he found beneath the trees. As a final touch, he added the rabbit's foot.

  Now, seated in all his finery before Star Dancer, he breathed evenly, confident the spirit's powerful sign couldn't be denied even by this envious one. His next step on the shaman's way was assured.

  Her words came, wrenching his heart.

  "I must consult the council. Such momentous news will provoke much discussion. We'll let you know."

  Ravenheart rocked forward. "You would deny my next step? After this?"

  "No, merely a delay. These decisions mustn't be made hastily." She rose, cup still in her hand. "I'll call for you when we decide."

  Hiding his outrage in a cloak of humility, he also rose. Her jealousy had prevailed again. Argument would be useless. Bowing his head respectfully, he stepped off the dais, said his parting words, and left the longhouse.

  Star Dancer's response had so thoroughly doused his expectations that Ravenheart was almost surprised to find the sun still shining. He stared at the bleached-out sky, still reeling from the new obstacle she'd thrown onto his path. Again, she doubted him! Again!

  He could, of course, continue the shaman's way without her blessing. Others had traveled the path without a High Shaman's guidance. But he would waste countless winters mastering what she could teach in a single moon, and though he scoffed at the thought, it nonetheless occurred to him that without her help he might never master the teachings at all.

  As he headed for his pueblo, he realized he'd stepped into shadow. Looking up, he saw a gathering storm mass scudding toward the sun. Soon the village center turned bleakly gray.

  Another omen? He turned away, refusing to doubt the great wolf's words. You shall rule forever. Yes, forever.

  And by the time he'd reached the walkway to his quarters, Ravenheart almost believed he really had encountered White Wolf Woman.

  "You are the werewolf?"

  Lily looked up to see a man of probably twenty years or so regarding her with intense gray eyes. She'd been eating the evening meal by herself, sitting on a stone wall that surrounded the fire pit and trying to ignore the covert glances and murmurs of the other diners, all of whom stayed well away from her.

  "No," she replied. "I'm not."

  Lowering himself cross-legged to the ground in the smooth way all Dawn People seemed to possess, he leaned forward earnestly. "But you were a werewolf, isn't that true?"

  "One might say that."

  He inclined his head gravely and continued looking at Lily as she nibbled a piece of bubbly brown bread that had a delicious flavor. After four days of being ignored by everyone but Shala, it felt odd to be under such scrutiny.

  "I am Arlan Ravenheart," he said after a time, giving his head a proud toss that sent the red feather and rabbit's foot in his hair flying. "I returned but yesterday from a vision quest and only now learned you were here. Otherwise, I would have sought you out before."

  Lily looked up from her food. "Sought me out? I'm not exactly an honored guest."

  "The wolf came to me in my vision. It bodes well to receive such a powerful guide, and I now wish to fully understand its ways."

  Lily laughed. "By asking a werewolf? Would you learn about men by studying gorillas?"

  Just then his sharp, beak-nosed face twisted in annoyance and he bellowed, "That is mine!"

  Lily followed his livid gaze to find a gawky adolescent boy hovering over a plate on the hearth, a piece of pork halfway to his mouth. His hand froze at Arlan's shout and he quickly dropped the meat.

  "Well, perhaps you might take that approach," Lily commented caustically as she watched the boy scurry away.

  Arlan greeted her remark with a blank stare. "These young ones have no manners. As to your question about the gorilla, I see it differently. I believe this is more like learning of the spirits by studying men. We are all made in like image. As above, so below."

  Lily gawked at Arlan, trying to decide if he was serious. She'd learned from White Hawk, Shala, and Star Dancer that these people possessed a keen and subtle sense of humor, but this grave face in front of her held no hint of amusement.

  So far she hadn't been sure if she much cared for him, but now she knew she didn't. She supposed she couldn't afford to turn away a supporter, but on the other hand what difference did it make? Rocking forward, she made a move to leave.

  "Wait," he implored. "It's important I learn all I can. I'm Star Dancer's apprentice in the shaman's way. Someday I will be High Shaman. It is already done."

  Not so, Lily thought. Surprised to hear a shaman speak those words lightly, she gave in to her urge to goad him. "Really? I thought White Hawk had the job cinched."

  Ravenheart sneered and rapped his chest. "White Hawk's heart is soft, like a woman's."

  "I'm sure Star Dancer would be delighted to hear that opinion."

  His eyes clouded with obvious confusion but before he could respond bird screams tore the air. A few seconds later a hawk dropped from the sky and landed in the village square. After several more cries it flew off.

  "I will do much greater things," Ravenheart mumbled sullenly, then he climbed to his feet and walked away, leaving Lily to wonder what he meant by that.

  A few minutes later she saw White Hawk emerge from a group sitting around one of the other fires. He stopped not far from where she sat, looked at her solemnly, then hurried toward the longhouse door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Delmar is dying, Riva," Tony said, stalking back and forth across the width of the longhouse. "I must go and make my peace with him. There's unfinished business in Quakahla, which I'll take care of in the morning. When the heat of the day has passed, I'll leave."

  "This is an important time between you and your father," Riva replied, putting down her shuttle and turning to him.

  "Two more requests . . ." Tony looked away. "Please forbid Shala to keep company with the she-wolf."

  "Tony—”

  "Lily already lied to Shala," he said heatedly. "She's denied her knowledge of Tajaya's death."

  "That's not surprising."

  "But Shala is growing fond of her." Tony glanced beseechingly at the ceiling. "Although it defies my understanding. When the truth comes out—and it will—she'll be devastated. What father wouldn't want to prevent that?"

  "Do you honestly think forbidding her to spend time with Lily will dim her– Please stop that pacing, Tony."

  Riva patted the seat of a chair next to her. Tony grimaced sheepishly and sat down.

  "Your desires are very human. But as you should know by now, you can't keep surrendering to them. What's more, defending your desires so ferociously only feeds them."

  Although she hadn't said it in so many words, Riva wasn't going to honor his wishes about Lily and Shala, and though her biting insights made Tony feel like squirming, he decided to put his second request on the table.

  "I've tried to honor Lily's nature. Unsuccessfully, as you well know. It's time I took this to the spirits. I want to go on a vision quest before I return to the village."

  "Will you also ask for help in releasing Tajaya's memory?" Riva asked. "And in permitting your daughter to seek her own path?"

  Tony pressed his lips together. "I'll ask, but my heart isn't in it."

  "It will be," Riva replied. "It will be. Your request is granted. Now let's sit and talk of other things until your heart is again at ease."

  She rose and went to the cupboard to fill two cups with tea
. While Tony waited he thought how often they'd simply sat together, laughing, talking about inconsequential things — the pattern of Riva's latest weaving, the antics of one of the village children, a particularly fine meal at one of the hearths. But as he accepted the cup and sipped the liquid inside, he knew this wouldn't be one of those times. His heart would never be at ease again until Lily was gone from the canyon.

  Or dead.

  * * *

  The next morning Lily carried her breakfast to a shallow ravine she'd discovered a few days earlier that had an enormous sycamore in the center. The ancient tree's trunk branched out into dozens of limbs that grew so tall Lily had to tilt her head to see their tops. She took a seat on one of the lower branches, enjoying the cooling effect of the shade beneath the gently swaying leaves.

  It was just shortly after sunrise, but the sun was already warming the moist air, and her thin cotton top clung uncomfortably to her body. She shook the fabric to fan herself, then picked up a vegetable omelet that she'd wrapped inside a soft tortilla.

  When she'd dished up her breakfast at the hearth, a few of the tribespeople sneaked looks her way, but most didn't give her a second glance. Apparently they were getting used to her.

  They were a busy people, she decided, and happy too. They toiled in their fields, tended their sheep and pigs and goats, wove and constructed their clothing, made pots and baskets. But they never seemed in a hurry. . . .

  Except when they were headed to and from the mysterious narrow canyon at the far end of the pueblo wall. What was so fascinating about that canyon? Quakahla maybe? She'd heard it mentioned again and again, and the gaily reverent tones made her believe it was some kind of holiday, probably occurring at the fall equinox on September twenty-third.

  She vaguely recalled something significant about this year's equinox. Even though astrology played a large part in the Lupine culture, and as a queen she'd been well educated in it, she couldn't quite put her finger on why this one seemed particularly important. But there was no reason to renew that recollection. The equinox was over two weeks away and she'd be gone by then.

  She just wished she felt more urgency about escaping. Lately she seldom thought about it. Her days with Shala, walking along the river as she explained the uses of various plants and told the ancient stories of her people, filled Lily with contentment.

  Taking a bite of the omelet burrito, she realized she even liked the food. It was better than anything their maid had prepared, although the woman was an excellent cook.

  A dragonfly buzzed overhead, and she observed it for a while, oddly fascinated by the iridescent tones of its wings. Then she shook her head. She had to make plans to leave the canyon. The Tribunal could convene at any time and though she'd pressed Star Dancer for a date on several occasions, the answer was always the same: "The sign hasn't come."

  Exactly what was this sign? No answer to that one. "Mind if I join you?"

  Lily looked up to see Arlan Ravenheart entering the ravine. Without waiting for a reply, he sat on the branch beside her. It sagged slightly from the additional weight, and Lily waited for it to settle down, then bit into her burrito again.

  Ravenheart leaned forward, his gray eyes filled with eagerness. "I've come to learn more about werewolves."

  Lily's appetite vanished. She put the burrito down. "I don't have anything to tell you."

  "You must remember what it was like. How are your kind created, for instance?"

  His question made Lily remember how much she'd once yearned to talk about her Lupine life. No one had been willing to listen. Until now. Although she found Ravenheart less than endearing, at least he believed her.

  "A number of ways," she finally offered. "Certain flowers, when eaten, will bring about the transformation. Some rivers contain water with properties that will do the same. But both of these are rare and hard to find. The most common way is by ceremony."

  He nodded, his expression turning reflective. Lily went back to her burrito.

  "Can you make me into a werewolf?"

  Lily's head jerked up involuntarily, and she stared at him darkly. "Do you know what you're asking? By the next day you'd be eating your people for breakfast" — she tapped her plate — "instead of one of these."

  "Wolf came to me in a vision and revealed a destiny I plan to fulfill to its ultimate end."

  "Ultimate . . . ?" Lily laughed incredulously. "How many of your people did my companion and I slaughter, Arlan?"

  "Such impulses wouldn't enslave me. Wolf is my brother, not my master, as he is for you."

  He was clearly unaware he'd insulted her, nor did he realize he'd displayed his arrogance. She gave him a scathing look. "Why would I do such a thing?"

  "In repayment, I would grant your freedom."

  Freedom . . . The word rang in Lily's ears. Freedom. Her eyes drifted beyond him, taking in the lush foliage of the shallow ravine. Near the entrance, two flourishing mesquites lifted their thin-leafed branches to the sky. She fixed her gaze on them, watching the nearly imperceptible motion of their leaves.

  Freedom.

  "You have the power to do that?" Not that she had the power to grant his wish, but she could deal with that later.

  He nodded his head. "Tell Star Dancer you want me to be your advocate before the Tribunal. Instead of taking you to meet them, I'll lead you out—"

  Torn between horror at the treasonous offer and her own desire to escape, Lily barely heard the rustle coming from behind the mesquites. Obviously Ravenheart heard, because his pause lengthened.

  A second later Shala stood beneath the branches of the trees. Her blue eyes grew large with apprehension when she saw Arlan glaring at her.

  "Go away, girl," he ordered curtly.

  Lily quickly intervened. Giving the man a look that commanded him to be civil, she pointedly asked, "Are we finished here?"

  "For now. But we will speak more of this." Getting up with obvious reluctance, he gave Shala a resentful look, then disappeared behind the trees.

  Shala hurried over, climbed up on the tree limb, and settled beside Lily. "I had a little time before my lessons, and thought you might want to hear the next White Wolf Woman legend."

  "You thought that, did you?" Lily asked lightly, sensing Shala was holding something back. "All on your own? First thing in the morning?"

  Shala looked away, plucked a piece of peeling bark from the tree's enormous trunk, and studied it intently. "Well, uh, Star Dancer said you might want to hear it."

  So Star Dancer had sent Shala. Lily wondered what the High Shaman's purpose was—she knew the woman had one. Considering White Hawk's obvious disapproval of their friendship, she wondered why Star Dancer encouraged it. Overriding another's wishes didn't appear to be the Dawn People's way.

  "Shala," she asked, "your father isn't very happy about us spending time together. Why doesn't he make Star Dancer stop sending you to see me?"

  "She is my grandmother."

  Lily's eyes widened in shock. "Your father's mother?"

  "No, no. My mother's mother."

  The news stunned Lily. Star Dancer treated her so kindly, and with so much understanding, yet she'd lost a daughter. . . .

  A mystery better left unsolved, she thought, returning her attention to Shala. She particularly liked the stories about the deer who'd become a wolf and enjoyed listening to Shala telling them. Already the girl possessed an exquisite sense of tinting, knowing when to pause and when to speed up for maximum drama.

  "I'd love to hear your legend," she said.

  Shala jumped off the branch, lowered herself to the ground with folded legs, and then let her eyelids drift half closed. . . .

  "White Wolf Woman was hungry again," she began in a high, sweet voice.

  Since becoming a wolf it seemed she was always hungry. And this particular morning, she slunk through the forest, nose to the ground, sniffing for the scent of a young buck. This one was inexperienced in the way of the predator, and he sped into a ravine where there was only
one escape. White Wolf Woman licked her greedy chops, already savoring his taste.

  She followed the buck into the canyon. When he spied her, he leaped wildly against a rock wall, trying to climb out of the deep ravine. Young and tender he was, with his small rack of fuzzy antlers.

  Jaws open and prepared for the kill, White Wolf Woman flew at the buck's tender throat. Just before she struck, he turned to look at her.

  Here Shala paused, moving her slender arms in a graceful curve.

  Although he'd been only a spotted fawn when Quetzalcoatl had granted Sienna Doe's request, White Wolf Woman recognized him immediately. This young buck was her son. She fell back in horror at what she'd almost done.

  Her son was too young to remember, and when she retreated he gave a long warning call to his relations, then circled around her and ran away.

  White Wolf Woman crumpled onto her haunches and howled. So loud and powerful was her cry, it reached the ears of Quetzalcoatl, who was in the Old World attending to some folly of the Two Leggeds.

  "Please, oh Great One," were the words he heard. "Please, oh Great One, return me to my people."

  Suddenly a fiery ball sped down the narrow ravine. White Wolf Woman knew it would surely kill her, but so great was her sorrow, she did not run. If Quetzalcoatl willed her life to end, she would accept his decision.

  The tight struck like a thunderbolt, smashing her against the rocky soil. Her body and mind burst into thousands of bubbles.

  When she finally awoke, the sun was setting. She climbed to her feet and looked down, confused. The ground was much farther away, and soft brown hide covered her long slender legs, though just a short time before she'd borne shaggy white fur. Her heart rejoiced, and she gave thanks for the miracle Quetzalcoatl had wrought.

  As darkness fell on the ravine, her stomach growled, reminding her she still had not fed. Walking easily, lightly, glorying in the movements of her restored body, she moved to a cluster of grass and began to eat.

  Shala stopped, and Lily waited for her to go on, thinking the pause was just for effect. But the child remained silent and opened her eyes.