Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  She looked imploringly into the woman's eyes. "Please," she said, "tell me when the Tribunal will be held."

  Star Dancer's smile faded. She let go of Lily's feet and straightened up. "I'm still waiting for the sign."

  "What is the sign?"

  "Your advocate must come forward.”

  Lily frowned. "My advocate?"

  "I can say no more." She lowered to sit on the edge of the platform. "But let me impart a parable."

  Lily watched uneasily as Star Dancer's eyes began to glaze. It reminded her uncomfortably of her meal with Tony on the train, and she was unwilling to listen to a similar indictment from this woman she'd come to admire so much.

  "After White Wolf Woman returned to the Deer People as Sienna Doe," Star Dancer began in a voice much deeper than her normal tone, "she was greeted with fear and contempt.”

  Even her own children avoided her, and none spoke except to give curt orders. At first she thought their cruelty would ease with time. But days passed, then weeks, then finally months, and ever they treated her thusly. One afternoon, after being chased away from her grazing by a pair of young bucks, she wandered into the wild forest, sobbing from the pain of her loneliness.

  "Oh, Great One," she cried through her tears, "lift this censure from me and make me one of my people again." Quetzalcoatl suddenly stood in front of her.

  "Daughter," he said, "again I find you full of sadness. Do you wish to return to the way of the wolf?"

  "No, no. My heart desires acceptance from the Deer People as I once had."

  Before he spoke, Quetzalcoatl adjusted his crown, which had fallen askew in his haste to aid Sienna Doe. "You have lived as Wolf and Deer, Sienna Doe, which gives you a deep comprehension of my universe. As Wolf you understood the nature of Deer. Now as Deer you understand the nature of Wolf. Would you have me take that away?"

  "Yes, if I would gain acceptance from my relations."

  "Alas, I cannot grant that." He gave her a look of deep chagrin. "Some wishes are beyond my power. What has been learned cannot be unlearned."

  "But I shall die of loneliness, Great One."

  "Endure, my learned daughter, endure. For if you do, you shall become a bridge between predator and prey. And in the end all shall revere you."

  Then Quetzalcoatl vanished in the blink of Sienna Doe's eyes. She didn't understand why, but she felt better, and she returned to the grassy clearing with her head held high and began to feed.

  This time none disturbed her grazing.

  Star Dancer sat very still, her eyes still closed. White Hawk looked at the floor reflectively, and Shala had curled up by Lily's side. The story obviously had meaning to the three of them, but it had none for her.

  She waited until Star Dancer opened her eyes. "I don't understand. What does the story have to do with my advocate?"

  "Absolutely nothing, Lily," she said, standing and turning to White Hawk. "Finish tending the woman, if you will."

  White Hawk returned the High Shaman's gaze, an enigmatic expression on his face. Actually, Lily thought, he looked as confused as she felt, a word she would never before have applied to him. Finally, he simply nodded, and Star Dancer left the wickiup.

  When she'd gone, White Hawk said to Shala, who was now snuggled under Lily's arm. "You'll have time with Lily in the morning, but you both need rest now."

  "Can't I sleep here?"

  White Hawk smiled. "Lily's scratched and bruised. You would disturb her with your tossing and turning."

  "Oh." Clearly reluctant, Shala disentangled herself and got up and went behind one of the several reed screens that divided the larger room. A moment later she reemerged, carrying a circular object crisscrossed with webbing and decorated with colorful stones and feathers.

  "A dream catcher," she said, presenting it to Lily with a proud grin. "I made it for you after you told me you had nightmares. Before–"

  She knew what Shala had been about to say. No matter how lovingly they treated her, the matter of Tajaya's death would always hang between them. But Lily forced herself to smile in spite of this sobering realization and took Shala's gift, running her fingers over the carefully wrapped leather webbing and admiring the unique striations of the turquoise.

  Her throat clutched again—it had been such an emotional night. "Thank you, sweetheart."

  "I'll hang it above her pallet," White Hawk said. "Now will you go to bed, Shala?"

  With a pleased grin, the girl disappeared behind the screen.

  Still clutching the dream catcher, Lily listened to sounds of clothing being shed, blankets rustling, the faint creaks of slats as Shala settled down. She knew she was grinning like a fool, and White Hawk’s cryptic stare made her uneasy.

  "It was sweet of her," she said, feeling a sudden need to explain her smile.

  "Shala has a loving nature—Here, let me wrap your feet." He sat on the pallet and applied soaked leaves. "Do not abuse it."

  "My foot?" Lily asked, knowing full well what he meant.

  Without answering, White Hawk picked up a roll of gauze, let a length fall free, and sliced it with his knife. He sheathed the blade, then picked up her foot and began deftly wrapping it.

  "Don't abuse her loving nature."

  "I'd never hurt her, White Hawk."

  He finished with her foot and secured the loose end, taking obvious care not to cause her further pain, then started on the other foot. When he finished, he took the supplies back to the table, then returned with a comb.

  "I'm going to try to get the burrs out of your hair. Sit up, if you will."

  Lily had frequently heard the Dawn People add that phrase to their requests and had assumed it was their version of "please," but White Hawk had never shown her that respect before.

  He was grateful, she thought, only grateful. And in his gratitude he was probably trying to make up for his earlier treatment. So, as he pulled the comb through her tangled hair, mindful not to tug too hard and occasionally tossing a burr or twig in a basket, she simply allowed him to make this small amends.

  He paused suddenly. "I don't know why," he said brusquely, "but I believe you."

  Lily's breath caught. "About Shala?"

  "Yes, about Shala."

  He returned to tending her hair. When he finished, he told her she'd do well to rest, then covered her with a blanket and went behind another screen. As Lily snuggled deeper into the soft mattress, she thought of how she'd accompanied White Hawk to the canyon only because she had no place else to go and Sebastian was on her heels. Now, in one roller-coaster night, everything had changed. A woman she admired had shown her both respect and kindness. A child she loved, loved her in return.

  And a man who once scorned her like a worthless beast was treating her like a woman.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lily woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. She'd dreamed of cool meadows, laughing children, a strong and steady man standing by her side looking at her with love. She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was sunlight reflecting off the crystals in the dream catcher above her bed. White Hawk's last act before retiring had been to hang it.

  Still smiling, she stretched, luxuriating in the relaxing aftermath of her night of sleep. She arched her back, wiggled her fingers, wiggled her toes. It felt good to be alive.

  Even her feet felt good, although they should be throbbing, especially after the workout she'd just put her toes through.

  So why weren’t they?

  She sprang upright, not quite so happy anymore.

  Bending, she began unwinding the bandage on one foot. The gauze fell away, taking most of the poultice with it. Flakes of the mud pack appeared on the bedclothes, and she brushed them away fretfully, not wanting to look. Finally, the last speck of mud disposed of, she gave a tentative glance at the unbandaged foot.

  Her skin was pink and healthy. The punctures left by the pine needle had vanished. Not a scratch or bruise remained. Lily touched her face, searching for signs of the many scra
tches made by tree branches the previous night. The skin was smooth, unbroken.

  A sound rose from her belly as she ripped the gauze from the other foot, already knowing what she'd find. It too was fully healed.

  Dear God, she must have alchemized in her sleep! When she'd found Tony in the forest and realized hair no longer covered her skin, she'd wanted to believe that Sebastian's jerky, interrupted ceremony had failed. But the only explanation for her instant healing was that it had succeeded. Clutching the bloodstained gauze to her chest, she started rocking on the bed.

  This can't be happening. Please, God, she begged, this can't be happening. Not now. Now when–

  "Are you okay, Lily?"

  Startled, Lily dropped the bandages and spun her head to see Shala frowning with worry in the open doorway. When Lily didn't answer right away, the girl ran to her side. "What's wrong?" she asked fretfully.

  Involuntarily, Lily's eyes moved to her bare feet.

  "Oh, Lily!" Shala exclaimed. "Look. The healing's worked already!" A proud smile lit up her face. "I'm not supposed to brag, but Papa and Star Dancer are very powerful shamans."

  "Of course! The healing!"

  Shala wrinkled her nose. "What else did you think it was, silly?"

  Lily broke into peals of laughter. Finally Shala asked her what was so funny.

  Lily shook her head. "I don't know, sweetheart," she replied through ebbing bursts of chuckles. "My . . . my mind's still foggy . . . from sleeping so long." She looked out the open door. "What time is it?"

  "The sun is in the middle sky, long past the morning meal. Are you well enough to get up?"

  "Yes. I'm very well." Another small chuckle erupted. "You don't know how well. Although I would dearly love a trip to the woman's pool."

  "After we eat, if you will. We're having roasted buffalo, and there's still some left at Kessa's fire. She's the best cook in the village, so we must hurry before it's all gone."

  "Buffalo?" Lily asked as she climbed off the pallet. "I don't remember buffalo in the canyon."

  "It came from–" Shala's eyes widened. "I'm not supposed to tell."

  "Tell what?" She suspected the information had something to do with the bustling activity surrounding the canyon by the pueblos.

  "Papa will be angry." Shala bit her lower lip. "But not anymore; I think." Taking a resolute breath, she blurted out, "The warriors brought it back from Quakahla."

  "Does this mean I'm finally going to learn what Quakahla is?" Lily smiled as she asked, not really caring. She'd just awoken from a living nightmare, and all other mysteries seemed mundane in comparison.

  Shala paused uncertainly, then squared her small shoulders. "You're one of us now, and you should know. Quakahla is the true home of the Dawn People. When the dark moon rises we will all return–" She whirled around, obviously frustrated.

  "What is it, sweetheart?"

  Troubled blue eyes stared up at Lily. "I don't want to go! I want to see the mechanical world, the moving pictures, and the Disney lands. The great fish at the world by the sea. Maybe go to a Mall, except I don't even know what that is." She gave out a little hiccup. "Won't you take me?”

  "And leave your father?"

  "Papa." Shala plopped down on the pallet. "No, I can't leave Papa.” Then, forlornly, "I guess I never will see the mechanical world."

  "You're not missing much, truly you aren't," Lily assured her as she slipped on her sandals. She nodded at a pile on a nearby chair. "How did my clothes get here?"

  "I fetched them for you."

  "You're so good to me."

  Shala bounced off the pallet and gave Lily a fierce hug. "I love you."

  "Not as much as I love you." Lily could barely keep the tremor of emotion from her voice.

  "Oh yes I do, even more."

  "Impossible." Lily gave the girl a kiss on the forehead. "Now, about that buffalo. You think there will be any left?"

  "We'd better hurry."

  Lily agreed and slipped behind a screen to change, then took Shala's hand and walked with her toward the village center. As they approached Kessa's hearth, she noticed a crowd gathering. Probably a council to discuss the werewolf threat, Lily thought, having no expectations that their attitude toward her would change as much as White Hawk and Shala's had.

  But as they got nearer she saw everyone was staring at her. She lifted her chin a notch higher, only half aware that her grip on Shala's hand had tightened.

  Suddenly a cheer filled the village. Arms upraised, fists pumping, they began chanting, "Lily! Lily! Lily!"

  Kessa was there, smiling and holding little Joey, surrounded by her entire family. And the gossipy women from the bathing pool, the boy Ravenheart had yelled at, Gerard and his brave grandson. Even old Frieda leaned on her cane, revealing her dark teeth with a wide smile. The whole village had shown up, it seemed.

  Lily stared in astonishment, still not quite comprehending that they were cheering for her. At her side, Shala grinned so wide the remainder of her face almost disappeared.

  "Did you know about this?" Lily asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

  Shala bobbed her head. "That's why I told you to hurry."

  "B-but . . . why?"

  "A tribute," Shala replied. "For fighting the werewolves."

  White Hawk stepped from the crowd, looking almost as bemused as Lily felt, and took Shala's hand, then draped an arm around Lily's shoulder. She sensed hesitation in him, but his touch felt reassuring nonetheless.

  Then Star Dancer came forward, carrying an object. As she got closer, Lily saw an exquisitely braided thong from which hung a perfectly faceted spear of quartz crystal.

  "In honor of your bravery, Lily." Star Dancer dropped the necklace over her head.

  Lily thanked her, then whispered, "Does this mean I don't have to face the Tribunal?"

  "That is beyond our power to change. It is already done."

  "I see." Lily's hand drifted to the crystal and rested there. Star Dancer's eyes followed the movement.

  "The gem may help you endure," she said, then turned toward the crowd, cutting off the possibility of any further questions.

  The villagers cheered again, repeating Lily's name, calling her the werewolf slayer, which wasn't true, of course. Then White Hawk took her elbow, guided her to Kessa's fire, and sat beside her. Shala took a seat on her other side. Someone brought food.

  Her thoughts and emotions were a jumble when she took the offered plate. She looked at White Hawk. "I don't understand . . ." She made a circular gesture, taking in the entire scene.

  "This is to celebrate your help in returning Shala. We value every one of our members and to save even one life is considered a noble act."

  "How do they know?"

  "I told them." His tone suggested he'd done it from duty, but Lily sensed qualities she'd felt from him with increasing frequency—tenderness, protectiveness—and many more she was afraid to hope for.

  Then people milled around, patting her shoulders, saying appreciative words. More food was offered. Thanks were given to Grandfather Sky for sending Lily to them.

  What a crazy world, she thought, biting into the buffalo steak, which tasted more delicious than anything she'd ever eaten. This was the best and worst day of her entire life. She'd' finally earned what she'd always dreamed of—acceptance from a loving people.

  Yet they were still going to execute her.

  Later, Kessa brought Lily a piece of fresh fry bread dusted with powdered sugar. "I know it's your favorite," she said.

  Then she joined the others. As if on cue, people began drifting toward the longhouse. White Hawk excused himself, taking Shala's hand and walking toward the crowd. The celebratory mood popped as quickly as if someone had pricked a balloon.

  Star Dancer stood at the threshold of the building, and White Hawk took a place beside her. Soon a low murmur ran through the crowd. A prayer, Lily realized, spoken in a mixture of English and their native language. She heard invocations to Grandfather Sky and Moth
er Earth. Arlan Ravenheart's name was mentioned several times.

  So White Hawk had also relayed the young warrior's fate. Lily felt a moment's sadness. Ravenheart's ambition had either ended his days or cursed him for the length of several lifetimes. But she found herself unable to condemn him. She knew too well the lure of the werewolf powers.

  The group began to disperse. Some headed toward the fields, some to the pastures. Still others bustled toward the cleft in the canyon wall. Remembering what Shala had told her, Lily assumed they were preparing for Quakahla.

  The event would happen on the dark moon rising. She'd been so overcome by relief when Shala first mentioned it she'd given little thought to the importance of the girl's words. Now she remembered why she'd felt this year's fall equinox held unusual significance. It would be accompanied by a total eclipse of the moon.

  Eclipses held great import in astrology. This one obviously heralded the end of an era for the Dawn People. And that day wasn't far away. By her markings outside her quarters, the date was September twentieth. The equinox would occur on the twenty-third.

  Where was Quakahla? she wondered. In another deeper, better hidden region of Ebony Canyon, or someplace quite distant? She couldn't blame the People for retreating. She'd heard the sounds of encroachment herself, although she'd been in the village but a short time. Hikers and campers were becoming ever more frequent in the once remote Ebony Canyon.

  Would the Tribunal convene before their migration? The thought made her uneasy, and soon she felt immensely sad. These people had feted and fed her, yet even this would not stop her from being judged—and probably executed. She didn't deserve this. Sebastian had made her a werewolf, and she'd been true to her nature. The People's stories about White Wolf Woman showed they understood that this was so.

  Why didn't they adhere to their own beliefs? Why did they seek revenge for acts she'd committed while she was something other than what she now was?

  These charming people were hypocrites! They spoke from both sides of their mouths! Hadn't they slain the buffalo she'd just eaten with the same indifference that she'd once slain mortals? Although she vaguely recalled their custom of honoring the spirit of their fallen prey, she brushed the memory away. This was unfair! Unjust! Who did they think they were, sitting in judgment of her?