He remained pensive during their walk to the village. At first Lily tried to tell him about her dream, wanting to share and get his feedback on what it might mean. But he responded so halfheartedly she finally gave up.
Even though the river trail was more protected than the higher ground, the desert's riparian washes channeled water across it in several places. On one occasion, Tony carried her. She laughed and called him gallant, but he only smiled weakly as he put her down.
What was wrong with him? For some reason, the question brought to mind the man with the golden crown who'd told her she had one more task before she was redeemed.
She glanced at Tony, who looked very morose as he resettled the pack on his back.
"What's bothering you, Tony?"
"Nothing." He wiped the troubled expression off his face before looking at her. Although he'd kept his thoughts guarded up until then, she got a sudden quick flash of what was on his mind and all her self-deception vanished.
"It wasn't a dream, was it?"
"No, Lily, it wasn't."
She caught a second thought from him, which reminded her of what day it was. Suddenly, she understood his urgency.
"Tonight's the eclipse of the moon," she said. "Does my final task have something to do with that?"
His face remained impassive, but his mournful eyes told her he knew what lay ahead even before he nodded. "But it isn't time to tell you about it." He sighed, no longer bothering to hide his distress. "The Stone People advised me to withhold that information until we meet with Star Dancer."
"But—"
"You'll have to wait." His voice rose with urgency. "When . . . when we made love, although I was your advocate, I defied a taboo. You almost died in there, Lily. By all that's sacred, you stopped breathing!" He stepped close, took her shoulders, and stared into her eyes. "I won't take that chance again."
His thoughts were no longer shielded. She heard words of love running beneath his spoken ones, felt his relief, his guilt. But there was something else, something he refused to bring to the surface and would not share with her.
But she could ease some of his guilt.
"No," she said. "I wasn't dying. I was simply visiting heaven."
"It looked like death to me!" His grip on her shoulder tightened almost painfully. "I've already lost one woman I loved! I will not lose another!"
She'd caused him so much pain by permitting his wife to die, and now she felt the full weight of it. She might as well have killed Tajaya herself.
One last task to redeem herself. If that was the case, she'd complete it, no matter if it took her life, which Tony's agonized face told her it might.
"But you have to risk losing me anyway, don't you, Tony?"
He nodded sadly. "And I refuse to do anything else to increase that risk.”
* * *
"We must go tonight, Lord," Arlan Ravenheart said fervently. "The dark moon rises."
"Bah!" Sebastian sat on a wooden spindle chair, drumming his fingers against its splitting back. "The dark moon is of no concern to me. But my pack is." He waved his hand at four wolves, who licked their wounds atop the rotting rug. "We lost two of our number to that hideous bear, and some enchantment keeps the others from alchemizing. We must give them time to heal."
"But—"
"No! I will listen to no more of this drivel. Can you not see the others need time?"
Sebastian's roar made the four wolves cringe. Beryl and Philippe moved a greater distance away. The show of temper also gave Ravenheart pause, but he alone knew time was critical. He pressed his case. "We cannot wait, Lord. After tonight, it will be too late. The people will be gone, taking Lily with them."
"What?" Sebastian leaped from the chair. "Gone? Where?"
"To Quakahla."
"Then we shall follow them."
"None can enter Quakahla after the dark moon passes."
The werewolf king stroked his muzzle and strode around the cave. He glanced once or twice at his wounded followers, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
"Something's happened to my pack of wolflings," he mumbled, almost to himself. "Too seldom do they change into human form these days. Nay, not even into man-wolf. They become more beastlike with each passing hour."
He circled the room several times, growing more beastlike himself with every turn. He growled, he snarled, he whipped his tail in agitation. Finally he looked at Ravenheart.
"Very well. If the others have not mended before sunset, you, Beryl, Philippe, and I shall go to the village. I will not suffer Lily to escape. If I need to travel to the earth's ends to find her, I vow to do so. She will know my wrath and beg for death before I finish with her!"
One of the wolves on the rug whimpered. Beryl and Philippe exchanged worried glances.
Ravenheart saw only a failing king and toyed briefly with the idea of taking his place. But Quakahla beckoned, promising glories far above that of commanding a pack of sniveling cur, so he simply smiled at Sebastian and said, "Wise as always, Lord."
"Ah, Arlan, you remind me so of—" He stepped to Ravenheart's side and put a fatherly arm around his shoulder. "I weary of toadies." This was accompanied by a quick glance at Beryl and Philippe, lowering of the voice. "When Lily is recovered, the shaman shall be yours to slay."
Ravenheart smiled with satisfaction and ignored Beryl's threatening glare. The dark moon was upon them. The destiny promised by Walking Wolf would soon be his.
King of Quakahla. He could not wait.
* * *
"Papa! Lily!" Shala cried, throwing herself into Tony's waiting arms. "Terrible things have happened. Werewolves attacked last night. The warriors fought them off but now we're almost out of the smelling salts, and . . . and, oh, poor Frieda."
"Frieda," Lily asked in alarm.
"They found"—Shala's voice choked—"they found her walking stick inside the maze! Warriors are out searching for her re-re-remains! I was afraid they got you too!"
While Tony comforted Shala, Lily stared at the chaos surrounding them. Although the sky was still thick with clouds, it provided a glimpse of the sun that told her night was rapidly approaching. The rain had stopped for the time being, giving the people respite as they herded pigs, goat, and sheep into a hastily constructed pen beside the canyon that led to the cave. Gerard passed, shooing along several goats. When he saw Tony, he said that Star Dancer wanted to see him.
"Can you stay with Lily?" he asked his daughter.
"Yes," Shala replied weepily. "But don't be long, okay?"
"Okay." Then Tony took off for the longhouse.
Kessa sobbed by her fire, surrounded by other women, some of whom were also crying. Holding Shala's hand, Lily went to Kessa's side.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Kessa stared up, tears streaking down her face. "What if no one ever finds her body? All Grandmother ever wanted was to f-finish her years in Quakahla and have her ashes scattered there. N-Now she n-never will."
Lily sat down beside her, only half aware the other women had deferentially stepped aside for her. She embraced Kessa until her tears subsided.
Then Gerard approached, an urgent expression on his face. "Star Dancer needs to see you, Lily. It's very important."
Again telling Kessa she was sorry, and leaving Shala with her, Lily followed Gerard. He was hurrying toward the longhouse at a pace that belied his age, and she didn't catch up until he'd reached the longhouse door. He opened it for her, but after she went through the door, it started to close. She stopped, peering out. "Aren't you coming in?"
Gerard shook his head. "This is between you, Tony, and Riva."
Both the urgency and the secrecy alarmed Lily. She let the door fall shut and turned apprehensively to the center of the room. Tony and Star Dancer were sitting on the dais, obviously waiting for her. Lily's alarm turned to annoyance.
"Frieda is probably dead," she scolded as she approached. "Half the village is looking for her and the other half is in mourning. Why are you two just si
tting here?"
Star Dancer laughed.
"It's not funny. These are perilous times. Obviously the werewolves found their way through the maze despite your efforts. Something must be done."
The High Shaman patted a spot on the sheepskin that faced both her and Tony. "Sit," she said. Still smiling, she turned to Tony. "Already she feels the urgency of her new role."
"What are you talking about?" Lily lowered herself gracefully to the floor, landing in a cross-legged position.
Star Dancer's amusement faded. "More serious matters, Lily. Tony was guided to keep this from you, but we have talked long about it and have come to an agreement. You should be told."
Told what? Lily wondered, but kept her peace.
"For a thousand years," Star Dancer began, "the Dawn People have passed down the legends of Quakahla. After many generations some no longer believed they were actually prophesies." At Tony's sharp glance, she looked over. "No, you weren't the only one. Many of the council privately shared your views."
Star Dancer paused to light some incense, then returned her gaze to Lily. "Skepticism vanished on the last full moon when the gates opened inside the cave. You have seen the cave, haven't you?"
Lily nodded.
"The gate is a doorway into a different reality, another dimension if you will, where buffalo still roam and corn grows high and wild in the meadows. No Europeans have ever seen that land. The confirmation of this legend tells us that the other legends are also true. You've been told of White Wolf Woman?"
Lily knew Star Dancer was aware she had, but nodded anyway.
"And these changes in your body? The ones that made you fear you were again a werewolf. What of them?"
Now Lily was on uncertain ground. Clearly Tony had told his teacher what he'd seen on the rim above the Clearing of the Black Hands. But what did it have to do with their legends?
"I, uh, I know I'm not a werewolf. After . . . well, I poured holy water on my hands and felt no pain, so I'm sure– What am I?"
Star Dancer and Tony simultaneously said, "White Wolf Woman."
"What? No." Lily shook her head vehemently. "I'm not. I can't be."
Two pair of golden eyes regarded her calmly. The silence grew, and in it Lily scanned the stories she'd been told, the most recent one from Tony beside the river. Her confusion and denial changed to dismay.
"You're sending me out to fight the werewolves." It wasn't a question.
"Not exactly, Lily." Star Dancer leaned and touched Lily's clenched hands. "That's what Tony and I have been discussing. He rather heatedly argued that we aren't Four Leggeds and should be expected to show more compassion than they. Regardless of the counsel he received from the Stone People, he believes you should be given a choice."
"About what?"
"The legends say that on the night of the dark moon rising, the beasts will try to stop us from passing through the gate. White Wolf Woman shall rise up, filled with glorious light, and hold them back. Thus the Dawn People will return to their true home." Star Dancer paused. "But it is not already done, Lily. The beasts have arrived, but the outcome of our passing remains a mystery."
Lily looked down at her hands, which were still covered by Star Dancer's. "Unless I play my role?"
"Even then. There are no guarantees you'll be successful. That's why we've decided to inform you of what is to come. You don't have to participate."
"It's your choice," Tony added. She sensed his mixed emotions. Fear for her, fear for his people, uncertainty about her response and his knowledge that he'd stay behind and fight even if she chose not to.
"You can leave by the escape route you so cleverly found," Star Dancer added. "We'll give you food, water, warm clothing. You'll be gone before the beasts arrive."
Gone? Where would she go? She had no other home. And the very idea of leaving Tony and Shala was abhorrent. As she was about to say she really didn't have a choice, Star Dancer asked, "You want to come to Quakahla with us?"
"Everyone I love will be there," Lily replied, nodding her head. "There's nothing for me in this world."
"Then you must know this." A sheen formed on Star Dancer's eyes, alarming Lily, and she leaned closer, wanting to know, but terribly afraid.
"The legends say that The People honored White Wolf Woman for a thousand years. But nothing tells us whether she lived in Quakahla or even if she survived the battle with the wolves."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lily left the longhouse with Tony, armed with advice to mull over their discussion before making a decision. They circled the village several times, with Tony continuously urging her to leave. Eventually Lily threw up her hands and demanded that he stop.
Saying she needed time to think and would meet him in an hour, she went back to her quarters to wash off the grime, change into dry clothes, and get rid of the chafing boots. Although her feet were cold, at least the leather of her sandals didn't bind.
She hung the deerskin dress on a rail attached to the washing table, smoothing it out lovingly and wondering if she'd ever see it again. Then she faced the fear that troubled her most. She'd been unable to shapeshift when Sebastian captured her. Had she lost the power?
Trembling slightly, she willed herself to change. It came instantly. Heaving a relieved sigh, she again stared in awe at the filament-like hair that covered her body. A human body, though, with its rounded fingernails and teeth. What possible threat could such a mortal form pose to Sebastian?
At the sound of Tony's voice, she willed herself back to normal, put on her rain cape and walked toward the closed curtain.
"Your hour's up." Tony looked impatient. He'd washed also, she noticed, but his face looked gray and grim. "Let's walk by the river," he suggested, taking hold of her arm in a way that made her think he wouldn't let her refuse. He wanted to talk privately, she supposed. But what was there to talk about? Everything she valued was going to a new dimension that night—Tony, Shala, Star Dancer, and all the other people who had finally come to accept her. When they vanished, nothing remained for her except the prospect of running from Sebastian the rest of her life.
After descending the ladder, Lily let Tony guide her toward the river, deep in thought again. What was she to do with this new role? Was she supposed to kill Sebastian and his pack? How? A skunk had its scent, a porcupine its quills, deer and elk their antlers and hooves, but her alchemized form had no claws or fangs. And her failure to shapeshift when Sebastian swept her into the forest had shaken her faith in her abilities. What if—
Almost as if she'd asked the question aloud, Tony began talking. "In case you decide to stay . . . Well, you'll find you have abilities you never suspected."
Lily looked up at him sharply.
"You will, honest," he said.
"How did you know what I was thinking?"
He tapped the side of his head and smiled mysteriously. A small smile to be sure, but it made Lily feel somewhat better. "Actually," he admitted, "it was a no-brainer. What else would you be thinking at a time like this?"
"You know I couldn't alchemize when Sebastian had me?"
"When you didn't, I figured as much." He paused, draped an arm over her shoulder, and turned to a path that went past the women's pool then on to the river. "But you were in the middle of the inquisition, which sapped your strength. And you have the crystal. Keep it with you. Use it."
"Something about it . . ." She felt bemused. "It almost has the same effects as holy water."
"Only when it's in your possession. For anyone else it's just a crystal."
She touched the stone. The now-familiar thrum emanated from its clear depths, but she still felt unarmed. So many people depended on her. How could she do it all? Again Tony seemed to read her thoughts.
"I'll be with you. And warriors will guard the tribespeople during the exodus. We'll only have to contend with the werewolves." He cleared his throat. "About the bear . . ."
He fidgeted, an uncharacteristic behavior for a shaman, and Lily look
ed up at him.
"Well, it . . . it was me."
"You're becoming quite the shapeshifter." She tried to sound light, but failed miserably.
"I don't know if I can do it again." He gave a bleak smile. "We sure can't count on it."
They exchanged wan expressions, then Lily glanced away, realizing they were finally alone. Now feeling fidgety herself, she asked the question heavy on her mind.
"Do the stories say you and Shala live in Quakahla?"
He stopped and brought her into the circle of his arms, the plastic capes rustling as their bodies touched. She rested her chin on his chest, waiting for his answer.
"There are . . . so many factors to consider. I'm a shaman and warrior, a leader in the tribe. Riva is Shala's grandmother, and Shala has her own destiny as a shaman. With Ravenheart lost, there aren't many among the young ones who have chosen the shaman's way. The Dawn People need me. They need Shala."
"You don't have to go?" She couldn't quell the excitement in her voice.
"I have free will."
"Then stay! I don't want you to leave, Tony. Shala doesn't want to go. Hasn't she told you that?"
He smiled grimly. "She is only now entering her seventh winter. That's too young to make such far-reaching decisions."
"What about her free will?"
He answered with a frown, and she let her gaze drift to the cattails swaying in the river. A new drizzle was starting. Drops collected on the leaves, falling into the river to ripple in every direction, merging with one another to create new patterns, just as her earlier acts had done. This decision facing her would cause ripples too.
"Is loving me one of the factors?"
"Oh yes, my darling, the biggest one, and it's tearing me apart."
He kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger, wanting to crush her to him and never let go. She trembled slightly, and he put a hand under her chin, lifting it to gaze into her dark slanted eyes. They shone with angry, distraught tears.
"Why can't I go too?" Her voice was husky.
So was his. "I don't really know. The stories only say that Wolf and Bear get separated in battle. After a futile search, Bear crosses alone. The Dawn People return to their true home and tell the White Wolf Woman legends each time the dark moon rises."
Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set Page 50