Firewalker

by Allyson James

  Another flash, and a man sprang from nowhere to land on his feet in front of me. He had a white and black face and a gaping red mouth, and I screamed.

  The man put his hands to either side of his face and mimed my scream back. I stopped, out of breath, and then I started to laugh.

  He was a clown, a Koshare, his mostly naked body painted with black-and-white stripes, two ridiculous black-and-white striped horns rising from his head. Koshares appeared with the Hopi kachina dancers, who dressed in elaborate costumes to act the parts of gods and spirits, except the Koshare weren’t technically kachinas because they didn’t wear masks. The dancers believed, and so did I, that the spirit of the kachina they portrayed filled them while they performed. Koshares were the clowns of the group, there to make people laugh but also to provide admonition on bad behavior through their jokes and antics.

  I wondered why one was way out here. Kachina dances usually happened in the spring, during growing season, and non-Indians were not always privileged to watch. But maybe he’d just come out here to commune with the spirits in this quiet place or to keep an eye on it.

  The Koshare jumped up and down on both feet, clutching his head and looking terrified. Then he did a cartwheel, whirled around, stuck out his backside, and broke wind. I laughed as hard as I had as a little kid, when I’d been happily innocent of storm magic, Beneath magic, dragons, and other terrifying things.

  The painted man did a backflip with enviable athleticism. His loincloth swung wide, baring everything to me, but I was the only one around to see.

  I clapped my hands like the five-year-old I’d been. “Again,” I urged him.

  The man spun on one leg, the other straight out like a dancer’s. He put his foot down in a big stomp; then he arched forward in a sudden thrust, and I stopped laughing.

  The Koshare froze, arms flung out, thrust slightly forward, exactly as Jim had done in my vision. Then, again in an identical manner, the Koshare fell to his knees and buckled onto the ground.

  I ran to where he lay unmoving, the black-and-white paint on his body now covered with dust. I crouched next to the man, unsure whether I should help him up.

  “You saw him, didn’t you? What happened?”

  The man jerked, his whole body lifting off the ground. I sprang out of the way, and he stood up, limbs stiff, looking disoriented, just as Jim had.

  The Koshare had seen Jim die and come back to life.

  “Tell me what happened,” I said.

  For answer, the man cowered away, raising his arms in a protective gesture. He looked terrified of me, eyes wide behind his paint. He backed up as I came toward him.

  “I didn’t kill him,” I said. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  He put his fingers in his mouth and mimed his teeth chattering. Then he threw open his arms and spun around, pretending to be picked up by a whirlwind and slammed to the ground. The Koshare lay there in a limp heap, the dust kicked up by his body settling onto his wide and still eyes.

  Oh, shit, he really looked dead. I ran to him again, sweat trickling down my face, and reached to check his pulse.

  A big painted hand closed over my wrist. The guy was big, his hand enveloping my arm in a hard grip. He could snap the bone anytime he wanted to.

  The Koshare pulled me up with him as he rose to his feet. He grabbed my other hand, crossed our wrists, and started pulling me around in a circle. Faster and faster we twirled, my feet dancing to keep up with him. I started to fall, but his strong hands pulled me back up. The world whirled around me, blue sky, red earth, green line of the river, pueblo ruins, empty horizon.

  “Stop it,” I panted. “I’m going to be sick.”

  He went faster, and the world spun in a blur. Panic took over. I clawed at his hands, trying to get away, but he was damn strong. He had brown eyes, Native American eyes, but he widened them so far that I started seeing only white.

  The Koshare let me go. I spun around by myself and fell hard to the dirt. He was on top of me before I could gasp for breath, pinning my wrists with his hands. I looked into his terrible white eyes, and a voice rolled through my head.

  We are watching you. We, the lords of the sky, will not let you win.

  Oh, hell, he was no longer a man in paint; he was a god, a real one. He could annihilate me with a single thought.

  As if in answer, my Beneath magic rose in me, liking the challenge. Me or a god? If I bested him, who wouldn’t bow down to me?

  His mouth opened wide, wider, as though he would devour me. I looked down a red gullet and a silent scream, and my own scream echoed across the valley.

  I heard the pounding of paws on earth, the snarl of an animal, and the Koshare rolled off me right before a hundred and more pounds of coyote hit him. The Koshare scrambled to his feet and started running, moving in a comical lope with knees up and feet out. Coyote chased him, and the Koshare sprinted away, limbs flying.

  The Koshare and Coyote disappeared under the trees that lined the river, while I sat, my arms around my knees, trying to catch my breath.

  After a few minutes, Coyote trotted back alone and flopped to the ground next to me, panting. Earlier today, he’d threatened my life, but right now I was glad to see him. I threw my arms around his neck, sinking my face into his rough coat. He smelled like sunshine and dust, warm and comforting.

  They will do it, Coyote’s voice said in my head. But not until I permit it.

  “Thanks. I feel so much better.” I sat up and wiped my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you have fleas.”

  Coyote scratched at his side with a back foot, and his laughter rumbled through my head.

  “That Koshare witnessed Jim’s murder,” I said. “Correction, murder and resurrection. Or do you think he found Jim and brought him back to life?”

  No. The clown is harmless other than being annoying. But something evil has been here. You feel it.

  I did, though not as strongly as I had at the other murder site. “I do not need this on top of worrying about the dragons. What am I going to do about the dragons?”

  That one I can’t help you with. Dragons have their own laws, their own gods, their own hang-ups.

  “Then what good are you? You give me cryptic warnings and threaten my life, but whenever I ask for advice, you brush me off.”

  I’m Coyote. It’s what I do.

  “What you really mean is, you don’t know.”

  He chuckled. I don’t know shit about dragons; I admit it. The one you sleep with is a powerful bastard. More powerful than the dragon council wants to believe.

  “Is he? In what way?”

  Coyote ignored me—of course he did. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the trees around the river. I looked that way in alarm, and a few seconds later, the Koshare burst out of the brush, leaves flying, and started running toward the pueblo, away from us. He looked smaller somehow, and genuinely spooked.

  “He’s the man now,” I said, realizing. “The god inhabited him, but now it’s gone.”

  When the Koshare was halfway between us and the ruins, Coyote jerked his muzzle, and the back of the Koshare’s loincloth burst into flame. He ran faster, then jumped into the air and came down on his backside, bumping up and down on the ground until the fire went out.

  Coyote gave a satisfied chuckle. I’ve always hated clowns, he said.

  I walked into the hotel’s back entrance to be stopped by Mick’s strong arm barring the way down the hall. The setting sun touched his eyes, which had changed from blue to deep black.

  “Hey, Mick,” I said tiredly. I tried to duck past him, but Mick stepped in front of me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me off my feet.

  “I told you,” he said. “I won’t always let you walk away.”

  “I’m not trying to walk away. I’m trying to go take a shower.”

  Mick’s human body was twice the size of mine and about ten times as strong. He lifted me with ease and carried me through the bedroom and to the bathroom, where he set me on the floo
r and pulled off my shirt.

  “You can tell me about where the hell you’ve been while I wash you,” he said.

  “Mick...”

  He snapped on the shower to fully hot and divested me of my clothes. I didn’t resist much, because I was sweaty and mucky and wanted soap and water. Mick sat me on the lip of the tub while he tugged off my boots and socks, then my pants. Not until his big hands were pulling down my panties did I try to push him away.

  “I can do that.”

  His eyes went darker. He batted my hands out of the way and yanked my panties down over my butt. Then he pushed my legs apart and licked between my thighs, his whiskers scraping my sensitive skin.

  I leaned back, and the shower sprayed over my face. “Mick, no.”

  Mick raised his head, and the absolute rage in his eyes nearly stopped my heart. “Where were you that you got banged up like this?” He turned my wrists over, showing me bruises and abrasions.

  “Homol’ovi.”

  “What the hell were you up there for? Who were you fighting, archaeologists?”

  “Very funny. A Koshare.”

  Mick’s eyes narrowed, and I told him the story of my vision and how I’d gone up to Homol’ovi to investigate the death of Jim, despite Nash trying to confine me to town, and what had happened there. I sensed Mick’s anger grow as I spoke.

  “I second Nash’s request that you don’t leave town,” he growled when I finished. “Or even the hotel. I especially don’t want you near Colby. You went to see him.”

  “Why shouldn’t I have? I wanted answers.”

  “I don’t want you involved in this.”

  “So you want me to stand by and watch while they kill you?” I could yell just as loud as he could. “What are you going to do, Mick? Tell them to spare you because you realized I was your soul mate?”

  “Something like that.”

  “How unbelievably stupid.”

  “You let me worry about that,” Mick said.

  I hated this. Here I was sitting, naked, on the edge of my tub, while the shower streamed down behind me, arguing with a man I was both furious with and trying to keep alive. Mick, still dressed and half-wet, knelt in front of me.

  “They’re going to kill you,” I repeated. “They’ve already decided the verdict. You’ll be a sheep walking to its own slaughter.”

  “I’m not as weak as the dragons and Colby think I am. I know what Colby said he was up to, trying to defend me, but that doesn’t mean he can be trusted.”

  “And yet, he turned down the dragon council’s task of hunting me down and killing me.”

  “Because he’s a fucking coward. He likes to pretend to be rebellious, so he told the dragon council to screw themselves. But only because he didn’t have the balls to face you.”

  “And you did?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I believed that. I’d only ever seen Mick afraid once, and even then he’d laughed as he got ready to die.

  It should amuse me that all these bad-ass dragons were so afraid of me. I’d been exhausted and terrified the night Mick had met me, surprised that I could muster enough magic to fight him.

  But if they’d thought me anything like my hell-goddess mother, then they were right to be afraid. Lucky for them, I’d grown up with my grandmother, who probably could go toe-to-toe with my mother in a battle of sarcasm and strong wills. In a contest of magic, however, my grandmother wouldn’t stand a chance. Neither would Mick, or Colby, or their dragon council.

  “You said you changed your mind when you saw me fight,” I said. “When I didn’t try to kill those assholes in the bar.”

  Mick lifted me into his arms and cradled me on his lap, his jeans rough on my naked backside. “I was ready to kill you without thought. I admit that. Until I saw you standing alone against those idiots in that bar. That was the moment my world changed. You were the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.”

  “That’s why you let me live?”

  He kissed my hair, lips so gentle. “I realized that the dragon council were fools. They’re arrogant and ruled by their egos and their fear. You are astonishing, Janet. You’re something to be treasured, and I wanted to protect you for as long as you lived.”

  The hollow of his throat was right at my lips, so easy to lick. I loved the salt taste of him on my tongue. “You told me once you were afraid I’d glammed you.”

  “Damn right. I didn’t trust myself around you.” He kissed my hair again, his touch a little rougher this time.

  I was going to lose him. I knew that with certainty as a tear trickled into my mouth. Not so much from the upcoming dragon trial, but because of me and what I was.

  You can have him always, in any way you like.

  Whatever voice whispered to me, Mick didn’t hear it. He laid me down on the bathroom rug, the soft white nap tickling my back. Mick kissed me as he unfolded his big body over mine, pinning me firmly.

  He kept kissing me as he slid his hands down to my bare breasts, palms rough against them. I arched to meet him, wanting to twine around him and pull him inside. I loved his body, always warm and hard and ready for mine.

  You can make him do whatever you want, and you can make the dragons leave him alone.

  Mick licked his way to my breasts and took one dark point between his teeth. His hair fell to my skin, the curls coarse under my fingertips.

  “Mick.” I pressed up into him, and he opened his mouth over my breast.

  I was suddenly not afraid. Not of Mick, not of Colby, or the dragon council, or even Coyote. I had power to match them and to best them. I could do anything I pleased. No more hiding, no more shame about my origins. It didn’t matter. I had more power than all of them put together.

  A sudden image of the Koshare slammed into my head. His red mouth opened in his black-and-white face, and the eyes of a god burned into my brain.

  I screamed. Mick jerked his mouth from my breast and peered down at me in worry. “What is it, baby? Am I hurting you?”

  “No.” I clutched at him, my heart pounding crazily in fear. “Do me, Mick. Now. Please.” Maybe if I lost myself in sex with him, the visions and the whispers would stop.

  Mick’s answering smile ripped at my heart. He pulled off his shirt, then stood and stripped off his pants, boots, and underwear in record time. He was hard and ready, his cock dark and lifting. I sat up and took it in my mouth.

  “Damn it,” Mick groaned.

  He hadn’t seen anything yet. I slid my hand between his legs, gently playing with his balls, and stretched my mouth over him.

  Mick wasn’t quiet. He held on to the shower rod and started telling me, between noises of pleasure, all the dirty things he wanted to do with me. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, Navajo girl. Then I’m going to tie you to the bed and do it some more.”

  Fine by me. I was too tired to go anywhere, anyway.

  “Then I’m going to bend your ass over this bathtub and give you every inch of me.”

  I pretty much had every inch of him now. I played with him with my tongue and fingers for a few moments longer; then I slid my body up his, twined my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  Mick aroused was a beautiful sight. His eyes darkened to black again, his bad-boy smiles gone. I saw us in the mirror, a slim girl with black hair and a tall man with dark skin enveloping her.

  He was much bigger than I was, so it was a little like climbing a tree, but I managed to work my way into his arms, my legs around his hips. Mick held me under the buttocks, his smile shining out again as he slid himself inside me.

  I shouted as he went into me, hard and deep. He held me tightly and rocked with me, screwing me solidly right there in the bathroom. His back was to the mirror, and I watched over his shoulder as his ass moved, my eyes shining with the joy of it.

  The only problem with the erotic picture was that the gleam under my half-closed lids wasn’t my usual brown, but a light ice green.

  Mick actually did all those wond
erful things he’d promised me. Our sex life had never been conventional, not from day one.

  I woke up as the sun rose. Mick snored softly beside me, his body keeping mine warm. The air coming through the open window had a bite to it, the promise of winter.

  I drowsed, trying to summon the energy to rise and perform my morning ritual outside the back door. Every morning I scattered corn and said a prayer to the east, greeting the rising sun. It was important to me. But some days, like today, after an all-night rampage with Mick, it was difficult to get going.

  I’d almost convinced myself to move when a bright flame squirted through the door lock, followed by Colby swinging open the door.

  Mick was on his feet in an instant, all six-foot-six of him, his hands full of fire. I was covered, at least, but I glared at Colby over the blankets.

  “Don’t you knock?” I snapped.

  “I figured you’d be too busy to open the door.” Colby closed it before early-rising hotel guests could look down the hall and see me with my naked boyfriend. Mick let his fire recede, but he didn’t move.

  “What do you want?” I asked, since Mick didn’t look inclined to talk. Kill, yes; talk, no.

  “I heard from the dragon council this morning. They finally set a date for the trial—ten days from now as humans count time. Plus they told me what kind of sentence they’ll give you.” Colby looked both disturbed and slightly gleeful, a strange combination. “I’m sorry, Micky. It will be Ordeal.”

  Fourteen

  “You are damn well going to tell me what it means,” I snarled at Colby when the three of us shut ourselves in the saloon, Mick and I dressed. “What kind of ordeal?”

  “A deadly one,” Colby said. “They always are.”

  Mick seemed the least disturbed by the news. He leaned against the bar, under the magic mirror, which I knew was listening with full attention.

  “Elaborate,” I said.

  Colby shrugged. “Can’t. The Ordeal won’t be determined until we reach the trial. Even if they decide beforehand, they won’t tell us.”