Charmed

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Charmed Page 22

by Catherine Hart


  . . . until he smiled, his teeth gleaming out at her from that blue face. Nikki couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Omigod!” she giggled. “You look like a cross between a Mighty Power Ranger and a giant Smurf!”

  He frowned at her, not quite sure what to make of her comment. “I am not certain, but I think I would rather be a powerful ranger than a smurf, whatever that is.”

  “I take it back. On second thought, you look like my mother giving herself a facial!” Nikki whooped gleefully.

  “I can tell you are allotting this the solemnity it merits,” he chided.

  Nikki sobered, suddenly reminded of the import of today’s contest. “I’m sorry, Thorn. You are correct. It is not a laughing matter. And I must admit, now that I’m becoming more accustomed to it, that you do look rather dashing and fearsome. That is, I suppose, your intent. To intimidate your opponent.”

  “That, and to honor the Spirits as they bestow upon me their might and magic. I shall need all the aid they can grant me today if I hope to defeat Tecumseh.”

  “I have faith in you, Thorn,” she told him honestly. “Even he, at his most powerful, did not bring forth a messenger from the future. Only you performed that impossible feat.”

  Tecumseh, too, had enhanced his image for the event. In keeping with his personal symbol, the panther, Tecumseh’s body was painted entirely black, except for his chest. It was stark white, with a black panther’s head in bold relief. Also white were the tips of his fingers decorated so that they resembled a cat’s claws. His teeth gleamed from his darkened face like sharp animal fangs. Truly, he did look savage.

  Tecumseh greeted his guests and informed Nikki that he had arranged for one of his trusted lieutenants to watch over her during the contest. “Unfortunately, Tenskwatawa has inflamed a few of the more superstitious members of the tribe. I will feel better knowing that you are well guarded while Silver Thorn and I are otherwise occupied.”

  The meet was to take place in a large, tree-ringed clearing not far from the camp. Tecumseh’s lieutenant led Nikki to a place near the panel of judges where she would have an unrestricted view of the proceedings. Already, the clearing was girded by excited spectators, among them Tenskwatawa and his cohorts.

  The pounding of a drum announced the start of the match, as well as signaling the crowd to silence. Everyone seemed to respect that the two contestants would need immense concentration in order to summon their vast powers. So quiet did they become that Nikki could hear the leaves rustling in the trees many yards away.

  There were to be five individual divisions to the contest, each comprised of a pair of feats, one by each of the participants. Each segment would be judged apart from the others. The first man to win three of the five bouts would be declared the winner. A painted stone, tossed into the air, constituted the equivalent of a coin toss. Tecumseh won and elected to go first.

  He walked to the center of the clearing, raised his arms high, and began to chant. As one, the crowd held its breath. They did not have to wait long. Within the span of a minute, a dozen huge trees encircling the makeshift arena toppled in succession, all at spaced intervals.

  The onlookers murmured in wonder, nodding their heads in hushed approval.

  Then Silver Thorn stepped forward. He stood with his eyes closed and his arms held slightly away from his sides, palms out, as if in prayer. He held this stance as all twelve trees raised and replanted themselves in the very spots from which they fell.

  The throng exclaimed softly in unison. Nikki gaped in mute awe. The judges awarded the first bout to Silver Thorn.

  As winner of the initial event, Silver Thorn was obliged to perform first in the second. Quickly, he made a few motions with his hands, as if gathering or calling something. Within seconds, the clearing was literally crawling with grasshoppers.

  Immediately, Tecumseh took his place. Almost instantly, a legion of frogs appeared, feasting on the grasshoppers.

  In the midst of this, Tenskwatawa decided to inject a bit of his own magic, a trick many had seen him do before, but this time on a grander scale. With a yell, he threw down his walking stick. As it struck the ground, it was transformed into a nest of writhing rattlesnakes. The snakes slithered off into the mass of frogs and bugs, striking randomly. Suddenly the rattlers regrouped and headed en masse toward Nikki. Before anyone could do anything to stop them, they had formed a circle around her and her befuddled guard and were coiling to strike.

  Nikki’s heart thudded violently, sending blood pounding into her brain. Her vision began to dim, and she feared she was about to faint. To do so would be disastrous, for she would surely fall across the line of venomous snakes, riling them even more.

  From a distance, past the tinny ringing in her ears and the fearful rattling of the snakes, she heard Silver Thorn say, “Do not move, Neeake. I will take care of it. All will be well.”

  Abruptly, the snakes were gone, dispatched by Silver Thorn. Nikki slumped into Silver Thorn’s arms, barely aware of Tecumseh dispensing with the frogs and insects. Silver Thorn handed Nikki into her guard’s care once more and, with a wrathful countenance that had Nikki wincing, turned toward Tenskwatawa.

  “As soon as I have finished this contest with Tecumseh, I shall kill you, brother,” he announced direly. “Prepare your soul for judgment.”

  “No,” Tecumseh countered. “He shall die at my hand. Had I done it before, he would not have been alive to threaten your wife.”

  Tenskwatawa’s gaze swiveled from one irate brother to the other. He cowered visibly and his voice quavered as he claimed, “I wouldn’t have hurt her. I meant only to frighten her.”

  “You lie. Your tongue is as forked as that of your snakes,” Silver Thorn declared. He raised his hand and pointed it at Tenskwatawa. A bolt of light flew from his finger; and before the startled audience, the Prophet promptly froze into a short, plump, pillar of salt.

  An instant later, he transformed again, this time into a stone statue.

  Silver Thorn whirled on his oldest brother. “Tecumseh!” he roared. “Do not meddle with my magic!”

  Tecumseh laughed. “I am merely improving upon it, brother.”

  Silver Thorn grunted, pointed his finger again, and Tenskwatawa reverted to salt.

  Then to rock.

  Back to salt.

  “Enough already!” Nikki exclaimed, cutting short their battle for supremacy over Tenskwatawa’s fate. “If you just want to put him on hold until the contest is done, then install him in a stockade for safekeeping and be done with it, please. You can argue over his final fate later.”

  Evidently both men accepted her suggestion at the same time. Tenskwatawa, looking totally dazed, returned to his normal state. A rock barricade mounted swiftly around him, stone by stone, as Silver Thorn and Tecumseh worked in tandem to erect it.

  “Blasted show-offs!” Nikki muttered. “They’re worse than a couple of toddlers.”

  Beside her, the lieutenant chuckled in agreement.

  The judges’ long delayed decision gave the second match to Tecumseh, who began the third segment of the competition in spectacular fashion. As he spun slowly around, his hand outstretched, the leaves of the trees assumed their brilliant autumn colors. A breeze sent them swirling to the ground in a vibrant display, much to the delight of those watching.

  As if to compliment his brother’s feat and expand upon it, Silver Thorn promptly produced a miniature snowstorm.

  The onlookers, granted this brief but wondrous reprieve from the stifling August heat, were thoroughly enchanted.

  So were the judges, and Silver Thorn won this round handily.

  As his next accomplishment, Silver Thorn produced three ponds, fully stocked with fish that leaped playfully in the water. In the center of each pool, a water spout danced in the sun, creating a trio of dazzling rainbows. It was like watching a fairy tale come to life.

  Not to be outdone, Tecumseh sent a shower of glowing embers raining down upon the pools. As they hit the water, the
y flared into tall flames, which then frolicked atop the surface in a fiery ballet. Shortly, Tecumseh doused the flames and presented the crowd and the judges with fried fish.

  Predictably, the fourth match was his, and the contest was now tied at two apiece. Which only lent added import to the final sequence.

  Tecumseh took center stage, his face set in determined lines, his expression that of intense concentration. He stood stiffly, his hands clenched, for several minutes while the others waited in tense anticipation. With a loud shout, Tecumseh fell to his knees. As his fists pounded the ground, the earth swelled and began to tremble.

  Cries rose up from everyone as the ground rolled beneath their feet and they toppled into heaps. The earth groaned and cracked, bucking and swaying in ever-mounting waves. As suddenly as it had begun, the quaking ceased. The earth pulled itself together again, healing its gaping wounds. The stunned assembly, first speechless with awe, cheered enthusiastically. Any who had doubted, now believed without reservation that this great Shawnee leader was, indeed, capable of producing earthquakes.

  As shaken as the rest, Nikki wondered how Silver Thorn could ever top this astonishing achievement. Yet he had to if he hoped to save his beloved brother’s life.

  As Silver Thorn took his place in the center of the circle, the air fairly hummed with suspense. Arms upraised, his face turned toward the heavens, Silver Thorn spun on his heel—around and around, faster and faster, until he was but a blur. From outside the circle, over the tops of the trees, clouds began to boil forth. The wind began to howl and blow from all directions at once. Then, before their dumbfounded eyes, four separate tornadoes swept down from the clouds, swirling and weaving in place. Still suspended some distance above the earth, they suddenly swept forward, meeting directly over Silver Thorn’s head to combine into one gigantic twister. Slowly, as if savoring its intended victim, it lowered over its creator’s body, swallowing him in its spinning, grasping mouth.

  Nikki’s cry of dismay was echoed by alarmed gasps all around. The same thought reverberated through everyone’s mind. Surely, Silver Thorn was dead. No one could withstand being caught up in such a seething tempest.

  Distraught, numb with disbelief, Nikki could only stare at the spot where the cyclone still spun. Even as she watched, it dissipated and—miracle of miracles—Silver Thorn emerged as hale and whole as ever!

  The throng gaped and roared in amazement. Nikki could stand still no longer. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and threw herself into her husband’s open arms.

  “You fool!” she sobbed. “You big, reckless fool! Were you trying to kill yourself?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “Are you all right?”

  “I am unscathed, woman, but for the fact that you are choking me to death,” he teased gently.

  She thumped him on the back with her fist, her tears wetting his bare shoulder. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again! I nearly died of fright!”

  He hugged her tightly. “Would it help to know that I love you?”

  “Oh, Thorn! I love you, too!” she wailed. “Too much to ever survive losing you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Silver Thorn could not believe it. Neither could Nikki or many others who had watched the two brothers perform their duel of powers. Silver Thorn had done his best. He’d been magnificent, especially with that last feat. He’d been sure the contest was his—relieved and glad that Tecumseh would now abandon the British and perhaps live to a ripe old age. But for some undefinable reason, the judges had decided to call the final meet a tie, which rendered the entire contest merely an exercise in futility. Also, since Tecumseh was satisfied with the verdict, neither he nor the judges would sanction Silver Thorn’s request for one final, deciding bout. The ruling would stand as it was, a draw between these two sublimely skilled men.

  Which meant that Tecumseh would go on fighting, until his death. And that Silver Thorn was free to keep plaguing him to stop. It also meant that, in order to do so, Silver Thorn would have to remain at Tecumseh’s side, also involving himself in the war and its inherent dangers.

  That presented yet another problem. While Silver Thorn was perfectly willing to risk his own neck to save his brother’s, he was not willing to risk Neeake’s as well, or that of their child. Nor could he leave her behind or feel comfortable returning her to Wapakoneta to the care of her uncle and other relatives. Not since Tenskwatawa had escaped his stone stockade.

  Evidently, when Tecumseh had created the earthquake, the stones and earth forming the prison had shifted, far enough and just long enough for Tenskwatawa to wriggle to freedom. Then Tecumseh had restored the earth to normal, and all had seemed as it was. In the excitement of the moment, no one had noticed the Prophet fleeing, no one except his comrades. They, too, had fled the village, and heaven only knew where they had gone.

  To add to the confusion, eight warriors from Black Hoof’s village had arrived just after the competition. Their mission was to rescue Neeake and Silver Thorn and to bring Tenskwatawa back to Wapakoneta to stand trial. Half of them immediately went in search of the missing Prophet. The other four remained in camp to help guard Neeake and provide additional escort for her and Silver Thorn on their return trip to Wapakoneta.

  Silver Thorn wasn’t sure they would be returning to the village, however. He’d already concluded that, while Tenskwatawa was on the loose and undoubtedly bent on revenge, he could not leave Neeake where his evil brother could find her. Nor could he keep her with him if he meant to follow Tecumseh. Which left but one logical alternative. He must send her back to her home, to her own time, at least until he could resolve these pressing issues that would require all his attention for the next few months.

  Neeake was not going to like being parted from him, he knew. Likely, she would throw a fit to rival the witch she was purported to be. But it must be done—soon. And the sooner he informed her of his decision, the better.

  Silver Thorn found Nikki in the lodge rifling through her purse. She looked up with a disgruntled expression and waved a bit of paper at him. “Look what I just found. Lottery tickets! Wouldn’t it be ironic if I were holding the winning numbers to an eight-million-dollar prize and have absolutely no way to collect it? Talk about lousy luck! Maybe I should include them with that letter to my parents. That way, if they really are worth anything, Mom and Dad could claim the money.” Her face grew more concerned. “In all the recent confusion, I forgot we never got to send my message to my parents. Is there any way we can go back there soon? I’m afraid if we wait too long, Dad will have the tree cut and cleared and our plan will go to ruin. I may never have another chance like this.”

  “There is no need,” he informed her flatly. “You can present your explanation to them personally as soon as we can arrange it.”

  Her frown deepened. “What? What are you talking about, Thorn? How?”

  “I am sending you back, Neeake, back to your time, if it is possible to do so. There are several ways that might work. We shall begin trying them immediately.”

  The color drained from her face, and for several seconds all she could do was stare at him in stupefaction. She felt as if she’d just been slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer. Was this cold, stiff stranger the same man who just a few hours ago had told her he loved her? And now, suddenly, he was stating very matter-of-factly that he was sending her away? “Wh . . . why?” she stammered. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

  “No. I cannot. I must stay until this matter with Tecumseh is resolved, one way or another. If the worst comes to pass, I have pledged to bury him. I cannot leave here until my obligations to him are fulfilled. Also, I must see to the welfare of my mother and sister. As I have told you, they are now with the Cherokee. After what you have told us of this Trail of Tears, I must take them to a more secure place. If Tecumseh is not here to care for them, then I must make certain that they will be properly looked after, that they have all that is sufficient for their needs.”

  “I
understand that. It is what any responsible son would do, but what has that got to do with sending me back to my era? Why can’t I stay here and go with you? Or wait for you at Wapak? Or . . . or maybe you’ve just decided you don’t want me anymore,” she suggested. She gulped back a sob, but the tears still rose to her eyes, making them shimmer like violet pools. “Is that it, Thorn? You’ve had your fun, and now you’re tired of me?”

  He dropped to his knees before her, his expression now as miserable as hers, and took her face in his hands. “Never. You are my one love, my only love. It rends my heart to think of being separated from you, if only for a short while.”

  “Then . . . then why? Explain to me why you want me to go.”

  “Because I cannot devote myself to you and to Tecumseh at the same time, my pet. I cannot . . . I will not place you in the path of danger any more than necessary. Tecumseh is determined to continue on his course of destruction. The battlefield, the center of a war, is no safe place for you and our babe.”

  Nikki nodded, the action sending two fat tears coursing down her cheeks. “I understand that much, but why can’t I go back to Wapak and stay there with Black Hoof and Konah? In two months, at most, you will have fulfilled your pledge to Tecumseh. Then you can come and get me and we’ll go together to find your mother. I’m looking forward to meeting her, anyway. We’ll escort them to Texas, where some of the others have already gone. Or to Mexico. I recall that the Indians who relocated there were accepted much more readily and lived better lives than those who remained in the United States. You and I could live there, too. I wouldn’t mind, as long as we could be together.”

 

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