Obsidian Tears (Apparition Lake Book 2)

by Daniel D. Lamoreux

  The outfitter shouted and, with his racing heart in his throat, started switch backing down the rise as fast as he was able. Even as he ran, Two Ravens knew he could not be fast enough. He was too far away to help – with no weapon to shorten the distance.

  The shrieking Nimerigar lowered the boom on Abeque.

  Or tried to. And would have murderously driven its hammer into her forehead. But, just then, with a dull thwack and a bright red arc of blood, the creature's chest exploded. And, screaming, the Nimerigar flipped backwards off the rock and out of sight atop the escarpment. From somewhere, someone, had shot the thing.

  Abeque, spattered in its blood, was frozen in place, screaming. Two Ravens, frightened out of his mind and startled out of his balance, had fallen and was tumbling boots over Stetson down the hill, hollering. The other creatures, in panic, vanished back into the ground cover, howling. And Glenn Merrill, with a victor's glint in his eyes and a sniper's rifle in his hands, rose from the boulder behind which he'd been hiding, searching the area in earnest, but wearing a quiet smile.

  The chief ranger, the Shoshone outfitter, and the Arapaho healer all arrived on the valley floor at the same time. “You're not supposed to be here,” Abeque shouted at Glenn. “You were told you couldn't come,” Two Ravens added. The ranger took the pair in, Two Ravens covered in dirt, Abeque covered in flecks of blood, and started to laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier the Indians got. The angrier they got, the harder he laughed. He had disobeyed their direct order. He had followed at a discreet distance. And he'd taken a hand when nobody else could and saved Abeque's life. Now both of them, looking as if they'd been rode hard and stabled wet, were venting their terror by barking at him. It was too funny.

  “Oh, shut up!” they shouted, as if the pair had rehearsed it.

  Glenn bit it off. He shouldered the rifle and climbed the escarpment in the place where Abeque had just descended. He climbed over the top and disappeared from sight.

  “Are you all right?” Two Ravens asked Abeque.

  “I am,” she assured him. “It's been a long day, but I'm all right.”

  “He's gone!” It was Glenn, hollering down at them from atop Legend Rock.

  “They're all gone,” Two Ravens said, looking around, still trying to catch his breath. “They've gone into hiding somewhere.”

  “No,” Glenn insisted. “He's gone.” Two Ravens and Abeque stared up at the ranger pointing over the top of the petroglyph site. “The one I shot. The body isn't there.” Glenn scuttled back down and joined the pair below. “The body isn't there,” he said. “There's no sign it ever was. It's just gone.”

  “Gone,” Two Ravens repeated. “But not destroyed.”

  “Doesn't make any sense. I shot him square in the chest.”

  “You're still saying 'him',” Abeque said. “It is not a man, Ranger Glenn.”

  “All right, I shot it in the chest.”

  Two Ravens nodded. “And it got up and ran away none the worse for wear.”

  Chapter 36

  In Abeque's mobile home, in the tiny corner euphemistically referred to as 'the kitchen,' a no-longer shaking but clearly still-disconcerted Abeque sat at the small square Formica-topped breakfast table. Two Ravens had his back to her fussing over her equally tiny stove. Glenn stood, leaning against a closet door, in the 'living room' three feet away. Producing a steaming cup of tea, Two Ravens handed it to the Ghost Dancer, saying, “Are you sure you don't want something stronger?”

  “No.” She took a careful sip, nodded, and added, “This is fine. Thank you.”

  “Maybe you should rest,” Glenn put in. “We could talk later.”

  Abeque shook her head forcefully and set down the cup. “There's no later. There's no time.”

  That settled the matter; they were going to have a serious meeting. But for another several minutes that was all. An unsettling silence surrounded them. At least for Glenn it was unsettling, although not all-together unique. He'd recently come to the conclusion that, despite his frequent visits to Two Ravens' on the reservation, he really didn't know that many Native Americans. But the handful he had met were by and large a thoughtful group of folks. They could and did get loud enough to be heard but rarely without time spent in silence first.

  “Who begins?” Two Ravens finally asked.

  There was no hesitation. “I do,” Abeque said. “My firsts continue. I have taken my first vision quest.” She sipped her tea. “I can tell you this was the first time I met a demon from the Underworld. For the first time I understand why the holy man even exists. Because there is evil in this world.”

  “So Snow on the Mountains was right?” Glenn asked. “These little people are demons?”

  “Well, they're not people. This isn't theory. It doesn't matter what any of us believe. Forgive me, both of you, but that's why a white man and a Snake Indian are having tea with me right now. Because everything I once believed is out the window. You both saw them. They are a tribe of heartless, soulless creatures, demon monsters, in human form.”

  “You believe that?” Two Ravens asked.

  “I know it to be true.”

  “Do you know what they want?”

  “They have come,” Abeque said in monotone, “with the intention of taking over the world.”

  “Great.” Glenn sat, uninvited, looking done in. “So what did the white man do to cause this?”

  Without intending it, the ranger's comment shattered the tension in the room. The Indians exploded in laughter. When the laughs ebbed, Two Ravens joined his friend, asking, “What did they do? I mean, what caused this?”

  Abeque was shaking her head. “As much as I'd like to, we can't put this on the white man. This is on the native tribes.”

  “That doesn't make it better,” Glenn said. “What is it? What's it about?”

  “It's about the very thing for which you came to me. It's about horrible murder. It's about barbarian monsters with a vile belief system and an ancient hunger to rule the world.”

  Two Ravens sat as well, completing an intense triangle. The two male corners now stared at the third in wordless anticipation. Abeque went on.

  “You wanted to know the legend of the little people. Well, here it is, straight from the mouths of the spirits. Ages ago, two and a half centuries ago, before the arrival of the white man from Europe, the little people came up and out of the Underworld and into the mountains. Why? I don't know. The Indians are no more perfect than any other people. Perhaps in response to our failings?”

  “Snow on the Mountains said that,” Glenn said. “Something about cumulative sins.”

  “He was probably struggling to find words you could relate to. No offense, Ranger Glenn, but white and Indian belief systems aren't the same. Exactly why they came, who knows? Why do conquerors come? Why does evil exist? The only thing that matters now is… they came. In the mountains, the little people multiplied; they honed their weapons, their hungers, their hates, and their desires. And then they came out of the mountains… to murder, to plunder, to conquer, and make the world theirs. The animals came first, herds slaughtered in the night or simply made to vanish. No cause could at first be found but, obviously, the monsters were storing provisions. Then the people began to disappear and to die terrible bloody deaths. My people, the Arapaho, were among their first targets, here. Like the animals, no immediate cause could be found. By and by the interlopers were finally seen; seen and given a name. They were called the Nimerigar, the 'tiny people eaters'.”

  “In one of their attacks on a small band of Arapaho here, our immediate ancestors, the Nimerigar killed their holy man and left the Arapaho people without a chief. The dead shaman had a son, Nakos. He was young, with a family of his own, and had yet to receive the necessary teaching to succeed his father. Still, with no other leader, the people thrust the role of shaman upon him. The attacks continued. A tribal council was held. Nakos was sent on a vision quest to learn why the gods were angry, why they had unleashed the little people upon
them, and what it was they had to do to appease the gods and rid the land of the creatures.”

  “Nakos made the vision quest. He rowed the length of the lake of the beaver. He continued south for days, on foot, following a bright star from deep in the forest to the wide-open prairie. The star led him to a holy place; a place of prayer and writing.” Abeque looked to Glenn. “The place your people now, because they have forgotten what holiness means, display to tourists as Legend Rock.”

  Abeque bit her lip, ending her rant before it started. She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Now is not the time. I'm sorry.” Another breath and she had control again. “There, at Legend Rock, Nakos sought his vision. He prayed, smoked his medicine pipe, and talked with representatives of the Great Spirit. He was given a message to take back to his people.”

  “On a moonlit night, some nights later, headed homeward with his vision message and almost home, as the Arapaho holy man rowed his canoe back across the lake of the beaver, he heard voices carried on the wind across the waters. They were the voices of his loved ones, his family. What Nakos heard could not be real for, though he was nearing his village, he was still miles away. Yet he heard his frightened wife crying for him, crying for their children. He heard his daughter crying in pain, his son begging his forgiveness for having failed as the family's protector.”

  “Nakos arrived home to find his family murdered, his home destroyed, his village in smoldering ashes, and the surviving members of his tribe scattered and retreating in the forest. There was nothing left. His family had already been long dead when he heard their cries. Their spirits had called him.”

  “But now Nakos was alone, with the message given him by the gods, but with no one left to hear it. Suddenly the Nimerigar were there and upon him. Nakos was surrounded and trapped. The shaman died and…” Abeque paused in her story. Her mouth had gone dry. She took another sip of tea and swallowed hard. “The Nimerigar were… They are eaters of flesh.”

  “You saw all this in your vision?” Glenn asked.

  “That and more.”

  “More?”

  “The story does not end there. For us, Chief,” Abeque said. “That's really where it begins.” She took another breath, trying to recall exactly how it had been told to her. “Nakos failed his people. But it was not his fault. He was ill prepared. He was too late. And the message he'd received in his vision died with him. After the holy man's death, the remaining Arapaho reunited. They made a temporary peace with the nearby tribes of Shoshone and, together, they fought the Nimerigar. In the battle, they killed the chief of the tiny demon warriors. They took the body of the Nimerigar leader with them from the field of battle. They sent it, with a group of Arapaho and Shoshone braves, to a land south of the Stinking Country far from their own. There, the braves buried the Nimerigar chief in a mountain cave where it would never be found.”

  “Without their leader, the Nimerigar were finally defeated in battle. They were driven out of the lands of the Arapaho and the Shoshone back and down, down into the Underworld, where they were sealed up by the gods. But they were not destroyed. The knowledge of how the demons could be destroyed, given to Nakos in his vision at Legend Rock, had died with him.” For a moment Abeque seemed far away. Finally, sadly, she added, “The same thing happened to Bill Pope.”

  Glenn and Two Ravens both froze.

  “That's why Snow on the Mountains was found at Legend Rock?” Two Ravens asked. “He went there on a vision quest?”

  “No,” Glenn said. “He'd just refused me. Refused to help us. He'd –”

  “He recognized the trouble,” Abeque said. “He knew it for what it was, knew the danger involved. He tried to spare you the danger, Chief. As we suspected, he faced it alone instead.”

  “And died alone,” Two Ravens said bitterly. “For nothing. Nakos learned the secret to the destruction of the demons and took that secret to eternity with him. The same happened to Bill Pope. He met the spirits and was killed before he could stop the Nimerigar or pass on the knowledge of how to defeat them.”

  “No,” the Ghost Dancer said. She laid a hand on Two Ravens' arm. “Neither died in vain. They died to show the way.”

  “Wait,” the outfitter said. “Are you saying you've been given this secret?”

  Abeque nodded solemnly.

  “You know how to stop these things?” Glenn asked, his tone rising as he stood. “Why didn't you say anything?” He demanded. “What is it?”

  “Easy, Ranger,” Two Ravens said.

  “What do you mean easy? We need to know–”

  “Glenn, back off!” Two Ravens shouted.

  “Stop, please!” At the sound of Abeque's shout, both men turned to stare at the Indian healer. “It can't be done that way, Ranger Glenn. You two showed me my responsibility. Now that I have accepted it, it must be handled in the right way.”

  “You're saying we're supposed to leave it up to you? That you'll keep this secret to yourself? How well did that work out for the last two medicine men that had it?”

  “That's not what I'm saying? You came to me because, you said, you needed my help. Now I need your help, both of you, to complete a mission that Nakos and Snow on the Mountains were unable to complete, a mission two and a half centuries old. But I can't simply hand you a weapon and send you after monsters. They are physical beings, they exist, but are not of this world. They are an Indian evil and must be handled as the spirits have said.”

  Flabbergasted, Glenn stood with his mouth hanging open.

  “Abeque,” Two Ravens said. “What needs to be done?”

  “There must be a meeting, an Indian Council.”

  “If it's necessary, we'll call one. I'll get ahold of Shakespeare and Running River.”

  “No,” she said. “You still don't understand. This is an Indian problem that can only be solved by all of the Indian Nations. The meeting must be with representatives of all the tribes of the Great Basin.”

  “Wait, what?” Two Ravens chuckled without merriment. “That's over thirty different tribes.”

  “The red tape,” Glenn added, “in even making contact with them would be… I can't imagine.”

  “Beyond your red tape,” Two Ravens went on. “There is Indian politics, no, forget politics, raw emotions to be dealt with. To this day some of these tribes can't stand the sight of one another. The Ute alone consider the Cheyenne, Crow, Shoshone, Blackfoot, Arapaho, and Paiute all to be enemies; and they're just one tribe. There are plenty more examples. A hundred and fifty years on a reservation may have stopped the wars but it didn't change the feelings. They wouldn't sit at the same table together.”

  “They must,” Abeque said simply. “The red tape must be done away with or ignored. The tribes must put aside their differences and come together. Or we have no hope.”

  “Where would this meeting take place?” Glenn asked. “I mean, if we can pull it off. Could you – could we – get them to come here?”

  “They must,” Abeque said. “Here is where the trouble is. By the time it reaches them, it will be too late for everybody.”

  “That's easy then, isn't it?” the chief ranger asked. “The Reservation Community Building in Fort Washakie. That would be the most logical place. If couched right, there shouldn't be any government objections.”

  Two Ravens shook his head. “Out of the question.”

  “Why? That's what it's for. How many representatives are you talking?”

  “Probably a hundred at least; that building would never hold them. But the number in attendance isn't even the question. Glenn, get this. These tribes are not all friends; some are outright enemies. Indian Reservations took away our way of life but they didn't change our pasts or alter our feelings. Getting all of these tribes together would be more difficult than you know.” Two Ravens looked to Abeque. “No matter how necessary it is.” He returned his attention to Glenn. “To get them together inside a Shoshone and Arapaho Reservation facility would be impossible, beyond thought. Having
enough room would be just the beginning. Beyond old grudges, we'd need to be out of the hearing of the white government.”

  “You're not going to get them here at all without the government.”

  “Why? It's none of their business.”

  “Really?” Glenn asked. “Ever hear of the Bureau of Indian Affairs?”

  Abeque shouted, “At the risk of repeating myself!” Glenn and Two Ravens stared, agog. She lowered her voice. “Stop arguing, please.”

  Glenn reddened. Two Ravens hung his head. Both took a deep breath. Then, as if on cue, lifted their heads at the same time and nodded their acquiescence.

  Abeque's eyes smiled even if she didn't. “Two Ravens is right,” she said. “We need a neutral place. We need a native holy place. We need to make contact with the leaders of all of the tribes on either side of the mountains of the Nimerigar. We need to invite them all, to insist they come, to an Indian Council. The spirits have said it must be so.”

  “Any idea,” Two Ravens asked the Ghost Dancer, “what holy place would suit this meeting?”

  Strangely, out of nowhere, it was Glenn who hesitantly, almost apologetically, suggested a location. It came to him in a flash and instantly seemed the ticket. Still he was nervous to give it voice. When he did, Abeque was surprised and Two Ravens was out and out startled. But after a moment's thought both were exuberantly in favor of the chief ranger's suggestion and agreed immediately.

  Chapter 37

  Dry Cottonwood Creek, silent and lonely, little known and seldom visited, stretched out below the teeming wonder of the Owl Creek Mountains. In the early days of the Shoshone it was sacred, a site of dark secrets, and a door to the afterworld. Its slow moving waters drained into the Wind River to the east long before there was a dam and a Boysen Reservoir. Though much had changed over the years, it remained sacred ground. More so now, for in the midst of this silent splendor stood a single, stately – now holy – cottonwood tree; Silverbear's last resting place.