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Qaletaqa

Page 17

by Gladden, DelSheree


  “When I find the core, how do I look into someone’s future?” I was imagining a long list of complicated steps, but Kaya surprised me yet again.

  “I guess ‘look for’ isn’t the right way to explain it. ‘Look at’ is more fitting,” Kaya said after a moment. “You certainly won’t have to search for them. They’re just there, in the core. As soon as you find the core, the possibilities of someone’s life will just start flowing around you. The really difficult part is trying to figure out what you’re looking at. And unfortunately, that’s only something you can learn how to do with practice. The exact details and process are completely unique to each shaman.”

  Uriah told me that when he saw the images during Kaya’s attempt to read his future they were a big jumble of pictures and flashes. I had been hoping that it was different for a shaman. I put that aside and gathered my courage. Uriah was banking on me being able to tell him where the Matwau was leading us, but I had another objective. I turned away from Uriah and lowered my voice.

  “I know Uriah wants me to learn about seeing someone’s future the most right now, but there was something else I wanted to ask you about.”

  Kaya picked up on secretive tone, and asked, “Something you don’t him to know about?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly.

  “Why not?” Her harsh tone was a warning. Uriah must have been very detailed in explaining everything Quaile had done lately.

  If Uriah really trusted Kaya, then I knew I could trust her too. Having Uriah right next to me made it kind of hard to tell her what I didn’t want him knowing. I had to try if I wanted answers.

  “I’ve been reading Quaile’s book, about the source of a person’s power. I want to know more about that. I want to know how to find the source of a person’s power.”

  Uriah didn’t seem to take any notice of my conversation, but Kaya had gone silent. I waited patiently for her to say something.

  “Since you being so secretive about this, I assume you mean you want to find the source to your power specifically. Why?”

  “Because…if I know where it comes from I might be able to do more with it.”

  “Like what?”

  The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t utter them with Uriah sitting only inches away. He was so close to figuring it all out. If I said anything like because I need to give it up, I’m sure he would put the pieces together and send me home to keep me safe two seconds later, promise or no promise.

  “Do I have to guess?” Kaya asked. When I didn’t say anything she sighed. “Fine. Something to do with your power specifically. Hmm. Does this have anything to do with Uriah thinking you can help him against the Matwau?”

  “Yes, definitely. It was mentioned in the book.”

  “The book…of shaman lore.” Kaya went quiet again. She stayed that way for quite a while. “Uriah isn’t meant to do this alone, is he?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “I can’t believe that possibility never occurred to me. Uriah told me about the strange interactions between you two. I should have seen there was a deeper connection, especially after guessing that you were stealing his power.”

  Finally I saw a way to tell her what I wanted to know. “That’s exactly it. But it has to be a choice this time, and in the opposite direction.”

  “You have to…give him your power?” Kaya asked. “But you couldn’t do it temporarily. Once you give it up, it’s gone forever.”

  “I know. I’m okay with that.” Even though I wished it weren’t true. I wished I could hold onto it long enough to do both.

  “Wow, Claire. I can’t imagine giving up my power. I know you’re new to all of this, but having such amazing gifts changes your life. It’s in every part of my day. You’re sure this is what you have to do?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay then. I can’t tell you exactly how to do it, because I’ve never heard of anyone actually giving up their powers successfully, but I do know how to find the source. I’ve done it a few times to figure out why a person was having gift related issues. You’ll follow the same steps I taught you to find your soul, but you have stop right before you actually touch the soul.

  “This is incredibly hard to do. You’ll find out when you try to reach Uriah’s soul next time that once you get close enough it’s almost impossible to stop yourself from being sucked in. But if you can stop, you’ll find that on the surface of a person’s soul there are points of contact where power touches it.

  “I’ve only ever examined these points of contact, but the flow of power from the soul is very tenuous. Stopping the flow won’t make the power disappear, though. Power can’t be destroyed because it’s a part of the immortal soul. It can only be changed or transferred.

  “I suppose that in order to strip a person of their talents you would simply gather up the strands of power and pull them away. Which sounds simple, but getting a good hold on power is like trying to catch water with a sieve.” Kaya sighed again. “I’m not sure how helpful that is.”

  “It’s more than I had before. Thanks, Kaya.”

  The noise of movement traveled through the phone to Claire. When it stopped, Kaya said, “Claire, you should tell Uriah.”

  “If I do…my chance may never come.”

  “You think he’d stop you from going with him? Is there more that might happen? Because Uriah isn’t a big fan of having gifts and power in the first place.”

  “Think about what it’s connected to. It might not break cleanly,” I said, hoping Kaya would understand my cryptic message, especially when Uriah looked over at me with a strange expression. That was too close. I waited for Kaya’s response, but she had gone very quiet. When she finally did speak, I could hear the despair in her voice.

  “Your soul is your life force. It feeds your power, but it changes when it leaves the soul, making it different than your talents. They’re different, but still very connected. They were created to stay that way. You could die if your power and soul don’t want to be separated,” Kaya said softly. “Oh, Claire. I wasn’t thinking about that. I got too caught up in my own curiosity. You have to tell Uriah what you’re risking.”

  “I can’t, Kaya.”

  She sniffed, and rustling of the phone made me wonder if she was crying. “After everything he’s been through, and you. That can’t happen. You can’t be taken away from him, Claire. I can’t stand the idea.”

  “I have to try either way,” I said barely above a whisper, “but do you understand why I can’t?”

  “Yes, I won’t mention any of this to Uriah.”

  I wanted to reach through the phone and hug her. I settled for a quiet thank you. Desire to switch topics and spare myself anymore talk of my own death pushed me to find something else to say. My mind, however, was still hung up on the chance I would never get to break the bond between Uriah and Melody. Maybe my power would be used up, but if I gave it all to Uriah, could he use it himself to break the bond?

  “Kaya, shamans can touch a soul…and power,” I said, hoping she would stay on the same track, “but are they the only ones? Can anyone with power find their source?”

  “You mean like Uriah?” Hope bubbled in her voice. “As far as I know, shaman are the only ones, but Uriah isn’t like anyone else. Most people with power use it subconsciously, but Uriah has real control over his. If anyone could do it, he could. Maybe he could break the bond himself. If he has enough power left over, and if he truly wanted to.”

  It was still such a long shot, an idea that may come to nothing, but a small spark of hope burned within my heart. The struggle not to let it show was agonizing. In an attempt to keep it contained, I changed topics.

  “Is there anything else you can teach me right now?” I asked.

  “I did want to talk to you about dreaming,” Kaya said.

  “Dreaming?” I asked. With everything else I had to work on, adding dreams to the mix might be a bit too much right now.

  “I know you’ve got a lot on
your plate already,” Kaya agreed, “but dreams can be just as useful, sometimes more useful than anything else I might teach you.”

  “But you can’t make yourself have a dream, can you?” After the horrible twin-soul-bond-induced dreams I had suffered through, I was really more interested in how to make yourself stop dreaming. It was a skill I would like to pass along to Uriah as well. I sighed at that.

  I knew Uriah would most likely meet Melody in that strange in-between place again tonight. I wished I could stop it because of my own fear, but could never actually do it. She might be able to tell him something useful, something that would help us find her. It was a huge risk for them to be together even there, but it was an even bigger risk to keep them apart. If Melody died because we couldn’t find her quickly enough, it would destroy Harvey, and likely Uriah too. Dreams. Did I really want to force myself into more of them?

  “You can’t really make yourself have a dream, but you can prepare yourself for one, and sometimes influence what the dream will contain,” Kaya said, unaware of my thoughts. At least I hoped she was.

  “I’m going to give you some exercises to do before you go to bed tonight.” Kaya paused.

  I prayed that she wasn’t going to say anything else about what I might or might not do before going to bed tonight. I knew nothing would happen, Uriah had been right about that, but that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it, either. Kaya’s silence lasted a little longer before she finally spoke.

  “Anyway, before you go to bed tonight, I want you to do the same meditation exercises I taught you earlier. When you reach a focused enough state, start forming a question in your mind about what you need an answer to. Make it as detailed as possible. Let it take shape in your mind, in the form of a picture if you can. And hold onto that until you fall asleep,” she said. “You may have to try sleeping in a chair to maintain your focus long enough for the exercise to help.”

  “Really? That’s all?” I asked. “I was expecting something…more.”

  “Like some magic words or something?” Kaya said drily. I snickered. That was exactly what I had been thinking. Kaya laughed as well.

  “Claire, what shamans are able to do has a lot more to do with spiritual forces than magical ones. Even seeing the future of a person’s life isn’t magical, it’s spiritual,” Kaya said more seriously. “Souls are ceaseless. They will never die and were never really born, either. They simply exist. A person’s soul knows what lies ahead, because they are part of that future. When you tap into that soul, you aren’t forcing it to do something with any kind of spell. You’re simply communicating with it.”

  Giving me a chance to take in what she had said, Kaya remained silent for a while. I had never really considered the difference between a shaman being magical or spiritual. It had always seemed to be pretty much the same thing. Until recently, I didn’t believe in either one. Even having just attempted to reach out to Uriah’s soul, I still hadn’t considered by what power I was doing it. I just hoped it worked. Kaya’s lessons were starting to take on a whole new meaning. I did still wonder about one thing, though.

  “What about the potions? Aren’t they magical?” I asked.

  Kaya seemed to expect the question. “Even with the potion Uriah made there was nothing magical about it, not really. The properties of each plant were designed by the gods. Using them in specific ways and combinations simply unlocks the potential inside of them. The gods designed them that way.”

  I wondered if I was starting to lose my mind when her reasoning made perfect sense to me. Uriah had told me about how the potion was made, the grinding and crushing and cooking, but I had just assumed that he left out any words said or things done to the mixture to make it sound less unnerving. Now I understood that there really had been none of that.

  “So how does me thinking about what I want to dream about make me actually dream about it?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t always work, it depends on the strength of the person doing it, but focusing your spiritual energy opens your mind up to communicating with the universe,” Kaya said. “If you already have a question prepared, you’re more likely to receive an answer.”

  Again, it made very good sense.

  Maybe I really can do this.

  21: Ahiga’s Promise

  I hated stopping, but everyone was so tired and I knew I wouldn’t find the Matwau until he was ready for me to find him. Not without some vision of where he was leading me. Stopping for the night was the only real choice. Harvey looked nearly dead when he practically crawled up the stairs to his room. I knew all too well how much stress and fear, and too much driving, could eat away at a person.

  I felt ready to drop as well, but Claire sat on the bed, a picture of serenity and calm. Her eyes were closed. She sat cross-legged on top of the comforter, breathing in slow, steadying breaths. She had explained about the exercises Kaya had taught her, and about her promise to practice them tonight.

  My hopes of curling up next to her on the bed were severely deflated, but that was probably a good thing. I was dog-tired, but I was sure it wouldn’t take too much to wipe my weariness away if Claire so much as hinted at doing something besides meditating. I knew she wouldn’t, though. We had already agreed not to even talk about it again until after this was all over. If it was ever over.

  I sighed, feeling another wave of exhaustion roll over me. I wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week, but Claire had reminded me about calling my mom. She had been sweet enough to keep her mom updated on where we were and what we were doing since she left San Juan. I hadn’t been nearly as good. A bad habit from my trip to Hano. I knew that if our moms weren’t together already, Sarah Brant would have definitely called my mom as soon as she hung up with Claire, so I hadn’t worried about it as much as I should have.

  Claire’s last call to her mom, however, had ended in my mom snatching the phone out of Sarah’s hand and asking Claire very politely to have me call her and promising that she would wring my neck when I got home if I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to talk to my mom, I just didn’t want her to start crying about what I was doing like the last time we talked. I knew Claire had told her mom everything. That meant my mom knew too. Every depressing detail.

  Resigning myself to the inevitable tears, I searched the hotel room’s plain wooden desk for my phone. I didn’t see either of our phones. I groaned when I remembered I had plugged them in to charge back in the truck. And left them there. Glancing over at Claire, I was going to tell her I had to run down to the car, but after seeing her focused expression I decided to leave a note instead.

  When I reached the double doors of the hotel, I hesitated at the door. It wasn’t fear that kept me from moving this time. I knew that as soon as I stepped outside I would be greeted by the unappetizing smell of the slaughter houses. Claire and I had smelled it as soon as we’d gotten into Greeley. At first, I thought it was manure we were smelling. I couldn’t believe there would be enough manure in one place to make an entire town reek of it. Harvey was quick to correct us when we stopped for dinner and he saw our wrinkled noses. Knowing the smell’s source made it even worse.

  It was a small thing, but on top of everything else, I didn’t want to deal with it. The smell seemed like one more device to make this journey intolerable. Where was the balance the gods claimed they valued so highly now? I pushed through the doors and stared up at the stars in challenge.

  “Why?” I asked the gods, almost yelling. “Why do you have to make everything as hard as possible for me? I need help! There is no balance in sending me against a monster I’m not prepared to fight! Your glorious scheme didn’t pan out like you thought it would, but what have you done about it? Nothing!”

  I dropped my gaze and glared at the pavement under my feet instead. My words, though, were still aimed at the gods. “If you want me to kill him, you better tell me what to do. Otherwise you’re just going to be sending another one of your children to be slaughtered. Screw fair, I deserve some hel
p after everything you’ve put me through.”

  The silence of a sleeping sky was my only response. I don’t know what I was expecting. My mind had been steeped in myth and legend for so long now I actually expected some kind of answer from them. They hadn’t helped me so far. Why would they now? I shook my head in disgust at myself and them.

  I tried to ignore the stench as I forgot the unresponsive gods and hurried to my truck. I was unlocking the door when I saw movement to my right. Reminding myself that I was standing in a parking lot where other people might have needed to get back into their cars, I tried to act natural. The last thing I needed was to pounce on some innocent stranger and have them call the police.

  Still, I shifted so I could see what the person looked like. I hoped it was a person.

  As soon as I caught a glimpse of the large, copper-skinned man, I dropped to the ground. I had never seen the man before, but I recognized the wind up of a punch when I saw it. Thanks to my falling into a crouch like a frightened child, his fist swung well over my head. I scrambled up to my feet and darted away from him.

  “Hey, man, I’m not going to hurt you. Just back off, okay?” I knew this wasn’t the Matwau in disguise again. There was no sickening feeling of centipedes crawling all over my body, but that didn’t mean the guy wasn’t helping him out. Or he might just be drunk.

  He didn’t look drunk, though. His eyes were focused and cold. I was starting to lean toward the guy being one of the Matwau’s helpers. Talking probably wasn’t going to work. So I squared my stance and prepared myself for another attack. I wasn’t disappointed.

  His fists came at me again, a terrifying haymaker that I barely dodged, and a jab that caught my shoulder. I took a steadying step backward and squared my shoulders. This guy was definitely not drunk. He was a trained fighter. Luckily, so was I.

  I took my own shots, missing the first, but connecting on the second. My fist slammed into his jaw. It should have sent him reeling away from me. He should have been in pain. The man did feel the impact, his head swinging to the left, but he just bounced back. His long, glossy black hair swirled around his shoulders. The smile on his face seemed almost pleased. There wasn’t any doubt left in me about who had sent this guy. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

 

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