by Sharon Sala
She raised her arms into the air in a gesture of celebration as she strode toward the ceremonial fire, moving toward the elders with her head up and her shoulders back. In a way, they were going into war, but it would not be a battle with weapons. It would be a battle between the old ways and the new.
An old man who’d been seated around the fire stood up as she approached, and suddenly, Yuma’s voice was near her ear.
“That’s Wesley Two Bears. He’s Cherokee and one of the oldest to survive Firewalker.”
Tyhen nodded once to indicate she heard as she stopped before him. The old man was barefoot, wearing a loin cloth and a small silver ring on a strip of leather hanging around his neck. His skin was burned dark from the sun and his long, gray hair was in braids. His face was wreathed in lines born of pain and sorrow, and she felt like kneeling at his feet. He carried a pair of high-topped, lace-up moccasins in his hands as he approached her.
“We see you, Tyhen. We honor you. These moccasins were on the Last Walk. They ran from Firewalker. They will carry you on your journey as well.”
Tyhen was moved by the gesture, and as she touched them, she received a flash of the woman who’d been wearing them and knew it had been his wife who had died here in Naaki Chava.
“I am honored by your gift,” she said as he laid them in her arms.
He stepped back into the circle as she turned to speak to the gathered crowd. “You called me and I am here. You know what I have to do. Johnston Nantay says there are those among you who wish to leave with me. Is this so?”
The war cry that followed made the hair stand up on the backs of her arms. The passion of their intent was unmistakable, but she had to make sure they understood how deeply they were getting involved.
“It is very far and very dangerous. I cannot promise all of you will reach the final destination.”
Wesley Two Bears lifted his hand, and when her gaze shifted in his direction, he began to speak.
“We are the last of the people from before, and it is our fault Firewalker came. We did not provide properly for our young. We did not teach enough of them to be proud of their heritage and they lost their way. Even before Firewalker, many had already died from an unseen current in the river of their lives. If we die to make right what was wrong, it is a good way to die.”
Tyhen nodded. “Then it is good. Are there many of you?”
“These and more,” Two Bears said, waving his hand toward the gathering.
She blinked. This was well over half of what was left of the New Ones and it was turning into something she had not envisioned. She was trying to figure out how it would work when, once again, she heard Yuma’s voice.
“They have been preparing for years. It will be what it will be.”
She turned and saw the trust and faith in his steady gaze.
“What it will be,” she echoed softly and clasped his hand.
Johnston Nantay came out of the crowd. “We know what to do. Singing Bird has prepared us, just as she prepared you. We have weapons. We have clothing for different weather, for the cold and the rain and the snow. We have small tents in which to sleep along the way. We have maps we have been making that tell us where to walk all the way through this land. Once we cross into the land that was once known as North America, we will use what landmarks we can recognize to guide our steps, and if everything is strange and new, then we will still find our way. Our only wish is to follow you.”
Tyhen was shocked. All these years they’d lived here and she believed that they’d settled in, when in truth, like Yuma, they had been preparing to go home.
Another elder stood. “I ask you this, Tyhen. How will we find the tribes? They will be scattered to the four winds.”
“That is my task, and nothing for you to worry. All you need to know is that they will find us.”
Wesley Two Bears nodded. “This is good. We have talked among our people, and when we see the new tribes, each time some of us will stay behind with them, while the rest continue on with you. It is the only way to make this work.”
Tyhen glanced at Johnston. “Do they know about the stone tablet and what it means?”
“Yes.”
“Then you all know the urgency has increased?”
“Name the day and we will be ready,” Johnston said.
She was thinking of the mountain that would catch fire. The ones who chose not to go should be made aware of what they would be facing, but she had to talk to Cayetano first. It was his right to set the time for the people’s exit, just as it was for her to set the time for hers.
“It will be soon,” she said. “I don’t know what lies ahead, but Yuma and I are grateful to have you with us.”
Johnston Nantay raised his fist into the air and spoke loudly. “Today we will continue to sing to the Old Ones to guide our steps and protect us on the journey. Tomorrow we begin packing the things we will carry. When the Dove is ready, we will be ready, as well.”
“The Dove? Why do you call me this?” she asked.
“Because your quest is to make peace, and in our time, a dove was the symbol for peace.”
The name pleased her. “Then I accept the name. Will you show me what you’ve made?”
“Yes. Follow me.”
The drumbeat resumed. As they were walking away, Yuma looked back and saw the dancers. They would make powerful medicine on this night, and as much as he would have liked to be with them, his place was with Tyhen.
She walked without speaking, the moccasins clutched against her chest. When they passed the field where the baseball games were held, she looked away. Childhood was over.
Yuma had been walking and talking to Johnston, but he caught the look on her face as they passed the ball field and slowed down to walk with her, leaving Johnston to lead the way alone.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Tyhen looked up. “You want the truth?”
He nodded.
“I’m trying not to. The journey seems impossible and the weight of my responsibility is heavy.”
“But you won’t be alone.”
“It’s not the number of people who walk with me that will influence the tribes we meet. It’s me they will judge. If this fails, it’s me who will bear the guilt.”
“You won’t fail.”
“But how do you know?”
He rubbed his thumb along the scar on her wrist where she’d cut herself to save his life. “You have already worked magic. When the time comes, you will do what is needed to make the people believe.”
She was silent for a little while longer and then finally nodded. “I will dream tonight. Maybe the way will seem clearer.”
“We are here,” Johnston said as he stopped at the door to a long two-story building.
Tyhen eyed the building curiously as Johnston began opening the shutters on one side of the building.
“For light,” he said and led the way in.
Yuma had never been inside, and even though he knew most of what they’d been accumulating, he was surprised by the quantity.
Two rows of deep shelves lined the walls above cabinets. Some of the cabinets had doors, some were just open compartments, and every surface was covered and stacked two deep with a wide variety of goods and clothing.
“This is one of ten buildings we have built. These are tools to build better structures for the tribes to live in. We can show them how homes that do not move give them a stronger claim to the land.”
Tyhen frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The people of the plains lived in tepees made of long poles and animal skins. They could put them up and take them down at a moment’s notice for ease in traveling, but they followed their food source, rather than create one of their own. In the end, it left them vulnerable. Some people in the dryer parts of the land lived in small, round houses made of mud and grass and abandoned them when necessary. Others lived in caves carved into the side of mountains.”
Tyhen thought of the comfor
t of the palace and the dwellings in the city and shuddered. She hadn’t thought about a more primitive style of housing, which made her realize she hadn’t given much thought to anything except what she had to do.
“These are some of the stronger metal weapons we have been making,” Johnston said. “There are better axes and hatchets than what was here, saws to cut down trees for building, knives and spears to protect and feed ourselves. We have bows and arrows with metal arrowheads like the kind your mother brought from the past. Here are cooking vessels and this table has clothing for different kinds of weather.”
He unfolded one and showed her how it worked.
“It’s made from jaguar skins,” she said, as she slipped her arms into the sleeves then frowned and quickly took it off again.
Yuma grinned. “What’s wrong?”
“It makes me sweat,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“You won’t be sweating when it becomes necessary to wear it,” Johnston said.
Tyhen eyed the grin on Yuma’s face and remembered the fight they’d had months earlier. “Is this for cold and frozen?”
He nodded.
She sighed and handed it back to Johnston, then followed the men around the room, then up to the second floor, amazed at what they’d thought of and wondering how they would carry it all, when he answered the question before she asked.
“We made packs to carry on our backs with basic equipment for each person, plus some packs we can drag, and look at these,” he said, pulling out some rolls of tanned animal skins.
Johnston handed one to Yuma. “Unroll that,” he said.
Yuma moved a stack of packs aside and carefully unrolled the supple skin, then looked in disbelief.
“It’s a map! Are all of those maps?” he asked, pointing to the other rolls Johnston was holding.
“Yes, but they aren’t maps to a specific destination. They are maps of specific landmarks and mountain ranges, things that would not necessarily change shape all that much over a thousand or so years.”
“This is amazing and very important,” Yuma said.
Johnston beamed. “The tribal elders thought of this.”
They were talking of things of which she had no knowledge, but this time it didn’t matter. As long as they understood, she was satisfied. She was watching Yuma’s face and thinking how much she loved him when she heard Adam’s voice in her head.
“Go to the temple now.”
I do not go into that place.
“You can now. It has been cleansed. But you must hurry. A visitor is coming just for you, and you must go inside alone.”
Who?
“I think it is your father.”
But Cayetano is-
“Cayetano is not your father.”
She gasped.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly.
Yuma frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She just shook her head.
“Go,” Johnston said. “I’ll close up. You know where we are if you need us.”
Still carrying her moccasins, she took the steps down from the second floor as quickly as possible with Yuma right behind her.
As soon as they got outside, Yuma asked. “What happened?”
“Adam told me to go to the temple.”
“But he knows you don’t want to go in there. Did he say why?”
“They did a cleansing of the temple. He said it will be okay.”
“But why—?”
She grabbed his hand. “Walk faster.”
He lengthened his stride. “Tyhen, what is going on?”
“I am supposed to meet a visitor there.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“I have to do this by myself, Yuma.”
“That is not going to happen,” Yuma said. “We cannot trust—”
“He said it was my father.”
Yuma frowned. “Why would Cayetano want to speak to you at the temple?”
“He is not my father,” she said and then started running.
Yuma’s heart began to race as he hurried to catch up.
When they reached the temple, Tyhen stopped at the doorway. The day was hot, but she could feel a breeze and knew it had nothing to do with the weather. She turned around, then handed him her moccasins to hold.
“You cannot go any farther,” she said and hugged him. “I am sorry. It is not my decision to make.”
He nodded to reassure her he understood. “I will stand guard here and wait for you to come out.”
She turned and then hesitated before going inside.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“How would you feel?”
He sighed. “I cannot begin to imagine.”
Her eyes narrowed as she walked inside. The passageway was low and she was tall. If she raised her arm, she could easily touch the ceiling. It made her feel like she was walking into a trap. At the least, she would need light. She lifted a torch from the wall before making her way through the maze of tunnels.
It was a relief to know the angry spirits she’d felt before were absent, but there was a stronger, more urgent reason guiding her steps. She’d never imagined this day would happen, but now that it was, she was curious, excited, and more than a little anxious.
The farther she walked, the darker it became, until all she could see was the space immediately in front of her. Despite the distance she’d gone, there was still a wind at her back, a warning that her visitor’s arrival was imminent.
A few moments later, a faint light appeared out of the darkness and she took heart and hurried toward it. She soon found herself inside a large, open chamber. Sunlight had painted a wide swatch of light on the floor in the center of the room. She looked up to find the source coming in through a small opening from up above.
The air began to shift around her as she waited, her heart pounding. Then it moved faster, shifting dust until the beam of sunlight was teeming with it, and still she waited, motionless. When the air began to spin around her, it blew her hair first one way and then another, spinning so fast it was hard to breathe.
She was gasping for breath when suddenly he was before her, his long, black hair floating in the air around his face like the feathered headdress of a Naaki Chava warrior. He was beautiful, and at the same time so fearsome she wanted to run away.
“Are you my father?” she asked.
He nodded once, still silent under her stare.
Moved by the fact that she was actually standing with him, face-to-face, her voice began to shake.
“I thought you did not exist anymore. I thought when the curse was broken, you were gone.”
Yet I am here.
Even though he didn’t speak, she heard his words.
“What is wrong? Why are you here?”
I came for your mother when it was time, and now I come for you. You have powers, but you will have need of more.
“Then how do I get them? What do I need to do?”
Do nothing. Close your eyes.
She did as he asked, waiting to see what happened next. At first she heard nothing, felt nothing, and then his hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her forward into his arms.
She could still smell the dust stirred by his arrival and the scent of heat from the sun on his skin. She was so anxious about what was going to happen that she had yet to connect with the fact she was in her father’s arms. Then his cheek was against her forehead, and when the first of his tears touched her face, she moaned, then staggered. Had he not been holding her, she would have gone to her knees. They held the memory of everything he’d suffered to leave her mother behind and it broke her heart. Then she heard his voice again, rolling through her like water.
You are Windwalker’s daughter. You and you alone will complete the change for our people. I have given your story to the nations. The shamans and the medicine men know of you and your quest. The sign of your coming will be marked when they see a white dove, then they will begin a march, leading their people to
you. It is your story they will hear. It is your power they will see. End the warring. Build the nations. Make them stronger than the strangers who have already set foot upon our shores. In seven sleeps you must be gone. Now you have heard, and so it is done. I have given you my power. Now I give you my heart.
Heat shot through her, burning so hot and so fast that she thought she would die, and then she did not. When he began pulling away, she wanted to open her eyes, but was helpless to move.
“Wait! Don’t go! Will I ever see you again?”
As you see yourself, so you will see me.
The air inside the chamber swirled softly, shifted against her body as if reaching for a final grasp, and died.
The hold he’d had on her will was gone. Tyhen opened her eyes as the sadness swept through her. She took her torch from the wall and began retracing her steps. When she came out, Yuma was still standing in front of the doorway with her moccasins, but the sun was already moving past the top of the sky. She’d been inside for hours and it felt like only minutes.
“I’m ready,” she said as she touched Yuma’s shoulder.
He turned around, started to speak and then stared. “Tyhen?”
“Yes it’s me. Who else would I be?”
“You look... you look different.”
She shrugged.
“Was it the Windwalker? Did you see him?” he asked.
“I saw him,” she said softly, and slipped her hand in his. “I want to leave now.”
Yuma gave her the moccasins, then took a deep breath and stifled every question on his lips.
They began the walk back through the playa, then through the marketplace toward the hill that led to the palace. Twice Tyhen stopped to talk to people trading their goods, once accepting a piece of sugar cane to chew on, and another time to ask about a new baby.
Yuma felt her sadness, but there was also a maturity that had come out of nowhere. When she handed him a piece of sugar cane, he took it with a smile and thanked the trader, promising to bring something from the palace as compensation. But the trader refused, happy to have been the one chosen to give the chief’s daughter a treat as they walked away.
They walked in silence for a few minutes more as they chewed on the chunk of cane, and then Tyhen suddenly tossed hers aside and took Yuma’s hand without looking at him.