The Dove (Prophecy Series)

by Sharon Sala

  “You are perfect,” she said softly. “A perfect man, my perfect man.”

  “Am I still alive?” he mumbled.

  She smiled. “Did I give you pleasure?”

  He groaned. “Are you responsible for that?”

  “I guess. I just shared what I felt so you could feel it, too.”

  “I make you feel like that?”

  She nodded.

  He managed a wry smile. “I am better than I thought.”

  She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “You make me so happy.”

  He kissed her. Then he kissed her again and again until he’d kissed the smile from her face and put the lust back in her eyes because that was what made him happy.

  ****

  The family met at sundown to share a meal. They had just begun to eat when they heard drums.

  Cayetano recognized them as coming from the New Ones and quickly looked to Singing Bird.

  “What is happening? What are they doing this?”

  Singing Bird hesitated, and as she did, Yuma quickly explained. “It is a thing our people do. It’s like praying or talking to the Old Ones, asking for guidance and strength. Sometimes it is part of the stories the dancers are telling, like when your people pray to the gods for favors, our people are sending messages to Old Ones, asking for strength and power for the task ahead. This may go on until we leave. Do you want them to stop?”

  Cayetano shook his head. “They can do whatever they need to do to prepare for the journey ahead.”

  Tyhen listened absently to her family’s conversation, but her focus was on the drums. She could feel the spirits of the Old Ones all around them, but more importantly, she felt the urgency.

  Yuma handed her a bowl with some squash and beans. She thanked him with a smile. She should have been starving because they’d made love most of the afternoon, but her appetite was small.

  Adam glanced at her and when she caught him staring, he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, like he knew what they’d been doing.

  She arched an eyebrow and stared back.

  You wouldn’t make fun if you knew what you were missing.

  The smirk died on his face.

  We are different. It doesn’t interest us.

  So... then you can’t tease if you are unfamiliar with the subject.

  Evan caught the last part of their silent conversation and frowned at his brother.

  Adam. Mind your manners.

  Adam heard his brother, but ignored him. They always teased each other about everything. It was their one vice.

  Then it occurred to him that this meal they were sharing was one of the last times they’d be together like this and, in a rare moment of emotion, felt a swelling pain behind his heart. He grimaced as he rubbed his chest, wondering if that was what it felt like to be sad.

  Yuma had grown up with the twins and even though they were grown men, they were often childish in their behavior. They would have never made good warriors, but they were born to be shamans. He hated to leave them, but felt better knowing their particular skills would be part of what kept the people of Naaki Chava safe.

  Singing Bird was smiling and talking, but the food that she swallowed sat in her belly like rocks. Despite all of their pretenses, it was not a happy gathering, and the drums were an ugly reminder of what was to come.

  Long after the meal was over and they’d all gone to their rooms and then to bed, Singing Bird could not sleep and she wished the drums would stop. She felt safe in Cayetano’s arms, but it was a false emotion. They would never be safe again.

  ****

  The drumming stopped at sunrise. Even though many had yet to sleep, there was work to be done.

  Shirley Nantay had been to the river early to wash clothing and was draping the wet garments over a makeshift clothes line Johnston had made for her years ago when she heard voices and the footsteps of people approaching. She walked out from behind her house and saw Singing Bird and her daughter approaching, accompanied by a handful of guards. She could tell by the expression on Singing Bird’s face that it was not a social call and went to meet them.

  “Good morning,” Shirley said. “You’re out early. Welcome to my house.”

  “Thank you, Shirley. I apologize for this unannounced visit. Is Johnston here? Tyhen and I would like to speak with him.”

  “Yes, he’s here. Come inside.”

  Tyhen never tired of seeing the inside of the New Ones’ dwellings. They looked nothing like the layout of the palace. When they walked inside, Johnston was at a table peeling fruit. He looked up, expecting his wife, then realized they had visitors and quickly wiped his hands before greeting them.

  “Come in, come in! Have you eaten? We have plenty to share.”

  “We have eaten and thank you. I’m sorry to bother, but we need to talk.”

  “Please sit,” he said, pointing to some benches near their table.

  Singing Bird took a seat on the bench, but Tyhen walked to the window instead and looked out toward the fields where the people were already working, then up at the mountain that had become their enemy. She could hear her mother explaining what they needed and where they planned to relocate the people. When she turned around, Johnston was hurrying out the door.

  “Where’s he going?” she asked.

  “Good news,” Singing Bird said. “They have a map he thinks will help us. He went next door to send his brother to one of the storage buildings to get it.”

  Tyhen sat down beside her mother. She had her own news to impart, but one thing at a time.

  A few moments later Johnston came back.

  “Montford and his two boys have gone after the maps. They know the one you’ll need to see, but it may take some time to find it. They have not been cataloged in any order. If you don’t have time to wait, I will gladly bring it to you.”

  Singing Bird glanced at Tyhen, and then stood up. “I will go back now, but Tyhen will talk to you. She can bring it.”

  Johnston walked Singing Bird to the door, but when he turned around, Tyhen was standing. Her eyes were fixed on his face as if readying herself to deliver a hard message. He took a slow breath, bracing himself for what she had to say.

  “I leave Naaki Chava in six days.”

  Johnston reeled. “That soon?”

  “So I was told.”

  Shirley ran to Johnston, clinging to him within the shelter of his embrace. She was crying, but Johnston’s gaze never wavered.

  “We will be ready,” he said. “And just so you know, we have packs made especially for you and Yuma. We’ll have them ready for you when we gather.”

  “I thank you,” she said and then crossed the room to where they were standing and put a hand on Shirley’s shoulder and felt her panic. “Shirley Nantay, I share your fears. I wish this was not so, but it is what I was born to do.”

  Wiping her eyes, Shirley turned to face Tyhen. “We know. We’ve known since the first day here that this would not be the end of our journey. We learned the hard way that nothing is forever, and how to be happy with what we had here. It’s just that we are older now, and it will be more difficult. Like you, we do what we must.”

  “You need to know that visions have been given to all the tribes. They now know what has happened and why we are coming.”

  “This is good,” Johnston said.

  “You told me before that not all of the New Ones had planned to come with us. So what do they say now that they know about the mountain and the fire?”

  “They will walk with Singing Bird. She led them to safety once. They believe she will do it again.”

  Tyhen smiled. “My mother will be pleased to hear this. I will make sure to let her know.”

  Shirley interrupted. “I just remembered I was hanging my laundry. I should go finish the task. Excuse me.”

  She hurried out of the house, leaving Johnston and Tyhen alone, and the moment she left, Johnston did not hesitate to ask what was on his mind.

  “Yesterday... at
the temple... we did not know you possessed such powers and want to assure you that none of the New Ones had any part in that rebellion.”

  “I already knew that.”

  He looked at her closer. “I have known you since the day you were born. I’ve watched you grow into a woman. But the woman who stands before me now is not the same woman who was with me yesterday. Something happened to you.”

  She met his gaze in silence.

  “I wasn’t asking you to tell me what happened. I am telling you that I know, and it is an acknowledgement of our belief in your ability to make this journey successful.”

  Tyhen was touched by his faith in her. “I will do what has to be done.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Two guards had been left behind to accompany Tyhen back to the palace. As she walked past the temple and through the marketplace, for the first time in her life, she felt the need for their presence.

  The city was filled with dark energy. She couldn’t tell if it came from the knowledge that the mountain was going to die and take the city with it or from the dissatisfaction of Cayetano’s rule, but it was not a good place to be.

  Even the people who would have normally waved at her or greeted her with smiles and offers of treats were now looking away or staring at her in fear. Yesterday she’d frightened them even more by her powers, reminding them she was not one of them. Being different was always the great divider.

  As she got closer to the palace, she looked up at the dwelling rising from a sea of green. Once it had been her world, and now it was just a building. The realization startled her.

  And so it goes. In my heart, I am already gone.

  ****

  One day ran into the next and the next, complicated by the tragedies of good-byes and fear of the unknown until this day and the oncoming night would be the last she would know in the city of her birth.

  It was also the day Tyhen said her good-byes to Acat, the little servant who had been her nursemaid, friend, and confidante.

  Acat sat on the floor in Tyhen’s room, weeping inconsolably. She was devastated by the news that Naaki Chava would be destroyed, but also because she would never see Tyhen again.

  Tyhen finally sat down and cried with her. Oddly, it was Tyhen’s tears that pulled Acat from her desolation.

  “Don’t cry, little whirlwind. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Tyhen threw her arms around the tiny woman and held her close. “I’m sorry, too,” Tyhen said. “None of this is happy news, but it is the way with life, is it not? I believe it was you who taught me that all living things must die.”

  Acat swiped the tears from her face as she thought back, and then suddenly smiled. “Yes, yes, I did. It was when we found that little monkey dead outside your window.”

  “I’d never seen death before,” Tyhen said.

  Acat patted her knee. “You carried it to the pool of healing water, certain that it would come back to life.”

  Tyhen wiped her tears and smiled. “And I was wrong, so we buried a very clean, but very dead monkey.”

  Acat giggled.

  Tyhen smiled.

  And just like that, the crucial moment of good-bye ended with joy.

  “I will miss you and say a prayer to the gods every day for your safety,” Acat said.

  “Thank you,” Tyhen said and was still sitting in the floor when Acat scurried away. She looked around at all she was leaving behind, then hardened her heart and left the room.

  She moved quietly through the palace halls on bare feet like the ghost she already was, setting certain things to memory because it was the only way she could take them with her.

  The guards standing along the hallways maintained their posts as she passed, but she knew they were looking at her, wondering what would happen to her and where she would go.

  It was nearing sundown. The long shadows were already showing on the floor beneath her feet. There was a place she wanted to visit, a secret place from her childhood and she had a need to see it one last time.

  Finally, she came to the end of a dark, dusty hall. Once a woman who had been a weaver in the palace had called the room her home, but after she died, it became a place of storage.

  Tyhen stepped inside the doorway and was struck by the sight of so much stuff: old benches, bent serving bowls, broken spears, damaged shields, things that should have been repaired but had been put in here and forgotten.

  Then she remembered why she’d come and began counting off the tiles from the doorway until she came to the one that was loose. She dropped to her knees and, just as she’d done many times before, lifted it and set it aside.

  Even though the light was dim in the room, Tyhen could see her little treasures. A braided piece of leather that Yuma had one day taken from his hair and tied in her hair instead, a tiny piece of hammered silver that had broken off of his shield, a small chunk of turquoise he’d given her after she’d fallen and scraped her knees. There were tears in her eyes as she went through the stash, remembering how dear they’d been to her then, and how small and insignificant they looked to her now. She put each item back as reverently as she’d taken them out, replaced the tile, and then pushed it down with the flat of her hand. It was cool to the touch and she wondered if, when the mountain died, the river of fire would come this far. Finally, she stood up and walked out. Those were pieces of the child she’d been, and since she was leaving that life behind, it was best they stayed with it.

  Her steps were swift, her stride long as she moved through the palace. Guards were beginning to carry lit torches to their stations, lighting the halls as she made her way back to her room where Yuma would be waiting. The thought of him made her heart leap and she lengthened her stride.

  ****

  Yuma had said his good-byes to the twins over an hour ago, then stopped by Singing Bird’s room but she wasn’t there. Instead of going to look for her, he went into their room to wait for Tyhen.

  He’d spent a good part of the day down in the city with the New Ones, making sure everything and everyone was ready to leave tomorrow, then saying good-bye to the old ones among them who had chosen to stay with Singing Bird.

  He stepped out of his sandals and took off his loincloth, then went to a large bowl of water and began to wash. Once he was finished, he tossed the water out of the window and laughed when it sent a trio of monkeys scattering in three different directions. They were still screeching and scolding him when he walked away.

  He picked up a banana from a bowl of fresh fruit, then changed his mind and put it back. The bed looked far more inviting.

  He lay back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. This time tomorrow night they would be sleeping under the stars and the thought made his pulse skip.

  He stretched, and when he did, his long legs went off the end of the bed. Without traditional measurements, he had no idea how tall he was, but his father had been a big man, and Yuma guessed his final height was over six feet, a perfect match for the Windwalker’s daughter.

  He was thinking about the pond behind his father’s house and the big mouth bass he used to catch there when he closed his eyes, and he was still thinking about home when he fell asleep.

  ****

  Singing Bird had spent the day in isolation, strengthening her resolve for tomorrow. She would not shame her daughter or herself by weeping at their parting. Some things were beyond mortal control and this was one of them.

  Cayetano had been noticeably absent all day, and while she wondered what he was doing, she didn’t feel the need to find him to satisfy curiosity.

  She had walked down to the healing pool during the heat of the day and shed her clothing on the rocks before immersing herself in the clear, bubbling water. This was where they’d brought her to heal from Firewalker’s wrath, and this was where she first laid eyes on Cayetano. His presence had been just as imposing then as it was today and she was proud of him, both as a man and as their chief.

  She lay back in the water, flo
ating freely as she closed her eyes and prayed to give up her fear and heartbreak to the gods who’d set them on this path. She lost all track of time until she heard someone coming up the path. Quickly, she shifted from floating to a standing position, wishing she hadn’t come here alone.

  Moments later, her anxiety ended as Cayetano emerged from the jungle.

  “I have been looking all over for you,” he said gruffly as he shed his clothing, stepped into the water, and then took her into his arms.

  She sighed as he pulled her close. He always made her feel safe. “I came to the healing pool for solace,” she said softly, then gasped softly as his hands slid beneath her backside and lifted her before easing her down onto his erection.

  “I have need of solace, too. We will heal each other,” Cayetano said, and let nature have its way with the both of them.

  Their stolen moments alone were as healing as the love they made together, and by the time they were on their way back to the palace, the sun was going down.

  “This is their last night with us,” Singing Bird said.

  Cayetano’s fingers curled a little tighter around her hand. “As long as I have you, I can bear anything.”

  Singing Bird glanced up, eyeing the profile of the man beside her. His nose had a slight hook to it; making her think of an eagle’s beak. His forehead was wide, his cheekbones sharp and angled toward a strong chin. His long hair was tied into a loop at the back of his neck in the style of the people of Naaki Chava. In a brief moment of connection with her past, she remembered a college history class and seeing a similar profile that had been carved on the stone walls of an ancient Mayan temple. She smiled. Never in a million years would she have ever believed that a man like that would belong to her.

  Cayetano sensed her stare and turned.

  “Why do you smile?” he asked.

  “Because, my chief, you make me happy.”

  “Your smile lights my life, but we need to hurry. It is getting dark and not even your smile will be enough to light the way back.”