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The Dove (Prophecy Series)

Page 23

by Sharon Sala


  The questions seemed to insult her. She took a step away from him, as if it was now he who smelled the worst.

  “I did not lay with men. I am a healer. I gather... gathered herbs and roots to make medicine for Cayetano and for his family. I made medicine for the Dove called Tyhen, the woman who was born to save our people.”

  “Did they all die? Are you the only one still living?”

  She didn’t say anything for quite a while, and then finally shook her head. “No, they left before the mountain died.”

  He sneered, “If you were so important, then why did they go away and leave you behind?”

  An expression of great sadness washed over her as if she had asked herself that question at least a thousand times without getting a satisfactory answer.

  “I was in the jungle when the earth shook. I fell and hurt my head. I woke, saw my city burned and all people gone. I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. And then the mountain died and I ran. I was still running when your men found me.”

  Yaluk wanted to make fun of her, but he didn’t have the stomach for standing so close to her anymore. “They said that city is dead. Why didn’t you die with it?”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head and they thought she was going to faint, and then she blinked and fixed him with a hard, dark stare. “I have been trying to die every day. It has not happened yet.”

  Yaluk shuddered. That was what he sensed. She wasn’t hurt all that bad. She wasn’t bleeding. She was just done with this world, dying from the inside out.

  He would not lay with her but he was curious. “Who is this dove? How can some bird woman save our people? Why do our people even need saving?”

  Little Mouse glared. “You do not need to know. She is magic. She is pure. You are not the kind of people she came to save.”

  The moment she said magic, Yaluk’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was that the woman who had come into his camp? He had not seen her face, but he was sure he’d seen her shape as she turned to walk away, and there was one aspect of her appearance that would set her apart from any other women. Would this dead woman walking say it? He had to ask.

  “What does this magic woman look like? Is she fat? Is she old? Is she ugly like you?”

  Little Mouse reacted exactly as he hoped. Anger often made people say the truth. “She is young and beautiful with long dark hair and legs that run as fast as the wind. And she is strong. She knocked down a whole crowd of people with only her voice.”

  A chill ran through him. He didn’t like the thought of a woman that powerful being a spirit in his camp.

  “What is this? How does that happen?”

  Little Mouse shrugged. “She stands taller than the men of Naaki Chava and she has magic. Beyond that, I do not know.”

  Yaluk tried not to panic. The spirit woman that he’d seen had been very tall. Why had she been in his camp? Then another thought occurred to him. Did his men just happen to find this Little Mouse in the jungle, who just happened to know the woman with magic, or was she part of a trap set by the witch to weaken him in some way?

  He fingered the talisman Nellie got for him just in case she was a witch, too. “Take her away,” Yaluk said. “I killed my sister for this talisman to keep witches away, and I will not lay with her. She is friends with a witch and she is diseased.”

  Usually the men took turns with the women they brought back after Yaluk was done with them, but if he didn’t want her, they didn’t either.

  “What should we do with her?” Yoji asked.

  Yaluk’s eyes narrowed. He thought about having her killed, but that would be doing her a favor because she was trying to die. Suddenly, a thin smile spread across his face.

  “Let her go,” he said.

  The men were stunned.

  “Let her go? But—”

  “Do you want to lay with her?” Yaluk asked.

  They shook their heads.

  “Do you want to kill a healer who is friends with a witch?”

  And that’s when they got it.

  “No, no, we do not,” they said.

  “Then let her go. Get her out of my sight.”

  Yoji grabbed Little Mouse by the arm and dragged her out of the dugout, then circled the camp just to make sure none of the other men saw her.

  Little Mouse went without argument. She’d already given up her spirit. She was just waiting for her body to die. When they got to the edge of camp, Yoji turned her loose.

  “Go,” he said and waved her away, but she didn’t move.

  “Go now. Yaluk has set you free.”

  Still she didn’t move, and the man was at a loss as what to do. In a way, she was like all of them, homeless and unwanted, and in a rare moment of pity, he handed her his water pouch and a piece of dried fish from his hunting pack.

  “Go, Little Mouse. If you are a healer, you can find another place to belong.”

  Her expression shifted, startled by the kindness. “Go where?”

  He pointed. “Rio Yaqui is that way. To the North, now go.”

  This time she moved, and he stood and watched her stumbling shuffle until she disappeared into the darkness. When it dawned on him that he was in the dark alone, he turned and ran all the way back as if a witch was at his heels.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was relatively quiet inside the cave considering the number of people crowded in it. Johnston Nantay had remarked to his brother that it felt as big inside this cave as it did inside the Superdome the year they’d gone to watch the Super Bowl. Montford started to laugh and then couldn’t bring himself to do it. That life and world were so far away it made him sad to remember it.

  Nobody knew exactly what had happened when Tyhen fell asleep in Yuma’s arms, but she had awakened with very sad and daunting news for them all. The elders who’d stayed because it seemed the safer path to take had been forced, once more, to run from fire.

  On the other side of the cave, Tyhen lay sleepless and staring into the dark. The constant rush of the waterfall covered up the loudest sleep sounds, like people snoring or children crying out in their sleep. The scent of smoke was constant from dwindling fires but not intrusive. The open mouth of the cave was a natural vent.

  She was worried about Evan and sick at heart about the old people who surely had not survived that fiery race. And, she was concerned as to where she and the New Ones went from here. All of this felt off balance. They’d been on their walk for many days now and all they’d done was get themselves in trouble and watch people die. It wasn’t how she’d expected it to begin.

  Yuma was curled up against Tyhen, his arm around her waist. He could tell by the way she was breathing that she wasn’t asleep, but after everything she’d told him, he was just as sleepless. Knowing Wesley Two Bears was dead broke his heart and he knew she felt the same. When she’d taken off her moccasins tonight, he’d seen the tears on her cheeks. She was like a dam, holding back too much pressure. She needed to let it all go.

  So he blew on the back of her neck.

  She rolled over, then put her arms around his neck and buried her face beneath his chin. “So many died,” she whispered.

  He closed his eyes. “I know.”

  “It felt like running from Firewalker again, didn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sad, my Yuma? Is your heart breaking like mine?”

  He held her closer. “Yes, I’m sad. Is this the time, little Dove?”

  She shuddered. “Yes.”

  He laid his cheek against the crown of her head as the first tears rolled out from under his lids.

  “Then we will cry.”

  ****

  Singing Bird was on the hunt for Little Mouse, while still trying to come to terms with the fact that her daughter seemed to have acquired her father’s powers. Evan needed treatment for his wounds and she didn’t have everything in her medicines that he needed, so every group of people that she came to, she would stop and ask.

  “Have y
ou seen Little Mouse? Has anyone seen Little Mouse?”

  And they would reply the same in varying degrees.

  “No, Singing Bird. We have not seen her.”

  “We have not seen her at all.”

  “I saw her the day before the fire.”

  “I have not seen her since my foot was cut back in Naaki Chava,” and the answers went on and on.

  By the time Singing Bird reached the far end of the beach and realized there was no one left to ask, her heart was in her throat.

  Either she died when the city caught fire or died when they were running. They would never have left her behind. She was heartsick when she began to retrace her steps, and by the time she got back to the twins and Cayetano, she was sobbing.

  Cayetano was immediately upset. “What has happened? Why do you cry?”

  She pointed to Evan’s head and then couldn’t catch her breath enough to speak.

  Adam felt the pain and knew. “She can’t find Little Mouse. She’s asked everyone and no one’s seen her.”

  Cayetano turned to his warriors. Nearly all had survived the fire and were gathered around them.

  “Go! Ask everyone here. Don’t miss a single one. Find out if anyone has seen Little Mouse, the healer!”

  They didn’t hesitate as they ran off to do his bidding.

  Singing Bird collapsed at Evan’s feet and then absently patted his knee as she tried to pull herself together.

  “I have some ointment. It won’t be as good as Little Mouse would have, but it will make it quit bleeding, and I have something for you to drink that will help you rest.”

  Evan was still trying to come to terms with the missing parts of his memory and was upset that she was crying.

  “Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt so much,” he said, trying to make her feel better as she dug the ointment from her pack.

  She was making a monumental effort to hide her distress. Many people had died and she knew it. It’s just that Little Mouse and Acat had been the first people she could remember talking to when she woke up in Naaki Chava, and now this horror was mixed up with that sadness. It was too much to think about. She wiped the tears from her face and stood up.

  “As soon as that medicine dries, I will come back and put bandages on your head. For now, you rest. I have to wash this sadness from my body,” she said and headed for the ocean.

  “Wait,” Cayetano said. “You do not go alone.”

  Adam sat with his arm around his brother, watching them go.

  Instead of taking off her clothes when they reached the ocean, she just waded into the surf. Everything on her was filthy. It was the easiest way to get clean.

  Cayetano was more hesitant. The fact that he could not see the end of the water was frightening to him, but he could not let his wife be more daring, and so he stepped into the lapping waves like he was going to war.

  It normal circumstances, it was something the twins would have laughed about, but none of this was a laughing matter.

  Adam nervously eyed the cut on his brother’s head. It needed stitches, but there was no way to make that happen here. And then he remembered something he’d seen Little Mouse do for a boy in Naaki Chava. He knew what he needed, just not how to get them.

  “Evan?”

  Evan blinked slowly. “What?”

  “I need to go find something for your head. Will you promise to stay right here until I get back?”

  Evan nodded, then rolled over on the mat and closed his eyes, too miserable to move.

  Adam hailed one of the chief’s warriors as he stood. “Watch him for me. Whatever you do, don’t let him leave. I won’t be long.”

  The warrior nodded, and Adam took off through the crowd at a jog. He was looking for some of the New Ones, especially the older women who liked to work beads. He’d seen them decorating their ceremonial clothing with quills and beads made from bone. If anyone had what he needed, it would be them.

  It didn’t take long to find them. Once they’d outrun the fire and reached the ocean, they’d chosen to gather in families. He knew who to look for and soon spied them sitting knee to knee in a small close-knit circle.

  “Lucy... Alice... it is good to see your faces. I had no hopes when this race began that any of us would survive,” he said.

  The two women each shared a frightening moment then asked about Evan.

  “Evan was hurt. He has a very deep cut on his head and I am looking for something to close it. Did either of you bring your beadwork with you? I ask because I need porcupine quills and I know that you use to decorate your ceremonial robes.”

  The two women began digging through their packs.

  Adam dropped to his knees beside them, his hands shaking as he waited.

  “Here!” Alice cried as she pulled out a small packet and unwrapped it in her lap.

  At the same time, Lucy found hers and did the same.

  “You are welcome to take what you need,” she said.

  The quills were not of equal length or size. Adam picked up a couple of the smaller ones thinking they would tear the flesh less when he pushed them into Evan’s skin. He tested the points and the length, trying to guess how many he should take to close the gash and then how many extra in case some of them broke.

  “Would you let us help you?” Lucy offered.

  “You mean you would come and help me close the cut?’

  They looked at each other then back at him.

  “We sew beads on clothing. We can sew two pieces of skin together as well.”

  The notion of using porcupine quills to hold the flesh together was no longer an issue.

  “And you have tools to make this happen?” he asked.

  They held up small, thin needles made from the bones of tiny birds, and then spools of fine thread they had woven from the cotton grown in the Naaki Chava fields.

  “This is wonderful!” he said. “Yes, yes, you can help me.”

  They gathered their things and followed him to where Evan was sleeping.

  The women knelt beside Evan, one at his head, the other at his right side, as Adam moved to the left to wake him up.

  “Evan! Wake up, my brother.”

  Evan opened his eyes. “Am I dead?”

  “No. But your head is cut open and these good women are going to help me sew it shut.”

  Evan blinked. “Will it hurt?”

  Adam nodded.

  Evan sighed. “I already hurt all over. It cannot be that much worse.”

  The women pointed.

  “There is sand in the cut. It needs to be washed clean.”

  Adam quickly ran to the water’s edge filled a cup with water.

  Singing Bird saw him and came out of the water.

  “What are you doing? Evan can’t drink that.”

  “No, no, not to drink. I found two women who will close the cut on Evan’s head. They want to wash the sand away first.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Singing Bird said. “I’ll be right there.”

  Adam hurried back and began to work.

  Evan winced as Adam diligently cleaned the wound, then looked up at Alice and Lucy.

  “It is clean again. When you finish, I will put on more of Singing Bird’s medicine. She’ll be here shortly. I told her what we were doing.”

  Evan looked at the women.

  One was older with much gray in her hair and the other was younger, but had a crippled foot. He could not imagine how they had survived that race through the fire, yet they had. They must be brave. He could be no less.

  The older one patted his arm.

  “My name is Lucy,” she said. “This is Alice. We will be as gentle and as quick as we can.”

  “My name is Evan. I will not move. I will not cry.”

  Adam did a double-take. Bravery was not part of Evan’s personality, or at least it hadn’t been before. So it would seem they were both changing. First had come the emotions, something of which they had never previously succumbed, and now bravery? Would mirac
les never cease?

  Adam grabbed his brother’s hand.

  “Just look at me, brother. This time tomorrow it will only be a memory.”

  “One of my first,” Evan muttered. “I seem to have forgotten most of everything else.”

  Adam blinked. Dry wit and bravery? That blow on the head had turned his brother into a stranger.

  Singing Bird came back as they were about to begin, still feeling guilty for losing her composure. She was soaking wet and dripping sea water, but she was her old self again. She dropped to her knees at Evan’s feet.

  “My sweet, brave son. This will be over before you know it.”

  Believing she would have to help hold him down, she clasped Evan’s ankles, then nodded at the women as they began.

  Their fingers were quick, their stitches sure. They didn’t linger with the pressure, or make an apology every time their needles went into Evan’s flesh.

  His face lost all color, but he never flinched. By the time they were halfway done, he was shaking. His jaw was clenched and there were tiny streams of blood coming from the places where the needles had pierced his flesh, but he had not uttered a sound.

  Adam felt every shaft of pain that Evan suffered and it was all he could do to stay quiet. His admiration for his brother’s strength of spirit had undergone a huge change.

  Singing Bird was still gripping Evan’s ankles, but no longer because she thought he would move. She was keeping track of his pulse. It was rapid but steady, and stronger than she expected.

  “They are almost through,” she said as the women took their last two stitches, then pulled the thread through the flesh, tied the last knot, and then cut it with their teeth.

  “It is done,” Lucy said.

  “You were very brave,” Alice added.

  Evan took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you. When I am well, I will help you build your new homes.”

  They smiled and giggled, imagining one of Cayetano’s shamans building a house, then gathered up their things and left.

  “You were so strong, my brother. I am proud of you,” Adam said.

  Singing Bird rocked back on her heels and then stared at Adam. There was blood coming from his head in the same places as where the needles had pierced his brother’s flesh.

 

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