"Who are we?" Darien's voice held a wonder that Melodi shared. "You were beautiful before, but now I cannot resist you. These clothes, the hair, everything is different but it all suits you so perfectly." He caressed her long, glossy black hair and plucked at the colored porcupine quills that decorated her soft tanned leather dress.
"In this time, and I can't pretend to understand how, or more importantly why, I am Little Raccoon. You are Walks With The Wind. For now, at this moment, it is enough." Melodi pulled Darien back to her parted lips. A hunger as old as time moved in her, he alone could ease it.
Darien nodded. As he rested his hand on her thigh, a shout rang through the air. They sat up and pulled apart. A young woman, dressed as Melodi was, ran toward them. She beat Darien about the head and shoulders with a pine bough.
"Get away from her. If you are found together like this you'll get more than a beating," the young woman yelled.
The lovely newcomer calmed herself and threw the branch away. Darien had regained his composure, except for the telltale lump under his breechclout that was proof that his desire simmered. He remained unmoved during the girl's tirade, his face a mask of stony indifference. Now, he moved closer to Melodi, but the younger woman stepped between them.
"No, Little Raccoon. Didn't you tell him you are in mourning for your husband? It has not been three months since evidence of his death was discovered. You must not be alone with a man for another nine moons. Not until the next Maple Sugar moon can you lie with a man." The girl spoke to Melodi as if explaining something complicated to a very young child. She ignored Darien. "Come back to the village. Aunt needs you."
"Walks With The Wind must come with us," Melodi insisted. "You misunderstand what you saw, Sister." She knew this was her sister, but couldn't explain how the information came to her. "He came upon me while I was trying to untangle my feet from a snare. I fell. You saw him help me up. That is all."
Darien's lips twitched. She hated to tell a lie, yet some kind of deception was called for. No one in her own time or this time would believe how she and Darien had gotten here.
Shining Rock, her sister's name came to her in a flash of memory, turned her glance to Darien. Fear warred with relief on her face, relief won.
"My eyes were deceived then, Sister." Shining Rock turned to Darien. "Thank you for helping my sister. Perhaps you would join us at our father's wigwam and share a meal."
"Thank you." Darien followed Shining Rock, whose arm was securely fastened through Melodi's. They walked along a narrow path through the woods.
Sunlight dappled the leaves around them. The path was familiar to Melodi.
Just as she stepped out of the woods into a clearing two men sprang on Darien. Melodi heard the rustle as they leapt from the sheltering tree trunks. The sound of the wooden club on Darien's head echoed in her own.
Unable to stop herself, Melodi stumbled and fell, striking her head on a stone. Blackness came. From somewhere she could "hear" Darien speaking to her, but his voice was garbled and indistinct.
When she awoke, she was surrounded by strangers.
* * * *
"Grandfather, I can't wake Melodi."
Darien recognized Joe Larkfeather's voice. It trickled through his mind, dreamlike.
His head hurt. The last thing he remembered was getting hit on the head, then seeing Melodi fall ahead of him.
What had Joe said? He struggled to open his eyes. The gnarled face of an elderly gentleman examined him. Wise eyes bored deeply before Darien had a chance to set up his usual reserve. His soul was bared to this ancient man. Darien hoped he passed the test. This must be Joe's much revered grandfather.
The old man nodded and helped Darien to a sitting position on the couch. Melodi sat beside him. He remembered the tune and how they had held hands when they first felt the fog of time moving around them. The rest was fuzzy. He didn't like that. Melodi, staring unseeing at the now cold fireplace, unnerved him.
Darien shook his head, struggling to remember. Ah -- he was Walks With The Wind. Yes, now it came back to him with piercing clarity. He remembered Shining Rock and the braves who had jumped him. Somehow he had made it back to this time. From the concerned expression on Joe's face, and the frowning creases on his grandfather's, he guessed that Melodi had not.
His head throbbed as he tried to accept the fact that he and Melodi had actually been in another time, sharing a different life. He had to accept it otherwise Melodi's near catatonic state was his future too. Somehow time had become skewed for him and Melodi. Some element that was determined by this place and their presence had sent them back in time, and only brought him back.
Now what?
A hand on his shoulder stopped his panicky musings. Comfort and strength flowed from the gnarled fingers of Joe's grandfather. Sympathy communicated itself. Darien knew he would have help in bringing Melodi home.
"Tell me, Son," Grandfather said. "Don’t leave anything out." His voice echoed the strength of a young eagle, mocking the obvious age he carried.
Darien started with everything that he and Melodi had done since he had talked to Joe on the telephone. Grandfather listened, motionless. Joe sat unmoving on the other side of Melodi until Darien finished his narrative.
"Joe, fix us some food. We will need much strength for the task ahead," Grandfather directed his grandson.
Joe put a blanket over Melodi before leaving the room.
Grandfather stirred the ashes in the fireplace, then plunged his hand directly into the heart of the gray flakes. When he pulled his hand out, a red ember glowed in his leathery palm. Grandfather's mouth moved, his eyes closed as if in prayer. After he finished he reverently placed the ember back into the fireplace and fed it bits of bark and pine needles until a small flame grew. Grandfather motioned for Darien to help him feed the flame a slow meal. They started with small sticks and worked up to larger logs until their shared effort restored the blaze.
Nodding his approval, Grandfather motioned for Darien to sit on the floor in front of the fire. The old man joined him there. They sat at Melodi's feet, but she was more of a decoration than a living part of the room.
Her open-eyed gaze stirred a sense of responsibility in Darien. He must help her find her way back. The brief minutes spent holding Melodi in his arms had revealed a well of ancient feelings in him for her. A door opened in his heart. He'd just played at love until that moment. Nothing real had happened to his heart until that moment when she had opened herself to him.
He had to get her back, no matter the cost.
"Do you mean that, son? For the cost may be high, your soul might be required to restore the balance of time."
Grandfather spoke as if he could see into Darien's head. After all that had happened, Darien wasn't about to question the man's probing. He accepted the old man's ability and hoped it would help.
"I know now that she and I are linked, soul to soul. There's a burning emptiness where my heart should be." Darien spoke with a sincerity he didn't know he possessed. Embarrassed at the depth of his feeling, he turned his face from Grandfather. When he looked again, approval showed in the older man's eyes. Darien's discomfort fled.
"You must return to the earlier time and reset the balance there. I will lend you my strength, but the main effort will be yours. Have you a strong faith, son?"
Darien thought for a moment. When was the last time he'd entered a church? He couldn't remember and looked for the gap in the fabric of his being. Instead of a hole, a vision of Melodi and Little Raccoon, each transposed upon the other, appeared in his mind. He believed in them. Before tonight's episode he'd been coming close to seeing the glow of something intangible in Melodi. Something that called to him. He'd fought it.
Did he believe in the power of love? "I'm not sure," he whispered.
"It is a good thing not to be arrogantly sure," Grandfather said. "Your hesitance lends credibility to your true feelings. Pray it will be enough."
Joe entered with a laden tray. He pla
ced it between his grandfather and Darien. Darien was ravenous. How long had he been away? Long enough for the fire to burn out. Long enough for Melodi's skin to cool. Panic touched him for an instant. Was she --?
"No, Son, she is not dead. Her body rests here while her soul walks in the other place. She must return soon or she never will be able to. Are you ready to go back?"
Darien swallowed the last bite of food on his plate. "Yes, but how do I bring her home?"
"The tune will show you the way. My spirit helper will guide you. Come to the piano and play this tune which has the power to transport you. First," Grandfather gripped Darien's hand. Electricity leaped between them at the contact, "have faith in yourself."
* * * *
What a pretty tune, Little Raccoon's hands halted their work on the basket. She tipped her head to listen. The thick, hide- covered bark of her father's wigwam muffled the sound. Someone is practicing his courting music, she mused with a smile and turned her attention back to her task.
After the long, hard winter the young people were ready to move towards marriage. Her period of mourning for her husband, Young Buck, was almost over. Only one more moon, then she could smile and flirt and allow herself to be wooed. If she wanted. A sigh escaped her lips as the tune floated in and out with the draft from the deerskin door.
She knew her family thought she ached for Young Buck. In truth she had learned to hate the man during their short marriage. If only he had left her with a child, maybe she could have mourned him with more sincerity. As it was, she could only go through the motions. Her family was puzzled. As they should be, her pride gave answer. Never had she let them see the scars on her back from his willow whips.
In the night, he had come to her and taken her like an animal. He'd never entered her with the caring and gentleness that she'd expected. She had learned to stifle her pain so as not to wake the others who shared the wigwam. If she couldn't be silent, she had turned her moans of pain into sounds that anyone would interpret as sounds of pleasure.
Now she had a second chance to find a husband who would treat her with the respect she deserved. She would settle for nothing less this time, or for nothing at all.
Again the strains of melody drifted to her.
I wonder if that one is looking for Shining Rock? She smiled. Her younger sister had blossomed into full womanhood over the past twelve moons. Many a young man had fallen over his own feet at a glance or word from Little Raccoon's lovely sister.
The sound stopped as Shining Rock entered the wigwam. She paused to warm her hands over the small fire and then settled herself next to Little Raccoon with the container of dried berries in her hands.
The sisters had always shared a warm friendship, even though they were seven years apart in age. Shining Rock was the only one who knew of her sister's humiliation at her husband's hands. She didn't speak of it. Not only did they share the same lean limbed, fair-faced good looks, they also shared a sense of family pride. Shining Rock knew how to keep a secret, but from the look in her eyes this was not the time to tease.
"You look worried again, Sister," Little Raccoon observed. "Are our winter stores so empty then?"
"No. Even though we are close to the moon when the maple sap starts to rise and new life again comes to our land we have plenty."
Shining Rock put her work aside. She held Little Raccoon's hands. "You dreamt again last night. I heard you speak out in your sleep. Why do you speak in a strange tongue? You cried. I saw the tears on your cheeks when the fire flared ever so little. Even now, with a hard winter nearly gone and a spring when you may be married again, I sense despair in you. I do not understand."
Little Raccoon remained silent. There was no need to comment, everything Shining Rock said was true. Ever since her accident last summer she'd been haunted by a sense of loss and loneliness that often consumed her. She fought it by staying busy. Pushing herself to make intricate baskets that required her full attention, helping keep the youngest of her cousins amused and busy during the short, cold days, and caring for her aging grandparents had all been in the hopes that hard work would send her into dreamless sleep. To no avail. Night after night sounds and pictures of a world that seemed tilted out of a nightmare haunted her.
A man waited for her in her dreams. The dark haired, blue eyed man was always there. He reached for her, or pleaded with her in a language she did not understand.
Last night he was so close she could almost feel the heat of his hand on her arm as she turned to run. At the last minute, he grabbed her. She believed he meant to drag her into his insane spirit world. Before he could the world melted into a wash of red, the color of fresh blood. Then blackness surrounded her, becoming the commonplace darkness of the night.
Little Raccoon put a hand on her forehead. The ache had returned. It coursed through her skull, dull and throbbing with an insistence that defied the common cures of the village shaman. The only thing that old man could do was give her an infusion of herbs that helped her sleep. The dreamless slumber left her pain free, but bereft of the comfortable confusion her recurring dream brought.
Though she knew it to be an effort made in vain, Little Raccoon tried to shrug it off. "I am well, Sister, but tired of the Winter One. Though I know the cold months are necessary, I long for the warmth of returning spring. Then we can go to the shore of the big waters and eat fresh shellfish again."
Shining Rock nodded. "The hunters are ready to move also. Game grows scarce here. Father said we may move back down to the big lake before this moon is over."
Little Raccoon frowned. "Isn't that where I hit my head last year? I remember being frightened when I woke and didn't recognize my family around me."
"Yes. We return to the same place we stay every year to catch the fish returning to the rivers during their spawning." A slight hesitation, then Shining Rock asked, "What else do you remember about that time?"
"You were there. We've talked about this until I'm tired of the subject." Little Raccoon stood. "It is time to start the evening meal. Father brought this fine hare from his snare earlier today. I will prepare it."
Accepting her sister's turn from the subject, though not happy about it, Shining Rock took a birch bark container and went to fetch water. The camp nestled in a sheltered glade among steep hills. It was a short walk to the spring which bubbled ice-free all winter long -- one of the reasons this place was a favorite spot for a mid-winter hunting camp.
The season was turning. Shining Rock smelled the subtle shift in the air. It meant that soon the ice would melt from the lakes, green buds would appear on the trees.
When the maple sap was boiled to sugar, Little Raccoon could take a husband. If she wished.
Shining Rock sighed into the stiff breeze. Even if Little Raccoon had forgotten the events of that strange day in late summer, Shining Rock was unable to. The sight of her recently widowed sister in the arms of a stranger had sent the strength of panic to her feet. That man, so tall and muscular, with eyes as blue as the lake on a brilliant fall day, had disappeared. Her cousins had taken him from behind. One of them, over zealous, had hit him on the head. Little Raccoon had fallen, too. In the breath of time that Shining Rock and her cousins had turned their attention to Little Raccoon, the stranger had vanished. Her cousins had searched in vain for tracks in the damp ground. They'd found nothing.
The village shaman called the stranger a magician. Perhaps he'd been sent by Glooskap to trick us, or test us. Many were the tales told around the fire on a winter's night of Glooskap. How he would appear as a stranger and, if treated with respect and kindness, would shower the giver with a wish. If indeed it had been the ancient god, they had treated him shabbily.
Shining Rock placed the two containers underneath the slow but steady trickle of water. She'd been afraid when Little Raccoon had finally awoken and had known none of them. Not her, not their aunts, uncles, or cousins who were visiting. Not even their father. Instead she kept calling out in an unknown tongue to someone unseen, y
et real to her.
Little Raccoon was more like her old self these days, more a part of the camp's daily life, but a deep sadness remained. Shining Rock knew how hard she tried to hide it. To most of the others Little Raccoon succeeded. Not with Shining Rock, not from her sister who had managed to learn the secret of Little Raccoon's unhappy marriage.
The dreams were a part of Little Raccoon's sadness. She always lingered in sleep when she dreamt of the strange land and called out in the unknown tongue. That's when Shining Rock really feared for her sister. What if someday she did not wake up? Would she dwell in that dreamland forever, between life and death?
Shining Rock shuddered. Even though Little Raccoon had pleaded with her not to tell anyone about these dreams, Shining Rock knew that soon she must take counsel with her father or the shaman. If a spirit haunted Little Raccoon, it must be sent away. Or, if it was Glooskap in disguise, perhaps he could be welcomed back.
Yes, she decided as she hoisted the now dripping containers and turned back towards the group of wigwams, she would speak to her father tonight after the evening meal. Little Raccoon had made a habit of late of visiting with their elderly aunt. She would be out of earshot.
A twig snapped behind Shining Rock. She swung to face the noise and nearly lost her load of water as Tall Cedar stepped from the cover of the trees. He was easy to look on, Shining Rock thought with a secret smile. His shoulders carried a large buck with ease though it must have been heavy. Any hunter would be full of pride in bringing such a prize for the village. Tall Cedar strode past Shining Rock, perhaps standing just a little straighter as she stepped aside to let him by on the narrow trail.
Soon perhaps, she would hear the sound of Tall Cedar's flute playing for her. She'd been in love with him since they were children playing naked in the pine-needled woodland. They would make many children together.
Chapter Nine
"We shall eat well tonight," Little Raccoon welcomed Shining Rock as she arrived at the wigwam. She couldn't help but notice the pink cheeks and look of pride with which her little sister favored Tall Cedar.
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