Captive Spirit

by Liz Fichera

  “Yes, well, he knows you,” Honovi said. “He had been asking Sinopa—” Honovi stopped himself and then said, “He started asking about you. Seems you made an impression on him. At the river.”

  “Me?” My eyes widened. Was Honovi crazy as well as jealous? “That’s not possible.”

  But Honovi shook his head and sighed.

  And did he really think that I loved Pakuna? The only thing I knew about Pakuna was that his temper was as dreadful as his father’s and his eyes were just as empty. I couldn’t imagine sharing a pit house with him.

  “He’ll be waiting for you when we return. You’ll be expected to finish the Wedding Ceremony.”

  My eyes dropped to our hands as I pretended to study them. I tried not to think of the Wedding Ceremony. And now, with everything that had happened, I’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it would be forgotten. How could any of us return to the way we were?

  “Will you?” He paused, watching me. “Finish it?”

  I turned Honovi’s palm in my hand. His skin was dry and covered with scratches. “I don’t know if that’s up to me, you know that. But I don’t want to. I don’t love Pakuna. I never did.” And how could I tell Honovi that I’ve never loved anyone, not enough to share a sleeping mat like Gaho and Ituha. That kind of love, the intimate kind, frightened me.

  We sat, silent, for the longest time, till Honovi said, “Do you think you could ever love me?”

  I raised my eyes to his. The question was so simple and difficult all at once. Of course I loved Honovi, I loved him all my life. But I also had no idea about the kind of love he wanted. It was the kind that I didn’t understand, not completely, especially since I’d never felt the kind of love that Chenoa felt for Sinopa. That all-consuming kind that takes your breath away.

  Still, Honovi’s eyes continued to search mine, waiting for me to speak. Waiting for an answer.

  He edged closer on the rock so that our knees touched. Carefully, he rested his hand on my shoulder. To steady me? Then without asking his hand traveled to my neck and behind my hair while his eyes never left mine. Then his head titled slightly. There was hopefulness behind his eyes.

  Barely breathing, my eyes closed just as his nose brushed mine.

  Honovi’s nose was warm from the fire and his skin and hair smelled like the wind. I could taste his breath. When his lips met mine, they were as sweet and tender as cactus wine, surprising me. Something odd and warm swept over my entire body the moment our lips touched.

  Too soon, Honovi pulled away and his voice cracked. “Well?” he said.

  I swallowed, hard, considering this. I’d never been kissed before, not like that. It wasn’t what I expected. And then, instinctively, I leaned closer and felt my cheeks flush like the rest of my body. “Can we do that again?”

  Honovi smiled but his tone was serious, more serious than I’d ever heard it. “As long as it takes,” he said. “Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

  The rest of our lives? I wondered how long that would be. If it lasted as long as another kiss, I’d be satisfied.

  ***

  We ate till our stomachs couldn’t hold another morsel of fish or mashed berries. Then we lay alongside each other in the white sand by the water. It was still warm from the sun and fine enough to make a soft bed. A fire burned at our feet as we curled into each other, watching the Sky Wanderers cross the dark sky, listening to the lull of the water.

  My head rested in the cradle of Honovi’s shoulder. I draped my arm across his chest and he let his fingers slowly stroke my arm till our eyes grew too heavy to stay open. His touch had begun to feel natural on my skin, as though we wrapped ourselves around each other all of the time. Maybe that’s how love felt? When a touch seemed as natural as breathing?

  Honovi’s fingertips began to move slowly, and I could tell that he, too, had finally gotten sleepy. Between the rise and fall of his chest and the water rushing across the rocks, I fell easily into a deep sleep, matching him breath for breath.

  The next time I woke, my throat was dry and I was alone.

  “Honovi?” I said, lifting up from my palms. The sand had gotten colder. My breathing was heavy from all the dreaming and I pulled my hair off my face. “Honovi?” I said, blinking into the darkness, seeing nothing, hearing only the waterfall behind me.

  The fire still burned in the round pit at our feet but barely. Only a few orange embers glowed. The moon had already lowered in the sky. And Honovi was missing.

  I patted the sand beside me. The sand where he slept had grown cold. I raised myself higher till I was rolling forward onto my knees. “Honovi? Where are you?”

  My eyes squinted in desperation all around me—toward the water, the clearing, and then back up the side of the mountain where the forest began just past the clearing. The sky was a bottomless black except for a faint silvery glow from the moon which had mostly disappeared. It wouldn’t be much longer till the sun would rise.

  And then a sharp yelp filled the sky.

  A coyote?

  I sprang to my feet. There was no time to wrap the rabbit skins around my feet, and Honovi hadn’t left any weapons. I searched the sand with my hands till I found a rock, a smooth round one that fit inside my hand.

  Quietly, I tiptoed into the darkness. I didn’t know where to start looking so I simply started walking, listening for the coyote.

  The mountain turned quieter the further I walked from the creek. The coyote, if it was a coyote, had grown silent. Somewhere in front of me, I heard rustling, like an animal creeping through the grass. My heart began to race. I hoped it was only a rabbit.

  But the rustle was too loud for a rabbit.

  I wanted to call out again for Honovi but instinctively I remained quiet. I walked carefully, my toes curling over cold rocks and branches. I palmed the rock, ready to hurl it if necessary—or smash it over an animal’s head.

  And where was Honovi? It wasn’t like him to leave me alone. I wondered if he’d wandered into the woods for some privacy and gotten lost.

  Just as I was about to open my mouth to call out, I heard a loud grunt. Then a sharp crack, like a clay pot breaking.

  “Honovi?” I yelled back.

  “Aiyana!” he yelled. “Run!” His voice thundered.

  Run? But run where? My temples pounded. “Are you hurt?” I yelled.

  I swallowed, hard, but kept walking toward his voice, the rock still clutched in my hand. My other hand reached blindly into the darkness. I couldn’t see past my arm.

  Honovi’s voice had come from the forest, I was sure of it. And Honovi was in trouble; I was sure of that, too. I wanted to yell to him that I was near, that I was coming, but I bit down on my lower lip instead.

  As I crossed the clearing, I heard more thrashing. And grunting. Tree branches broke and leaves rustled. Someone was struggling.

  Frantic, I ran toward the noises even though my head told me it was wiser to run in the opposite direction. But with my arms extended in front of me, I raced across the clearing until I reached the forest’s edge. The air grew colder under the trees but I didn’t stop until I heard Honovi’s voice. He was yelling again, louder, and I heard bodies thrashing and slapping, heavy grunting and sighing.

  Bodies fell to the ground, rolling across grass and leaves, before finally crashing against a rock. Or a tree trunk.

  And there wasn’t just one set of grunts; there were two.

  Breathing heavy, I ran toward them with my arm raised. I saw the muted shadows of one thick man crouched over someone longer. I stopped.

  And then I heard another bark. A high-pitched familiar yelp, closer this time. It echoed high into the sky and, before I could react, the animal lunged at me with all four paws.

  I crashed backwards onto a thick patch of grass while he stood over me, his paws resting on my chest. His front claws dug into my deerskin.

  “Lobo!” I screamed, struggling against the weight of his paws.

  Lobo’s barks stopped and he began to lick my fac
e.

  “Stop it!” I said, turning away, but Lobo only licked harder. His tongue managed two fast licks up and down the entire length of my face. I rolled over on the ground from underneath him and then quickly rose to my feet with the rock, miraculously, still clutched in my hand.

  But it didn’t matter.

  “Stupid wolf,” I heard a man snarl. He kicked Lobo in the rump. Lobo yelped and then staggered away into the darkness.

  Diego. It was Diego.

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said, holding back my arm. I was breathing too hard to scream. There was a smile in his voice that made me shiver. I had never expected to hear his silky voice again. He squeezed my wrist until my skin burned. The rock dropped from my hands.

  “Honovi?” I whispered into the darkness. My voice cracked, my chest heaved. “Are you all right?” I heard him thrashing and moaning, like there was something stuffed inside his mouth. My voice turned higher and I turned to Diego. He still held my arm. His icy fingers dug around my wrist. I didn’t see his eyes, only the outline of his wide face.

  My chest tightened. “What have you done to him? What do you want?” I said, still breathing heavy.

  Diego chuckled. “Just coming back to claim what belongs to me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Honovi and I remained tied together beneath a tree until the sun rose.

  Blood streamed down one side of Honovi’s head. Diego didn’t care. In fact, his eyes brightened the more blood that flowed. Honovi did not moan or cry out.

  Diego sat across from us, his legs outstretched, leaning against one of his deerskin sacks.

  “You really made it too easy for me,” he said, flicking the tip of his knife with his fingernail. “Sleeping next to the water. So sweet.” He paused and then arched a black eyebrow. “But so foolish.” His tongue clucked its disapproval.

  Honovi began to breathe faster through his nose at the sound of Diego’s voice while my fists clenched.

  The thought of Diego spying on us made my stomach ball into a knot. If my hands had been free, I would have grabbed his neck. Had he no shame?

  If only we hadn’t slept so soundly. If only we both hadn’t been so exhausted, maybe we could have heard his approach. Honovi, especially, was always so alert. I could tell from the way he glared at Diego that he was angrier at himself.

  “Let her go,” Honovi even said to him. “Take me.”

  My back straightened at the suggestion. “No,” I said. There was no way I would leave Honovi.

  Diego’s eyes got wider. “You?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “She’s a lot more valuable than you, my red friend.”

  Honovi’s wrists rubbed next to mine, just slightly, like he was trying to fray the rope.

  If Diego noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “You did me a favor, ridding me of the others. As a result of your little ambush the other night, there will be more for me once we meet up with the Apache.” He smiled grandly. “And I intend to keep it that way.” But then his smile faded as he paused to purse his lips. “I tell you what. If you survive the trip, I’ll sell you to the Apache, too, if there’s anything left to sell.” His tone was doubtful. Hopeful.

  Honovi’s nostrils flared. “Who are the Apache?” he asked. “Where is their village?” I was surprised by his boldness, given the tight ropes that dug into our wrists.

  Diego rose, stopping midway before standing upright. His eyes widened and my breathing stopped. I wondered if he’d beat us.

  “Probably no one you’ll live to meet,” Diego said finally through gritted teeth.

  Honovi continued to breathe heavily, glaring up at Diego, his skin burning against mine.

  But then Diego’s snarl turned into another smile. He laughed again and brushed off the front of his pants. They were spotted with bits of grass and dirt. “Better pace yourself. Or you’ll be lucky to live beyond the next full moon,” he added before trotting off toward two horses. They were tied to a nearby tree.

  I recognized the giant one, the one with a coat that looked like a night sky bathed in the moon’s glow. He grazed lazily in the tall grass. I thought that Sinopa had set them free in the forest. I never expected to see them again. What kind of beast doesn’t flee when it’s set free?

  Diego caught me studying the horses, my brow furrowed. “They come back, Aiyana,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “Like dogs, they always come back.” He stopped to wink at Honovi.

  I turned away as Diego tended to his horses, humming.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered to Honovi.

  “I’ll be okay,” he said. His eyes struggled to stay open.

  “How did this happen?”

  “He put a dagger to your throat as you slept.” He paused. “He whispered to me that he’d kill you if I didn’t do as he said.”

  I shook my head, imagining his blade piercing my neck, wondering why I hadn’t stirred. “I should have heard,” I muttered, more to myself than to Honovi. “I should have heard something. I could have done something.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He leaned against the tree trunk. “We both were tired. I didn’t hear his footsteps till it was too late. It’s my fault, not yours.”

  “But what about Lobo?” Surely we would have heard a wolf howling. His howls would have alerted an entire forest.

  “He had him tied to this tree with a rope around his snout. All he could do was whimper.”

  “What now?” I said. I looked down at the ropes. There was one wrapped around our stomachs and our hands were tied behind our backs. We kept tugging at the ropes around our wrists but it only tightened the knots. “Has your bleeding stopped?”

  I studied the side of Honovi’s face but he shrugged at my question. The blood had finally dried and his hair was matted above his ear. He kept blinking, like he was trying to clear blurriness from his eyes. “Will you be okay?” I whispered near his ear.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, tugging against the ropes. “I’ve had worse cuts from ball court.” Then under his breath, he said, “We need to break free of these ropes.”

  I nodded. “Yes, I know.”

  “And we will,” Honovi said. “We will.” His face, bruised and swollen, contradicted the confidence in his tone.

  I nodded again anyway and glared at Diego. That’s because I had a few ideas about how to escape but I was certain Honovi wouldn’t approve of any of them.

  ***

  For the next two suns, we climbed the same mountain that I never wanted to see again. We traveled so high that I thought the horses would trot right into the clouds.

  I rode behind Diego on his horse, with my wrists tied together while his other horse rode empty beside us, save the deerskin sacks. Lobo ran ahead, as usual, while Honovi walked behind us with his wrists tied to the end of Diego’s longest rope. Diego tugged on it whenever Honovi walked too slowly. And just because he could.

  “Come on, Savage,” Diego clucked to Honovi. “You ran up here once. Walking up should be easy.” Then he tugged the ropes so that Honovi stumbled. Diego laughed, the cackling echoing eerily all around us. It was like being inside a nightmare again. I had to squeeze my eyes shut, especially when Honovi didn’t yell or moan. Part of me wished he would. I wondered how much more punishment his body could take.

  Because the journey was uphill and mostly rocky, the horses weren’t able to travel fast and for that I was grateful. Honovi had been able to keep up behind us, but barely, as long as Diego didn’t get bored and snap the rope.

  After Diego tired of Honovi, he’d reach into his deerskin sack and pull out his map. He’d look from the map to the mountain, pull on his chin and smile. I tried to see the symbols, but the black lines, mostly smeared, didn’t make any sense.

  And then when Diego studied his map, I’d turn, just slightly, to look at Honovi over my shoulder. He’d smile and nod, as if to assure me that he was okay, but I knew better. I also wondered how a man like Diego—or any man—could be so cruel. He was worse than Miako
da.

  Diego allowed Honovi only a few drops of water, mostly just so that he’d crave more, even when Honovi’s lips turned puffy and cracked. Sometimes Honovi’s eyes would roll back before he’d shake his head, as if he was trying to keep himself from falling asleep. My chest ached each time I looked at him.

  I had to do something.

  The next moonrise we stopped alongside a river and I was able to save Honovi a small bit of fish that I slipped below a stone in the fire. It was mostly black but still edible. Diego tied Honovi to a nearby tree. And when Diego wasn’t looking, I slipped the meat behind my belt. The moment he walked away to check on the horses, I sneaked it to Honovi. Honovi devoured the small morsel in his shaking hands like he’d never eat again. When I slipped him the fish, I also slipped him Sinopa’s flower petals. For strength.

  Honovi took them into his hands and breathed in what little scent was left. Then he kept them hidden in his clenched fist. In his other, he held a shell from my necklace, the one with the sharpest edge, the one that could cut through his rope. I managed to slip it off when I rode behind Diego, just like I did all those times before.

  By the third moonrise, I knew the moment to escape was near. I doubted Honovi would survive till the fourth. And imagining a life without him motivated me to act, even more than Diego’s body curled next to mine like he owned me.

  Diego slept fitfully the third moonrise, mostly because he sipped from a pouch holding clear liquid. It wasn’t water. Whenever I made the slightest movement, even taking a deep breath, he’d stir and hold me tighter, closer. When he woke, he let his hand travel down the front of my dress while I lay motionless. He’d chuckle and moan loud enough for Honovi to hear as his fingertips brushed against my skin. His touch sickened me.

  When the Sky Wanderers had finally dropped below the treetops, Diego began to snore, steady and loud. Carefully, I let my hands reach down below his knees. My wrists were still tied but nothing more. Only moving a breath at a time, I slipped from his arm and slowly stretched my arms lower until my fingertips were just above his ankle. Diego’s odd-looking pants were coarse, not soft like deerskin. They hugged his legs, tighter than the pants worn by the men in our village. Even so, I let my fingers move to the bottom of his pants, near the heel of his boot.