by A. R. Cook
David’s jaw dropped open, and he stuttered for a moment. “N-no, no, that’s … I’m here on a mission. My friend is dying, which no medicine can cure. I need your help.”
The shaman nodded. “I see. If there is no medicine to cure your friend, then what is it that you seek?”
“We were told there might be something called a …” David paused, glancing back at Gullin. The Huntsman tilted his head in the shaman’s direction, as a sign for David to continue. The young man swallowed before he spoke again. “Do you know of the Singing Stones?”
Everyone in the tent was quiet for a long time. The shaman narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin as he scrutinized the boy from head to toe. The hunters looked back and forth between each other, and some of them put their hands on the knives tucked into their belts.
Eventually the shaman rested his hands in his lap. “Where have you heard of this?”
“I saw it in a dream,” David answered, but he thought that explanation sounded childish. “I mean, I was shown a vision …” He stopped, thinking this sounded even more ridiculous, but the shaman’s eyebrows lifted.
“Ah, a vision.” A smile crept into the multitude of wrinkle lines of the shaman’s face. “Visions can be very important. But what you may believe is a vision could be a trick. Perhaps it was just a dream.”
“No, this was real. This isn’t a trick,” David insisted. “I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t believe it was true.”
The shaman contemplated David’s earnest reply. He spoke to the hunters, and they cut off the bindings around David and Gullin’s wrists. The hunters left except for one, who remained at the opening of the tent, his eyes locked on the two strangers.
“Sit,” the shaman invited, and David and Gullin complied. “Perhaps you have been guided here by the great spirits. Or you may have been taught to be spies to gain our trust. But there would be very few who could have told you about the stones. Where do you come from?”
David made an uncomfortable laugh. “To be honest, sir, I have been so many places in the last few days, I’m not sure how to answer your question.”
The shaman turned to Gullin. “Are you this boy’s guardian?”
Gullin smirked. “Only by circumstance.”
“How did you come to our land?”
David and Gullin both hesitated, wondering if the shaman would actually believe the truth. If he didn’t believe them, would he ask the hunter behind them to dispatch them? Finally, David replied, “We were guided here through the Curtain by a badger.”
Gullin stifled a laugh at David’s oversimplified answer.
“The Curtain?” the shaman asked.
“It’s …” David pursed his lips as he tried to think of how to explain. “It’s the pathway between this world and …another one. Or several other ones, I don’t know.”
The shaman was intrigued. “You were led here from the spirit world by a guide in the form of a badger?”
David blurted out, “Yes, exactly,” before he even knew what he was saying.
The shaman nodded slowly. “We of the Lakota believe that every man is born with a spirit guide. You were led here by the badger, the animal of courage and healing. I believe you are telling the truth about your quest. However, no one may find the Singing Stones. They have been lost to man for a long time.”
David felt his heart sink, but he wouldn’t be defeated that easily. “I was told the stones belong to an earth spirit. Do you know about this spirit?”
“There are many spirits of the earth,” the shaman replied. “They live in the soil, the grass, the food we grow. They protect the balance of all things, and protect both man and animal. Yet if the Great Mystery believes it best for man to be kept from the Stones, then that is its will, not ours.”
“The Great Mystery?” David remembered a similar term he had recently heard. “Is that like The Great Mother that Protects Us?”
The shaman was quiet again for a moment. “Was this also in your vision?”
“No, a bison told us.” David caught himself again. “I know that sounds silly, but—”
“You speak to the bison?” the shaman asked. A look of dawning realization passed over his face. “Ptesan-Wi.”
“Te-san-what?” Gullin asked.
“Ptesan-Wi, the blessed White Calf. The one who passes between the bison and the people. Long ago, she taught the Lakota many of our tribe’s rituals and bestowed on us the chanunpa so we may worship the Great Mystery.” The shaman sighed with satisfaction. “Your spirit guide has brought you here to seek Ptesan-Wi, so she may show you the way to heal your friend.”
“Where can we find this Ptesan-Wi?” David asked, leaning forward.
The shaman frowned. “The White Calf is the most holy of all creatures. It is not a matter of finding her as one would hunt the deer or rabbit. You must be pure and strong of heart. Those who displease Ptesan-Wi will be destroyed by her.”
Gullin mumbled under his breath, “In other words, like any woman.”
“Do not insult the White Calf,” the shaman warned. He turned back to David. “You must go out into the forest and have another vision. Let the badger spirit guide you. You must go without food or water or weapon. Once you have shed the trappings of the body, then you can see with your soul. Ptesan-Wi may reveal herself to you. If she does, you must not approach her. You must allow her to show you the path.”
“How long might that take?” David asked.
“There is no telling. It could be many days.”
“But I don’t have that kind of time! My friend could be dead by then!”
The shaman’s face was emotionless, although it was hard to tell past the layers of creases in his skin. “If it is the Great Mystery’s will that your friend becomes one with all things, then there is no course of action you can take to prevent it.” He turned his head towards Gullin. “It is tradition that this journey be taken alone. You may stay here until your ward returns.”
“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Gullin retorted. “This pup can’t take three steps without something trying to kill him. My job is to make sure he comes back alive. Where he goes, I go.”
The shaman sighed. “You may accompany him into the forest. When he receives the first signs of his vision, then he must go on alone.”
Gullin frowned, but he nodded. He stood up, dusting off his trousers. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s go.”
“One more thing before you go,” the shaman interjected. He beckoned David to him with a welcoming wave of his hand. David went to him, kneeling down and bringing his ear close to the shaman’s lips. “Remember to listen very closely to everything around you, and its meaning will become clear,” he advised. “You may even discover the meaning of the flowers.”
David looked into the shaman’s eyes, stunned. The wise man grinned.
The Lakota hunters escorted David and Gullin out of the village and across the expanse of plain, until they came to the edge of the forest. There, the two companions dismounted their horses and walked off into the thick wood, only David glancing back over his shoulder at the Lakota who watched them go.
“You don’t suppose they’ll come after us, as part of a test?” David wondered.
“I doubt that they’d go through the trouble,” Gullin replied. “There are plenty of things out here that can kill us as is. I’m sure they don’t think we’ll return.”
David’s breath grew rapid, as he took in the forest around him. It reminded him of his walk in the forest of Kyoto: tranquil but uneasy, as anything could be crouched in wait behind the foliage. He had read of bears, wolves, cougars, and other vicious American beasts. While all this should have seemed minute compared to creatures he had seen from the Curtain, he didn’t have his dagger or Acacia to help him.
The two tramped along through the wilderness for hours in complete silence, save David’s occasional attempts at starting a conversation that fell flat after a sentence or two. He was not sure how deep into the wood
s they were supposed to go, or if they walked all the way through, should they turn around and head back? Or were they meant to keep hiking until their feet fell off? Of course, they would probably starve before that would happen, or be eaten by something else.
He noticed that the daylight was rapidly fading, and a chill was settling down on them. “Maybe we should start looking for a place to set up camp,” he suggested.
“Set up a camp with what?” Gullin asked.
David frowned. “All I’m saying is, if we see a good area where we wouldn’t be too vulnerable to animal attack, we should spend the night there. But let’s talk more about the oracle. Maybe we can figure it out a little better before we find Ptesan-Wi.”
Gullin shrugged. “If we find her.”
“Of course we will. We have to.”
“You’re a lad full of optimism, aren’t you?” Gullin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Because this is like one of your la-de-da stories. You’re the hero, and you’ll get a happy ending. Heaven forbid you’re wrong, and we don’t find this Singing Turquoise. It has to be that easy for you, being the special one.”
David snagged Gullin by the shoulder, tugging him to a halt. “That’s enough. I understand, all right? When we find Ptesan-Wi, you ask for the stone. You have to be the one that saves Acacia. The oracle said as much.” David’s gaze dropped to the ground, and he kept walking.
Gullin walked behind him. “I’ve given your theory some thought. Why do you think that just because I have a tattoo of a lily on my arm, that the oracle was talking about me?”
“What else could it be talking about? ‘The one you seek bears a lily white.’ It seems on the nose to me.”
“Too on the nose, don’t you think? And that’s not what the oracle said.”
“Yes it—” David paused, taking a moment to recall the vision. “The one you seek bears …”
“The scent of the lily white. I don’t exactly smell like a flower, boyo.”
“Who does, then?”
It took Gullin several seconds to answer, as if he didn’t want to tell what he was thinking. “There’s a reason why the Master Huntsmen chose the white lily as a symbol in our crest. A lily stands for purity and innocence, to be borne by those pure of heart and soul. Acacia has her ways of knowing who’s a good soul and who’s not. I’m thinking, mibbae she can even smell such goodness in humans. She might be able to sniff out a boy who’s pure of heart. A boy who smells so pure, he drew her to him while she was trying to return a pilfered purse.”
David stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t have been more floored than if he had been kicked by a horse. “That night at the inn! You think she was sniffing me, because she thinks I smell pure of heart? Am I the one the oracle was talking about? That could be what it meant! If Ptesan-Wi only reveals herself to those who are pure of heart, then she might show herself to me. I can save Acacia!”
His excitement was quickly quelled as Gullin’s glare silenced him. The Huntsman turned away and kept on walking. David tried to think of something to say, but came up empty.
The two traveled on in silence for a while.
“Maybe it’s not me,” David said. “I mean, it’s only a theory.”
Gullin didn’t reply.
“Leave it, then. We already know it’s the Singing Turquoise we need, and we’ll get it. The oracle could’ve been about you, or me, and we’re both here so either way one of us will find the stone.”
No response.
David continued on. “So the second flower isn’t a literal flower, from what I can tell. It’s a promise, but then why does the oracle refer to it as a golden flower? Maybe it’s a term that has a floral name. Like a ‘forget-me-not.’ It might mean a promise for someone not to forget something, or someone. Or it could mean a certain symbolism associated with flowers, like beauty or femininity. It could be a promise of something beautiful.”
“You think too hard, boyo,” Gullin mumbled.
David leapt easily over a tree root, and leaned against the tree. “If you have another theory you would like to offer, by all means, share it.”
Gullin paused, looking over at the boy. “What is the most powerful promise someone can make, lad?”
David was surprised by the question. “Most powerful?”
“A promise so strong, so great, that it can give someone incredible strength, even to battle death?” Gullin crossed his arms, staring David down.
“I … I’m not sure what you mean. A promise that can fight death?” He crinkled his face as he pondered. “A promise of … immortality?”
Gullin slapped his hand to his forehead. “For the love of Pete! I’m asking the only hot-blooded young buck on earth who wouldn’t know the answer to this. That’s what comes from spending time with all those books, and no lasses.”
David found Gullin’s remark ridiculous. “I’ve spent plenty of time with ‘lasses’! I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Love, boyo! A promise of love!” Gullin was positively fuming, but David couldn’t imagine why. “And you’ve already given one, without knowing it, of course.” The Scotsman sat down on a fallen tree trunk, resting his hands on his knees.
“What are you …” David’s eyes widened. “You mean, to Acacia? When I named her? But … that wasn’t intended as a promise of love. I was just giving her a name.”
“Aye, and what did you name her after?”
“A …” David’s jaw would have dropped clear down to his shoes, if it had been possible. “A flower. A golden flower.”
“And that name has strengthened her. She’s put up a bigger fight against the Shade in the last few days than I’ve ever seen her do before. So let’s review, yes? She smelled the goodness in you. You gave her a name that she accepted. I’m fairly sure the oracle wasn’t about me.”
David rested his back against the tree, trying to organize his thoughts. He closed his eyes, and remained very still. He listened as a bird cried overhead, and as the wind rustled the leaves above. Yet this “listening” that the shaman had advised wasn’t making him feel enlightened. In fact, he felt more confused than ever. Had Gullin already figured out all three parts of the riddle? Was he not telling David something? Had he known the whole time about what each “flower” was?
“Bast.”
David was brought back from his contemplation by Gullin’s soft-spoken word. “What?”
“Bast was the Egyptian cat goddess. She was highly revered and one of Egypt’s most important deities.” Gullin clasped his hands together, bringing them to his chin, as if in prayer. “That was the name I offered her.”
The birds and the wind went silent at that instant, or so it seemed in David’s mind. “You gave her a name? So, her real name is Bast?” A strange emotion gripped David, one that he couldn’t tell was relief or dismay. “So you promised yourself to her first …”
“I said I offered her that name. I didn’t say she accepted it.”
“She can reject a name?”
“Why should she have to accept it, if she doesn’t like it?”
“But …how do you know she rejected it? She couldn’t come right out and say it.”
Gullin’s lip curled. “I told you, she and I used to chat regularly in our sleep. Frankly, I would’ve rather taken a claw gouging to the face than to hear her say ‘no.’” He threw his hands up in casual defeat. “But, hey, there’s no taming a lady’s heart if it doesn’t want to be caught, eh?”
David was once again thrown speechless. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Gullin.”
“What are you sorry for?” Gullin picked up a stick lying at his feet and twiddled with it. “Guess I should have given her the name of a flower. Had I known that’s what that oracle meant the first time she told it to me, I would’ve named her after any flower she wanted.”
“So you did know about the oracle already!” The mechanizations in David’s brain processed what Gullin had just said. “She told you about the oracle?
She didn’t tell me about it. In fact, she said she didn’t know how to do anything about the Shade.” He couldn’t help but feel betrayed by this revelation. “Why would she tell you about the oracle, and not me?”
Gullin shrugged.
“That means she thought you were the one the oracle was talking about,” David concluded.
“Guess that’s why she let me stay with the family to begin with. I think she was sure I was the one she was looking for.” He shoved his sleeve down over his crest, as if the tattoo suddenly gave him shame. “Guess she lost faith in me after a while, when there was nothing I could do to get rid of that Shade. I can kill any other evil creature on earth, but not that.”
Prickles nipped on the nape of David’s neck. He suddenly did not want to be alone in the woods with this man, who was looking at him like he wanted to slice his throat. “Still, she told you the oracle, and never told me. If Acacia changed her mind and thinks I’m the one the oracle is talking about, then why did she not tell me?”
Gullin’s fists were clenched so tightly, his hands were turning white. “Been trying to figure that one out myself. Best I can figure is because of the oracle’s last line. She didn’t mind me knowing it, guess because she doesn’t care what happens to me in the end. She must feel a tad different about you.”
“The last line?” David was quiet as he recited the last few lines of the oracle in his head. “The last line said, ‘The Shade shall be imprisoned in stone.’ What’s so unsettling about that? That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Gullin cocked an eyebrow at him. Both eyebrows rose up and he breathed an “ah” of realization. “I wondered why you didn’t say the last line when you recited the oracle the first time. You don’t know it. It didn’t sound like something was missing, boyo? That the riddle just ended like that?”
“I thought maybe Hypnos didn’t finish recreating the vision, or maybe the oracle had never been fully completed. But there was another line. And it’s … not good, is it?”