The Secret of Namana (The Arnaka Saga Book 2)

by Lucia Ashta

  The surrounding forest began to creak and groan, and Ashta, Anak, and Kaanra opened their eyes to watch. The trees bent toward the ground, tilting their wide-reaching canopies at an angle so they enclosed the light warriors. Tree canopy touched one tree canopy after another until the first and last in the circle met. The limbs and leaves of trees intermingled with those of its neighbors, creating a fortress of foliage.

  The sunlight retreated behind veils of dense greenery. The world of the light warriors shut in on itself, and the air grew thick with the intoxicating scents of the plant world. Vines came alive to slide and slither across the ground like snakes. Then the vines climbed. They twirled and wrapped around bent tree trunks, disguising the unusual tree positioning from ready discovery.

  Smaller plants all around them shifted and moved to fill voids and to conceal. Fairies grouped together to move stones large enough to fill openings. In the limited time they had to create this illusion, it wouldn’t have been enough to fool Brazzon upon close inspection, but it was sufficient to suggest that he should continue his flight without stopping. The twins and Kaanra watched in amazement as their environment changed radically.

  It was then, in this enchanted place, that Kaanra understood what Ashta and Anak already knew. There was no one better suited to be the doman’s guardian. Thom was a wizard with an inner light that the forest and its creatures responded to enthusiastically. Thom’s love for the forest was unparalleled, even among his present company, who all shared a deep love for nature.

  The final tree trunk finished its warping, the last vines settled into their new places, the fairies moved one final stone, and the last plant twisted to better disguise. And suddenly, there was a still silence that filled the light warriors. It was a profound and dense silence after all the creaking and rustling of plant life that was not meant to move at such speeds.

  Plants grew slowly. They were elegant observers of the passing of time. But for Thom, they temporarily changed their substance, and they organized themselves to protect him and those of light with him, for the forest always knew the inner essence of all beings.

  And so it was that the dark raven cawed out in frustration. He perched at the edge of the light warriors’ enclosure, looking everywhere, searching frantically for what he believed he must have, for what he thought was just within his covetous reach.

  Within the trees, the light warriors held their breath. No one and nothing made a sound. The forest was almost too quiet. All the forest animals waited too. No one breathed. No one moved. All waited to see if darkness would pass them by.

  Finally, it did. The dark raven flew off in another direction to seek relentlessly. His determination to find the doman and to claim it for darkness would grow more ferocious. But for now, he would lose the doman’s trail.

  All of the forest breathed a sigh of relief. The raven’s caw faded into the distance. Sunlight filtered into the forest enclosure once more, happily and readily.

  29 Reluctant Return

  Elena continued to sit, undisturbed, her eyes closed to the beauty of the landscape. Marco had stopped exploring his surroundings a while ago, turning his focused attention on his beloved. It seemed to him that calling out to Willem should not take this long, and he wondered if she was okay.

  Marco had seen Elena drift away in otherworldly experiences enough times over the last few months to realize that almost anything could be going on behind her closed eyes. He watched her, his concern mounting, wondering whether he should check on her or not. In the end, he decided not to interrupt whatever she was doing, and he held back. But he looked on, and with every quarter hour that passed, without even noticing he was doing it, he took several steps closer to where she was.

  Right now, he was crouching next to a massive boulder that partially shaded him from the intensity of the sun, almost overhead. Marco watched Elena unblinkingly.

  Sitting Bear, on the opposite side of the campsite from Marco, zeroed in on Elena as well. He also thought it had been too long since she went within to connect with Willem.

  Sitting Bear turned his keen eyes to Marco. Marco squatted, one hand on the boulder, ready to propel himself forward. He looked as attuned to his surroundings as the animals Sitting Bear regularly watched prowl the harsh desert environment. Concern lined Marco’s face. His gaze studied Elena, unwavering. How long had he been watching her like this? No one understood Elena as well as Marco did, and the worry that etched Marco’s face spoke volumes to Sitting Bear.

  While Sitting Bear observed Marco, Marco was considering the potential danger in inter-dimensional travel. Elena’s awakening to the infinite spectrum of possibilities was continuously taking place at an intense rate. The pace at which Elena’s guides revealed her gifts to her alternately amazed and alarmed Marco.

  Elena would readily admit she was a novice in the workings of other dimensions. There was much that could infiltrate the energetic gap Elena opened to cross over into another plane of time and space, and she was still an amateur in understanding how to deal with what could confront her.

  Marco sensed Sitting Bear’s appraising gaze upon him and looked up. The men’s stares locked across the distance, and they made a decision. There was too much at stake to ignore Marco’s concern. After all, he was intricately connected to Elena in a way that only twins of the soul could be. Marco and Elena had come together as preordained lovers not only in this lifetime, but also in many others. Marco’s worry could not be dismissed.

  With a nod of the head the only indication of their agreement, Marco stood. He and Sitting Bear began their approach toward Elena. They had agreed to interrupt whatever she was doing, to call her back from wherever and whenever she had gone, but even so, their step was light. It could be perilous for a person to return from another plane too abruptly. Some parts of the individual could remain behind, and there was great danger in fragmenting a soul.

  Both Marco and Sitting Bear, having dedicated much of their lives to a greater understanding of the unseen, were aware that caution was imperative. The men approached carefully, but steadily. Their footsteps were as quiet as those of the surrounding animals, barely disturbing the hard-packed earth.

  Elena sat unmoving. The swells of her breasts rose and fell with steady breath, but other than that, she did not stir. She seemed unaware of their approach. Marco and Sitting Bear stopped ten feet away from her to lock eyes again, searching for agreement. After another nod from Marco, Sitting Bear began.

  A birdcall rang out. The sound was soft and soothing. It progressively grew louder. Sitting Bear had practiced the sounds of the local birds as a boy. By now, he was very good at imitating them. The bird broke into cheerful song. It was a crisp, defined sound. Sitting Bear was gently beckoning Elena back into the world where they were, where her body was.

  Their intention was to alert Elena to her immediate surroundings instead of startling her back into her body. From still air, a wind was born. It whistled like the softest of breezes, one that caressed the skin and brought a smile to even the most stubborn face.

  Still, Elena did not stir at all. She was somewhere else, firmly entrenched in another reality. The wind picked up. Marco whistled and blew, imitating the sounds of a stronger wind.

  The two men exchanged looks again. Sitting Bear threw his head back into a coyote howl. He howled softly at first. Then, he bayed louder. Even so, Elena did not return.

  Now Marco and Sitting Bear were really worried.

  “Elena,” Marco whispered in words that were barely audible. “Elena. Elena, it is time for you to come back to us now.”

  Marco’s voice steadily grew louder. “Amore, it is time to return.”

  Still nothing. Marco steadied his impulse to reach out and touch her, to shake her, to know that she was okay. His concern was snowballing exponentially the longer it took her to return. He wanted desperately to bring her back. It unsettled him that he was not able to reach his love, that he couldn’t identify where she was right then.

 
Sitting Bear studied the growing alarm on Marco’s face. He understood what Marco was feeling, even though Sitting Bear had never loved a woman the way Marco did.

  “Elena!” Marco said a little more loudly than he had intended, and he immediately regretted the frustration that led him to risk bringing her back too rapidly.

  But it worked out. The concern Marco evidenced in his voice activated that part of Elena she had drifted away from. She loved Marco. Her love for him was enmeshed within every part of her being, and it was his anxiety that made her snap out of it.

  She tilted her head almost imperceptibly to one side, and then to the other. But the slight movement was enough for Marco to expel a rush of air in relief. Marco sat back on his haunches and looked at Sitting Bear with a big smile across his face. Sitting Bear, too, was relieved. He had never seen anyone go so far out of body before.

  It was Elena’s constant connection to the underlying magic of this and other worlds that made it so easy for her to float out of her body, as if she were always drifting between the planes, skimming her hand against the veil that separates them, making the sheer veil undulate and waft, and then slipping her fingers through to the other side. The other worlds drew her. They beckoned to her as if she had only one foot in this world and the other always in another.

  Returning to this reality was always more difficult for Elena than leaving it. She breathed in a deep breath, and she relaxed the posture of her back. She tried to open her eyes, but the attempt was short-lived. Her eyelids fluttered open for the briefest of moments and then closed again against the sudden harshness of the bright sun. Mostly, however, she shut her eyes against the challenge of being back in her body.

  “Amore,” Marco cooed.

  Then he sensed her slipping away from him again. “Amore!” This time he spoke strongly and firmly. He insisted that she come back now. He would not let her float back away.

  “Come back to me, amore. Torni adesso.” Return now.

  “Non posso,” Elena responded in Marco’s native tongue. I can’t. Her words were slurred, as if she barely had control over her body. In the space she was in, so distant from her conscious mind, anything she once learned was readily accessible to her. Speaking in Italian was no different to her than speaking in any other language she was familiar with—even if her words were slurred.

  She was incapable of those thoughts of the rational mind that would have indicated to her that it was impolite to speak in a language someone present did not understand. She didn’t register that Sitting Bear was there, let alone that he did not understand the Italian she and Marco were speaking.

  “Ma lo devi fare.” But you must do it. “Devi tornare adesso.” You must return now.

  “Torni adesso, amore. Per favore.” Return now, my love. Please. Marco’s voice was soft now, the gentle nudging of a lover.

  Elena tried for Marco’s sake. Where she was, she could not understand the need to return. She did it only for him.

  Sitting Bear stood from his crouched position. He walked over to stand behind Elena. He was mindful not to disrupt the connection Marco had established with her. It was the bridge back to this plane for Elena.

  Sitting Bear unfastened the bone fragment that secured the leather pouch at his waist. He had made the pouch himself as a child. Sitting Bear touched the pouch tenderly. It reminded him of when he was a boy, eager to learn everything about himself and his father, anxious to know the ways of his tribe. He had stitched the pouch carefully and with an enormous amount of dedication. Small bone fragments that Sitting Bear found on the land as a child adorned the bag in a pattern representing the sacred medicine wheel of his people. The pieces of bone marked the four physical directions in the straightforward way a boy’s mind worked.

  From the pouch, Sitting Bear removed an unadorned cloth. It was green. He unfolded it slowly. It, too, was from his childhood. From within, he removed the pipe his father had carved for him when he was a teenager. It was a coming-of-age gift. The day his father gifted him the pipe, he had told Sitting Bear he was now a man.

  To choose a name that honored the different stages of their lives was the way of his people. An individual could transition through several names in his lifetime. On the day his father gave him this pipe, Sitting Bear chose the name he still carried. He had not felt the need to change it since.

  He still felt like Sitting Bear—he was mindful of his surroundings; his actions were measured and wise; he respected the rhythms of nature and all life; and he possessed the strength and steadfastness of a bear. Sitting Bear sat back and observed everything and everyone around him. When it was his time, he charged forward with the determination and courage of a bear.

  After Sitting Bear chose his name, his father carved the figure of a seated bear and added it to the pipe. The wood still held strong, and it looked more beautiful with age than it had when his father first revealed the carving.

  Marco looked up at Sitting Bear curiously. The large man towered over the seated Elena. He was moving in slow motion, stopping after every small movement to stare off into the distance. He appeared to be daydreaming, and Marco thought it most unusual for Sitting Bear to behave this way when Elena’s situation was dire.

  Sitting Bear did not notice Marco’s questioning glance. He removed another cloth from the pouch. This cloth was red, and it held tobacco, a plant sacred to his people. Sitting Bear pinched a generous amount of tobacco and packed it in the bowl. Then he put the tobacco away. His actions were coordinated and meticulous from many years of practice.

  Finally, Sitting Bear retrieved a disposable lighter from the pouch. The lighter was one of the few conveniences of the modern world he indulged in. From the time humans first discovered fire, they marveled at its unexpected power. Now, with the flick of a thumb, fire instantly appeared. It was like a magic trick.

  Marco shook his head, disrupting the quizzical look he had been giving Sitting Bear. Sitting Bear’s behavior confused Marco, but he returned his focus to Elena. He needed to do something to help her.

  “Amore, dai.” Love, come on.

  Marco’s words brought a sudden end to Sitting Bear’s reverie. Sitting Bear snapped out of it, surprised he had floated away in nostalgia and remembrance. Elena’s detachment from the present moment was contagious. Sitting Bear had been unusually wistful.

  Alert again, Sitting Bear lit the bowl of tobacco. He puffed at the plant until it was smoking generously. Marco looked at Sitting Bear with relief.

  Comprehending what Sitting Bear planned to do, Marco carefully picked up Elena’s hands from her knees and placed them on the earth. He ran his hands down Elena’s arms, encouraging her to respond to the bodily sensation of his hands on her skin, of her hands against the earth, and to pull back into her physical shell. Over and again, he brought his hands up to her shoulders and slid them down her arms, ending at her hands. He pressed his hands over hers, encouraging her to connect to the earth, to allow the Mother to ground her into this earthly body.

  Again, Marco repeated the same cycle of movements. Then, Sitting Bear pulled in a great mouthful of tobacco smoke, moved the pipe to the side, and bent down over Elena. His broad body curved above Elena’s seated figure. His turquoise earrings dangled, brushing up against her head. His long braid fell against her shoulder. Sitting Bear brought his lips a whisper away from the yellow hair that covered the crown of Elena’s head, and then he released the smoke in a slow and steady breath that seemed to go on forever, mingling elegantly with timelessness.

  Marco was mesmerized. The smoke swayed and curled. It took on a life of its own. Marco was enchanted by it, and he looked on without moving, his hands stationed against Elena’s, pressing her hands into the raw earth.

  Thrice, Sitting Bear repeated the same action. He blew smoke into the crown of Elena’s head three times. By the time he released the last of the smoke, and he turned to inhale a breath of fresh air, Elena blinked her eyes open.

  Finally, she was back.

  Elen
a’s return to her body was tenuous at first. Marco took off her shoes and socks so she could touch the earth with the soles of her feet, until Sitting Bear suggested she lay flat on the ground. After some time with the dirt beneath her, supporting her, anchoring her within this earthly shell, Elena finally felt steady within herself.

  Marco, ever connected to her, sensed her readiness.

  “Is everything okay? Are you alright?” he asked. “Were you able to reach Willem?”

  Marco helped Elena to sit up. They moved slowly, so she wouldn’t get dizzy. She took a moment and then shook her head no. “I didn’t even try to reach Willem. When I went within, I went somewhere else than I intended. I merged with Ashta.”

  Elena gave Marco a knowing look. Sitting Bear would not be able to follow their conversation, but Marco would. Elena didn’t have the energy to explain about Arnaka. Marco would have to do that.

  “Ashta and Anak are in danger. They are hiding from a shape-shifter that gave himself entirely to darkness. The light warriors carry the doman with them, and they are on the run. There is another prophecy other than the one that concerns our birth—I mean Ashta and Anak’s birth. Dann also foretold one other prophecy that involves the twins. Now they are running, hiding from the circling black raven that hunts them. They run to fulfill the prophecy before the dark raven can find them and the doman.”

  When Elena said the words “shape shifter,” she grabbed Sitting Bear’s full attention. Despite the outlandish details of her story, she still had it.

  “We need to find a way to help them. There must be something we can do.” Elena urged.

  She stared intently, meaningfully into Marco’s eyes. “We need to help them.” There was ferocious resolve in her voice.

  They would find a way to assist the golden twins of prophecy. It was all too important. Besides, it was their destiny. And if nothing else, the golden twins who had incarnated again would do everything in their power to fulfill their destiny.