A flicker of anger sparked in the old man’s eyes. “You would accuse Kanegv of murdering or kidnapping a child? A woman who has saved your officers from the troubles of several missing children over the years? For all my apprentice has done for this community, you would disgrace her good name to cover your own incompetence.”
“This is not about her name, Elder. This is about the life of a little boy.”
Smoke Speaker ignored the Police Chief and turned his furious glare to Duff, who was standing a few feet behind his boss. “And do you also feel this way, Mr. Duff?”
Hesitating, Duff shuffled his feet and cleared his throat nervously. He’d never seen the Elder angry, didn’t know he was even capable of such ferocity. “I…yes, sir, I do.”
“Hmm,” was all Smoke Speaker said in reply.
Irritated, Forbe straightened and put his hands on his hips. “Elder, I’m going to need to search your home and these grounds.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
Smoke Speaker tossed a handful of herbs into the fire, and white smoke billowed up from the embers. “I may be an old man who holds on to old ways, Mr. Forbe, but I am not a foolish old man who holds on to foolish old ways. I know my rights, and I do not give you permission.”
“Fine.” He all but spit the word out. “I’ll be back, Smoke Speaker, and I’ll be back with a warrant.”
“Until then, Mr. Forbe.” The Elder got a little kick of pleasure out of the sheriff’s frustration, but he was troubled by the words of the other. “Mr. Duff,” he called quietly, waiting until the younger man turned around. “I pray that you find peace with your betrayal.”
Rendered speechless, Duff couldn’t meet the Elder’s eyes, and instead started his walk of shame out of the clearing. Forbe started to follow. “Mrs. Daivya, let’s go.”
“That’s all right. I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
Forbe stopped and glared at the woman. He was in no mood for games. “Mrs. Daivya, it isn’t safe for you here.”
Julia stood her ground. “We’re fine, Sheriff. We’ll be along shortly, I promise.”
After Forbe had stalked out of the clearing, still muttering beneath his breath, Julia faced the Elder. “I have some questions for you.”
“Are you of the same mind as the men?”
“No.”
“Then please, join me.” Julia and Lisa lowered themselves to the ground on the other side of the fire. Smoke Speaker set the rabbit on a wooden plate and began to remove the meat with knobby fingers.
“Elder, this is my younger sister, Lisa Bard.” Julia hoped to gain the Elder’s trust by showing her love for family. “She has helped out a lot these past couple weeks.”
“Elder,” Lisa greeted with a charming smile that her older sister recognized as flirtatious and playful. She ran her fingers through her long hair and batted her lashes. “Your necklace is beautiful. I bought one from an old woman about four years ago at a powwow in Oklahoma. She made beautiful jewelry.”
Few things truly ruffed Smoke Speaker’s feathers enough to raise his temper, but her words pierced his heart. “My people have been forced to sell their crafts to feed their families, and few who purchase them respect their true value.”
Lisa wasn’t sure if the Elder was scolding her or simply making a statement. “I can promise you that I respect its value. I’ve been going to powwows for years. Your culture fascinates me. I’ve even been thinking about what I’d like my Indian name to be.”
Smoke Speaker lowered the rabbit and regarded Lisa with a cool stare. “You do not choose your name, Miss Bard. An Elder grants a name to he or she who is deemed worthy of such an honor. Those who claim their own names are imposters, and shame my culture with their disrespect.”
Thoroughly humiliated, feelings hurt, Lisa clamped her mouth shut and stared at her hands. She didn’t know what she had done to provoke his abhorrence, but she vowed not to say another word.
Julia too was shocked by the treatment, but a part of her rejoiced at having the chance to witness her flighty and conceited sister getting put in her place. Everyone else had always fawned over her, and finally one man wasn’t immediately taken by her false charms.
“Elder Smoke Speaker, Lisa has nothing to do with why I’m here.” She thought it best to now separate herself from her sister. “I want to help you.”
Putting his anger aside, Smoke Speaker focused on Julia. “With what, Mrs. Daivya?”
Julia nervously wrung her hands together. “Could you give us a few minutes?” she asked Lisa, who rose and walked off in a huff. The Elder didn’t mind at all that she was upset. “Elder…these past two weeks have been more than I can bear. At first, I was so frantic over finding Cole that it was easy for me to write off Ian’s disappearance as him having an affair, or just up and leaving like he usually does when we fight. But now…I’m not stupid. I know that Cole couldn’t have survived this long, not in this weather, in these woods. He’s just not old enough or strong enough to know what to do. But we haven’t found anything, and that still gives me hope. But Ian…” Her head hung low as she pictured her husband. “Something just isn’t right. I don’t believe he’s lost, not Ian. He knows the woods better than anyone, grew up in them. And I don’t think he just left me. I spoke to our house sitter this morning and she says no one has been there, and Ian had a big meeting yesterday with a new hotel account. He loves his business. He wouldn’t have missed that meeting.”
Smoke Speaker listened patiently, and when she finished, he reached over the fire and touched the top of Julia’s head. “He did not leave you,” he comforted her softly.
“How do you know? You know where he is, don’t you?” She sensed the Elder’s reluctance to reply. “I won’t tell Forbe, or anyone else. I don’t agree with the direction their search is going. Between you and me, please tell me where my husband is.”
He trusted the woman. Sheer desperation would force her to keep her word. “Your husband has gone to find your son, Mrs. Daivya. He left, knowing he was risking his life, to save him.”
“Why didn’t he bring me?”
“This is not your journey.”
“Why did your apprentice go with him?”
“To ensure his success.”
She was confused, encouraged, and suspicious. “Elder, did Ian or Whisper have anything to do with Cole’s disappearance?”
“No.”
“Was he kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Why won’t you tell me anything more?”
Smoke Speaker offered her a plate of meat. “You must have faith in my ways, Mrs. Daivya.”
Julia swallowed a small piece of rabbit and set down the plate. “I can’t have faith in a person who hides the truth. I’ll find out what you’re hiding, Elder, and my son better be alive.”
That night, the Elder slept fitfully amidst frightening nightmares. In his sleep, he fought off the evil that walked the earth, searching for the daughter he lost so many years ago. And she was there in the distance, reaching out for him, begging and praying for her father to find her in the snow.
But the faster he ran, the further away she moved, her tears black against pale cheeks. Thunder rolled across the dark sky, and the dead rose from the depths with spindly fingers, grabbing him by the ankles, dragging him down to join the eternally restless.
And there in the distance, a lone white figure emerged from the mountains, growling and snarling and waiting for the chance to devour his daughter. Bunching its muscles, the beast leapt, and his daughter’s screams echoed throughout the Land of the Dead.
Smoke Speaker woke in a convulsion of distress and terror, his old heart gripped in pain. Grief filled his soul for the child he lost, the child he could not save. Eighteen years ago, he had failed her, and now, eighteen years later, he still dreamed of that terrible journey into death.
But this one had been different. Despite his panic, he knew that in this dream he was being sent a message, and he had to w
arn his apprentice. She now had more to fear than the betrayal of the living world.
Whisper wasn’t exaggerating, Ian thought as he panted his way through the woods, when she said they had a long walk ahead of them. They had been traipsing around wide trees, thick underbrush, soggy grounds, and thorny vines for god-knows-how-long and all Ian wanted to do was soak in a hot tub or lie down for a long massage. He loved nature, loved it enough to make it his career, but if he got through this mess alive he had half a mind to find a new job altogether.
The Weeping Forest, as Whisper had called it just before they entered, was appropriately named. Thick, dark drops of liquid dripped from the canopy like a light rain, staining their clothes and flesh. The forest showered them mercilessly, making their trek sticky, foul, and depressing. It was forever crying, forever tarnished.
“Where are we going? I’m getting a little tired of the woods.”
Whisper stopped to untangle her pack from a gooey branch. Her fingers came back coated in a black, tar-like substance that she wiped on her pants. “There is a lake not far away. We will camp there and come up with a plan for the rest of our journey.”
“Our journey where?”
“To the Fire Tower, the home of the Raven-Eater.”
The home of the Raven-Eater was the last place he wanted to go, if the stories about the spirit were accurate. But if Cole was there, then so be it. “And where is this Fire Tower?”
“In the Fire Mountains, the core of the Land of the Dead. From there, the Raven-Eater can watch over all of his prisoners.”
“Oh. Wonderful. Why is it called the Fire Tower and Fire Mountains?”
“Some say the Tower was built from the evils of Land of the Dead souls, and so it is a place of sin. Others say the Fire Mountains were once nothing but flames, and the Raven-Eater found a way to contain them within rock. There are no longer any fires, but the Fire Mountains are extremely hot, unbearable in some places.”
As much as he wanted to know more, Ian was hesitant to ask. Sometimes ignorance was bliss, and the more he knew, the less likely he was to trust his own courage. The entire journey was starting to sound like the plot from some low-budget sci-fi film, as far as he was concerned.
They continued silently but quickly, sticks and leaves crunching beneath their aching feet. When the wind decided to swell up with angry gales and pound through the trees, the thorny branches whipped at their arms and faces, slicing easily through flesh. Whisper’s hair, having been twisted into a tangled mass, was tied back in a messy braid, and Ian tried hard to keep his head down and still see where he was going.
A growl to his right had him freezing in his tracks. Ian immediately crouched low and ducked behind an enormous shrub. Whisper, who had also heard the menacing sound, joined him, lowering one dark green leaf just enough to find the source.
“What…what are they?” Ian whispered, revulsion in his voice as he stared at the beasts. There were two of them, two foul creatures hunched over a rotting carcass. Bearing a distant resemblance to mules, only lower to the ground with two-toed hooves tipped with curved claws, the beasts snarled and barked as they bit into the fallen animal with jagged yellow teeth. Their long, knotted fur was encrusted with old blood, leaves, and slimy mud, their ears flattened against bald heads, mouths dripping with saliva. A pungent odor secreted off their bodies worse than that of the carcass. One was larger than the other, its kinked tail longer, legs thicker.
When Ian looked closer, he could see that it was greedily chomping on the thickest part of the carcass, while the smaller one was chewing on the bones already stripped. Sensing their presence, the smaller beast lifted its head, and looked directly at the intruders. Its black lips pulled back into a vicious snarl, revealing two double rows of razor-sharp yellow teeth.
“Mr. Daivya, we must move on. It is not safe here.”
Ian didn’t object, and gladly snuck away from the beasts. He wasn’t interested in being their next meal, and hoped they were too weak and focused on their measly meal to follow them. He couldn’t get the image of the rotted meat being torn apart by razor-sharp teeth out of his head, and in a panic-induced craze he frantically looked over his shoulder and behind every tree to make sure they weren’t being followed.
Finally, the Weeping Forest gave way to a meadow, tall grasses that reached just past Ian’s thighs gently blowing in the wind. Just beyond the meadow was a small lake, water clear and clean, a welcomed sight from the gloom of the trees that leaked pus.
They washed that black goo from their clothes and bodies in the lake, kneeling on the shore beneath the red-streaked sky. Crimson from above and violet from the ground reflected in the lake, sending shimmering dots of light across the meadow.
“It’s kind of nice here,” Ian commented, running a hand through his wet hair. “Is it not nice?” He changed his mind when Whisper sent him a sarcastic glance.
“Do not be fooled by your surroundings, Mr. Daivya. Few things in the Land of the Dead are what they seem.”
He didn’t see how a meadow with a clean lake and soft colors could actually be a cesspool of evil, but he wouldn’t argue. Instead, he helped Whisper make a fire at the edge of the woods and prepare a meal with supplies she had taken from Annabelle’s hut. He wasn’t so sure about the food Whisper called Spana, made of mushed yellow leaves, a watery red-ish meat, and lumpy gray sauce. Again, it looked disgusting, and again, it tasted delicious.
After the meal, they both rested by the protection of the fire, which burned bright and white with thick black smoke. Whisper, fighting sleep, lay on her side and stared at the smoke, eyes reading the wisps as they circled into symbols and pictures. The Elder was reaching out to her.
“Temptation,” she read to herself, straining to decipher more in her state of half-sleep, wishing she had had more time to learn the art of smoke speaking, and he the gift of whispering. “Love…the beauty of…water……beware the Trickster.”
On the other side of the fire, Ian watched Whisper watch the smoke. He knew that look in her eyes by now, that faraway gaze that told him she was seeing something beyond his own capacity to perceive. When her eyes closed, he figured that whatever she was reading in the smoke wasn’t too important, and soon fell asleep.
Chapter 18
He awoke to the sound of splashing water.
Lifting himself to his elbows, Ian peered around their small makeshift camp, blinking the sleep from his foggy brain. He saw Whisper at the lake, kneeling down as she washed her hair in the clear waters, running her slender fingers through the long, sleek strands. She had changed from her filthy clothes into a fitted buckskin dress that made her look like a charming, innocent woman he just happened to pass by on the path to the Raven-Eater. She was barefoot, her toned legs glistening with violet water drop reflections. He had imagined her to have a great body, and he was right.
When she sensed his stare and turned, Ian rose to his feet and walked towards her. She ran her hands down her hair, wringing out the water, and met him almost halfway. Something had changed in her eyes, a refreshing glint of happiness and youth, and he thoroughly enjoyed the way those eyes now regarding him as he approached with both caution and complete abandon. He even enjoyed the way she stopped just a couple feet short, making him take the last few steps.
He didn’t bother to speak, to ask permission to run his hands up her muscled yet feminine arms, to cup her chin in his landscape-calloused palm. It was obvious to them both that it was time to put aside their differences, join together if even for just one night. After all, they were in the Land of the Dead, where myth, legend, lore, and desire came to life.
He touched her damp hair, curling a strand around his fingers, gently drawing her face up to his. He had imagined what those lips felt like, tasted like, and now what he had dreamed was his very own reality.
Ian leaned down, eager for her touch, her mouth. But just when he should have met those luscious lips, he was greeted with empty air instead. Startled, he took a step back, eye
s widening at the sight of Whisper standing before him with an arrow aimed in his direction.
“You would dare to touch another,” she accused, her voice reverberating in the wind, echoing in his mind. “You…are…unworthy.”
And then she released the arrow.
The shot shattered his dream into a thousand pieces, shocking Ian out of sleep and nearly to his feet. His heart pounding, he glanced over at Whisper to see that she was still resting soundly, and guilt instantly racked his heart and soul. She was his guide, half his age, and he was married. They had no physical or emotional relationship, purely professional. He had no business dreaming of her. And yet, part of him was disappointed that the dream had taken such a foul turn. To know the feel and taste of her body, even in sleep, seemed like an opportunity too good to pass up.
The familiar splashing sound that had first intruded his dreams suddenly met his ears again, distracting him from his thoughts of Whisper. Through the purple haze he saw a small figure slowly moving around in the lake, creating smooth ripples that gently lapped on the shore. This time, he knew it was real. Making sure Whisper was still asleep, he quietly rose to his feet and walked down to the lake, keeping careful watch on the figure.
As he edged his way closer in the eerily quiet night, he saw that the figure was an animal, and stopped cold. The last thing he wanted to do was get too close to another of those foul beasts. Only…this one didn’t look so foul, or evil. This one was white as snow, with smooth fur, bright gray eyes, and a curious face. It was knee-deep in the water, and to Ian looked like a wolf of sorts.
The majestic creature turned its sleek head in Ian’s direction, eyes shining in the purple light. Mesmerized, Ian crept closer, watching the creature closely, and the wolf moved in unison with his steps. The large animal was gorgeous, a magnificent display of nature, with fur that glowed in the red and purple lights and a streamlined form that boasted strength and perfection.
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