The Gathering Read online

  “I feel like I am cooking in a stew,” Evan said.

  “But not for long,” Adam said, as he took the crystal cube from his pocket, balanced it on one point and then started it spinning like a top.

  At first it wobbled, but he spun it again, and the second time it caught. It began to spin in front of them, faster and faster until a light appeared behind it. A humming sound came from it as the light grew brighter and larger until the energy pull from one dimension to the next opened the portal in a blinding flash.

  Adam was holding onto the bird necklace with one hand, and Evan with the other.

  “Grab the cube!” he yelled, and between one heartbeat and the next, they leaped into the light and disappeared.

  The next thing they knew they were flat on their backs in the dark. The air smelled of rain, although the sky was clearing in one direction enough they could see a few stars. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky in the other direction, and as it did, momentarily lit the land around them.

  That’s when they saw a body a few yards down, lying motionless on the side of the hill.

  “There! She’s there!” Adam yelled, and then the light was gone.

  But he’d seen where she was and began crawling on his hands and knees with Evan right beside him until they reached her body.

  Evan thrust his fingers along the base of her neck, feeling for a pulse.

  “She’s alive!” he cried.

  “But something’s wrong with her!” Adam said. “Concentrate! Where is Yuma? Where are the others?”

  Evan closed his eyes and saw the encampment spread out along a riverbank and saw smoldering fires built with wet wood, making more smoke than heat.

  “That way,” he said, pointing east.

  “How far?” Adam asked.

  “I can’t tell, but we need to get her there. Healers will know what to do.”

  Adam touched her and then froze. She had grown more powerful than she’d been when she left Naaki Chava, beyond anything he could ever have imagined. He’d seen the storm and the fire and he’d seen her in the tornado, and despite the fact that they’d grown up together, for a few frantic moments he was afraid of her.

  “She doesn’t need a healer,” Adam said. “Remember when she was younger and fought the spirit of the evil shaman that died on the swinging bridge? Remember how exhausted she was when it was over?”

  Evan nodded. “Yes. Cayetano carried her all the way back to the palace.”

  “That’s what’s wrong with her now. She fought something today that was so powerful it sapped all of her energy.”

  Evan took the backpack off of Tyhen’s shoulders and handed it to Adam.

  “Here, you carry this,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” Adam asked as Evan began shifting the straps on his pack higher up on his shoulders.

  “I’m going to carry her,” he said, and scooped her up in his arms.

  As another flash of lightning momentarily lit their way Evan glanced down, frowning at how light she felt despite her height, and how thin her face.

  “Hey, little sister. It’s good to see you,” he said softly, and then started walking.

  “Be careful where you step,” Adam said. “I can’t see anything and you don’t want to fall with her in your arms.”

  Evan shook his head. “You forget yourself, brother. You can see. Just use your magic.”

  Adam chuckled. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

  They hadn’t gone far when Evan had a vision of people.

  “I don’t know how far away they are, but I see men coming this way carrying torches,” Evan said.

  Adam focused and nodded. “It’s Yuma. He’s coming after Tyhen.”

  “He must be frantic,” Evan said.

  “Do you think we should tell him we’re coming,” Adam asked.

  Evan shook his head.

  “No, let’s just surprise him.”

  So they kept walking East, slogging through the thick wet grass and mud and getting wetter and colder by the minute.

  “I’ve never been cold before,” Adam muttered, thinking back to the tropical island on which they’d been born and the heat of the jungles.

  “It’s worse than being too hot, for sure,” Evan said.

  Tyhen moaned.

  “Is she waking up?” Adam asked.

  Evan was connected to her thoughts by the simple act of carrying her, and all he saw was the fire and the storm.

  “No, just remembering,” he said.

  The night sky continued to clear until stars began to appear, and then a half-moon glow bathed the land around them.

  Evan’s arms were aching and his feet were so cold he couldn’t feel them when he began seeing lights bobbing up and down in front of them.

  “I see torches!”

  “It is Yuma,” Adam said. “He’s found us.”

  ***

  It was getting dark.

  The storm had passed, but when Tyhen still had not returned, Yuma’s worry turned to panic. Obviously she had succeeded in keeping them alive, but at what cost? Where was she? Why wasn’t she back? He hadn’t wanted to leave her behind. He hadn’t wanted her out of his sight. And because he had done it anyway, this was the result.

  Montford Nantay knew Yuma was worried, and when he saw him making a torch to go look for her, he motioned for his brother, Johnston, and then headed toward Yuma.

  “We’ll go with you,” he said.

  Yuma nodded and started off at a trot. Johnston picked up a couple of unlit torches from their campsite as they passed and then they were gone.

  They walked without conversation, putting one foot in front of the other, feeling the chill of the wind on their faces and hearing the howl of a wolf pack somewhere off in the distance. Thinking of her unconscious and at the mercy of wild animals made Yuma crazy and he increased his stride.

  The first torch was beginning to burn out when Montford lit a new one from it and kept on moving. The sky was clearing and the faint glow of the half-moon was casting blue shadows on a black velvet night.

  When Yuma began feeling a tightening across his chest, he knew they must be close. But how would they find her in the dark?

  “The light! Bring the light forward,” Yuma ordered, and Montford moved into the lead a few steps, holding the burning torch high above his head.

  When Yuma first saw her emerge from the darkness, it looked like she was on her back and floating waist high above the ground. Her legs were bent at the knee and dangling downward, with one long graceful arm swinging back and forth in front of her like the pendulum on the grandfather clock he remembered from his childhood.

  He stumbled, certain he was hallucinating, and then realized she was being carried. And then he saw the face and the smile of the man who was carrying her and shot past the Nantay brothers as if they were standing still.

  “My brothers! I don’t know how you got here or knew Tyhen was in need, but I am so grateful that you found her!” he cried, thumping both of them on their backs.

  Then as quickly as he greeted his brothers, his focus shifted to Tyhen. He believed she couldn’t die, but she could be hurt and that was something he could not bear. He lifted her from Evan’s arms and laid her down on the ground. His hands were trembling as he thrust his fingers beneath the hood to feel her head then felt the length of her arms and legs. He knew that she could heal herself. He’d seen it happen, and nothing seemed out of place or injured.

  “Tyhen, can you hear my voice?”

  Montford and Johnston caught up, shocked by the sight of the twins.

  “How did you get here?” Montford asked.

  “Magic!” Adam said, grinning.

  Yuma picked Tyhen up in his arms.

  “What’s wrong with her? How did you know she was in trouble? Where did y
ou find her?” he asked.

  Evan put a hand on Yuma’s shoulder in reassurance.

  “Nothing is wrong with her. She’s just exhausted. She rode a very powerful storm today and saved your lives, didn’t she?” Adam said.

  “How do you know that?” Montford asked.

  “Remember who you are talking to,” Yuma said. “They know everything.”

  Evan pulled the hood a little closer around Tyhen’s face as he added his reassurance.

  “Remember when she fought the evil shaman on the swinging bridge and Cayetano had to carry her back to Naaki Chava? She is tired like that.”

  Yuma felt of her hand, willing the fingers to curl around his hand as they always did, but they were limp against her belly.

  “Yes, I remember. She saved my life that night. You swear she has come to no harm.”

  Adam nodded. “I swear, my brother. She just needs rest.”

  “And food,” Evan added. “She’s very thin.”

  “We all are,” Yuma said. “Come. We will talk as we walk back to camp. This has been a very long day. Twice today we thought we would die, but she saved us.”

  Evan took the pack off Yuma’s shoulder to lessen his burden as Yuma cradled her like a baby, walking with her head tucked beneath his chin and her body close against his chest.

  He could hear the men talking behind him, sharing stories about the new city of Boomerang that was being built, and how Singing Bird was already teaching others the new languages and math. He heard them bragging how Cayetano was turning the shoreline into a fortress and felt a new sense of urgency. They were already creating what the New Ones had yet to begin.

  When Tyhen moaned, he shifted her to a more comfortable position and lengthened his stride. The sooner he got her into their tent and under warm robes, the better.

  Chapter Three

  The twins were stunned as they walked into the camp. Although the number of tents was great, they were noticeably less than when they left Naaki Chava.

  When Montford and Johnson parted ways to go to their camps, Evan caught up with Yuma, whispering so as not to disturb the people sleeping among them.

  “Is this all that’s left of the New Ones?” he asked.

  Yuma nodded.

  “That is so sad. What happened?” Evan asked

  Yuma shrugged wearily as he wound his way between campfires and tents.

  “An earthquake. A landslide. Many things. Many sad days,” he said softly.

  Evan understood. They, too, had lost many when they’d run from the mountain that blew fire into the sky, but he had no memory of it. He would have died then but for Tyhen. He glanced at the sleeping woman in Yuma’s arms and said no more.

  Yuma’s arms were aching by the time he reached their campsite. The fire he’d built before they left was still burning, which surprised him, and then he saw Gecko wrapped up in a blanket a few feet away and the small pile of wood beside him and guessed he’d been feeding the fire for Tyhen. Grateful for the heat, he said nothing as he laid Tyhen down.

  The little boy’s eyes flew open and Yuma saw relief on his face.

  “She is well?” he asked.

  “Yes, she is well,” Yuma said. “Thank you for the fire. Go back to your tent and be warm.”

  He was up and gone in moments.

  “Who was that?” Adam asked, as he dropped his pack at his feet.

  “My competition,” Yuma said. “He fancies himself in love with Tyhen.”

  Adam watched the little boy disappearing among the tents and then shook his head.

  “They have a connection, but it’s nothing like that.”

  Yuma heard, but was too busy trying to get everyone down to rest, and didn’t ask more.

  “You and Adam can set up your tents close to ours and share our fire for the night.”

  “Can we help you in any way?” Evan asked.

  Yuma glanced down. She was so still. He just needed to hold her to reassure himself that she still breathed.

  “No. I’m going to get her into the tent under a warm buffalo robe and feed her tomorrow. Did you bring warm covers for your beds?”

  “Yes, Singing Bird prepared us well,” Adam said.

  “Then good night,” Yuma said, and opened up a flap in the tent so he could get her inside. As soon as she was settled, he tied down the flap to keep out the wind, straightened the bedding and lay down beside her. Subconsciously she curled into the shape of his body as he pulled the wooly buffalo hide over them.

  “I am in awe of the woman in my arms,” he whispered, then put his arm around her and closed his eyes.

  ***

  Captain Diego DeVille sat his horse with the casual grace of a man born to the saddle. He was a muscular man of average height with black curly hair and a black scruffy beard. In another place, clean and in decent clothing, he would have been considered a fine figure of a man. Here, he was one of fifty-two filthy, exhausted, and bad-tempered Spanish soldiers who had been turned into explorers and all in the name of their King.

  He had been given a map to an outpost built two years earlier, and was to leave the men who rode with him and bring back the ones who’d been manning it. But he was beginning to get concerned. They should have already reached it and yet they had not, which in his mind did not bode well. Either he was lost, which was going to make finding their way back to where their ship was anchored difficult, or the fort and men were no more, which would likely not please the King.

  He was thinking about roasted chicken, a fine red wine, and a buxom woman to warm his bed when his lieutenant, Luis Estevez, called out.

  “Captain DeVille. We need to stop. One of the horses is pulling up lame.”

  Diego cursed beneath his breath as held up a hand to halt the line.

  “Tell them ten-minute break. Do what they need to do and do it quick,” he ordered.

  Lieutenant Luis Estevez gave the order and the riders came to a halt and dismounted. Some headed to the bushes to relieve themselves while others poured water into their metal helmets to give their horses a drink. Two staggered off to the side and threw up.

  Diego saw them and frowned. He had already lost four men to sickness. He couldn’t afford to lose any more, but the ship’s doctor had been the first to die and he had no notion of what was ailing them.

  Diego took a drink from his water bag as he watched the soldier with the lame horse trying to dig a good-sized pebble from the horse’s hoof.

  He watched for a few moments more and then turned and faced the north wind. It was cold, damn cold. He took a long, deep breath and then closed his eyes, wishing he could wake up and discover this was all just a bad dream. Ten minutes later they were back in the saddle, still in search of the outpost.

  ***

  It was mid-morning of the next day when they rode up on a few broken poles still sticking out of the ground and a part of a roof with long grass growing up between hand-hewn shingles.

  They’d found the outpost.

  Diego DeVille stared mutely at the sight before them as he reined in his horse.

  “Captain, is this it?” Lieutenant Estevez asked.

  Diego felt sick. This did not bode well for the rest of their expedition.

  “What’s left of it,” he said.

  “So what do we do now?” Estevez asked.

  Deville looked up past the broken poles. In the distance he could see conical structures rising above the long grass and saw signs of habitation from the smoke of scattered fires rising into the sky.

  “There!” he cried, pointing toward the rising smoke. “The men must be there! We ride!” he shouted, and actually kicked his horse into a trot with the others following suit, anxious to come face to face with the men and find out what had happened.

  DeVille was already formulating what needed to be done. The first thing, of cou
rse, was to rescue the men. He would see that they were commended for not abandoning their post, regardless of what had befallen them. His expedition to the frontier outpost had become an extraction. His job now was to get the survivors back to Spain.

  For the first time in days DeVille felt optimistic. And then they rode into the camp. The tent-like dwellings were made of some kind of animal skin and the smoke he’d seen was coming out of the smoke holes at the top.

  “Hello the camp!” Diego called out, expecting to see some of his people emerge.

  When dark-skinned savages wearing skins and furs came out of the dwellings, he was shocked. They came out without fear, staring curiously at the men and coming close to touch the horses they rode.

  “Habla español?” he asked.

  One of the old men stepped forward. As he did, Lieutenant Estevez saw the jacket the man was wearing beneath an animal skin robe and started shouting.

  “He’s wearing part of a uniform! He’s by God wearing a uniform! They killed them. That’s what happened to the men!”

  DeVille frowned.

  “With what? Their fists? They’re old. Do you see any weapons?”

  The old man motioned toward where the outpost once stood and began saying the same thing over and over in Spanish.

  “Many Tatanka. Some die.”

  “Some? Where are the others?”

  The old man shrugged and then pointed west.

  “What is Tatanka?” Diego asked.

  The old man pointed to one of the images painted on the skins of their dwelling. It looked something like a large wooly bull. They had seen animals similar to this already. Was he saying the men died because of these animals? That was ridiculous. It would take many thousands of large animals to stampede through that outpost and knock it to the ground.

  “Where are these animals?” Diego asked.

  The old man shrugged, then pointed toward the prairie and waved his arm as if indicating they were anywhere and everywhere.

  “Why are you here alone? Where are your people?” Diego asked, but evidently the old man had exhausted the few words he’d learned from the soldiers and just stood there.