The Dove Read online

  “Then I am sorry,” he said.

  Yuma’s hand was on her hip. Tyhen could feel his anger as his grip grew tighter. She threaded her fingers through his hand and stood her ground.

  “What was said cannot be unsaid. The damage has been done. Still, you came into my city wanting to know me, so heed my words. If you claim to know about me and my powers, then you also know about the New Ones who now live among us. Is this so?”

  Votan nodded, but his voice held a hint of derision. “We heard the stories, but we do not believe these people came from the future.”

  Tyhen waved her arm across the playa. “Make way for the New Ones. Let the shamans look upon their faces so that they may also call them liars, and then look at all of the people of Naaki Chava who witnessed their arrival through the portal, and call them liars, too.”

  Then she turned and pointed at Ah Kin, well aware he’d been a part of this.

  “Ask our own shaman, Ah Kin. He was at the portal gate with the Old Ones when they arrived. He saw their burns. He saw their strange clothing. He knows the truth. Ask him!”

  Ah Kin’s mouth opened, but no sounds came out. He had not expected this. He had not seen any of this happening. The twins must have blocked it, which meant they must have known all along that the shamans were coming. This might just be the worst mistake of his life.

  Votan glared at Ah Kin and then looked away, trying not to panic as the crowd of people shifted before them. He glanced at the people moving toward him. He focused on their appearance and was shocked into silence. They had light skin and dark skin and every shade of brown skin, and they were taller, like Tyhen. Some of them had blue eyes. Some had eyes the color of new grass, while others had eyes as dark as night. They spoke among themselves in a language he did not understand. He frowned.

  “They are not people like us. They are not pure,” he said.

  Tyhen’s voice rose in anger. “Pure? What is pure? As long as a drop of our blood is in their veins, they are a part of the whole and it was not given to you to judge. These are the New Ones. They are all that is left of what we would be.”

  Votan looked at the other shamans. They were staring at the people in disbelief.

  “What do you mean, of what we would be?”

  “In your visions, do you see strangers coming in great ships?”

  Some of the shamans nodded.

  “In your visions, do you see these strangers killing our people, leaving their babies in our mothers’ bellies, and stealing our land?”

  More were nodding.

  Tyhen moved closer to the edge of the tier on which she was standing, and as she did, Yuma moved with her. She lifted her hands, as if beseeching the Old Ones for a favor, and as she did, the air became lighter, carrying her words all the way across the city and the people below.

  “Your visions are true. The strangers will come in great numbers and take what is ours. Although we fight them, we cannot defeat them because we were also fighting among ourselves. Generation after generation, our tribes have been killing people from other tribes or turning captives into slaves. Then we let the strangers into our lives, and because we were not one, we became weak and could not fight them anymore. Firewalker became angry with us and destroyed earth and everything on it. These people are all that’s left. They lived to come back to us when it would have been easier to die. They came to help us change. Singing Bird went back to that time and led them here. I was born to help change our fate, too. This is what my power is for. For you! For them! For all the people everywhere, so that in the long time to come, better choices will be made, and Firewalker’s anger will never burn, and people of all nations and colors will not die.”

  “This Firewalker. Is this a spirit?” Votan asked.

  “No, it was a solid mass, alive and burning as it fell from the sky.”

  They frowned and began whispering to each other.

  “We have never seen such a thing and do not believe this is possible,” Votan said. “If you have this great power, then show us what Firewalker is like.”

  “You want to see Firewalker and his wrath?” Tyhen asked.

  “Yes, yes, we want to see,” Votan said. “It is why we came.”

  Tyhen walked all the way down the temple steps until she was standing on the playa in front of them.

  “Then look into my eyes.”

  Chapter Four

  The shamans moved closer.

  Tyhen didn’t retreat and, without hesitation, took herself back onto the Navajo Reservation; to the Canyon de Chelly and Layla Birdsong’s race to save her people. And when she went, she took them with her.

  Although no one else could see what they were seeing, it was immediately obvious the shamans were shaken by their first glimpses of the future. They drew closer together, holding onto each other in fear of what was before them and seeing things for which they had no name. They saw a massive gathering of people and the cars they came in, the motorcycles on which they sat, the strange clothing and burned faces and bleeding lips, the land without trees or water.

  In their frame of reference, they were seeing thousands of people in great distress, walking among large shiny demons that made growling noises as they rolled, and sometimes spewed smoke and swallowed people, only to spit them out as they chose, still alive and in one piece and uneaten.

  They saw the fireball in the sky and death all around as the people moved through the barren canyons. They saw babies crying, people dying, and animals attacking people and the same animals attacking each other.

  When they saw Layla Birdsong leading the way on the motorcycle Niyol left behind, the strange clothing that she wore, and the vast numbers of people behind her, they were in awe that it was a woman who led them.

  The farther Tyhen took them, the hotter it became until sweat ran down their faces and their eyes were squinting against the great Firewalker’s glare. Their breathing was becoming labored, as if they, too, were on the march.

  When their lips dried, cracked, and then began to bleed, Votan moaned. He wanted it to stop but he couldn’t look away. The shaman beside him suddenly grabbed his chest and dropped down to his knees, his face contorted with pain.

  “Make it stop. Make it stop.”

  Tyhen didn’t hear them. In her head she was safe within Layla’s belly, but still with the people.

  One shaman suddenly looked up, then screamed and covered his face, but it was too late. Firewalker had taken his sight.

  When the shamans’ skin began to blister, their guards stepped back in fear and turned away, afraid that what was happening to the shamans they’d been sent to guard would happen to them as well.

  The shamans were trembling, their muscles jerking with spasms. In their heads, they were running now, running with the woman who led them, running through a land of canyons devoid of everything but rocks and sand and they knew they were going to die. Their bodies burned as with terrible fevers, and the smell of cooking flesh was in the air. The fireball in the sky was coming closer and growing hotter. People who had been running began to falter and fall. One shaman began to weep. Another prayed for a quick death and still they watched because she wouldn’t let go.

  Just when they believed they could not take another step, they saw the portal begin to open, and the people ran toward it with the renewed hope that they would not die after all.

  The shamans felt as if they were running with them and understood the portal meant salvation. It wasn’t until they saw who held it open that they realized the Old Ones had come to save them. And so they ran for their lives while the world behind them exploded and burned.

  The moment they were through the portal, Tyhen blinked. Released from her vision, the shamans dropped, crying and moaning from the pain.

  She saw the shamans prostrate on the ground before her. All of them had suffered burns in varying degrees. Some were openly wee
ping, stunned by the devastation they had seen. The one who had been struck blind was dying, and the one who’d grabbed his chest was already dead.

  Tyhen had not known that would happen to them, but the moment that thought went through her head, she heard Adam’s voice.

  You only did what they asked.

  She turned around and looked up at the twins. They were watching her and they were right. She had only done what they asked.

  Votan lifted his hand. “You are a woman of great power. We saw Firewalker and we saw the New Ones. We saw them suffer and we saw them dying. Forgive our doubts. Forgive our hurtful words. Forgive me.”

  “I’m sorry for your pain, but I only did as you asked. I don’t need your apologies. I need all of you to go back to your people and tell them what you saw. Send your visions to other shamans. Send them as far as they will go and keep them moving. Fighting among ourselves made us weak. We lost our way and Firewalker destroyed the world. In the days to come, New Ones will come into your cities to share their knowledge. They know where we went wrong. We have to be smarter and stronger so when the strangers come, we meet them united—many tribes but one people.

  Votan moaned. “Yes, I will. We will.”

  Women began coming out of the crowd and offering water to the shamans while others came to tend to their wounds and carry away the dead. A short time later, they were seen staggering out of the city far less confrontational than when they’d come in.

  Cayetano hated what had happened. It brought a dark cloud on what should have been a week of celebration and he blamed Ah Kin.

  He turned and pointed at his shaman. “We will talk.”

  Ah Kin was picking nervously at a scab on his arm, oblivious that it had begun to bleed, and when he saw the look on Cayetano’s face, he turned and scurried back up the temple steps.

  “End the ceremony, my love,” Singing Bird said softly.

  Cayetano lifted his arms and smiled at the mass of people before him.

  “The discord is behind us. The festival has begun. It is time to celebrate the good harvest. Eat. Feast. Thank the gods for what they have given us.”

  The cheer that rose from the crowd was so loud that all the birds from the nearby jungle took flight. There were so many colors in the sky at once that it looked as if a rainbow had just shattered into a million pieces.

  Yuma was in awe of how Tyhen had handled the incident and whispered in her ear.

  “It is good. They see you now as the peacemaker... the dove, but you do not fly in fear like your feathered friends.”

  She was exhausted, but at peace. The thing she had dreaded was behind her. She leaned against him, grateful for his presence.

  “I have no fear with you at my side,” she said softly.

  Yuma’s heart swelled. Today he had seen the woman she would become.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I wish to separate myself from this festival, at least for a while until people have some time to forget about what happened.”

  Yuma slid a hand beneath her hair, cupping the back of her neck. He could feel the tension in her body and could only guess what it had cost her to show the shamans that vision.

  “I’ll take you back. It appears Cayetano has business with Ah Kin, and your mother is already making her guards nervous as she walks away with old friends.”

  Tyhen saw her mother leaving with Shirley Nantay and an assortment of young children, most of whom were her students. The family had long since grown used to Singing Bird’s dual allegiance. They knew she loved her family more than her own life, but a part of her heart would always be with the New Ones.

  Tyhen was still watching the animation on her mother’s face when her attention suddenly shifted to Adam and Evan. They came running, both talking at once.

  “Ah Kin is in trouble,” Evan said.

  “And Cayetano is furious,” Adam added.

  “As he should be,” Yuma said. “I’m taking Tyhen back to the palace to rest.”

  “We’re coming, too,” Adam said.

  Evan grinned. “The young women are flirting. It makes Adam nervous.”

  Adam shrugged. “We have no interest in women. It is wasted on us and the easiest way to end it is to remove ourselves. So, let’s go. The day is getting hot.”

  They started back to the palace, making their way through the festival-happy crowd. Tyhen was happy just walking at Yuma’s side and listening to the chatter when all the voices began to fade.

  She was looking down, but she didn’t see the stark white limestone pathways on which she was walking or the sandals on her feet. Instead, some kind of thick fur had been wrapped and tied around her feet all the way up to her knees. Her clothing was heavy and strange, and the cloak covering her entire body was made of some kind of animal skin. She could see the animal from which it had come, but did not have a name for it, and she didn’t know where she was.

  As she walked, something white was falling from the sky. The air hurt her face, and when it went up her nose it burned. She was sad—so sad, but she didn’t know why.

  By the time they reached the palace, the tears were so thick in her throat she was afraid to open her mouth for fear she’d scream. This would be her last festival and she would be gone from everyone she loved, gone from Naaki Chava, never to return.

  She stumbled. When she would have fallen, Yuma steadied her stride and his presence was an affirmation of what was promised to her in the midst of her pain. She would not be gone from Yuma. He would be always at her side and it would be enough.

  ***

  Ah Kin had run up the temple steps into the door at the top, then down the inner stairs to his chambers. He stopped just inside the room, eyeing the place that had long been his home, remembering how he had come here as a novice.

  Back then, he’d only had the gift of sight and had been taught the other tricks and deceptions practiced by the older shamans. Now he knew how to create illusion, and how to incite people with mythology and fear. He’d known everything there was to know about staying in power, and it had been enough until Singing Bird returned with the New Ones. After that, it began to go fade.

  Chak, their oldest shaman, had betrayed Cayetano and died with the chief’s spear in his back. Another shaman died a year later from snake bite. One by one, the shamans died from natural causes, leaving Ah Kin as the last, and this pitiful existence was all he had left.

  A torch burned from a stand near the table where he took his meals, highlighting the thin layer of dust that covered everything in the room. It was a shock, seeing it with new eyes, even more proof of how he’d been deluding himself.

  He had no place to hide. He’d gambled on the visiting shamans being able to turn the people against Cayetano and his daughter, but he’d lost. He could try and sneak out while the festival was in full swing, but he was an old man and there was no way he could trek through the jungle to another city safely, nor did he have any hope of finding a place for himself there if he tried. He closed his eyes and concentrated, looking for a vision that would tell him what to do, but he got nothing.

  When he began to hear voices, he panicked. Cayetano was coming. He hadn’t expected him this soon. So did he stay and face the great chief’s wrath, or end this his way now? The answer was a given as he ran into an anteroom, then to a large, lidded jar on the floor next to a prayer altar.

  His hands were shaking as he removed the lid, then took a deep breath and thrust his arm into the jar, waiting for the strike. When the snake’s long, saber-like fangs pierced the flesh in his wrist and the fire began crawling up the inside of his arm, he wet himself.

  The Fer de Lance venom was deadly and already coursing through his body as the thick-bodied snake came out of the jar. Ah Kin stood up and staggered backward, hit a wall and slid down onto his backside as the snake slithered to the doorway and out of sight.
/>   Seconds later, Ah Kin’s eyes rolled back in his head as the muscles in his body began to seize. The venom was destroying tissue with every heartbeat. Soon everything inside him began to bleed. The first tiny droplets of blood came out as tears. Then he began to bleed from his ears and from his nose, then from the corners of his mouth. The voices he’d heard earlier were closer now, but they would be too late. He would escape Cayetano after all.

  ***

  Cayetano found Ah Kin lying in a pool of blood, then saw the empty jar and the lid lying on the floor. When he saw the bite mark on his wrist, he knew what Ah Kin had done, and why.

  “The Fer de Lance is loose. Find it and kill it.”

  A half-dozen of his guards raised their torches and left to search the temple while the others stayed at his side, awaiting his orders. He had no empathy for the dead man at his feet and wanted him gone. He turned away in disgust as he picked out four of the guards.

  “Take him away.”

  The four guards saw the fury in his eyes and the jerk of muscles along his jaw and were almost afraid to ask.

  “And what should we do with his body?”

  He tossed his head as if the answer was obvious. “He betrayed me and he is a disgrace to our ancestors. Burn it.” He then strode out of the temple with the rest of the guards at his heels.

  ***

  It was a relief to get back to the palace and out of the growing heat of the day. Acat was at the festival, as were most of the servants, so it was Yuma who was left to tend to Tyhen. Her behavior was strange and it was beginning to concern him.

  The twins went to the kitchen in search of food, leaving them alone. When they got to her room, he took off her sandals and the heavy turquoise collar she’d been wearing, then dipped a cloth in the basin of water and began wiping her face and neck, trying to cool her skin. She was shaking, and he thought it was from the heat and exhaustion. He had no way of knowing she was still locked into a vision and getting her first taste of what it was like to be cold.