The Dove Page 6

  He poured some water into a cup and then lifted her head, urging her to drink.

  “Just take a sip, Tyhen. It will cool you.”

  But she couldn’t hear him. She was no longer in the land of cold and white, but in the jungle watching a mountain breaking apart and wondering if they were going to die. Smoke and rocks were shooting into the air while a river of fire flowed down the side, sweeping everything away in its path. In her head she was screaming the word “run,” but she couldn’t tell who was with her, only that she wasn’t alone.

  Unaware of what was happening to her, Yuma poured a tiny bit of water into her mouth.

  The moment it hit Tyhen’s tongue she choked and coughed. And just like that, the vision was gone. She was in her room, and Yuma was kneeling at her side.

  “I had a vision.”

  Yuma saw the tears in her eyes, laid the wet cloth aside, and pulled her into his lap. He smiled as she settled easily into the familiarity of his embrace.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “This is my last festival.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “No. You aren’t old enough to—”

  “What is old enough? I have a purpose and it has been shown to me. There is nothing more to be said.”

  He bowed his head and closed his eyes, trying not to think of the dangers within the impossible tasks lying ahead of them. But he’d pledged his love and life to her the day she’d been born. Now it was time to make good on that promise.

  “So when does this happen?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure, but soon in the days to come. There are many things I need to learn first and I will learn them from the New Ones.”

  “What can I do to help you?” he asked.

  She laid a hand on his chest. “Just help me stay strong, as strong as your heart.”

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “It will be done,” he said softly. “But not today, not during the festival.”

  She leaned closer.

  “We will do it after the festival?”

  “Yes. We will do it after.”

  ***

  After the discovery of Ah Kin’s body, Cayetano went to find Singing Bird. He had no stomach for celebrating today, yet he would not leave her down in the city without him. But when the people saw their chief and his guards coming through the streets, they ran out with food and drink, wanting to share their bounty.

  Cayetano and his guards accepted graciously and his disposition improved as the food settled in his belly. They ate as they walked, following the drum sounds all the way to the sector where the New Ones lived.

  He didn’t come down into the city often, but every time he did, he could see the changes in the people’s lifestyle and the influences the New Ones had brought to their world.

  The streets in Naaki Chava were made of limestone-type bricks like the playa surrounding the temple, but the small bamboo huts and thatched roofs the people had always lived in were slowly being replaced with what Singing Bird called houses, like smaller versions of the palace.

  They had found different uses for the edible plants growing wild in the jungle that they’d taken back into the city and cultivated into their fields.

  They trapped young tapirs in the jungle then carried them back to their homes, put them in pens and fed them out for killing as needed, instead of having to always go hunt. A few years back, some traders from the mountains had come in with birds they called chickens that laid an egg every day and raw wool, which the women turned into blankets. The cotton grown in the Naaki Chava fields, they turned into their style of clothing. Now, after some bargaining, the traders came at least twice, sometimes three times a year, keeping the New Ones in chickens and wool. In return for the shelter the New Ones had been given, they had brought a new way of life to Naaki Chava.

  As Cayetano neared the houses where the Nantay brothers lived, the drumming was so loud he could feel the beat inside his chest, and the singing that accompanied it made the hair rise on the back of his neck. He didn’t understand the words. Singing Bird said it was in the Navajo language, but he liked how the rise and fall of the voices matched the rhythm of the drumbeat.

  He quickened his step, anxious to see the dancers in their ceremonial dress. It was unlike anything the people in Naaki Chava wore, but beautiful just the same.

  He was greeted warmly as he walked toward their dwelling, but his gaze was on the crowd around the drummers. Singing Bird would be somewhere nearby. And then he saw her still wearing her ceremonial dress, but with more feathers in her hair in the tradition of Layla Birdsong’s Muscogee tribe.

  It was always hard to watch, knowing there was a part of her heart and memories that he would never be able to share, but it was part of his penance for helping create the discord that had led to Firewalker’s wrath.

  Within seconds of his arrival, it was obvious Singing Bird had sensed his presence. She suddenly turned, scanning the crowd until she saw him, then lifted her arm into the air and waved.

  And just like that, the spark of Cayetano’s jealousy was gone and he felt nothing but gratitude that she was alive and well and still his woman.

  He moved toward her, threading his way through the crowd, and as soon as the people saw who it was, they gave way. She slipped a hand beneath his arm and gave him a questioning look, knowing he’d gone to confront the old shaman. He shrugged as if to say it was over, then turned his attention to the dancers and the drums and let the beat flow through him.

  Chapter Five

  In the ensuing days, Tyhen threw herself into the festivities and only Yuma knew why. She was making memories, and in a way, also saying good-bye to a way of life she would leave behind. While his heart hurt for her, there was a part of him that was ready to leave. He wanted to go home, even though he accepted that what was there would be unrecognizable to what he’d known. But he wanted to breathe the air and walk the land, and he believed he would feel the connection in his soul. He ached for the chance to help his people, the Cherokee, escape Firewalker’s wrath.

  The third day of the festival was the day of games, and teams had been practicing for weeks. The traditional stick ball games were for the men and always a popular one to watch, but it was the thing the New Ones played that Tyhen liked best. They called it called baseball and she’d grown up playing it with the children her mother taught. Although she was a child no more, it didn’t matter. The game was played by people of all ages. They hit a ball with a stick, then ran around designated places on the ground they called bases. It was easy to hit the ball. The hard part was running around all four bases before someone threw the ball back. She had long legs and she could run. She wanted to play ball again, to run with the wind in her hair and the sun on her face and know the only thing to worry about was beating the throw that would put her out.

  She was digging through the trunk that held her clothing, looking for one particular shift. It was comfortable and old and easy to run in, but she hadn’t had it on it in many months.

  As soon as she found it, she stripped out of her other clothing and pulled it over her head. It was a little tighter across the chest, but that was because her breasts had grown. Even more disconcerting was the fact it was now at least a hand’s width above her knees. She pulled a little, trying to stretch it and then shrugged. It didn’t matter. She was only going to play. She was wearing sandals to walk down to the city, but she would play ball in her bare feet, and was so excited to be going that she was almost bouncing as she left her room.

  Acat caught up with her in the hall and made noises about the less-than-ceremonial style of her clothing, but Tyhen just laughed and waved her away.

  “I go to play ball,” she said.

  “You do not go alone,” Acat said.

  Tyhen frowned. “I have before.”

  “But this is festival and there are many strangers in the city. It might
not be safe.”

  Tyhen sighed. She hadn’t thought of that. Already, the glow had been taken off the day. She was still standing in the hall, trying to figure out what to do next when Yuma came around a corner. The moment he saw her he lengthened his stride.

  Tyhen’s heart skipped a beat. Just watching him walk made her belly ache. His face was pleasing to her eyes. She’d seen him without clothing plenty of times, but all of a sudden the thought of standing before him without her clothes seemed daring, even shocking. Heat rose within her, flushing her face.

  Before she had time to gather her thoughts, he was talking and she had to concentrate to catch up on the conversation.

  “...are you going?”

  “What? What did you say?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I asked, where are you going?”

  “I wanted to go play ball with the New Ones, but Acat says I cannot go alone.”

  He glanced at Acat. “I will take her and stay with her until the game is done.”

  Acat nodded, confident she’d done her part to keep Tyhen safe. She was still uneasy that she’d let Tyhen get away from her in the market the day the big bird tried to take the baby, and didn’t want a repeat of that incident or something worse.

  “Can we go now?” Tyhen asked.

  “Yes. I just need to deliver a message to Singing Bird on the way out.”

  She followed him to the kitchen, then out through the back door. “How do you know where she is?”

  “The twins told me.”

  “Is anything wrong?” she asked.

  “No. Nothing is wrong. They wanted to let her know that some of the New Ones who had moved away a few years ago have come back for the festival.”

  He stopped to pull a strand of hair out of her eyelashes then smoothed it down into place. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before, but to Tyhen, it felt different. He was so close she could see the bead of sweat rolling out of his hairline. The urge to touch him was so strong she physically shuddered and looked away.

  Unaware of her thoughts, Yuma held her hand as they walked through the garden, satisfied just to be with her.

  “There she is,” Tyhen said, pointing toward the clearing where they grew squash and corn.

  Singing Bird heard them, looked up, and waved, then picked up the basket of vegetables she’d just gathered and started back to the palace. Yuma ran to meet her, relieving her of her burden as they walked back together to Tyhen.

  Singing Bird took one look at her daughter’s clothing and frowned.

  “That is not suitable for the festival.”

  “I go to play ball,” Tyhen said.

  “You are the daughter of the chief. You should not—”

  Tyhen lifted her head; her eyes suddenly blurred with unshed tears.

  “No, Mother, I am the Windwalker’s daughter and this will be my last festival. Allow me to pretend one more time that my life is still my own.”

  Singing Bird reeled as if she’d been slapped. Her chin quivered as she struggled not to cry, then she gave up and threw her arms around her daughter, too stunned to let go.

  Tyhen was shaking from the sudden burst of emotion as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and rested her chin on the top of Singing Bird’s head. It was strange to be a child so tall with a mother so small.

  Singing Bird felt Tyhen’s sorrow and looked up, then frowned and wiped the tears from her daughter’s cheeks.

  “I am sorry. I did not plan this, or ever dream your life would be this way.”

  Tyhen sighed. “It’s not your fault. It is my destiny. I’m sorry I acted so childishly.”

  Singing Bird shook her head and then gave Tyhen a gentle push. “Go and play. Run with the wind.”

  Tyhen smiled. “Yes, I can do that.”

  Yuma’s heart was sad for both mother and daughter, but like Tyhen, his path had been chosen for him as well. He’d just had a longer time to get used to it, and he remembered he still hadn’t delivered his message to Singing Bird.

  “Adam and Evan sent me to tell you that Betty Tiger is at the festival. You will find her at her parents’ home.”

  Singing Bird’s heart was breaking. She had not expected Tyhen’s journey to begin so soon, but she would not let her know how she felt. Having the excuse of old friends to see was perfect timing.

  “This is wonderful news, but I have dirt on my clothing and have to change.” She took the basket from Yuma’s hands. “Go enjoy your time, daughter. I will see you later.” Then she hurried away.

  “She’s sad,” Yuma said.

  Tyhen shrugged. “So am I.”

  Yuma frowned. “What can I do to make this better?”

  “Take me down to the city.”

  ***

  Whack!

  The impact of the handmade baseball against the bat was music to Tyhen’s ears. It was the pitch she had been waiting for and the ball sailed over the pitcher’s head in a perfect arc. She was already running past first and heading to second when the ball began to descend. She was on her way to third base when the boy in the field dropped the ball.

  At that point, her legs were stretched out in a long, rapid stride. Her hair was flying out behind her, her arms churning against her side as her bare feet kicked up dust with every step.

  “Run, whirlwind, run!” Yuma yelled, laughing and cheering with the rest of her team as she rounded third and headed for home.

  The fielder was scrambling to get a grip on the ball. His throw was strong, but Tyhen’s legs were long. She was almost home before the ball left his hand.

  She caught sight of the ball from the corner of her eye as it sailed past the pitcher. She threw herself into a slide. The shift she was wearing rode up her legs as she slid into home in a cloud of dust.

  “Safe!” the umpire called.

  Tyhen was grinning as she got up dusting off her backside. She looked around for Yuma and saw him laughing and cheering just before her teammates came rushing to congratulate her. Her home run had won the game.

  “Tyhen! Tyhen!” they shouted while laughing and clapping her on the back.

  The sun was in her eyes and she could taste blood where she’d bitten her lip as she slid home, but this was a feeling she would never forget. Someone thrust a cup of juice in her hand. She drank it thirstily then handed it back for another.

  The players began gathering up their belongings, making way for yet another pair of teams to compete. They could have stayed to watch, but Tyhen was hungry and Yuma was waiting.

  One of her teammates patted her on the back, still smiling from the victory. “You are so fast! You have to promise be on our team every festival,” she said.

  And just like that, the joy was over. Tyhen managed to keep the smile on her face as she nodded in agreement, but that was never going to happen. When Yuma came up behind her and slipped a hand around her waist, she leaned against him.

  “I’ll bet you’re tired and I know you’re hungry,” he said. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

  Even though she felt hollow inside, she kept a smile on her face as she nodded in agreement.

  “That hit was amazing!” Yuma said.

  “It made a loud noise,” she said.

  “Sounded like a gunshot,” Yuma said, then caught himself. She might not remember what that meant, but when she didn’t comment, he realized where her thoughts had gone and knew there was nothing he could say to make it better.

  ***

  Singing Bird visited with the friends she’d invited to the palace and ate the food she served them without giving herself away. She hid her sorrow as they left and continued to keep it within her all through the evening, until the sun was gone.

  She was standing at the window, staring up at the moon, when emotion finally overwhelmed her. She dropped to her knees and began to sob. I
t was a full-circle moment. She’d lost Niyol in the Arizona canyons, and now she was losing his daughter as well. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She’d sacrificed herself to change Cayetano’s fate and fallen in love with the spirit he became. Now she was losing the child she’d made with the Windwalker, and it was like losing him all over again. How many times could a heart break before it quit beating?

  Cayetano heard her crying before he opened the door, and the sound lent speed to his steps. He raced into their quarters, slamming the door behind him as he scooped her up in his arms.

  “My love! My heart! What has happened to make you so sad?”

  She just shook her head and covered her face as he carried her to their bed. His voice was gruff, betraying his building anger and concern.

  “Has someone harmed you? Did they insult you? I will find them and break their neck.”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” she said and began wiping her face, trying to get her emotions under control. The last thing they needed was for Cayetano to go on a rampage. “Tyhen told me this will be her last festival. She will be gone from Naaki Chava within the year and we will never see her again.”

  Cayetano closed his eyes against the pain. This was his fault, his penance, his price to pay. The woman he loved more than life had not only sacrificed herself to save his soul and their people, but now she was sacrificing her only child to the quest as well.

  “I am sorry.”

  Singing Bird heard the devastation in his voice, quickly wiped away her tears, and put her arms around his neck.

  “No, it is not your doing any more than mine. It is what it is, and that is all. I’m just sad, but this happens to many parents. Children pick their partner and walk away to a new life. It is how life is meant to be lived. I have you, my love, I have you, and it will always be enough.”

  Her sorrow had shredded his soul. He loved her so much it hurt to draw breath. “You are my heart. If you cry, it does not beat.”

  She stood up, unwrapped her shift, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

  Cayetano dropped his own clothing and laid her down on their bed. He was already erect and aching as he slid into the warmth between her legs. No matter how many times he made love to his woman, it always felt like their first time, back when they were young and their blood was hot, back when it was magic.