The elder paused in his tale, looking sideways at Wo'itsa. He hesitated, as if his next words would bring him great pain. “He broke the most sacred law when he killed his own brother, Naatosi. He did not stop there, and had a hand in the death of Matunaaga and his wife, as well as the guardian of Natukendra’eh in the future. The child he has searched for the longest is Natukendra’eh, and he will not rest until she is dead, as well.”
Wo'itsa gripped the vessel in his hand. Anger consumed him. No one would harm his wife, not even an elder of the Sky People. If Naatoyita spoke the truth, then Mukua had deceived him when he’d said that all he’d wanted was Kendra’s vessel and then he would send her back to her time in the future.
Cold fear raced down Wo'itsa’s spine. What would have happened if he had succeeded in taking the vessel from her when Mukua had first demanded it? Would the elder have killed Kendra?
Naatoyita glanced at the vessel in Wo'itsa’s hand. “The right thing to do is destroy the vessels to clear the correct path of the future once and for all. It has always been the destiny of the descendants of the leaders to protect the mountains,” Naatoyita continued.
“What about the leaders of the Wolf Clan?”
Naatoyita stopped and looked him in the eyes. “You are the son of the leader of the Wolf Clan. The wolves have always looked out for the bears.” He shook his head as sadness clouded his eyes. “It is something both clans forgot because neither side would listen to the other or work together when it was foretold that change was coming to the mountains.”
After a stretch of silence, the elder continued. “The wolves are the master hunters of the mountains. They provide food for the bears. In turn, the bears, with their strength, are the protectors. What the wolves lack in strength, they make up with cunning. Wolves and bears look out for each other. So it has always been, and so it shall be in the future, Wo'itsa. Your bloodline will be there to protect the line of the bear, whose calling it is to oversee the changes happening to the mountains. Your union with Natukendra’eh joins the lines together as one.”
Wo'itsa raised his head into the breeze, which softly rustled the leaves in the trees overhead. He followed when the elder continued walking.
“In my vision, the wolves were leading the people to safety, but the bears wouldn’t let them.”
Naatoyita cackled as he laughed. “Mukua gave that vision to you to deceive you. He sensed your strong puha, but I do not know if he has guessed your true identity. He believed – correctly – that by leading you in your vision, he could find Natukendra’eh.”
Wo'itsa’s stomach churned. It was because of his vision that Matunaaga was dead, and it had also led Mukua to Kendra. He was suddenly reminded of the part of his vision where he’d seen the bear arguing with the younger she-bear who had changed into a wolf and back into a bear. It had been Kendra arguing with Matunaaga shortly before Matunaaga’s death. It all seemed clear to him now.
The elder placed his hand on Wo'itsa’s arm. “It is not your fault. It is my doing as much as it is that of Mukua. I should have come to you sooner and revealed your true identity.” He paused and let out a long sigh. “Naatosi and I believed we could keep your identity hidden. We did not foresee that Mukua would cross your path when you met the woman, Kayla.”
Wo'itsa stared from the bow he clutched in one hand to the vessel he held in the other. His jaw muscles tightened and relaxed as he wrestled with his thoughts. Finally, he raised his head to look at the elder, who stood quietly before him. Inhaling deeply, he handed the vessel to Naatoyita.
The elder took the snakehead. He nodded in satisfaction and stuffed the vessel into his medicine pouch that hung from his neck.
“This vessel will be destroyed, but first it needs to serve one more purpose.”
“What purp –?”
Wo'itsa didn’t finish the word. He’d glanced up at that moment toward the river in the distance. His heart plunged to his stomach. By the water were three figures. One woman held a child in her arms. The other woman, Kendra, jumped in front of the woman with the child just as a knife flew through the air, aimed at her. She fell to the ground.
“Kendra!”
Wo'itsa ran. His breath was lost in his throat. He clutched his father’s bow, but the weapon was useless at the moment. Naatoyita had not yet given him the quiver and arrows.
His hair flew around his face as he sprinted toward the river. His focus was on the fourth person by the water.
Mukua
The elder had thrown a knife at Kendra! Wo'itsa’s mind grappled with what his own eyes had seen. The elder had tried to kill Kendra. Fear and anger mixed into one as he ran faster. Had Mukua succeeded? Kendra was still on the ground, and Riley screamed for her husband.
“What have you done?” Wo'itsa roared as he reached the banks of the river. Without hesitating, he grabbed Mukua by the shirt. The elder clutched at Wo'itsa’s arm, and then everything went dark.
Chapter 29
“Wo'itsa, it is good that you have returned to me.”
Wo'itsa faced the elder, still swaying slightly on his feet after unexpectedly traveling through time. He glared at Mukua, who stood opposite him with wide eyes directed at the bow Wo'itsa clutched in his hand.
“I did not return to you.”
Wo'itsa’s stare didn’t waver. Rage coursed through him, unlike any he’d ever felt. Every part of him, every instinct urged him to grab the elder again and put his knife through him, yet something held him back. If he killed Mukua, he would be no different than the elder.
His own father had succumbed to the weakness that had destroyed all the Sky People. If he repeated the actions of his ancestors, nothing would be learned from their mistakes.
Wo'itsa advanced on the old man, every muscle taut. “You attacked my wife. She may already be dead at your hand.”
The elder raised his head. Surprise flashed in his eyes. His features hardened, but he recovered quickly. “Wife?”
“Natukendra’eh is my wife, and you may have killed her.”
Mukua shook his head. The wrinkles along his lips deepened with his sudden smile. His body relaxed, and he turned away from Wo'itsa. He shuffled to a nearby boulder, and lowered himself to sit.
“You mistake what you saw, Wo'itsa. I came upon the women by the river, and I wanted to speak to the wife of Cameahwait, to make peace with her husband.” Mukua glanced at Wo'itsa with an expectant look on his face. “After you left me, I went to reflect and meditate in the mountains. It became clear to me that you are conflicted by my teachings. I have returned to try again and to make peace with everyone.”
“Yet you attacked the woman who is my wife.” Wo'itsa repeated as he continued to glare at the elder, towering over him. The old man hadn’t moved.
“I attacked no one. Natukendra’eh saw me approach, and she threatened me. I was defending myself.”
Wo'itsa paused. He blinked in an effort to refresh his mind regarding what he had seen. “You threw a knife at her. I saw her fall. I do not know if she is alive or dead.”
Mukua’s face hardened. He frowned with confusion, staring at Wo'itsa as if he’d been insulted. He rose to his feet, placing his hand on Wo'itsa’s arm.
“The Sky People elders do not kill, Wo'itsa.” His voice was calm and subdued. “Has the shaman of your clan not taught you better? I tossed a stick at Natukendra’eh to prevent her from attacking me further. She has not been harmed.”
Wo'itsa blinked again. The temporary dizziness that always accompanied time traveling seemed to cloud his mind. Kendra had fallen from the impact of the object that had hit her. It couldn’t have been his imagination. Had it been a knife, or merely a stick as the elder said? He couldn’t be sure now. Perhaps he had assumed it had been a knife when he’d seen her and Mukua facing each other by the river.
“You lie, old man. You have broken the sacred laws of the Sky People before by killing your own brother. Too many times have I witnessed you trying to harm people. Return me to my wife before I
forget who I am and take your vessel by force.”
The old man cackled with laughter, but then his eyes narrowed slightly. “Who you are? I see that my brother, Naatoyita, has gotten into your head, as has Natukendra’eh. They have filled your mind with untruths.”
Mukua again stared at the bow in Wo'itsa’s hand. His eyes gleamed with recognition, then a new understanding seemed to come over him. He approached slowly, and reached his hand out to run his fingers along the upper limb of the bow. He glanced up at Wo'itsa with his eyes slightly narrowed.
“This bow belonged to the leader of the Wolf Clan. Where did you get it?”
Wo'itsa gripped the weapon and held it up. “It was given to me by Naatoyita. He told me it belonged to my father, the leader of the Wolf Clan.”
The elder’s head snapped up to fully stare at Wo'itsa. A new understanding was apparent on his face.
“Of course,” he whispered. “That explains your powerful puha.” He stared for a long time, as if he was thinking and making sense of what he’d been told.
“I should have known the first time we met. I see the resemblance now. You do favor your father.” Mukua continued to stare, his eyes roaming over Wo'itsa as if seeing him for the first time.
“It appears your mother was very clever when she announced that you were stillborn, but why? Your father mourned your death, and his grief drove him into battle. Your mother must have had help from the clan’s shaman, Pahamittsi Puhagand. She was Natukendra’eh’s mother. . . and a traitor to the Wolf Clan.”
Wo'itsa gritted his teeth. Everything he’d been told by the elder of the Bear Clan, as well as the woman who had raised him, confirmed Mukua’s tale. They, however, had not called Pahamittsi a traitor. She’d only wanted peace among the clans and had gone to her brother, the shaman of the Bear Clan, for help.
“My mother saved my life when she gave me up to be raised as an ordinary Tukudeka,” Wo'itsa defended.
The elder nodded. He smiled with great approval. “And now that you have united with Natukendra’eh, the Wolf Clan is victorious. You will be a great leader like your father before you.”
“You are wrong, Mukua. Natukendra’eh and I will honor the memories of both clans. There is no one, single victor.”
The elder hesitated, then finally nodded. “You speak wisely, like your father. The visions and legends of the Sky People will live on through you and your wife. Your descendants will be the true protectors of our sacred mountains.”
Wo'itsa studied the elder. Mukua was a difficult man to read. Were his words sincere? Perhaps he had truly reflected on making peace between himself and his brother.
“We have both known the loss of someone who held our hearts, Mukua, but I have learned that it is best to move on. We cannot change what has happened.”
Mukua glanced at him with watery eyes. He paused as if considering Wo'itsa’s words, then grasped Wo'itsa’s arm again and gave it a squeeze. “You speak like a true leader of the Sky People. Your father would be proud of you.”
The elder stepped away and gazed out at the mountains that surrounded them. Wo'itsa came up next to him. For several seconds, they stood in silence.
“I have tried repeatedly to go back to a time before the death of my wife to save her, but my puha is not strong enough. When the original vessel was created, there was talk that it could be done, but only by someone with great puha.”
“I understand your grief, Mukua, but perhaps it is time to go forward now, and not dwell on the past. We all lost someone in that senseless war. You have grieved for your wife long enough. She is gone, and there is nothing that will bring her back. The grief to which you cling so tightly does nothing to change the past, yet it hardens your heart to anything good in the future. As an elder of the Sky People, you must do what is best for the protection of the sacred mountains.”
Mukua faced him. He squared his shoulders, then pulled his vessel from the pouch around his neck. “You are right, Wo'itsa. It seems that the student has become the teacher. For that, we shall go to where you last saw your wife.”
Wo'itsa smiled. The elder had truly understood what he’d said. Perhaps it was not too late for him to make peace with his brother, Naatoyita.
“Take my hand, Wo'itsa.”
Mukua reached for him. Wo'itsa hesitated. Could he trust the elder? If he wanted to return to Kendra, he had no choice but to trust him. He clasped the old man’s wrist. The elder closed his eyes and pressed his finger to the vessel’s red stone. The darkness that followed was immediate.
The sound of water lapping against a riverbank and flowing with the current brought him back to his senses. Wo'itsa squinted into the sunlight, and for the second time in the same day – or what seemed to be the same day – he stood on wobbly legs as his body shook off the effects from time traveling. A quick glance around confirmed that he stood along the banks of the Yellowstone River in the same spot where he’d been only a short time before. Next to him, Mukua groaned as he stood.
The elder had been true to his word. Wo'itsa picked up his horn bow off the ground and glanced in all directions. He and Mukua were the only ones here, however.
Wo'itsa’s heart sped up. Apprehension flowed through him. Something didn’t seem quite right. Why was everything so quiet? The grasses along the banks of the river grew tall, and he could barely make out the overgrown trail that had been created by Riley and Cameahwait from their cabin to the river.
Wo'itsa stared in the direction where the cabin should have been visible along the stand of trees a short distance away. The trees seemed to have grown taller, and their number had increased from what he remembered was there. There was no smoke rising from any chimney.
Without waiting for the elder, Wo'itsa headed in the direction of the cabin. He’d gone about halfway when he stopped and stared. The cabin was not there, at least not the way it should have been. A pile of partially burned wood lay strewn around the ruins of a stone fireplace and chimney. Many of the stones appeared to have toppled to the ground. The area surrounding the cabin was as overgrown with grasses and sage as the trail leading to the river.
“Kendra.”
Wo'itsa moved faster to reach the rubble of wood and rocks. Even from a distance, it was clear there was no one else present. Several ravens took to the air from their perches on the rubble that had once been Cameahwait’s home. The deep, rasping sounds of their protesting caw-caws were the only sound other than the river cutting through the stillness of the valley.
Wo'itsa spun around. Mukua was slowly walking in his direction.
“You brought us back to a different time. What happened here?”
As Mukua surveyed the area, a surprised frown marred his face and his eyes clouded with something that could have been anger.
“It appears as if everyone has left the valley.”
“How long ago?” Wo'itsa glanced over his shoulder at the ruins. He swiped away strands of his hair that the breeze blew into his face. “This appears to have happened many seasons ago.” His eyes fell to an area that looked to have been an outside cooking fire, but it, too, was overgrown with weeds.
What had happened here? A growing sense of dread spread through Wo'itsa’s chest. Something was terribly wrong here, and by the look on Mukua’s face, the elder hadn’t expected to return to the cabin abandoned and in ruins.
Mukua studied the ground as intently as Wo'itsa had been doing. “This is my brother’s doing,” he said, almost under his breath. When he looked up, a spark of anger flashed in his eyes.
“I will find them,” he vowed. His face had hardened into a hateful stare into the distance.
Before Wo'itsa could lunge forward to grab the elder by the arm, Mukua disappeared. Wo'itsa cursed. Who had deceived whom? Had Mukua brought him here so that he could abandon him again?
“We shall go to where you last saw your wife.”
Mukua had done exactly what he’d promised. He’d brought Wo'itsa back to where he’d last seen Kendra, but he’d deceive
d him by bringing him back to a different time. The sincerity the elder had displayed had all been an act.
Wo'itsa kicked at the ground. He clutched his bow in his hand and raised it skyward. Looking up, he squinted into the bright sunlight and let out a roar of frustration. Why had he given the vessel he’d found to Naatoyita? Why hadn’t he waited a while longer before handing it over? He’d relinquished it to the elder not minutes before he’d seen Mukua.
With the elder’s deceit, what else had Mukua lied about? He hadn’t thrown a stick at Kendra. Wo'itsa’s eyes hadn’t deceived him. It had been a knife. Would he ever know if she was alive or dead?
Wo'itsa dropped to his knees, his hands and head still raised to the sky. He stared skyward until only dark spots appeared before his eyes from the brightness of the sun. Wo'itsa blinked and lowered his head. He braced the palms of his hands against his thighs and inhaled deeply.
Never again would he be fooled by Mukua. The elder knew it. That was why he had time traveled again so quickly. The only thing that wasn’t clear, however, was Mukua’s surprise at seeing Cameahwait’s home in ruins. By the look on the old man’s face, it he hadn’t been what he’d expected.
Wo'itsa didn’t move until the sun gave way to the darkness and stars twinkled overhead, and long into the night. He stared into the darkness. Questions to which he would not receive any answers crowded his mind.
Where in time was he? What had happened to Cameahwait and his family? Most importantly, was Kendra alive or had she died at Mukua’s hand? Anger consumed him, and with it, the helpless feeling that there was nothing he could do. His wife was lost to him because he had no vessel to take him to her.
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