by Elisa Paige
Shaking off the last of the mental and emotional cobwebs, I caught another whiff of myself. Curling my own lip, I turned my face into the clean breeze and headed back to the cabin with a purpose.
I’d start with a shower and a change of clothes. Then I’d build a fire in the fireplace and make a decent meal. With my newfound determination, I’d even get a decent night’s sleep.
Because tomorrow, I was going to the reservation.
I parked the dirt bike next to the tribal office building, a low wooden structure that had seen better days.
I’d ridden over here expecting a fight…and halfway hoping for one. Anger simmered inside me, waiting to blow.
A cold breeze teased my hair and I hunched a little deeper into the thick red sweater and jeans I had on. Having found a box of Zih…geez. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of not thinking a dead person’s name. Having found a box of her clothes at the cabin, I no longer had issues with staying decently dressed. It was kinda nice having one less thing to worry about. Not for the first time, I wondered what—ah…crap! His fiancée had been like.
Rusty hinges screeched, drawing me back to the here and now. Waneta came out, the wooden porch creaking as he made his way down the stairs.
“You are well?” the old man asked, lowering himself carefully to sit on the top step.
Startled by his courteous tone, I shrugged. Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what to say. Especially since this hadn’t started off the way I’d expected. It was hard launching into the argument I wanted without the aggression I’d anticipated. That I’d counted on.
Waneta’s rheumy gaze met mine. “I do not wish to violate your mourning period, but would speak with you if you permit it.”
I blinked. “Mourning?”
“Once I let myself look, I could see that your heart was his. Losing such love is a hard thing.”
I flinched. “You think Koda is dead?”
It was Waneta’s turn to flinch at my naming someone he clearly assumed was no longer among the living. “You do not?”
My voice was curt. “No.”
Out of nowhere, a hawk flew over my shoulder to land on the dirt bike’s handlebars. When I glanced at it, the huge bird made a chuckling sound and fluffed its feathers. Nonplussed, I looked up at the sky, wondering if something else was going to swoop down.
Waneta studied me, a soft smile creasing his lined cheeks. “I have lived a long life and seen much, but I never imagined so many changes could come to pass so quickly.” He fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. “So many changes. One day, the very government that drove all of us to ruin seeks our guidance. Then the United Nations invites me to speak in open session. A fellow from National Geographic wants an interview on supernatural cultures. Four of our elders have been asked to address the burgeoning ranks of Wiccans rallying in Seattle’s City Center in three weeks’ time.” Bemused, he shook his head.
Uncertain, I watched him as he laughed like a much younger man.
“So many changes,” he said again.
Three sparrows fluttered down from the roof to perch on the porch rail a foot from me. Chirping merrily, they kept a careful eye on the enormous raptor to my left. Under Waneta’s gaze, I made myself look bland, like this sort of thing happened all the time.
His weathered face creased in a brief smile as he held very still, watching the little birds. Then his expression sobered. “Not all change is good, however. Humans live in terror and lights burn in every house, in every building, all night long. No one walks alone anymore. Not in the cities, not in the country. Gun shops’ shelves are empty, the stores selling out of weapons and ammunition just as fast as new shipments come in.”
I looked at the old man. “That can’t surprise you.”
His gaze flicked to me as if surprised that I’d spoken. “‘Civilized’ people are still adjusting to the world as it is, not as they thought they had made it.”
My voice was wry. “I suspect being at the bottom of the food chain will do that to you.”
Waneta nodded. “The world’s greatest diplomats are trying to reach peaceable solutions, even as their governments deploy troops to areas with the highest supernatural concentrations. Martial law, rampant paranoia, unchecked violence, mob mentality. The world is poised for a war unlike any it’s ever known and my people are right in the middle of it.”
My heart thudded painfully. “Koda is in the middle of it too.”
“I tell you everything is falling apart and you think only of your lost man.” Waneta’s tone was weary, like he’d hoped for better from me.
Embarrassed and angry, I snapped, “His name is Koda. Why do you keep insisting that he’s de…not coming back?”
Waneta’s manner softened. “It is the way of the anzhenii. If your man still lives and has not returned, it means he has not yet chosen his path. He must decide whether to follow his brothers or to make his own way without them.”
“But I stopped him from joining the ghost-people. He did decide.”
The old man shook his head. “If you kept him back from our ancestors, then he did not decide. You did.”
Stunned, I stared at Waneta. “Did I make things worse?” My voice sounded like I was being strangled from the inside.
“No, daughter. It may be that you gave him the time he needed to make a better decision. If he still wanders this world, then he may yet come back to you.”
I swallowed hard, torn between the need to search for Koda—although I had no idea where to begin looking—and anxiety that he’d choose to follow his brother rather than continue as the last of his line. I could do nothing about either, so I focused instead on Waneta’s words. “I am called Sephti. Why did you address me as ‘daughter’?”
The old man actually blushed. “It is a term of affection toward a young woman. I meant no offense.”
“Affection?” I echoed the word wonderingly.
“You have done much for our people, despite our initial anger and mistrust.” A smile lit his eyes. “Why would we not feel favorably toward you in return?”
I thought about that, watching two more little birds join the others on the banister. The hawk clacked its beak together, making the sparrows flinch.
“Koda’s other brothers were killed by fae too, Just like Aha…” I stopped myself. “Weren’t they?”
Waneta nodded. “Would you walk with me? I wish to show you something.”
I joined the old man as he led the way down the narrow road to the open area where I’d first met him. I wasn’t really surprised when the hawk took wing. A second later, another raptor joined the first. The sparrows flitted from rooftop to rooftop pacing Waneta and me, the little birds keeping a wary eye fixed on the circling hunters. Out on the prairie, a wolf howled.
The chief stopped, tipping his head to indicate a small knot of people walking at a respectful distance behind a stoop-shouldered man, his long white braids trailing in the breeze. In each hand, he carried an eagle feather and his steps were measured, careful. When I realized he was performing some kind of a ritual, I averted my gaze. It felt wrong to watch. Like what he was doing was too sacred for casual observation.
Waneta’s eyes lit up as if I’d confirmed something for him. “You respect our ways.”
Bewildered that he’d care, I nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
“That is good.” He smiled to himself. “That is very good.”
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Was this some sort of test?”
He looked almost sheepish. “I think you have a great purpose to fulfill, daughter. I think you must serve as a conduit between humans and fae-based supernaturals.”
My head snapped up and I stared at him, surprised.
Everything Evie and James had persistently told me about the world’s unrest had percolated in the back of my mind. Some time during my fog on the sofa, it had occurred to me that no one on the mortal plane knew as much about fae creatures as I did. So I’d come to Tallgrass today to demand that Waneta introdu
ce me to the U.S. president’s representatives. I wanted to join the coming battle. Hell…I wanted to lead it.
Before I could tell Waneta this, he held up a quelling hand.
“I mention it only so you will think on it. Today is not for serious words between us. It is time to look forward. We have been given an opportunity to craft our people’s future. The prophecy has come true and tonight, we celebrate both it and our recent victory.” Waneta turned to face me. “Join us not as our guest, but as one of us. Let us welcome you properly.”
This really floored me. Not only were we not going to argue, not only did he want to give me what I’d come to demand—he just didn’t know it yet—but he was inviting me to join his people. “Um…”
“Please. Your man thought well of us. Why not get to know us better?”
That shook the cobwebs loose. Gritting my teeth, I glared at Waneta. “Koda thinks well. Stop talking about him like he’s dead.”
“Peace, daughter.” The old man bowed his head and his voice became rough. “I have known your Koda since I was a little boy. He watched over my parents and theirs, going back more generations than recorded history counts. I pray that you are right and that he will return.”
My eyes misted and I made a study of the hawks high overhead, idly noticing that a third had joined the first two. Changing the subject, I tried for a casual air. “I don’t have anything to wear to a celebration.”
Waneta chuckled. “Our senior women will take care of that.”
Standing in the flickering golden glow of several bonfires, I tugged self-consciously at the fringed shawl draped across my shoulders.
“I feel like a spectacle,” I muttered.
Hannah Red Bird, a tiny white-haired elder who couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, peered up at me. Her black eyes were sharp and bright with laughter. “We should call you Twitches a Lot.”
Sue Whirlwind grinned, playfully tugging at my braided hair. “Can’t Stand Still.”
“No, she is Fussy Old Woman,” another said, giggling.
I had to laugh at their good-natured teasing, which had begun the moment Waneta left me in Hannah’s eager care. The way she and her friends had descended upon me had been more frightening than any assortment of swordsmen I’d ever faced. But in no time, I was laughing along with them as they sized me up for the proper clothes and fussed and clucked over my flyaway hair. Sue had re-braided it four times since the silky strands kept escaping and refused to contain the white feathers she insisted I wear.
The entire experience had been a revelation to me. Not only for the women’s unstinting generosity and kindness, or how willingly they’d welcomed me into their midst. I’d also been surprised by how much the Sioux laughed, by the great joy these amazing people shared with one another. That they’d extended their warmth to me left me stunned and deeply touched.
Hannah gave me a toothy smile. “You look lovely.”
When I blushed, the others took turns gently teasing me and I had to laugh again at their playfulness.
Glancing down at myself, I traced a careful fingertip over the gorgeous beadwork decorating the dress I’d been loaned. The brilliant blues, reds and yellows against the cream-colored deerskin matched the heavily fringed shawl. When I moved, tiny bells jingled merrily on the leggings and moccasins I wore. Grinning and blushing again, I had to admit—spectacle or not—I felt beautiful.
It was a new sensation. A rather pleasant one.
The drums began pounding out a mesmerizing beat, calling to my feet to move. Brilliantly attired men, women and even little children in their festive regalia lined up in rows, standing tall as they danced into the open space between the bonfires. The procession was proud, ceremonious, and my heart lifted when the singers added their voices to the throbbing drums.
I stood with the women to the side, our feet keeping the beat even as we remained stationary. The first dance was the men’s—a dance of war and triumph, and their spectacular leaps high in the air were thrilling to watch. Two of them called to me to join them since I’d fought by their sides, and although I sensed how unusual their invitation was, I laughingly waved them off. The only dance I’d learned was the Fancy Shawl and I had no desire to humiliate myself.
When it was our turn, I shyly joined the women in the open center. Remembering Hannah’s instructions—that our dance represented butterflies and it was the lightness of our feet, the grace of our movements and our endurance and agility that we offered to the spectators—I grasped each end of my shawl and held it open like wings. Grinning as the watching elders nodded their approval, I stood straighter and began moving to the drum’s fast rhythm. Twirling, I matched the other women’s movements as the fringes of our “wings” flew, the bells on our leggings jingling in time with our steps. Sue called encouragement as she spun in a circle, and laughing I whirled to follow her.
Caught up as I was in the drums’ rhythm, the singers’ voices filling my head, my feet flying, it took me a moment to register the man standing off to one side, his eyes intent on me. The smile slowly left my lips and I stumbled to a stop, utterly oblivious to the women still swirling all around.
His cropped hair reached only to his collar and there were shadows in his eyes. But it was him. He was alive. And he was here.
“Koda?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes as my heart tried to explode from my chest.
He nodded, his grin overworking my laboring heart.
Hannah twirled past, calling something funny about my standing spellbound. It didn’t register with me, but set my new friends laughing.
Set Koda laughing. “Dance,” he mouthed.
The sight of his happiness got my feet moving again and I spun to re-join the others, moving with a joy and lightness of spirit that would’ve put any butterfly to shame.
When the drums at last fell silent, I ran to Koda and threw myself in his arms, kissing him soundly and not caring in the least about all the catcalls. “You’re okay,” I kept repeating, not yet daring to believe.
Koda laughed and kissed me back, his embrace strong and warm around me. “My wastelakapi. You waited for me.”
Tears flooded down my cheeks, drenching his white dress shirt where I pressed my face into his shoulder. “I’m going to soak you.”
He pressed me tight against him. “I don’t care.” His voice shook. “I would have scoured the world looking for you, Sephti. That you stayed…that you waited…”
“If I could not be with you, where would I go but the last place you’d been?” I whispered, fresh tears saturating his collar. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I am now.”
Needing badly to know, I asked in a raw voice, “Why did you leave?”
Shadows swirled in his eyes. “I had to, Sephti. There were rituals I had to perform, alone, as the last of my…my brothers.”
“Waneta said you needed to decide if you wanted to live.” I’d hated the old man for saying so and my repeating it now felt like I had a throat full of ground glass.
He gave me a tender smile. “With the hope of you to come back to? No. That was never in question. I am in love with you, Beloved. And I am so very sorry for having hurt you.” He bent his head to meet my gaze, letting me see the deep regret filling his beautiful eyes. “It was never my intent, but nothing was making sense to me then. I knew in my heart that my brother was gone, but I had to hold on. Had to keep hoping. Then, when we saw him…”
“Koda,” I whispered, the agony saturating his tone was tearing me apart.
“Anzhenii are bound by our duty to the ancestors. By defying them, by keeping me from them, you did for me what I could not do for myself.” Words spilled from Koda and his voice grew rough. “The sacred rites are difficult to discuss, but I should have told you before I left. I should have found a way to explain—”
“Shh, it’s okay now, Koda. Everything’s okay,” I interrupted in a fervent whisper, stretching on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love you, too. So very, very muc
h.”
Then the people surrounded us, laughing and joking, embracing a beaming Koda and me. We were passed person to person in a blur of good wishes and friendly teasing, until we found ourselves back together and Koda was holding me again.
The rest of the evening was a happy blur. Everyone kept pressing food on us and the feasting and dancing continued late into the night. Finally, well after midnight, when the bonfires were nothing but embers and the last exhausted reveler headed home, Koda and I stood alone. I’d changed out of the gorgeous regalia. The night air was cold and I shivered inside a jacket of Koda’s that I’d borrowed from his closet.
“I like seeing you in my things and dancing with my people. It makes me very happy,” he murmured. Cupping my cheek with his hand, he breathed a kiss across my forehead. “I have something I have to do. I’ll see you at the cabin, okay?” With a quick smile, he jogged off.
Startled, I stood and watched him go. This was definitely not what I’d had in mind for a blissful reunion. Not after the hell I’d gone through.
Stung and not a little angry, I rode the dirt bike back to the cabin, swearing all the way. By the time I let myself in and changed into a pair of warm sweats, I’d worked up to a proper hissy.
Which evaporated the moment Koda’s truck pulled up out front twenty minutes later.
Wrapping a blanket around myself—without a fire, the cabin was chilly—I went into the living room to meet him. Heart in my throat, I watched him walk through the front door. He’d seemed so happy to see me…he’d damn well said he was happy to see me. So why had he taken off like that? What was so freaking important that he had to take care of it the same night he came back?
Giving me a half smile, Koda shut the door behind him. He tossed his truck keys in his hand, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself and he didn’t quite meet my gaze.
“Koda?” I hated the tremor in my voice, but his uncharacteristic nervousness had fear rising like bile in the back of my throat. He’d just returned…was he planning on leaving again? Was that why he’d left me to drive home alone?
