by D C Young
***
Sam had booked an early morning flight from LAX to Bismarck, North Dakota.
The plan was to rent a car at the airport, hit County Route 1806 and head south towards Cannon Ball; a town on the North Eastern edge of the Standing Rock Reservation.
If the flight was on time, her rental car was ready and she didn’t make any unscheduled stops, she would make it to Prairie Knights casino and Resort; the only decent hotel along Route 1806.
After carefully scrutinizing a map of the area on Google, Sam surmised that the hotel was almost dead center between Sacred Stone and Fort Yates which was where the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe had a tribal affairs office. She chose to book a room there assuming she might have to meet with tribal elders who were staying away from the political heat at Sacred Stone Camp.
The night before she left, Sam enjoyed a quiet evening at home with Tammy, Anthony and Mary Lou. It was a welcome change getting to spend some quality time eating pizza in the living room and laughing at her sister as she tried to keep up with the kids playing Lets Dance; they were running rings around their poor aunt.
When midnight rolled around, the two women ushered the kids to bed and then returned to the living room floor, where they opened a bottle of viognier.
“So, what’s this new job about?”
“It’s kind of a new thing for me and honestly, I’m not sure how I should approach it.”
“What do you mean, Sam?” Mary Lou asked, sitting up a little straighter and setting her glass aside. “I can’t remember the last time you sounded unsure about an investigation right from the get go.”
“Well, it’s a ripped from the headline kind of thing.”
“An ongoing situation?”
“Yeah. I was literally watching the protesters on CNN when White Eagle rang my doorbell.”
“The Dakota Pipeline protests?”
“Yup.”
“So what does he want you to find out?”
“The tribal leaders want definitive information about Energy Transfer Partners particularly regarding their motives.”
“I just think they’re being spiteful. I mean they could just build it somewhere else.”
“I think just about all the Standing Rock Sioux feel that way too.”
***
From this day forward all war between the parties to this agreement shall for ever cease. The government of the United States desires peace, and its honor is hereby pledged to keep it. The Indians desire peace and they now pledge their honor to maintain it…
The United States agrees that the following district of country, to wit, viz: commencing on the east bank of the Missouri river where the 46th parallel of north latitude crosses the same, thence along low-water mark down said east bank to a point opposite where the northern line of the State of Nebraska strikes the river, thence west across said river, and along the northern line of Nebraska to the 104th degree of longitude west from Greenwich, thence north on said meridian to a point where the 46th parallel of north latitude intercepts the same, thence due east along said parallel to the place of beginning; and in addition thereto, all existing reservations of the east bank of said river, shall be and the same is, set apart for the absolute and undisturbed use and occupation of the Indians herein named…
—Treaty of Fort Laramie, 1868
“In the land of the Lakota Sioux, the dead are laid to rest on the west banks of the largest rivers.
“The Missouri is one such river.”
“Close to the waters, the dead find peace in the land of the setting sun and go willingly and happily into the spirit world to await their chance to guide us from beyond with wisdom and benevolence.
“They make their journey and take their peace knowing that their house has been put in order. Food and water have been provided for their travels, the horse has been sacrificed and its tail has been tied to their funeral scaffold to carry them on their long journey.
“Our dead have been laid to rest by our people for centuries and our rituals have always met the mark in satisfying the spirits. So when the ghosts of the dead, especially malicious demons and creatures are released from the boundaries of the spirit world, we can safely surmise that it is a deliberate enterprise that has caused it.
“In the heart of the Standing Rock Sioux lands, greed and corruption have moved the hand of man to destruction and a dangerous, malevolent spirit has been released because of it. The tombs have been broken and the prison confining this ancient evil is opened. These same malicious forces have fueled the power of this spirit, giving him the authority to break his binds and emerge from the spirit world.
“Hear me now, White Eagle of the Standing Rock Sioux! Wazeya has returned and the people of the Lakota lands will bleed for it.”
White Eagle jumped from his sleep, the tendrils of the vivid dream just loosening their holds on his mind. He lay unable to move, heart racing and eyes searching the room for something to explain what he had seen. The glow of the alarm clock on his dresser caught his eye. It was 3:15 a.m.
As the paralysis released its hold on his body, White Eagle’s mind was kicked into full gear. He got out of bed and went straight to his desk. The vision of Black Elk was still emblazoned in his mind as he sat down.
He had been sitting in a tent across a fire pit from the old man listening to him speak. The chieftain had been draped in his usual buffalo hide blanket; its horned hood sitting regally on the old man’s head. As he spoke to White Eagle, the old man had thrown a white feather onto the fire and they both watched as it evaporated into a cloud of silver smoke. The warning of the wendigo had been ominous.
Pulling some blank sheets of paper from the printer, he took up a pencil and started writing down everything he remembered from the dream.
Wazeya…
He shuddered at the thought of the name.
When he lay the pencil down, his hand went out to the computer monitor and hit the on button. The machine sprang to life with a blinding light. He winced and blinked to adjust his eyes. White Eagle clicked on the browser icon and then paused to think for a moment. When he’d gathered his thoughts, he began typing into the search bar.
‘RECENT DEATHS IN NORTH DAKOTA’
The results page erupted with articles, statistics and newsreel. He opened another tab and did the same for South Dakota. An even more extensive list appeared. If what Black Elk had warned was true, that would make sense; the majority of the reservation land in the area fell inside the state boundaries of South Dakota.
White Eagle sighed. He clicked on the first article about South Dakota and read the headline: ‘FAMILY OF FIVE MURDERED IN EAGLE BUTTE.’
“I’m going to need some coffee,” he said, as he got up and made his way to the kitchen.
Chapter Three
“Be still, Ishta! Listen to what I must tell you,” the voice said. “It is a skill you must master if you will ever truly unleash this unique and beautiful power that you possess.”
Tammy wasn’t sure how the voice and the vision had suddenly come upon her.
The dark voice and the ancient man frightened her and she tried to flee from the vision, but she was locked in place.
The power which held her was a strong one.
“I will do you know harm, Ishta. I must only speak to you of things which you do not understand,” the voice said. It was a deep voice with a tone and manner of speaking she had never heard before.
“Who are you? Who is Ishta?” Tammy responded. She was still unsure, but as she had matured in her gift, she was coming to realize that resisting it rarely turned out well.
“You are Ishta,” the old man responded. If the man was one hundred years old, he was a thousand, he was ancient. “I am Heȟáka Sápa, I am known as a man of spiritual gifts among my people, a wacassa wakan.”
“Wacassa wakan? Heh…” Tammy struggled with the pronunciation of the name.
“In your tongue, I am called Black Elk,” the voice responded.
“What do yo
u want from me?” Tammy asked. Though she was less afraid, she was still confused.
“I want to tell you of things you do not know.”
“What do I need to know?” she asked.
Without any further discussion, the old man, Black Elk began speaking in a grave tone.
“The old ones say that it was a time of much distress. Our old ones were dying because they had nothing to eat and no robes to keep them warm. Our young ones cried because their bellies had no meat in them. Our warriors were weak and afraid to go out of the camp to search for the great herds.
“It had been many days since we had eaten the last of the meat that we had stored up before Wazeya began to drive us away from the herds and kill any who would challenge him. He killed them simply by pointing a finger at them.
“They say that the Wakinyan walked into the camp and was very tired and hungry. When he came into the lodge of the leader of our people, he asked for meat and a buffalo robe to sleep on. Only an old, tattered robe could be found for him, but there was no meat.
“When he asked why a people who were so strong and proud had only tattered robes and no meat to share with their guest, the leaders of our people were ashamed and they began to tell him about their distress. ‘We fear Wazeya,’ they told him. ‘He has driven away all of the buffalo herds so that we have no meat and no hides with which to make our warm, thick robes. Whenever one of us contends with him concerning this injustice, he points a finger at the one who speaks and that one immediately drops dead!’
“Filled with rage, the Wakinyan took up his bow and spoke to them. ‘Let’s go hunt buffalo, now and see if this arrogant warrior dares to step forward and challenge the Chosen Warrior of the Ancient One!’
“‘We cannot go with you!’ they cried. ‘Our people will certainly be destroyed!’
“But the Wakinyan made them go with him nonetheless. They started out onto the open plain where they encountered Wazeya watching over a herd of thousands of buffalo.
“The moment that he saw him, Wazeya recognized Wakinyan and began to mock him. ‘Ah ha! It appears that the Great Warrior has wandered onto the northern plain.’
“He laughed at the Wakinyan and said, ‘Let’s just see if you are indeed more worthy than I to take that of which I am deserving from me. Prove yourself a warrior, or at least a man.’
“The Wakinyan rose up to his challenge and the two rushed upon one another with great fury. In the first charge, the Wakinyan broke the bow of Wazeya; but when they charged the second time, the Wakinyan was thrown upon his back so violently that he lay as one who was dead until he was able to recover his breath.
“Wazeya began to taunt him as he lay there. Everyone who had seen the Great Warrior fall believed that he was dead. ‘It appears that the Ancient One was in error. The Chosen Warrior is no more.’
“Before Wazeya could leave the plain, however, the Wakinyan had recovered himself, pulled himself up from the ground and cried out in a defiant roar toward the retreating Wazeya. ‘Not so fast, Wazeya, our battle is not yet finished!’
“The third bout began and stretched on for seven days with neither of them gaining an advantage over the other. Weeks slipped into months as the two collided in a violent bout of strength until, exhausted, they sat down on a drift of snow to rest.
“The old ones said that while the two fought, they killed many buffalo and supplied their lodges with meat and robes for the rest of the coming year. The meat was dried and the hides were cured and the people had begun to lay about in the grass with full bellies.
“It was then that a gentle spring breeze from the west blew in upon the two of them while they rested. The wind was warm and caused the grass to turn green and the flowers to produce the buds that would later become summer blossoms. ‘Be gone from here!’ Wazeya had shouted to wind. ‘This is none of your affair!’
“The warm wind sang out in his gentle voice. ‘But it is my affair. The Ancient One has declared that it is my season.’
“Wazeya bellowed with a fury greater than a hundred buffalo. ‘I’ll wring your scrawny little neck if you continue to interrupt us!’
“At that very moment, the south wind arrived and stood with his hands on his hips as he glared at Wazeya. ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, Wazeya! Besides, you’ve had months to best the Wakinyan and you’re still unable to do it. Be gone with you or I’ll join in with him and give you the thrashing that your arrogance deserves!’
“Ready to take on the trio in his pride, Wazeya had risen from the ground and stood before them defiantly. The brawl would have surely ensued, had it not been for the timely arrival of the Ancient One upon the plain. ‘That will be the end of this!’ he commanded.
“It was from that point forward, that each of the four winds was given its season and, though it needn’t be said, the winds all held one another in great contempt. It was also at that point, the old ones say, that the Ancient One gave the Kaga dominion over all of the buffalo of the plain.”
The old man finished speaking, the gaze of his black eyes penetrated to her soul as though he was reading everything that was inside of her. Tammy squirmed in discomfort, hoping that the strange encounter would soon come to an end.
“These are the things you did not know, but must know,” Black Elk said before disappearing from her vision.
Tammy looked around her, glad to be back in the more comfortable, physical reality that was her bedroom.
What was that about? she wondered.
The clock by her bed told her it was 5 a.m. The house was silent but she made herself focus and listen more carefully. She cleared her mind and concentrated on hearing the sounds in the house around her.
There!
Quietly, she got out of bed and went out to the living room. Her mother was placing a laptop bag over her shoulder and reaching for her carry on case.
“Mom?”
“Hey, Tammy. You’re up early. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just a weird dream.”
“Okay, go back to bed honey. I’ll call you guys when I get to Bismarck.”
“You’re getting an early start.”
“Yeah, Julia called me last night and asked that I make a quick stop to see before I went to the airport.”
“Might be a good idea. Be careful in Standing Rock, Mom. I get the feeling there’s more going on there than what’s on TV.”
“What do you mean, hun?” Sam asked concerned. “Have you seen something?”
“I had a vision I think, but it’s just an old Indian man telling me stories. I’m not sure what it means yet.” Sam was perplexed. They were both still trying to get a full understanding of Tammy’s true powers. “I think it has something to do with the feather I found outside yesterday.”
“Feather?”
“Yeah… a white eagle’s feather. It had a clear, silver aura and sorta called out to me.”
“White Eagle is the name of my new client,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I found that weird too,” Tammy said. She threw her arms around her mother.
“Just be careful, okay?”
“I will, hun. Don’t worry about me.”
Sam picked up her bag and slipped through the front door, allowing Tammy to lock it behind her. As she closed the driver’s door of her SUV, she couldn’t help but consider her daughter’s words. If there was something sinister at play at the Standing Rock Reservation, everyone on both sides of the protest could be in greater danger than they anticipated. It was a good thing she had also anticipated there’d be more to the case than had met the eye.
Chapter Four
“Welcome, Samantha,” Julia said opening the door for her.
Sam’s finger was still poised above the doorbell.
She smiled, lowered her hand and stepped across the threshold.
“Please excuse the mess. We were packing up when I called you last night but I had already decided to stay behind with the last of the boxes so I was happy you could accommodate stopping by to see me
.”
“Where are you going? Are you and the Council leaving L.A.?”
“If I were to cut a long story short, then the answer would just be a plain yes. We’re heading to our Montana compound for a while.”
“Laying low, Julia? Is there anything you want to tell your ex-federal agent friend?”
“Our sources tell us that a spiritual disturbance has occurred in the East that could make the occurrence with Set look like a Halloween parade.”
“Hmmm. I remember Veronica’s run in with the cambion quite vividly.” The vampire huntress had followed the creature’s trail from New York to New Orleans before finally taking him down. “Who brought you this news, Julia? I’ve never seen you this shaken, so much so you’re leaving your home. I’m going to need some details.”
“One of our old allies, a vampire called Lone Horn. He came to us unexpectedly three days ago despite us not hearing from him in over half a century. He is Petronilla’s only progeny; she turned him so he could watch over his sons and nephew in a particularly tumultuous time for his people.”
“I can’t believe this,” Sam said, sinking into one of the few chairs bundled in the foyer ready to be transported to storage. “Are we talking about Lone Horn of the Lakota? As in Chief Lone Horn?”
“Yes. We met him at the signing of the Treaty at Fort Laramie in 1868. He was already well into his years by then. Petronilla and William Adelin were taken with him and his tribe. In fact, we left them among the Lakota for the rest of Lone Horn’s years and when he passed they turned him and brought him to us in Montana. It was their personal Dances with Wolves story.
“Lone Horn was concerned the treaties between the tribes and the government wouldn’t hold and that the tribes would be unable to keep a lasting peace among themselves which was a condition of the treaty. He was right on both counts. We spent all those years in the Midwest with Lone Horn. We were at the Battle of Little Bighorn and even followed his son, Touch the Cloud’s little band around for a while. The hardest thing was being at Wounded Knee. We witnessed the murder of his son, Spotted Elk and the other Lakota encamped there. After that Lone Horn lost his taste for the Dakotas and our company.
