Race to the Sun

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  “Is she nice?” I ask tentatively. With a name like Spider Woman, it is highly possible that nice is not one of her qualities. I should have asked Mr. Yazzie earlier, but I was distracted by too many other things. Now, as we’re approaching Spider Rock, it seems very important.

  “Well,” Łizhin says, sounding thoughtful, “there are stories.…See those white streaks near the top of the rock? Some say those are the bones of the children she has eaten.”

  “What?!” Mr. Yazzie never said anything about Spider Woman eating kids.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s only the naughty ones.”

  “Pretty sure eating children of any kind is frowned upon! Somebody could have mentioned it, you know?”

  “You’ll be fine,” the herald says.

  She circles the rock as we come in for a landing. We’re close enough now that I can see figures on top—two massive birds, one blue and one yellow, and two humans. Mac and Davery!

  After what Łizhin said about an accident, I was worried that one of them was hurt, or worse. But they look okay to me. Mac has his hair hanging down in his face and his hands stuffed in his pockets, as usual. Davery waves calmly as Łizhin settles next to Dólii and Tsídii.

  Once we’ve landed, I jump from Łizhin’s back and rush over to Davery and Mac. Unthinking, I go to give Davery a hug, but he looks startled and holds out a fist instead. “Oh,” I say, embarrassed. “Sorry.” We fist-bump, ending with our three-part secret handshake. I mean, it’s not like we can’t hug each other. We’ve hugged before. But it’s already getting a little awkward being boy/girl best friends, and hugging reminds us of that, so fist-bump secret handshake it is.

  I punch Mac in the shoulder, which is pretty much the same thing as a hug. Besides, it’s payback for that earlier punch-not-pinch he gave me. I hope he knows it’s because I’m happy to see him, but he sort of stumbles away from me, head down with his face still hidden behind his black hair.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I can’t imagine why Mac’s being a party pooper. But little brothers are moody, especially artsy-fartsy ones, so I don’t worry about it too much.

  “You want to see the black jet I got for Spider Woman?” I take off my backpack and reach into the pocket. I carefully pull out the tissue containing the perfect white shell and Black Jet Girl’s earring and open it on the ground. “Let me see what you got!”

  Davery comes over and removes a folded leaf from his back. He unwraps it to reveal an abalone shell, perfectly shaped and as bright and glimmering as a pearl.

  “It’s beautiful!” I whisper, running a finger over the edge.

  “It came from the shoulder of the guardian, Abalone Shell Boy. He said it was important to give Na’ashjéii Asdzáá the best.”

  “Black Jet Girl said the same thing,” I say.

  “Mac?” I look up at my brother. “Let’s see your turquoise.”

  He flicks his hair back and crosses his arms. “This quest is a waste of time,” he mutters. “Like rocks and shells are going to get us anything good. We need swords or guns or something to fight the monsters. Not a bunch of junk.”

  I frown, surprised by Mac’s words. “We’re taking these as gifts to Spider Woman in exchange for a map, not using them against Mr. Charles and his monster crew directly.”

  “It’s still stupid,” he grumbles, kicking at some loose rocks. The three heralds flutter nervously.

  “I think you should tell them, Mac, child Born for Water.”

  It’s Mr. Yazzie. In my excitement, I’d forgotten about him. He emerges from the neck of Mac’s hoodie and looks up at him, his face sympathetic.

  I plant my hands on my hips. “What’s going on? Mac, you better stop moping and start talking. Łizhin said there was an accident. Is that why you’re upset? Did you have a…bathroom accident? Like that time at sleepaway camp? Dad said it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  My brother rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of his head and bounce off the top of Spider Rock.

  “If I may,” Mr. Yazzie says, clearing his throat. He climbs down Mac’s torso and leg and makes his way over to where Davery and I laid out the gifts. “I’m afraid young Mac failed to secure the turquoise from Tsoodził, and he feels just terrible about it.”

  “Oh no!” I whisper. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened!” Mac stomps his foot, and eight hundred feet below us, the river that cuts through Canyon de Chelly suddenly rushes faster, whitecaps rippling across the previously calm surface.

  “Watch your anger, Mac,” Mr. Yazzie says. “The water responds to it.”

  Mac looks both abashed and pleased. And then a little scared. Ancestral powers are definitely cool, but it’s not ideal when you cause a minor flood by throwing a temper tantrum.

  We move back from the edge, and Mac flops himself down next to Davery, who has been sitting and watching calmly this whole time. Mac picks up the black jet earring, turning it over in his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

  “What happened?”

  “I tried, Z,” he says finally, sounding like he feels crummy. “But at first we couldn’t find the guardian of the mountain, and then, by the time we did, a storm was coming in. We got the turquoise and I was holding it in my hand, but it was raining and Dólii’s feathers were slippery. When he made a sharp turn, I lost my balance and Mr. Yazzie fell out of my hoodie. I couldn’t grab him and hold on at the same time with only one hand. I had to catch Mr. Yazzie or save the turquoise. I chose Mr. Yazzie.”

  “And many blessings that you did, Mac,” Mr. Yazzie says. “I am a very resilient horned toad, but even I have limits. One of them is not being able to survive a fall like that.”

  “It was my fault,” Dólii says, sticking his large head in between us. “I should have warned Mac I was turning.”

  “No, no, it was my fault,” Mr. Yazzie says. “If I hadn’t lost my grip…”

  “It sounds like it was no one’s fault,” Łizhin says, joining us. “Accidents happen.”

  “But what do we do now?” Mac wails. “We still need the turquoise if we want Spider Woman to give us the map! Dad should never have made us do this alone!”

  Davery frowns and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something about Dad’s kidnapping, but I shake my head and mouth, He doesn’t know.

  You have to tell him.

  Not yet.

  But—

  I gesture to my miserable little brother. Now’s not the time to lay something as scary as that on him. Davery looks at Mac, too, and his face softens. You’re right, he mouths.

  “Hey, Mac, I have some turquoise,” I say, clutching my pendant, the one I wear all the time. The gift from my mom, who I now know was a monsterslayer. Or at least had monsterslayer heritage that she passed down to me. But she’s gone, so it’s up to me to fight the monsters and save our dad.

  “Are you sure?” Davery asks me. “I know how much that necklace means to you. Maybe we can go back to Tsoodził tomorrow and try again.”

  “We don’t have time for that,” I say. “Besides, according to Black Jet Girl, I shouldn’t be afraid to make a sacrifice. She said the things that mean the most to us have the most power. My necklace must be super powerful, because it means everything.”

  The heralds all make chirping sounds of approval. I hug Mac, who smiles weakly with relief (or is it guilt?). Davery gives me another fist bump.

  “Okay, so we’ve got the gifts from all four sacred mountains,” I say to Łizhin. “What’s next?”

  Łizhin says, “Our work as heralds is done. We must return to our mountains in case our guardians need us. Na’ashjéii Asdzáá’s house is just across the canyon. We will take you there, but then you must continue your journey without us.”

  I stand up and give Łizhin a hug around her neck. “I think I already miss you.”

  “And I you, little hero. Now, hop on my back for one last ride. The sun is getting higher and you are running out of time.”

&
nbsp; The heralds take us across the gap to the rim of the canyon beyond and there they say their good-byes. After they’re gone, we head up the road they said would take us to our destination.

  “There’s something you should know before we get there,” I say as we walk. “Łizhin told me the Spider Woman used to eat children.”

  “What?!” Mac says.

  “That would have been good information to know beforehand,” Davery observes.

  “That’s what I said!”

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Yazzie scoffs. “That’s a story from long ago. You’ll all be quite safe.” He cocks his head and eyeballs my brother. “But just in case, maybe Mac should stay close to me.”

  “Are you sure this is it?” Mac asks as we make our way up the dusty road. The lushness of Canyon de Chelly is behind us, and if we turn around, we can still see Spider Rock. But up here, on the lip of the canyon, there’s just a trailer home with an old pickup truck in front. I didn’t know what I expected Spider Woman’s house to look like. Maybe a massive web, or a dark cave where you can’t see your hand in front of your face, but there’s nothing like that around here.

  We reach the driveway and pause. A sign on top of an old tin mailbox reads THE NA’ASHJéII. RUG WEAVERS EXTRAORDINAIRE! in red and black letters.

  “This must be the place. Mr. Yazzie?” I ask, peeking down into the neckline of my hoodie, where our guide is sound asleep again.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t wake him,” Davery says. “He’s probably traumatized after what he went through with Mac.”

  “I’m traumatized, too!” Mac mutters. “You don’t see me napping.”

  “Don’t be rude. He’s old.” Then, eyeing the trailer door, I say, “Well, we didn’t collect all these gifts just to stand here and not find out whether this is her. Let’s go knock.” I pat the backpack pocket holding our three precious items, touch my mom’s necklace (which I’m wearing for as long as I can) for bravery, and march forward.

  I look at the area around the trailer. Besides the truck, there’s a small fenced-in yard with a massive satellite dish and a little toolshed. Thick green extension cords run from the shed to the trailer, and as we get closer, I can hear a television blasting from the home, the laugh track echoing. Seems normal enough. No piles of children’s bones out here. Of course, who knows what’s hiding in that toolshed.

  I square my shoulders, take a deep breath, and let it out, reminding myself that I’m a descendant of a Hero Twin. I can do this. I think?

  I climb the three front stairs and raise my fist. Knock three times, firm and heavy. I hold my breath and wait for the door to open, but nothing happens. Just more fake laughing.

  “Do you think maybe she can’t hear us over the TV?” I whisper to Davery.

  He shrugs. “I didn’t know spiders liked sitcoms.”

  I knock harder. “Hello?” I yell, just in case. “Is anyone home?”

  The television shuts off, leaving the yard suddenly quiet. Footsteps clomp across the floor inside as someone comes to the door. I wring my hands nervously.

  “Who’s there?” comes a woman’s voice. She doesn’t sound mean, but maybe a little irritated, like we just interrupted her favorite show.

  “Sorry to bother you,” I shout, cupping my mouth and leaning close to the door, “but we’re looking for…” I hadn’t thought this through. I can’t say Spider Woman—that would be too weird. Because what if this is the wrong house? Then we’d really have some explaining to do. But I can’t just stand here. I clear my throat and try again. “We’re looking…” And then inspiration hits. “To buy a rug!” Genius, if I do say so myself. If Mrs. Na’ashjéii is just a regular weaver, we won’t seem completely loony showing up at her door.

  The door creaks open slowly. I half expect spiders to scuttle out and crawl up my legs, but instead, a beautiful Navajo woman stands there. She’s wearing a black-and-red robe that trails all the way down to her feet, and her long black hair is tied back in a messy bun like one an artist might wear. Small gold-framed glasses perch at the tip of her nose, and she squints down at us. She holds a remote control in one hand, and she props the other on a hip. “You kids want to buy a rug?” she asks skeptically.

  “Yes!” I say enthusiastically. Maybe too enthusiastically, because her eyes narrow, and it looks like she might not let us in.

  “We would love to see what you have for sale,” Davery adds helpfully, and I sigh with relief. He always knows the right thing to say.

  “You would?” she asks, sounding surprised. “Well, come on in, then.” She pushes the door open wide enough to allow us in and walks back into the trailer. The three of us and the sleeping Mr. Yazzie, still tucked in my hoodie, follow her inside.

  “You kids want some pop or something?” she asks over her shoulder. “I got Dr. Thunder. That’s it. We’re not fancy in this house.”

  The trailer is small and cluttered. The walls are covered with rugs of all sizes and colors. A large weaving loom sits in the middle of the living room, surrounded by three smaller ones, and behind them, attached to the wall, is the biggest TV I’ve ever seen.

  “Nice!” Mac says. “That TV has got to be at least seventy inches!”

  “Seventy-five,” the woman says, smiling. “You like TV?”

  “I prefer YouTube.”

  “Too bad,” she says. “There’s some real good shows, especially the telenovelas. So you want some pop, or not?”

  Davery and I exchange a look, and Mac nods vigorously, but I’m thinking of the whole eating-children thing. What better way to trap kids for a cook-up than by offering them poisoned Dr. Thunder?

  As if she knows what I’m thinking, the woman turns around to fix me with a stare. “I’ve never known a kid to say no to pop, so what’s the problem?”

  “We’re watching our sugar,” Davery says quickly.

  “We are?” asks Mac, seriously disappointed.

  The woman eyes us suspiciously, but I give her a thumbs-up.

  “Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug.

  “You wove all these rugs yourself ?” I ask. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She gestures toward the looms. “These are the rugs I’m working on right now. There’s more in the shed, but you’d have to wait until my husband comes back to take a look at those. He has the only key. So maybe you can pick one you like now, and I’ll finish it for you.”

  “How long will that take?”

  The woman taps the remote control against her cheek as she calculates. “Year and a half ? Maybe two.”

  “Two years!” I yelp. “We can’t wait that long for the map!”

  “Map?” the woman asks. “I thought you said you were here for a rug.”

  “We are!” I say.

  “We’re not,” Davery admits at the same time.

  “I really want a soda pop,” Mac whines.

  “You all better tell me the truth,” she says. “I don’t like naughty kids.”

  I gulp.

  “Don’t eat us!” Mac says, lifting his hands in the air. “I’m innocent! It was Nizhoni’s idea.”

  Once again, Mac fails to play it cool. “Okay, we might have lied just a little bit,” I say. “We’re here to get a map of the Glittering World. But I couldn’t just come to your door and ask for Spider Woman!”

  “Why not? I’m not exactly in hiding. The mailbox says ‘spider’ on it.”

  “So you are Spider Woman?”

  “Depends who’s asking.”

  I introduce myself in the proper Navajo way, and Davery and Mac follow suit.

  “We have something for you.” I walk to her kitchen table and open my backpack. I pull out the carefully wrapped treasures inside and spread them in front of her. The white shell, the black jet, and the abalone shell.

  She looks at our gifts, mouth pursed. “I see,” she says thoughtfully, running a hand over them. She picks up each one in turn and studies it. “These are lovely.”

  I sigh with relief. We brought the
right stuff!

  “But it seems you’re missing something,” she adds.

  What? Oh! The turquoise.

  I lift the leather cord with the pendant from around my neck and hand it to her, trying hard not to feel any regret. “Will this do?”

  She examines it the longest, frowning now. It’s probably not perfect enough for her. It has become a little worn on one side over the years, from my constant touching. And it didn’t even come from the mountain.…

  “It’s not from Tsoodził,” I say, figuring I shouldn’t hide that fact. “It was my mother’s.”

  “Was she a monsterslayer?” she asks, eyes still on the blue-green stone.

  “Uh, I think so.…” Why would she ask?

  “I never forget a face, and you look just like her,” she says, her chin tilted as she studies me. “Yeah. She came this way once. Owes me.”

  She’s met my mother! Before I can recover from my shock to beg her to tell me more, Spider Woman pockets the pendant and asks, “Now what was that about Tsoodził?”

  “We couldn’t get the turquoise from there,” I explain. “There was an accident, and Mac had to choose between holding on to the stone or saving Mr. Yazzie’s life.” I reach into my neckline and lift the still-sleeping horned toad from his warm little bed. He paddles his feet and grunts like he’s having an excellent dream. I pet him gently across the back with one finger. I don’t know if horned toads like to be stroked, but it seems like a good idea, and he settles down and starts snoring. I put him back in my hoodie.

  “Now there’s an old face I haven’t seen in a while,” Spider Woman says, light dancing in her eyes. “How is the little cheii?”

  “He’s the one who told us to come here for the map of the Rainbow Road that will take us to the Sun. He said you would help us.”

  Spider Woman pulls a wooden toothpick from her sleeve and picks at her teeth, studying me. “Hmm. Map, you say?”

  I nod. “Something that shows us how to cross through the Glittering World.”

  “I see,” she says in a voice that makes it sound like she doesn’t see at all. “Come, sit, everyone.” She sets herself down on the far side of the kitchen table, and I slide into the empty seat across from her. Mac and Davery take the two remaining chairs.