by Sarah Dreher
Then the sounds began. Drums. Rattles. Bells. The rhythmic thud of dancing feet on hard-packed soil. Her heart beat in time to the drumming. Power pulsed through her in time to her heartbeat.
The masks began to move, motion no longer imagined but real. They rose into the air, trailing mists of color. Reaching higher, higher to the vast dome of the ceiling. The drumming grew louder and the masks circled, dipping and twirling in dance.
Stoner watched them open-mouthed, transfixed.
A beam of yellow light cut through the room.
She blinked.
The masks were gone, the stalagmites mere stalagmites, the bundle a dusty pile of rubbish.
''Well, well," Larch Begay said. He turned his light on the medicine bundle. "Led me right to it, didn't you?"
"Leave it alone, Begay."
He looked at her and laughed.
"You don't know what you're dealing with here."
''Wrong, little lady. You don't know what you're dealing with."
She moved and placed herself between the man and the bundle. "I mean it. I can't let you take it."
"Is that a fact?" He took a step toward her.
She held her ground. "It's a fact."
He came nearer. "I wonder what I'm going to do about that." He smiled.
Stoner watched his eyes. They were growing larger, flatter. The pupils dilated. The irises turned a pewter gray.
His hand shot out and clutched her shirt front. He dragged her to the side, slammed her against the cave wall. A bolt of pain shot through her as her shoulder and head struck rock. He held her there, one hand at her throat, and turned the flashlight on her face.
Blinded, she tried to twist away.
He pulled her forward and slammed her against the wall again.
"This is gonna give me a whole lot of pleasure," he hissed. His breath was rancid with stale bourbon. His eyes met hers and held.
She could feel herself grow weaker, her energy draining away like water. She tried to struggle, but could barely move her arms. Terrified, she kicked out. Her legs refused to move.
Break his hold on your eyes, she told herself. But she was paralyzed. Begay was feeding from her spirit, sucking her dry like a vampire.
She felt like sand blowing away in the wind.
Travel, something told her.
But she couldn't let go, was afraid to let go. If she stopped struggling, if she let her consciousness turn inward, those hands would press the last breath from her.
GRANDDAUGHTER!
Siyamtiwa’s command grabbed her mind.
The pain in her shoulder and head faded. Begay's hand left her throat. She breathed air, fresh air. She gulped it hungrily, and felt energy flow back into her body.
She looked around. She was lying in the canyon, in the circle at the Place of Emergence. Warm sun caressed her arms and face. The waterfall sang. The river tossed round rocks together and made them talk. A hawk soared overhead.
She lay in sunlight until her body was warm, until her blood flowed smoothly once more. Until her heart pumped strong and sure.
Too strong.
Strong and loud as drumbeats.
It frightened her. She tried to calm it.
The beats grew stronger, faster. They pounded in her head and battered her rib cage. My heart's going to burst, she thought. He's caught my heartbeat and he's going to make it burst.
Help me. Grandmother!
There was no answer.
Only the hawk, circling overhead.
Suddenly it folded its wings and plunged earthward toward her. Faster than an arrow, it came at her.
She cringed. No time to step away.
The bird spread its claws. Its talons glistened like razors.
Her heart beat faster.
Inches from the ground the hawk broke its dive and soared upward. A rattlesnake twisted in its claws. Higher and higher it circled. Its claws opened. The rattlesnake fell. The body smashed on a boulder.
She looked at the ground, where claw and wing-marks left a pattern in the dust.
Inches from her leg. She hadn't seen the snake. It would have killed her.
Now she knew what she had to do.
Attack, as the hawk had attacked. She closed her eyes and thought herself back to the cavern room.
A jolt of electricity shot through her as she slammed back into her body.
Begay laughed and tightened his grip on her throat.
Attack.
She focused her energy on his brain. Thought fire into it. Thought burrowing worms into it. Sent thought-explosions and knives and razors and hands that gripped his mind and squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed...
He let her go and stood back, a look of bewilderment crossing his face.
She fell to the ground. Her breath came in gasps, her lungs and throat on fire, her chest aching. She rested on her hands and knees and panted, head hanging, like a dog.
She looked up. He was coming for her again.
And something was coming for him.
It stood behind him, a giant, covered with the skins of animals, its head black and bloody. One hand carried a burning torch. The other reached out to touch Begay.
"Behind you," Stoner warned.
Larch Begay opened his mouth to laugh.
The creature touched him. His shirt and hair burst into flames.
He screamed and tried to run from the room.
The Kachina blocked his way.
Begay's eyes bulged with terror.
From high above the medicine bundle, the masks drifted toward him.
The flashlight fell from his hand. She crawled forward and snatched it up.
He pressed against the wall, beating at the flames with his bare hands.
The masks silently drew nearer.
He fell to his knees and began to crawl toward the entrance.
The masks encircled him.
His whole body seemed to be burning. She could smell the charred clothing, the searing flesh.
He looked at her. "Make them stop!" he pleaded. "For God's sake..."
His words were cut off as a trickle of blood bubbled from his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. His eyes began to turn milky.
The masks closed in tighter.
A stream of dark liquid oozed from his ear.
He screamed again.
She knew something had burst inside his brain.
"He's dying," she said softly. "Please let him go."
The masks drew back.
Begay flung himself to his feet and plunged into the tunnel. She ran after him. He was a silhouette in flames, stumbling, crashing from wall to wall, faltering then going on, propelled by fear and pain.
His speed and endurance were amazing.
Stoner raced after him. Idiot. You let him go. He has a gun, and you let him go!
He burst out of the tunnel and into the firelight. at the cave entrance. Jimmy Goodnight stood there, holding the gun.
"Shoot!" Begay ordered, his words spattered with blood.
The boy hesitated. His hand trembled.
"Fucker!" Begay screeched. "Kill her!"
Jimmy's hand came up. Firelight flickered on the gun barrel.
She looked around for somewhere to hide. There was only the tunnel, and she'd never make it...
Jimmy Goodnight took a deep breath and aimed.
Stoner froze.
"Hey!" Gwen barked beside her.
The boy looked at her, bewildered. "How'd you ... ?"
"Get back!" Stoner whispered frantically
"Come on," Gwen challenged the boy. "Take your best shot, you little creep."
"Shoot, Goddamn it!" Begay shouted. He started toward him.
Jimmy Goodnight fired. Flame spurted from the gun's muzzle. She heard a high-pitched whine as the bullet shot past her ear and ricocheted from the cave wall.
"GWEN!" She looked around. Gwen was gone.
She saw the look of horror on Jimmy's face. His eyes were riveted to a poin
t above Stoner's head. The color drained from his face. He dropped the gun.
Stoner dove for it.
The boy turned and ran, down the path and into the night.
She aimed the gun at Begay.
He stood paralyzed, his clothes still burning, his eyes bulging with terror, staring at something beyond her shoulder.
She felt movement behind her.
Begay stumbled backward.
The campfire roared in a fountain of sparks.
Begay whirled and hurled himself off the edge of the mesa.
Something followed him. Something large and black and human-shaped. Something covered with raw skin and a blood-drenched mask. It hovered for a moment over the fire.
The fire rose and fell.
Rose and fell
Rose and fell.
The thing from the cave was gone.
She heard a soft thud as Begay's body hit the ground far below.
Clutching a burning stick for light, she went back into the room where she had left Gwen.
Jimmy Goodnight had tied her again.
"I'd always heard astral projection was fun," Gwen said as Stoner sorted out her ropes. "They never told me it was practical.”
They held each other for a long time.
FOURTEEN
The rising dawn chased night over the western horizon.
Stoner kissed the top of Gwen's head and got up. There were still things to do.
"Did you see it?" Gwen asked.
"See what?"
"That... thing, whatever it was."
Stoner nodded. "I don't think we should talk about it with anyone. Maybe not even ourselves."
"But what was it?"
"Only Masau," Stoner said. "It won't come back"
She went to the cave entrance and whistled. The burro brayed an answer.
She turned back to Gwen. "How do you feel?"
"I've been better. Stoner, I don't think I can walk"
She knelt and felt Gwen's legs and ankles. "Nothing's broken. It's probably lack of circulation. It's going to hurt like anything when you get it back"
"Thank you very much," Gwen said with a grimace.
Stoner could hear the burro grunting—hunh, hunh, hunh—as it trudged up the path to the cave. "Here's your transportation." She pulled Gwen's arm across her shoulders and lifted her to her feet.
Gwen gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes.
"See?" Stoner said. "You're recovering already. The human body is a marvelous thing."
"I can't stand it. Let me die."
"Never." She kissed Gwen again.
The Little Horse of the Canyons waited patiently. She helped Gwen climb aboard, then reached up and took Gwen's necklace from around her own neck "Here," she said as she fastened it on Gwen. "Next time I give you something, try not to lose it."
Gwen managed a pained smile. "Can we go now? I'm not real crazy about this spot."
"In a minute." She turned the donkey toward the path and gave him a push. ''Wait for me down below, and don't worry when you hear me shoot. I have to seal off that chamber."
''What chamber?"
"I'll explain later." She laughed."I have a lot to explain later. You probably won't believe most of it."
Finding the bundle was easier this time. She let the room pull her forward, through the tunnels, deep into the earth. She was surprised at how far she'd come before, how far Begay had run with his clothes on fire and his life bleeding away. She felt now as if she were walking forever between walls of rock.
At last she was there.
The Ya Ya medicine bundle lay bathed in gray light. Around the chamber's walls, the masks kept watch. The circle of corn meal was undisturbed.
She stood in front of it for a while and felt its energy.
''Well,'' she said at last, "I don't know exactly what went on here but I guess it turned out okay."
The energy knot in her stomach glowed briefly and went out. She took the medicine bag from around her neck and placed it on the ground. "Just to be on the safe side," she said with a smile, "a little Pahana magic." She looked around at the Kachinas. "Thanks for your help. Too bad you weren't around for the '84 elections."
Begay's flashlight still lay on the ground. She picked it up and shook it. The beam sprang to life. She left the room without looking back
Outside in the tunnel, she searched the ceiling until she found what she was looking for, a vulnerable point, the rocks tumbled together, already leaking sand. She backed away as far as she could.
Very carefully, she took aim and fired.
The explosion deafened her for a second. Then she heard it, the hissing whisper of falling sand, the low rumble of rock beginning to move.
She tossed the gun into the path of the rock slide, and ran.
Through the tunnels and passages for the last time, pursued by a cloud of dust and falling rock It felt as if the whole mesa were caving in behind her.
She ran, and ran, and ran.
Daylight at last.
She hit the outside path and slid, barely standing, down the side of the mesa to where Gwen and the burro waited.
* * *
They watched from the desert floor as billows of sand poured out the cave entrance. The crash and thunder of collapsing tunnels echoed up and down Hisatsinom Canyon, bouncing from wall to wall, rolling off at last into the sky and desert.
As the sounds died, the first rays of the sun appeared in the eastern sky. The shapes of mountains revealed themselves, then buttes and mesas, sage and mesquite. And, finally, the shape of Larch Begay, lifeless and twisted as a cotton doll lying among the rocks.
Curious, Stoner went to look at him.
He had died open-eyed, his lips stretched in a scream. Already the insects were at work on him. But it was his skin... his skin was papery and wrinkled and brown, like leather, like the skin on a mummy.
Larch Begay had died very, very old.
As old as Siyamtiwa.
In that moment she knew that Larch Begay had been a pawn, as she herself had been a pawn, and Siyamtiwa, and everyone whose lives this thing had touched. They had all acted out their roles in a mystery play that had been written a long, long time ago. Before anybody's memory.
It had been Begay's part to tip the balance, and now the balance was restored.
White and Navajo and Hopi, the cultures intersected.
Male and female.
Black magic and white magic.
She knew all this, then, and one more thing...
...That she would never see Siyamtiwa again.
She looked up to where Gwen waited, and the Little Horse of the Canyons. Ready to take them home.
* * *
Kwahu the Eagle sat beside the old woman and looked down at her sleeping face. She was smiling. In the faint dawn light, her burial shawl glowed white as a summer cloud. Her iron and silver hair was freshly washed and perfectly arranged. She was ready.
Her chest rose and fell, gently, softly, slowly. Then more slowly. Then not at all.
Masau, tall and proud and handsome, stood high on the rooftop and waved an arm in welcome.
Kwahu the Eagle waited for the Gold Dawn. Carefully, she removed four of her flight feathers and offered them to the four Sacred Directions.
Kwahu the Eagle sang her song:
Old woman, my friend,
In the days of fire, you were here.
When the thunder of giants shook Mother Earth,
You were here.
Through the nights of water,
Through the years of ice,
When the People came from below to start their wanderings,
You were here.
When they came home to the mesas,
You were here.
Through the Spanish soldiers and the Missionaries,
Through the wars and the Long Walk,
When the giant mushrooms bloomed,
You were here.
Always you have been here.
/> Always you will be here.
With Beauty behind you,
With Beauty before you,
With Beauty above you,
With Beauty beneath you,
In Beauty you walk.
In Beauty it is finished.
She folded her wings, stepped into the crook of Siyamtiwa's arm, and closed her eyes.
* * *
The day was on the downhill side when they saw the smoke from the trading post chimney.
"Oh, Lord," Gwen said, "I hope that doesn't mean Ted's cooking rattlesnake for dinner."
"After three days of piki and tea," Stoner said, "even rattlesnake sounds good."
Gwen stopped the burro and slid to the ground. "After three days of Larch Begay's cooking, I want the best or nothing." She tested her knees and ankles. "I think I'll walk from here."
"Feeling better?"
"Not much, but we look too much like the Holy Family."
The donkey snorted loudly and wetly.
"Did I offend him?" Gwen asked.
"He's not into White theology." And he was leaving. She could feel it. She put her arm around his neck Thanks, Friend. It was... well, you know.
Burro nuzzled her shoulder.
''We could bring him with us," Gwen suggested. "I'm sure Stell's cousin would care for him." She gestured toward the desert. "It's a hard life out there."
Stoner shook her head. "He wouldn't be happy. He's chosen the Short Blue Corn Way."
Gwen rubbed the animal's nose. ''Well, if you change your mind..."
The burro turned and trotted back to his canyons.
The Chevy LUV was parked by the back door. And the Jeep and Laura Yazzie's beat up Toyota. "Looks as if we're expected," Stoner said. "1 wonder if Stell's home from the hospital?"
''Wouldn't surprise me," Gwen said as she tested her ankles. "She has a stubborn streak, not unlike other people I know."
Stoner grinned. "How are you doing?"
Gwen walked around a little. "I'll live. If this is what it feels like to return from the dead, I surely do hope there's no Resurrection."
Now that the terror was over, now that Gwen was here, and safe, she found herself reluctant to go back to everyday life with its stresses and strains and Grandmother problems. She wished now she had told Mrs. Burton that Gwen was missing. Then we'd see where she stood on the subject of love.
