Gray Magic

by Sarah Dreher

  Gwen put a hand on Stoner's shoulder. "I'm not going to worry about her. I'm going to get an apartment, and get on with my life, and find out what it's like to think for myself. If she wants to reconcile, I'll think it over. But I'm not going to cry for the past any more."

  Stoner looked at her. "Did you read my mind?"

  "It wasn't hard," Gwen said. ''When you grind your teeth, It can only mean one thing."

  The back door of the trading post opened. Someone came out and stood looking down the road.

  Stell. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked their way.

  "Stell!" Stoner called.

  Gwen gave her a little push. "Go on."

  She hesitated. "You need help..."

  "I'll be all right, Stoner. Go."

  She stumbled down the hill, sliding, setting off tiny avalanches as her feet dug into the ground. She reached the hard packed road surface and broke into a run.

  Stell caught her in her arms. "You damn fool," she said in a choked voice. "You'll make me old before my time."

  "Deal with it," Stoner said with a laugh, and hugged her tight.

  Stell wouldn't let her go. Her grip was like iron. Her body was steamy, and she breathed in hiccup-py gasps.

  Stoner realized Stell was crying. "It's all right, Stell. Everything's okay."

  "I love you, Little Bear," Stell mumbled, trying to get control. ''We've got to stop doing things like this to each other." She laughed and dug in her pocket for a tissue, holding Stoner around the shoulders with her other arm.

  "I know I gave you a hard time," Stoner said, "but is that any reason to try and choke me?"

  Stell loosened her grip a little. "Listen kid, I've got some bad news. Siyamtiwa's dead."

  She pressed her head against Stell's shoulder. "I thought so."

  Somewhere inside she had known, the moment she had sealed the cave, the moment it was over, it was over for Siyamtiwa, too.

  "I'm real sorry," Stell said.

  Stoner shook her head, not knowing how to explain. "She was tired. She says she'll be back, one way or another."

  Stell rested her hand along Stoner's face. "Then I suspect she will." She brushed Stoner's hair to one side. "Rose Lomahongva went to do whatever needs to be done. We're keeping the Anglos out of this, but you'd probably be welcome."

  "No." Whatever was going on there in the Village-That-Has Forgotten-Its-Name, it had to do with duty, and the passing on of secrets. Her own part was over.

  She looked over at Stell, at her firm-muscled body and earnest blue eyes, the streaks of gray in her hair and eyebrows, the smile lines around her mouth and eyes... and felt such a ballooning of love for her, for real, down-to-earth, big-as-life, ordinary, everyday Stell she thought she'd explode.

  She embraced Stell again. "I hope you live forever."

  "Long enough to be a burden on you, kiddo," Stell said, patting her back.

  Gwen finally hobbled up. "Is this something I should worry about?"

  "Hell no," Stell said and held out an arm to her. "Plenty to go around. You sure had us frantic, pal.”

  "I'd have called, but I was tied up."

  Stoner groaned.

  "By the way," Gwen went on, "Larch Begay's dead."

  "Jesus, you didn't kill another one, did you?"

  Gwen laughed. "Not this time. It was… I'm not sure what it was."

  ''Well,'' said Stell. "There's gonna be a lot of dumb tourists running out of gas around here, and that's as far as my grieving goes." She pulled Gwen's arm across her shoulder and began walking back toward the trading post.

  Stoner took her other side. "Looks like you have a full house."

  "Just Ted, and Laura Yazzie. Jimmy Goodnight was here, but he left. Brought back that doll the old woman gave you. Told me some cock-and-bull story about Begay wanting it for voodoo." She shrugged. ''Way over my head. Anyway, he got to feeling guilty about taking it, and didn't give it to him."

  Stoner fell silent. If Begay had had the doll, she wondered, would it have all come out differently? Would that have shifted the power in his direction? Would she be trapped, deep within the midnight tunnels of Pikyachvi Mesa, waiting to die? Or had Jimmy Goodnight, taking the doll but changing his mind, been playing his part, too?

  ''What's for dinner?" Gwen was asking.

  "Turkey."

  Gwen sighed ecstatically.

  "Turkey?" Stoner asked. "In August?"

  "Yes, turkey in August, you old stick-in-the-mud."

  "But how did you know we'd be here today?"

  "Didn't," Stell said. "Turkey keeps. "

  Stoner grinned, and realized how glad she was to be back in the world of mundane things and practical solutions, where people only know what comes in through their senses, and cook turkey because it keeps.

  * * *

  She woke in the night, and for a moment thought she was back in her room at Siyamtiwa's village. Could have sworn, in fact, that it was the sound of drums and rattles that had awakened her. But the night was quiet.

  And cold. She fumbled for a flannel shirt, slipped her boots on, and eased out the bunkhouse door.

  The desert lay still and empty. No eagle soared overhead, or stirred restlessly on Big Tewa Peak No coyote prowled the shadows of Long Mesa. The Sacred Mountains slept. Only the stars kept guard.

  She sat down on the steps. It's really over, she thought. There was a deep sadness in her, a longing for that stubborn, difficult old woman she had barely known. We didn't even get along, she thought, and smiled, sensing that, for Siyamtiwa, getting along was the last thing that mattered.

  Well, Grandmother, you've left me with a nice mess here. Everything I thought was true is upside down.

  Magic, Pahana. Only magic.

  She looked up sharply, then realized she hadn't heard the words at all, but felt them. Felt them deep inside in some soft, uncharted place, a place without boundaries or rules, a place where clocks never ticked and there was no New Year's Eve, a place where she could soar with the eagle and burrow with the mole, a place where there was light and safety...

  ...and Magic.

  Sensing movement, she looked down at the ground. A small gray spider, so pale it seemed to glow, crept toward her across the sand. It reached her boot and climbed it, swung out in space to catch the cuff of her pajamas. It scurried to her knee and sat looking up at her.

  She held out her hand.

  The spider crawled into her palm.

  She lifted it level with her eyes.

  We did all right, Grandmother.

  Yes, Stoner, we did all right.

  She lowered. her hand to the ground. The spider disappeared down a tiny crack in the earth.

  Magic.

  Talavai, Dawn Spirit, spilled mercury across the desert.

  THE END