Ancient Forces Collection

by Bill Myers

  “Ryan . . .”

  He turned back toward her. “What?”

  But the words would not come. She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  He started to turn, but she had to say something.

  “Just . . . we could sure use your support tomorrow. Dark Bear did a real number at Swift Arrow’s council tonight. People were choking and gasping for air and everything. And tomorrow night is Dark Bear’s council. So we’re going to get together first thing in the morning and pray with Swift Arrow.”

  Ryan nodded absently. “I’ll try to be there. Listen, it’s getting pretty late . . .”

  Becka shrugged again. “Of course, back home we’d consider this too early to go to bed.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan answered, “but things are a lot different here than back home.”

  They certainly were, Becka thought.

  “Well . . . good night.” And then, without another word, he stooped down and disappeared into his tent.

  Becka sat there trying to swallow back the tightness growing in her throat. Maybe it really was over between them. Maybe he really did want to call it quits. She closed her eyes. Actually, that would be good news compared to her other fear. The fear that something was coming between Ryan and God.

  “ ‘In later times some will abandon the faith,’ ” Z had quoted. “ ‘They will follow deceiving spirits and things taught by demons.’ ”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. She knew whom Z was talking about. Something was happening to Ryan. Something spiritual. And something very, very evil . . .

  Aaaooowlll . . .

  The wind blew strongly that night. It howled through the canyon, making it impossible for Ryan to sleep. He lay awake, his mind running in a thousand directions at once. What he’d experienced in the cave . . . was that really the Great Spirit choosing him? And was the Great Spirit really God, the same God he had learned to follow and love as a Christian? But if it was the same God, why did he feel so uneasy? And yet why was he so attracted to it, so anxious to go deeper, to connect more fully with it, with this . . . spirit?

  Aaaooowlll . . .

  Scott bolted up in his sleeping bag, even though he looked like he was still half asleep. “What was that?” he mumbled.

  “I think it’s the wind,” Ryan said.

  “I don’t know,” Scott muttered. “I was dreaming about a wolf. Maybe it’s a wolf.”

  Aaaooowlll . . .

  “Whatever it is, it’s down in the canyon,” Ryan said. “Maybe it’s Dark Bear. Little Creek says some of the old shamans could change themselves into animals — usually wolves or bears. They call it . . . shape-shifting.”

  Scott didn’t answer, and Ryan realized he had already drifted back to sleep.

  Aaaooowlll . . .

  Ryan knew it was no wolf. But he also knew it was more than the wind. There was something inside it, something calling. Something connected to the eagle. Something calling him . . .

  Unable to sleep and growing more and more attracted to the sound, Ryan quietly crawled from his sleeping bag, slipped on his clothes, and stepped out into the night.

  It was exhilarating. The stars. The full moon. The wind. He’d barely stepped out of the tent, drinking it all in, when the cry came again.

  Aaaooowlll . . .

  For the briefest second, he thought it was Little Creek signaling him. But this was something far deeper and more important. He sensed that it was somehow connected to the Great Spirit. Feeling the pull more strongly, he finally gave in to the impulse. He began walking toward Dark Bear’s holy place.

  Ever since the avalanche, he had wanted to go back to the place of stones. And since the encounter with the eagle in the cave, the desire had become irresistible.

  As he walked, Ryan reached into his jacket pocket. The flask Little Creek had given him was still there. Ryan knew he had another choice awaiting him. He could continue being what he now thought was a coward — he could continue going only halfway, being caught between the two worlds and never finding out the truth. Or he could have the courage to go all the way, to see what was really out there, to totally give in and see what the Great Spirit really had in store.

  With a deep breath, he chose the latter. He shook the flask, making sure there was still plenty of tea left. He unscrewed the lid. The warning bells went off again, but this time they were faint, barely discernible. Still, just to be certain, he lifted the flask to his lips and quickly drank down the tea before he could change his mind.

  There . . . now he’d done it. In just a few minutes, it would begin.

  It wasn’t long before the canyon began to shift and move, almost like it was a living organism. The wind continued its howling, but now he could hear the voices clearly. Human voices. By the time he arrived at the place of stones, the tea’s effect was incredible. Ryan looked up. There, just as he had expected, perched on the highest rock, was the magnificent eagle.

  It sat there majestically, looking at him, waiting for him. And then, a moment later, it spread out its giant wings.

  Instinctively, Ryan extended his own arms as if he, too, had wings.

  Then they were flying. Together. Soaring over the great peaks and canyons, taking turns diving into the valley. Circling higher and higher and higher.

  And then Ryan slept.

  Becka was up at dawn. She dressed and headed for the boys’ tent. This was the morning of prayer, when they would join together and intercede for Swift Arrow, against Dark Bear. This was when the job would really be done. But when Becka got to the tent and saw the open flap door, she knew Ryan was gone.

  “Scott!” she called. She reached in and shook him. “Scotty, wake up!”

  “Wha-what?”

  “Where’s Ryan?” she demanded. “Where did Ryan go?”

  Scott roused himself a bit and looked over at Ryan’s sleeping bag. “He’s . . . Where’d he go?” Scott frowned, trying to remember. “The wolf.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He left last night.” Scott reached for his shirt. “Give me a sec, and I’ll help you look for him.”

  A minute later the two were off looking for Ryan.

  “What were you saying about wolves?” Becka asked.

  “I don’t remember. I mean, it sounded like a wolf.”

  “There was a wolf out here?” Becka cried in alarm. “You let him go out and see if there was a wolf?”

  Scott rubbed his head. “No . . . that was the dream part. At least, I think it was a dream. But I do remember the wind howling and him getting up in the middle of the night.”

  “We’ve got to find him,” Becka said. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

  But they didn’t find him. The two looked everywhere in the village but with no success. And since they didn’t see Little Creek, they assumed he and Ryan were together.

  “I think we need to talk to Z again,” Becka finally said. “That Bible verse he gave us — I’m pretty sure I understand it now.”

  “You do?”

  “I think part of it is a warning for Ryan.”

  “Let me head back to the tent and get my laptop,” Scott said.“I’ll meet you at the general store in five minutes.”

  Becka agreed, and in less than half that time, they were again connecting the computer to the store’s phone outlet.

  When Scott logged on, Z was not there, but his answer was already waiting:

  Remember, you are fighting two battles . . . one offense, the other defense. Regardless of the fight, your weapons are the same: prayer and the Word of God. Activate these weapons through faith. If you do, you will be victorious. If you do not, you will perish.

  Z

  Ryan woke up in the cave. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there until he saw Little Creek by the dim light of the lantern.

  “Hello,” Little Creek said. “I found you asleep on top of the stones in Dark Bear’s holy place. I couldn’t rouse you, and I was afraid you’d be blistered by the sun, so I dragged you in here.”
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  “I’m in the cave again?” Ryan groaned.

  Little Creek chuckled. “Yeah. If I’m to be your personal taxi and haul you from place to place, I’ll have to start charging a fare.”

  Ryan smiled, and Little Creek asked, “You took the tea again, didn’t you?”

  Ryan slowly sat up, then looked deep into his friend’s eyes. “I flew with the eagle.”

  “No!” Little Creek cried in astonishment. “Really?”

  Ryan nodded.

  “You flew with the eagle? I only know one other who has done such a thing. What was it like?”

  “It was . . .” Ryan paused, remembering. And then he grinned. “Incredible.”

  When Becka and Scott returned to their tent, they found Swift Arrow already waiting with their mom.

  “Before we start our prayer,” Swift Arrow said quietly, “I must say I’m not even certain I have heard correctly from the Lord.”

  “What do you mean?” Mom asked gently.

  Swift Arrow frowned. “How do I even know this is what the Lord wants?”

  “Swift Arrow,” Becka began, “we just got off the Internet with Z. He says we have two tools — the Bible and prayer. You know the Word; you know God wants to reach your village with his love. He wants to reach everybody.”

  Swift Arrow looked down. “I know God wants the people of Starved Rock to be saved. But perhaps . . . I’m not the man to do it. I am too timid, too weak.”

  “No way,” Scott protested. “David was just a punk kid when God used him against Goliath. He was weak, but he was strong because his strength depended upon God.”

  Swift Arrow nodded. “But David was a man of great faith.”

  “What about Moses?” Mom added. “He had so little faith he didn’t want the job God asked him to do. Or Jonah. He tried to get out of what God had called him for. The Bible couldn’t be clearer, Swift Arrow. God uses whom he chooses. It doesn’t have to make sense to us, just to God. All you have to do is be willing to obey.”

  Swift Arrow looked at the three of them. “I guess I’d better start agreeing with you or you will never stop preaching at me. Am I correct?”

  Scott and Becka both broke out laughing. Mom grinned along with them.

  “You got that right,” Scott agreed.

  “Just tell us you’ll obey God’s Word and not give up,” Becka said.

  Swift Arrow almost smiled. “All right, all right. I will obey. I will not give up.”

  “That’s all it takes,” Mom said.

  “But what should I do?”

  “Follow Z’s advice,” Becka said. “We know what the Word of God says about this situation. Now all that is left is to pray.”

  “May we begin?” Swift Arrow asked.

  “Let’s do it,” Scott said.

  And so the four began to pray . . . At first they started off with quiet worshiping, thanking God for his past faithfulness. Then they sang a couple of worship songs that they all knew. And finally, they began thanking the Lord in advance for what he was about to do. They weren’t sure what the details would be, but they were sure of one thing: It would be awesome. It always was when God did something.

  But even as they prayed, even as they prepared for whatever that night would bring, Becka could not shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

  Ryan was in danger.

  9

  It was nearly lunchtime when Ryan returned to camp. Becka was lighting the grill to cook hot dogs. When she saw Ryan and Little Creek, she leaped to her feet and raced to Ryan.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you . . . Where did you go?”

  Ryan threw her a glance. For the first time she could remember, he looked angry at her. “I just went out, okay? Your brother thought he heard a noise, and I went out to investigate.”

  “What did you find?”

  He looked at her strangely. “Where?”

  “When you went out to investigate. What did you find?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Then why didn’t you come back? Why weren’t you here for prayer with Swift Arrow, like you said you would be?”

  Finally, Ryan exploded. “Will you stop trying to own me?”

  A moment of silence followed. Part of Becka wanted to turn and run away, but there was something wrong here, and she had to get to the bottom of it. When she answered, she was surprised at how calm and controlled her voice sounded. “I just asked where you were.”

  “I was busy,” he snapped.

  Becka stood, unsure what to do. She was grateful when Mom, always the peacekeeper, called out from her place near the grill, “Ryan . . . are you guys hungry? We’ve got plenty of hot dogs here. What about you, Little Creek? You must be starved.”

  “Thanks,” Ryan said softly. “I’m famished.”

  “Me too,” Little Creek added.

  After lunch Mom headed back to the store for some groceries, and Scott and Little Creek decided to gather up firewood for the evening. That left Becka sitting by herself, staring off into the mountains.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Ryan said softly from behind her.

  Becka sighed. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?” he asked as he crossed to the log and joined her.

  She gave no answer.

  “Look,” Ryan began, “I know I let you down this morning.”

  Becka said nothing.

  “But the reason we’re out here is for spiritual stuff, isn’t it? I’m just trying to learn all these cool things God is showing me.”

  Becka looked at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “How do you know that?”

  “How do I know it’s cool? Because Little Creek has been — ”

  “No,” Becka interrupted. “How do you know God is showing you these things?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of stuff just because it’s different, Beck.”

  “I’m not afraid, but I’m not taking dangerous chances either.”

  “Who’s taking chances?” There was no missing the edge in Ryan’s voice. “I’m just learning about another culture.”

  “By trying out all its rituals?” Becka asked. “After all we’ve been through, that sounds pretty risky to me.”

  Ryan looked away. She’d hit a nerve, and she knew it.

  Suddenly he was on his feet. “I knew you’d take it this way,” he muttered angrily. “I was hoping to be able to share with you some of the wonderful experiences I’ve been having, but of course you’re judging me before I can get a word out.”

  He started walking away, but now Becka was on her feet. “Then why don’t you tell me?” He stopped, and she continued, “You’re right, Ryan. I am being judgmental, but it’s because I don’t know anything you’ve been doing. I mean, what do you and Little Creek do out there all day? Where do you go?”

  Before Ryan could answer, Scott and Little Creek appeared, each carrying an armload of firewood.

  “Hey, guys,” Scott said. “What’s up?”

  “Your sister,” Ryan grumbled. “As usual, she’s up in her ivory tower trying to tell the rest of us what to do.”

  Becka bit her lip. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes, but she would not let Ryan see her cry. Not now. Not here.

  Ryan spun around and headed back out, away from camp. Little Creek dumped his load of firewood and started after him. “Hey, Ryan! Ryan, wait up.”

  A long moment of silence followed. Now the tears were spilling onto Becka’s cheeks. But that was okay because now there was nobody to see them.

  “Hey, Beck . . .” Nobody but Scott. “Becka, you all right?”

  She nodded without looking at him. “Yeah.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Did you find out what’s eating him?”

  Becka shook her head.

  He sighed loudly. “That’s too bad.” Then he turned and walked away.

  Becka was grateful that Scott was leaving because she had made up her m
ind. If Ryan wouldn’t tell her what he was up to, she would find out for herself.

  It wasn’t difficult to follow Ryan and Little Creek out of the village and into the mountains. Knowing Little Creek’s keen senses, Becka gave the boys plenty of leeway so they wouldn’t see or hear her. Soon they arrived at what she took to be Dark Bear’s holy place. It fit what they’d described . . . and it gave her the creeps. The ground was still covered from the avalanche. She looked at the stones and frowned. There was a pattern in the way they lay on the ground.

  Dark Bear had been hard at work.

  Just then Little Creek and Ryan veered off the path and headed into the weeds. Becka followed. The brush and grass were up to her chest, and it was hard not to lose track of the guys while trying to walk as quietly as possible.

  They were approaching a tall, looming cliff. The ground sloped steeply, and she struggled to keep her footing as she followed them. Eventually they came to the base of the cliff. At the bottom was a round, dark shadow . . . a cave.

  Crouching low in the weeds, Becka watched Ryan and Little Creek enter the cave. She wondered how far it went, if she could follow them in without being spotted — or getting lost. It was worth the risk. She silently crossed to the cave, took a look inside, and then entered.

  It was entirely dark inside, except for the reflection of Little Creek’s light up ahead. Carefully, Becka inched her way along the cave floor, trying to keep quiet and yet trying to keep the light in view. But she could not do both. The light was moving too quickly. For one brief moment she wanted to run back to the entrance before she was plunged into total darkness, but she fought off the impulse. She’d come this far, and she wasn’t about to back down now.

  She glanced back toward the dim light. To her relief, it no longer seemed to be moving. The guys must have stopped. She scurried along, trying to be as quiet as possible. She eased forward little by little until, finally, she saw them.