Windwalker

by Sharon Sala

  This woman was still Singing Bird, but she had changed. She was no longer smiling and the only thing she was holding was the bow in her hand.

  As they came down the steps of the temple, the more clearly the people saw her. They remembered the condition of Singing Bird’s near-lifeless body they had carried into the palace, and saw hard muscles where soft curves had been. They saw scars on her body and anger on her face that they didn’t understand. As they began noticing the weapon strapped to her leg and the bow and arrows she was carrying, they didn’t know what to think. Was she going to the temple or going to war?

  Layla eyed the crowd closely as they moved past the throng, looking for familiar faces, but now that everyone was dressed the same, it was difficult to single anyone out who’d come with her from before.

  Finally, it was a man with short hair that caught her eye; Montford Nantay, one of the officers of the tribal police. Then she saw his brother, Johnston standing beside him. The shock on their faces as they saw her was understandable. She hadn’t recognized herself. How could they? She had a sudden urge to connect and shouted out.

  “Nantays!”

  A slow smile of relief spread across their faces as they raised a hand in greeting.

  Layla felt their disbelief and knew she was being judged. She wasn’t the same. They had yet to decide if they liked that or not.

  As they kept moving toward the temple, the hot sun put a knot in her belly. Even though she knew this heat would not grow worse, the memories of Firewalker were still with her, but she couldn’t show fear. She walked with her shoulders back, meeting gaze after gaze with her chin up and her fingers curled around the bow.

  The walk was a long one, through the marketplace, beyond the river, then into the brick-paved playa surrounding the temple. But Cayetano was at her side, and the longer they walked the easier she began to feel.

  The quiet in the crowd began to shift, first to a murmur, then once again to many voices saying her name. By the time they started up the steps of the temple, it was an ongoing cheer.

  Cayetano was so proud of her he could hardly maintain his stride. Her instincts had been right. Show no fear. She had their attention in a big way.

  The guards stopped at the base of the temple and then turned to face the crowd as Layla and Cayetano climbed the steps. As they reached the top, four elders came out of the small room.

  Layla arched an eyebrow questioningly.

  “Shamans.”

  She greeted each of them with a nod, and just as she turned to face the crowd, saw an expression on one of the men’s faces that surprised her. He didn’t like her, and without a memory of the past, she didn’t know why.

  But that was for another time. Today was about setting the stage for what was to come. As she turned around, she immediately thought of the day she’d climbed on top of Leland Benally’s truck and spoke to the thousands about what was ahead. Somehow, she had to make that happen again.

  She stood at Cayetano’s side, waiting—wishing for the wind to carry her words, but in this world, Windwalker did not exist.

  Cayetano lifted his arms and the crowd was instantly silent. When he began to speak, Layla was surprised how easily his voice carried to the crowd below.

  “By now you have seen the strangers who came among us. You know Singing Bird brought them, and this is true. You saw their burns. You saw their pain. She too, suffered greatly. You have seen her scars. You have seen her burns. She protected them with her life, and killed their enemies to keep them safe. She left us as the woman at my side. She comes back to us a red feather warrior.”

  Cayetano caught her eye as he took a step back.

  She moved forward without hesitation, unaware that she stood with the majesty and assurance of a queen.

  “I have a story to tell you. I had a journey to take that none of you knew… a warning from our own shamans that could not be ignored. It is about the people who came back with me… the New Ones who stand among us today.”

  The crowd shifted as they scanned the area for strangers’ faces.

  Layla shouted. “Look at them. Do you see them? Now, do you see yourselves in their faces? You should, because your hearts beat as their hearts. Your blood runs in their veins. My journey was a journey of the spirit. I walked through a portal that took me many thousands of years into our future, to a time where Naaki Chava was dying, and so were our people. So were all people.”

  The gasp from the crowd was one of disbelief. How could this massive empire cease to exist? They didn’t believe her and she knew it.

  “This is true, I tell you! And it is what will happen to us if nothing changes. In the times to come, we become weak and sick, and we lose our land to a race of people without color on their skin who will despise us because ours is brown. As time passes, our people become sad because our way of life will be gone. Our language will no longer be spoken, and our lives have been damaged by the white men’s ways. It becomes so bad that our young will take their own lives.”

  She felt the crowd shifting, but she couldn’t tell in which direction.

  “When Firewalker saw this he became very angry.”

  They gasped again, but this time in understanding. They knew Firewalker. There were legends about him throwing pieces of fire from the sky that would burn up trees and leave big holes in the earth.

  Layla felt the empathy and kept pushing.

  “Firewalker became so angry that he launched himself toward earth to destroy it. The People had not taken care of their great gift. They were fighting among themselves to gain power over others. Greed abounded.”

  The crowd was so silent it was as if they were breathing as one. Now she had to find a way to explain the rest.

  “The Old Ones saw Firewalker coming and took pity on The People. They told me to find as many of the tribes as I could find, and before it was too late I must bring them away from harm. My spirit went into this place. I lived there and loved those people as I love you. They did not deserve to die. I began calling them together, and every day as we waited for more to come, bad people came after me.” She touched her scars to accentuate the point. “I fought them and they died.”

  A roar rose into the air… it was a war cry of approval.

  Layla knew they were hearing her. It was going to be okay.

  “Yet as we waited, even more bad people came as I fought them, too.” She held the bow up over her head to illustrate the point. “Firewalker was upon us, even as we were running through land without trees, without water, running through fire in the sky to escape. Look at these strangers among you now and know that they did this with me. They are strong. They, too, are warriors, but of a different kind. These people come with much knowledge. They know everything we did wrong and can show us how to make it right. And…” She paused for effect. “…You must also know that they are all that is left of our race.”

  The gasp that went up throughout the crowd was sudden shock.

  Layla held up her hand and silence followed.

  “This, too, you must understand. They endured terrible hardships as they ran with me. Many fell by the wayside from the fire in the sky. They lost people they loved just to come to Naaki Chava and help me save you. For them, it would have been easier to die.”

  She could see people weeping. Their hearts were full of understanding and empathy.

  “But if you are willing to hear them, and learn from them in the many sleeps to come, their sacrifice will be what saves us from ourselves.”

  She felt Cayetano moving up to stand by her—using his presence as a visual statement of approval.

  He began to speak.

  “The future holds many wonders, but as it is now, we, as a people, will lose ourselves because, while we fight each other, the white men will see us as animals. They make promises that are lies, and kill women and babies. They take the lands that have alwa
ys been our homes, and we will go because we are no match for their weapons, or their number.”

  The silence was telling. She could feel the shock emanating from the vast numbers. Layla took a deep breath, grateful for Cayetano’s help in explaining this.

  “I have seen this in my dreams,” Cayetano said. “If we cease fighting among ourselves, and learn the language of the white men and learn to fight with their weapons, when the time comes for them to step onto our land, we will be ready. These brave people Singing Bird brought with her will have prepared us. We will not make the same mistakes twice. Are you willing to change? Are you willing to let old grudges die for the chance to become one people? A people so vast in numbers and so wise and strong in the ways that when we are finally challenged by this strange race of people, that we stop them where they stand?”

  Another roar went up—a roar so loud and so long that it sent bird life in the nearby jungle into flight; coloring the sky like a rainbow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adam Prince was readjusting to their situation far better than his brother Evan. Evan still cried at night, and his appetite was poor. At the present, he was hanging over a brown earthen bowl, vomiting profusely. Evan was miserable on so many levels Adam was beginning to worry.

  Every morning since their arrival they had eaten with Bazat as he demanded. But it was not a congenial meal as they’d been accustomed to having with Landan Prince. Even though there had been no emotional connection to Prince, he had behaved in a decent manner, while Bazat was proving himself to be a beast.

  This morning had been no exception. When the servants brought in the food, Bazat stuffed it into his mouth as he talked; spewing it back on the rest they were supposed to eat.

  It had been too much for Evan. He threw up at the table, Bazat sent them away, and Evan had been throwing up ever since.

  Adam knew Bazat’s interest in them was waning. It was just a matter of time before he had them killed. He didn’t quite know what to do, but they had to do something before it was too late.

  A monkey sat on the ledge outside their window, staring curiously at them. There had been monkeys on Binini Island, and when Adam looked up and saw it watching, he had a moment of deja’vu, half-expecting their nursemaid to come charging into their room with some medicine for Evan to take.

  Then he remembered those days were over. Binini Island was over. The people were all gone. Earth was gone. Even if they could find the crystal that Bazat had taken from them, he would be afraid to use it again for fear of where they’d wind up. Without knowing how to control the time portal, it could prove deadly. They were in a terrible mess.

  Evan choked on his last spasm and fell backward onto the mat as Adam carried the bowl away. He hurried back with a wet cloth to wipe Evan’s face.

  “I’m so sorry you’re sick.”

  Slow tears rolled from the corners of Evan’s eyes. “I wish we had died too, rather than be here.”

  “No!” Adam cried. “You don’t mean that. As long as there is life there is hope.”

  “This isn’t living,” Evan said and rolled over onto his side and began to sob.

  Adam threw the wet cloth aside and curled up behind his brother until their bodies were spooned one to the other. It was their safest place to be.

  A few moments of silence passed as Adam comforted his twin, but Evan wasn’t ready to be consoled. Adam looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone and then whispered into Evan’s ear.

  “I had a dream last night.”

  Evan stilled. His brother’s dreams were always powerful.

  “Did you dream us a way out of here?”

  “Maybe.”

  Evan rolled over so that they were now facing. “How?”

  “There is a city on the other side of this mountain. I heard one of the servants talking about it. It’s called Naaki Chava.”

  Evan frowned. “One city will be just like another. We time-traveled, Adam. These people are uncivilized.”

  Adam scooted closer so that their faces were nearly touching. He could smell the sour stench of his brother’s breath, but it didn’t matter. Nothing that was of his brother was disgusting to him. He was the other half of himself.

  “People here are uncivilized only because there is no technology like we were used to, but mentally, not much different from any good or bad man. We saw uncivilized behavior in the village on the island, remember? One beat his wife. One slept with children. Civilization, as you mean it, didn’t make them better.”

  Evan’s eyes widened. “I never thought about it like that. So what did you dream?”

  “After I heard about Naaki Chava, I went to see it.”

  Now Evan was nervous and glanced over his shoulder, as well.

  “In your sleep?” he whispered.

  Adam nodded.

  Evan frowned. “You know we agreed not to spirit-walk again. Remember when Madame ReeRee told us what we were doing was dangerous because we have no way to control it. What if you had not found your way back to your body?”

  Adam shrugged. “I don’t think she knew what she was talking about. From the time I leave my body I feel an invisible pull—like I am attached to that body no matter where I go.”

  Evan was intrigued. “Next time you go, I want to go with you.”

  Adam nodded. “There’s something else we need to consider. Sometime in the future, Bazat is going to decide we’re no longer useful and he’ll have us killed.”

  Evan gasped. “What are we going to do? There are jaguars in the jungle. And there will be snakes, poisonous ones, and the big ones that squeeze their prey.”

  “I know, but we chance that death, or sit here and wait for a real one.”

  “When do we go? Where do we go?”

  “I think we go to Naaki Chava.”

  “What if the ruler there is just as mean and crazy as this one?”

  “But he’s not, and neither is his wife. I saw them when I was there. I went into lots and lots of their houses as they lay sleeping. People are happy there. I could feel it.”

  Evan sighed. “But you said it was on the other side of the mountain.”

  Adam nodded.

  Tears welled and rolled down Evan’s face. “We will die before we get there.”

  “Maybe not. There’s something else I haven’t told you. I don’t know how it happened, but there are a lot of people there who are from our time.”

  “So maybe they were like us, here by accident.”

  “No. There are thousands of them, and the woman who brought them there is the chief’s wife.”

  Evan sat up. “Brought them? What do you mean, brought them?”

  Adam sat up beside him, then took his brother’s hands and pulled him so close that their foreheads were touching.

  “Do you remember when we overheard Mr. Prince talking on the phone to that man with the red eyes?”

  “The man who has no skin color? I remember that he came to the island once when we were small. He was scary to look at.”

  “Yes, Tenet. So remember not so long ago when Prince told Tenet to find a woman named Layla Birdsong because he thought she had special powers?”

  Evan nodded. “Mr. Prince was always looking for things with special powers… like us.”

  Adam squeezed Evan’s hands. “Yes, like us. So guess what?”

  Evan’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “The woman who is the chief’s wife is that Layla Birdsong. I know because I could see her dreams. I think she went back in time to save those people. That has to mean she’s good, right? That means they would be good to us, don’t you think?”

  Evan nodded. For the first time since their arrival, he felt a glimmer of hope.

  “When will we go?”

  “I’m not sure. I think we should spirit walk to Naaki Chava tonight and tr
y to talk to the woman. Maybe she would have a plan.”

  ***

  Layla rode Cayetano like she used to ride the horses in Oklahoma, straddling his hips, feeling the blood race through her body just as she used to race the wind. His hands were tight against her waist, pushing her down harder and harder upon his erection with every motion. She liked to watch his face when they made love—with his nostrils flared and the fire in his eyes burning hot for only her.

  Layla fell forward, bracing her arms on either side of his head, as the need for completion rose in her. She was on her knees now, rocking against him while the sweat rolled from their bodies, increasing the friction.

  She heard him groan, and she rolled her hips as she went for the next thrust. It was how he liked it, and she liked making him lose control.

  All of a sudden Layla was on her back and Cayetano was between her legs, pounding himself into her body with force just short of savage. And she started to come.

  One wave rolled through her, turning her body to sand. The second wave came afterward with such force that for a heartbeat, she felt as if she was being washed away. She arched her back to catch the third wave, and rode it all the way out to where it disappeared. But then the last wave came, and she threw her head back and screamed.

  It was her scream that took Cayetano’s breath. He grunted as if he’d been kicked, spilling his seed in a series of short, jerky thrusts.

  When their lust had been sated, he rolled over onto the sleeping mat and took her with him. Their eyes closed in mutual exhaustion, and within seconds, they slept.

  ***

  It was some hours later when the air within their room began to stir. Layla woke abruptly, thinking that a storm might be on the horizon, but when she opened her eyes, there was no storm—only two boys, standing at her feet. She saw them, but at the same time, saw through them. That was when she gasped.

  Cayetano woke with a knife in his hand, his heart pounding.

  “What?” he asked, looking into the darkness for signs of an intruder.

  “Can you see them?” she asked.