by Ching, G. P.
“Fatima?”
The woman pivoted, giving Malini an unsettling view of her multiple limbs. Her dark eyes twinkled with stars—the light from the past, present, and future of every life on Earth.
“Welcome, Healer,” Fatima said.
“Can we have tea?”
“Certainly.” Fatima straightened her back and tugged a section of fabric, along with six of her arms inside her torso. The golden dress she wore consisted mostly of beads and clung to her flawless russet skin in a way that defied gravity. She sashayed her perfect silhouette onto the veranda. Malini followed.
“Lucifer is up to something,” Malini began.
“Lucifer is always up to something.” A pot of tea appeared on the bistro-style table, and Fatima took a seat before pouring two cups.
Sitting across from her, Malini sighed deeply. “Yes, but you must know this is something big or you wouldn’t have saved Dane and made him what he is.”
Fatima stopped, her cup halfway to her lips. “Fate does not alter the past, present, or future. She simply records the unfolding of the universe.”
Malini sipped her tea, a lovely infusion of citrus and oolong. “You’re right. It must have been some other woman with eight arms and a web sack full of holy water.”
The corner of Fatima’s mouth lifted.
“So then, do you have some advice for me as I attempt to thwart Lucifer’s latest plan of attack?”
“Of course, it would be against my general prerogative to give you advice, but I’ve been wanting to tell you a story … for your entertainment.”
“Please, I’d love to hear a story.” Malini tried not to seem too anxious, although she knew she was pressed for time. Fatima rarely offered help in any form. She’d take what she could get.
“I noticed you recently found the Hopi boy, Cheveyo.”
“Yes.”
“Fascinating culture, the Hopi. The oldest native culture in the Americas, and still living as they did at the dawn of creation.” Fatima sipped her tea.
Malini looked out across the rolling green countryside, where a giant brown animal frolicked in the distance. She smiled. Wisnu. The mongoose had saved her life once. He was too busy catching lunch to say hello. She turned her attention back toward Fatima.
“According to Hopi emergence mythology, in the beginning, the people lived below the earth. The chiefs of the tribe heard footsteps above ground and wondered about the top of the world’s crust. They sent up a bird to find a way to the new world.
“The Hopi goddess, Spider Woman, inserted a reed into the earth, allowing the Hopi to climb to what is now the Fourth World. They’d done so before, moving from one existence to the next.”
Malini shifted in her chair. “Spider Woman, you say. Interesting.”
“Yes, very. Spider Woman created a new world for the Hopi and everything in it. She wove the sun and the moon, corn, adobe. The new world was good, and the people thrived. But the reed remained, and when a Hopi died, some souls chose to slide back down to the underworld.”
“Hell?” Malini asked.
“No!” Fatima shook her head. “Not Hell. The Hopi underworld is a good, happy place filled with Hopi spirits. They call them Kachinas, the spirits of their ancestors. For the Hopi, there is a thin line between death and life. Their medicine women and priests walk this line regularly with their rituals, and Hopi ancestors are active in the Fourth World.”
“I don’t understand, Fatima. Is the Hopi underworld the same as Heaven? Are the medicine women Healers like me?”
Fatima laughed. “I forget you are a baby when it comes to the history of the world. Stop trying to fit others into your lexicon, Malini. Heaven? Hell? The underworld? Up, down, over, beyond. You humans try your best to fit things into your construct. True, everything and everyone is connected: Spider Woman’s threads crisscross the universe. But connection and truth are very different things. The Hopi truth is different from your truth. Hopi don’t go to your Heaven. They don’t need to. Their medicine women do not lead Soulkeepers, but their magic is powerful.”
“And all is part of the master plan?”
“Yes.”
Malini finished the tea in her cup.
“One of the first Soulkeepers was Hopi.”
She set the cup down and shot Fatima an inquisitive look.
“Everything is connected.”
“Yes, I’m getting that message loud and clear,” Malini said.
“Good. Then before you go, Death and I have something to talk to you about.”
By the thrumming in her right arm, she could tell he was close. Death, otherwise known as Henry, had given her the skeletal arm that could kill the living with a single touch and raise the dead to do her bidding. When Henry was near, the thing vibrated like a tuning fork.
“Hello, Henry,” Malini said, turning around to see him standing behind her.
He bowed stiffly at the waist. “Malini. Nice to see you again.”
In the distance, she noticed Mara, astride a black mare. “Will Mara be joining us?” Malini asked.
“She says you won’t be here long, and I should get straight to the matter at hand.”
“What’s going on?” Now Malini was worried.
“We’re missing souls,” Fatima interjected. Her extra arms pulled her tapestry out and held the weaving up to the ambient light from above. There was no sun in the In Between, but the sky was uniformly bright. A series of red dots appeared in the pattern.
Henry explained. “I feel the death of the body but can’t find the soul.”
“These red dots are lives that have ended before their time.” Fatima ran her hand over the cloth. “Both body and soul, ended.”
“What does it mean? Have you ever seen this before?” Malini asked.
“Souls disappear off Fate’s tapestry when Watchers take them to Nod,” Henry said, “but the body doesn’t die. Usually, I can’t even see them in Nod.”
“So the Watchers are taking more people than usual to Nod but…”
“We think they are killing them there,” Fatima said. “Slaughtering them actually, by the numbers.”
Malini shook her head. “Why would they do that? I always thought they kept people forever, as servants or pets.”
“They can and they used to,” Henry said.
“We don’t know for sure, but we think Lucifer is doing this to get your attention. He’s trying to smoke you out.”
“Smoke me out?”
Henry scowled. “Out of Eden. He has wanted his revenge since you fouled his sacrifice, but when you go to Eden you fall off his radar. Lucifer can only be in one place at a time and time is not on his side. Eden is a thorn in his side.”
The red dots glowed menacingly. How could she stop this? Lucifer was trying to get her attention, all right. He was goading her. But the Soulkeepers couldn’t react fast enough, not with their small numbers. If they could just anticipate where the Watchers would strike next, they could protect the humans involved. They’d gotten by this far because Watcher activity was naturally limited. None of them liked to be above ground for any amount of time; it drained their sorcery and put them at personal risk, a state that worked against the fallen angels’ notoriously self-serving nature. But this number of abductions was calculated. This was organized. And the fact that the Watchers were killing them, probably to make room for new abductions, made her nauseous.
“Until next time, Malini,” Henry said.
“Wait—” She’d promised the council she’d check on Ethan’s thread, but there was no time. The walls blurred, and the familiar stomach-dropping lurch of trading dimensions hit her full force. She wasn’t ready. She needed more time, more information. Malini jerked backward, out of the In Between, and landed in her body with a jolt. Jacob was shaking her shoulder vigorously, and Mr. White looked furious.
“Well, Ms. Gupta?” Mr. White folded his hands and stared at her expectantly.
Malini blinked at the board behind him.
; He wants to know why you think the author wrote Beowulf.
Malini sat up straighter at her desk. “The author wrote Beowulf because the world needed a hero. He was the first real hero: strong, courageous, self-sacrificing. The author was using fiction to call out the best in people.”
“Good insight, Ms. Gupta, as always, and thank you, Mr. Lau, for keeping her with us.”
Her face burned from embarrassment. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“What did you find out? You look like the sky is falling,” Jacob whispered, not taking his eyes off the board.
“Later.” Malini squared her notebook in front of her with every intention of focusing on Mr. White’s lesson. Only, as she scratched notes on her notebook, none of them had anything to do with Beowulf. Words filled the paper at odd angles. Hopi. Nod. Death. Souls. Eden. Lucifer. Soulkeepers. Smoked out. In large letters, she wrote defend the humans. She underlined defend, then mutated the word to read defense. A lightning bolt of inspiration brought her pen back to the paper. She crossed out defense and wrote offense, underlining the word repeatedly. The part of her that was ancient and immortal kicked into gear. Malini had a plan, and Lucifer was about to get more than he bargained for.
Chapter 23
Medicine Woman
Malini arrived in the Walpi village on First Mesa that evening, having promised Cheveyo and Dane she would check on Raine. While she sensed the girl was still alive, she feared what she would learn from this visit. What was Cheveyo’s presence doing to Dane? Oddly jumpy, the loud bang that accompanied her arrival by enchanted staff scared her as much as the native people in the plaza around her. A young boy, shirtless, barefoot, and dressed in a pair of red cotton shorts that seemed out of place with the natural surroundings, widened his eyes at her.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Malini. I’m here to see your medicine woman.”
The boy pointed toward a pueblo to the west, then took off in the opposite direction, no doubt to tell his family about what he’d seen. She wouldn’t lie if they asked her who she was or how she’d come, but she wouldn’t offer the information either.
Malini knocked on the door of the dwelling and was met by the hunched form of a Hopi woman. Her wrinkled brown skin reminded Malini of Panctu, the Peruvian medicine woman and Healer. She rubbed the ache in her chest; she missed Panctu, especially now when she needed her wisdom.
“Are you Willow?” Malini asked.
“Yes. What are you called?”
“Malini. I am a medicine woman of … my tribe. I’m here on behalf of Cheveyo.”
“Cheveyo? Our Cheveyo?” Willow played with the beads that hung around her neck, wrapping the string around her fingers nervously. “Where is he?”
Malini sighed. “Can I see Raine? Cheveyo is concerned about her health.”
Willow narrowed her eyes and pressed her thin lips together. “He should be. Very worried. He has made her ill with a sickness my medicine cannot cure. I can barely keep her alive.”
“May I see her?” Malini asked.
Willow seemed distrustful but stepped back to allow Malini to enter the adobe house. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see the truth of Willow’s words. Raine lay on a cot near the far wall, her skin tinted gray and smelling of Watcher rot. She remembered that smell when Katrina had been possessed by Cord. The Watcher ate the flesh from the inside out and left behind a black, oily decay. Malini wasn’t sure why Cheveyo’s possession of Raine had caused the same symptoms as Watcher possession. It was an odd and dangerous gift to have.
“I’ve come just in time,” Malini said. “I can heal her, but I’ll need water.”
Willow nodded. “I have some here, but I have already purified her body.” She pointed at a pot on a wooden table.
Malini approached Raine and knelt beside the cot. She loosened the collar of the girl’s tunic, watching her chest rise and fall with each shallow sip of air. Malini placed her left hand on Raine’s sternum. The girl’s body seized beneath her touch.
“What are you doing?” Willow asked.
The stench of burning flesh filled the room, drowning out the scent of herbs strung drying across the ceiling. Oily black fluid oozed from Raine’s nostrils, out the corner of her mouth, and from under her fingernails. Malini’s skin blistered.
“Stop!” Willow rattled something off in her native tongue and grabbed Malini’s shoulder.
Almost there. Malini sensed Raine’s life force flowing back into her. She fought Willow off with her gloved right hand and winced against the burn climbing to her shoulder.
Willow must have noticed the way Raine’s cheeks pinked because she mumbled either a curse or a prayer, and backed away from Malini.
Raine coughed and opened her eyes.
“Who are you?” Willow murmured.
Malini removed her hand from Raine’s chest and plunged it into the pot of water. “I’m Malini. I’m a medicine woman and a friend of Cheveyo’s. He sent me here to heal Raine. He cares for both of you and is deeply sorry for inflicting you with this.”
Raine pushed herself up, smoothing her hair back from her face. Willow ran to her side, running hands over her hair, body, legs. “I’m fine, Willow,” Raine said. “I feel much better.”
Willow handed her a wet rag to clean her face, then turned on Malini. “This is strong medicine. Where do you come from?”
Disappointed that her arm wasn’t feeling much better, Malini pulled it from the water. It was healing but not as usual. Slowly. Painfully. And the water was leaving red streaks in its wake on her skin.
“I am a Soulkeeper,” she said. “I, and people like me, have been put here to fight demons, ah, bad Kachinas. Cheveyo was manipulated by a bad Kachina, but he’s not anymore. He’s with us.”
“So you found his body?” Raine asked.
Malini shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
“Well then, is he possessing someone? Do they understand this could happen to them?”
“We know. His host is strong and is aware of the risks.” Malini hoped her words were true. “Cheveyo will be relieved you’re okay.”
Malini pulled her arm from the water. It didn’t hurt anymore, but the skin wasn’t normal. Pinkish streaks scarred her brown skin. “Is this water?”
“Yes, straight from the river.” Willow approached her cautiously as if Malini was something from the beyond.
“The scarring isn’t normal and the smell…” Malini lowered her nose to her arm. “You’re sure there are no herbs in this? Maybe the pot wasn’t clean?”
Willow’s jaw dropped open as if she were offended. “Of course the pot was clean. I use this only for water.”
Raine cleared her throat. “The water does have an odor. You don’t notice it as much if you live here, but if you leave the reservation and come back, the scent is awful.”
Malini sniffed it again and gasped. Elixir. Watcher elixir was faint but distinguishable. “How long have you noticed the smell, Raine?” she asked.
“For a while … months. People here think the coal-powered generating station on Navajo lands is polluting the water, maybe dumping or leaking or something.”
Icy fingers walked up Malini’s spine and gripped the base of her skull. Her scalp prickled. She reached for her staff.
“A coal-powered generating station? Here?”
Raine nodded. “The power goes outside the reservation, of course, but the company pays the Navajo a percentage to use their land. We’re downstream. I’ve joined an environmental coalition at my school to try to stop the pollution and force the NGS to use greener processing methods.”
Swallowing hard, Malini pressed her eyes closed. “Raine, do you know the name of the company that owns NGS?”
“Sure. Harrington Enterprises.”
Malini stared at the tracks on her arm and groaned. This was so much bigger than she’d thought. Harrington was everywhere, and the elixir was everywhere. How in the world could the Soulkeepers def
end against something as ubiquitous as this?
Willow reached out and took Malini’s damaged hand in hers. “Thank you for healing Raine and caring for Cheveyo. We are in your debt.”
“You’re welcome. I need to go, Raine, Willow. As soon as we find Cheveyo’s body, I hope to return here with him.”
“Healer,” Willow said, “I am in your debt. If you need anything…”
Malini nodded.
The old woman sandwiched Malini’s healing hand between her own and met her eyes. They shared a moment of connection that transcended the physical world.
“We live in a time of bad spirits. Be vigilant,” Malini said.
Willow released her.
From behind her, Raine stood from the cot. “Thank you, Malini, for healing me.”
Malini gave the girl a firm hug, then exited the pueblo and tapped her staff on the dirt road.
Chapter 24
Trojan Horse
Dane hated lying to his mother, but he had no choice. Five days had passed, spent in shifts by his father’s bedside, eating crappy hospital cafeteria food, and whispering to Walter and Jenny about what they needed to do if his dad didn’t wake up. A field of corn would be ready to harvest in a couple of weeks. Someone needed to service the combines, and manage the temporary workers his father had hired to help with their three hundred acres.
What he couldn’t tell Jenny and Walter was he wouldn’t be around to help them. In a week, Auriel would come for him. Even if he survived her, Cheveyo was dying inside of him. Dane worked harder and harder to wake the guy up each day, and when his consciousness did surface in the back of his brain, his voice was nothing but a whisper. Dane didn’t even try to close the steel door any more. He didn’t have to. Cheveyo was a limp, wisp of a spirit, and Dane only hoped he’d find some way to save him before it was too late.
