The odd fact that these two shadows could disregard the daylight didn’t seem unusual to them anymore. There were many ways that their Skinwalker power had been growing recently. Changing over from human to their animal personas in broad daylight was just one more special power that they and their brothers could use in the Quest.
“Did this woman’s meddling cause the loss of one of our newest Skinwalker recruits?” the Wolf questioned his lieutenant.
“Not at all,” the Raven replied. “The ‘changeover’ powder you supplied was too potent for our young cult member. But there will not be any residue left in his body. The autopsy will show only a defective heart.
“The one who died took a double dose,” the Raven continued with much trepidation. “Thinking to make himself stronger and more powerful than his opponents.”
“Hmm. That he’s dead is your fault, Raven. You are the one who is in charge of formulations and doses. Use the mind-control tricks I taught you to make sure all the young Dine follow orders. This one teenager was of no consequence, but I refuse to lose any of the others. The point is to build an army of young Skinwalkers to do our bidding.”
Secretly quaking in fear at his boss’s tone of voice, the Raven tried to change the subject. “You believe this white woman can be of use to us?” He knew the woman doctor, but had not considered her to be particularly special, and certainly of no worth in the Skinwalkers’ campaign for money and power.
The Wolf growled, low and deep in his throat. “She can cause chaos by not knowing the Navajo Way, and she might distract the Brotherhood. That alone is worth some effort.”
“But she is a medical doctor and might uncover what we are attempting to do with the young men. You want to try the mind control on her as we did with the other bilagáana woman? It didn’t turn out too well then. These whites are too stupid to submit quietly.”
Showing his fangs in a sharp move that disturbed the Raven’s perch, the Wolf narrowed his eyes at his comrade.
“Use your human powers to control this one,” he snapped. “Whites can be easily persuaded. Put fear into her heart and confuse her. That’s all we require for now to cause the Brotherhood trouble.
“I need distractions and time,” the Wolf continued. “Especially for the Navajo doctor, the one who tries to walk the line between traditionalist and modern culture.”
“But his new illness…”
The Wolf waved off the Raven’s concerns. “He has more power than most, power enough to reach beyond his disease and still cause us problems. I want him neutralized, and I intend to steal as much of his energy as I can.”
“Dr. Hardeen wants to see you in his office, Dr. Sommer,” Russel, the nurse-practitioner, announced before he spun and stormed down the corridor.
Uh-oh. Tory figured her boss would give her a lecture about going out alone after dark last night. Okay, she’d agreed with him that she would take no chances. But sheesh, she was tired and didn’t need another boring lecture today.
She had hoped Dr. Hardeen wouldn’t have returned yet from the tribal council meeting in Window Rock. No such luck. There wasn’t anything to do but take it now.
Pushing loose strands of damp hair behind her ear, she put down Ben’s chart and marched toward Dr. Hardeen’s office. She’d overslept by an hour, dashed in and out of the shower and then drove like a madwoman to get here. And it was a little later than she had planned. But she’d been pleased to learn that Ben was already sitting up, dressed and waiting for her to sign him out.
First, though, Tory steeled herself to take Dr. Hardeen’s lecture. She wasn’t terribly happy to do so. She was a grown woman, a physician, and it irked her no end to be cautioned about going out at night.
Did her employer have the right to put her on some kind of curfew? Not in any circumstance that she could think of. But she warned herself to keep her mouth shut. She was a stranger to the ways of the rez, had signed a contract with the clinic to work here and had been lucky to find this way to pay off her loan.
The door to her boss’s office was closed when she got there. She tapped lightly then pushed it open a few inches.
“You wanted to see me,” she called out around the door. She waited to be acknowledged before walking in, but peeked past the door’s edge anyway.
“What?” he said absently as he stood bending over his desk. Dr. Hardeen was apparently looking for something, but in a second he raised his chin and spotted her standing there. “Oh. Tory. Yes, come in. Come in.”
Raymond Hardeen had to be in his early fifties. A soft-spoken man with thinning white hair cut short in a business style, he was often distracted but had a nice disposition. Tory liked what she’d learned about his background.
He had founded the Raven Wash Clinic nearly twenty years ago and had fought lengthy, difficult battles in order to obtain enough financing to run the place long-term. Today, the clinic operated on a combination of tribal money, private insurance payments and semipermanent federal Indian grants. The community owed him a huge debt of gratitude.
Along the way, Raymond Hardeen had also discovered his flair for politics and had run for the office of Raven Wash Chapter delegate to the tribal council. There were one hundred and ten chapters on the reservation. But Tory imagined that none of the others had a delegate who was quite so well-respected.
In her opinion, it was a good possibility that next year Dr. Hardeen would be elected president of the entire Navajo Nation. He made a terrific administrator.
“Have a seat, Tory.”
She did as he asked, gritted her teeth and waited for the lecture. As much as she liked him, another of his advisories would be more than she could stand today.
“I see you were the attending for Dr. Ben Wauneka last night. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him for a couple of weeks. Now seems a good time.”
“About Ben?” And there would be no lecture?
“Wauneka is a competent physician, treating the People in an area where there has been no medical care in the past. He provides a much-needed service.
“And I like the guy, even though I think he’s a bit of a hypocrite,” Dr. Hardeen continued with a sigh. “He’s one of those people who are enthralled with a romantic version of the Navajo past, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. It’s people like him who tend to hold back progress. You know what I mean?”
Tory nodded but was beyond puzzled about what any of this might have to do with her.
“I want the Dine to move forward, not backward,” Dr. Hardeen droned on. “We deserve the best that medicine and science have to offer. The People are descendants of an ancient civilization, far superior to most. They should have good jobs, quality education and the best health care.”
Yes, Dr. Hardeen certainly made a good politician. Blah, blah, blah. Tory wondered how long he could continue this way, but she sat back and let him go on.
“You may or may not know it, but Ben Wauneka is more than an M.D. He’s also a medicine man…one of the traditional crystal gazers.”
“Yes, I had heard that, but…”
Dr. Hardeen smiled at her and his eyes crinkled up behind his reading glasses. “Good. But I’ll bet you don’t know he has a secret.”
Of course she didn’t know Ben’s secrets. What business was it of hers? She straightened up, shook her head and bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet.
“Dr. Wauneka is going blind.”
“What? How do you know that? Are you his regular physician?” She’d checked Ben’s pupils a half-dozen times in the last twenty-four hours. What had she missed?
Dr. Hardeen frowned. “No. That’s just the problem. The man tells me modern medicine cannot help him. He only mentioned his condition to me in private because he is concerned about the welfare of his patients. But he apparently intends to do nothing toward a possible cure. I thought since you—”
“But I understood he uses modern medicine in his own practice.”
“This is different,” Dr. Hardeen tol
d her. “If his traditional clients learned about the blindness, they would be most unsettled and might refuse to let him be their crystal gazer. It would appear that he had been witched, and they’d be afraid to trust him.”
“Witched.” Now that was really out of her realm of experience. “What can I do? What are the symptoms he’s experiencing, and do you know what’s causing the blindness?”
Dr. Hardeen shook his head. “He wouldn’t talk about it. I don’t even know if he’s been to a specialist, but we can’t let him go blind. Quite a few of his traditionalist patients up in the hills will only accept medical help from him. And the People must have access to his kind of medicine. They must. Anything less is unacceptable.
“Continue being his doctor,” Dr. Hardeen insisted. “Befriend him. Maybe get him to quietly accept a competent medical specialist who could find a cure.”
Dr. Hardeen threw out a few suggestions of what he thought might be a diagnosis with an offhanded wave of his wrist. She admired her boss greatly for being so dedicated and caring. But he must not comprehend what he was really asking her to do.
“I don’t think Ben will listen to me,” she hedged. “He hasn’t been particularly happy for me to be his attending.”
“Ah, but you are the only one he has let get close. That must mean something. Be creative. You’ll think of some way. He’ll need a follow-up examination for the head trauma in a few days, won’t he?”
“Yes, probably. But…”
“Well, there you go. That’ll be a good time to suddenly discover this other problem. In the meantime, be his friend. I’m convinced only a friend will be able to make him see the light and get some help.”
Tory couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less. Getting close to Ben made her mind go all fuzzy and her body react with unusual stirrings. But Dr. Hardeen was adamant and refused to take no for an answer. When he wound down, he quickly dismissed her from his office, saying he had another meeting to attend tonight.
She needed this job to pay off her loan, and she liked her boss and wanted to please him. Meddling in someone else’s medical problems seemed wrong, though, even if the reasons for it were right.
But every good reason aside, this was Ben they had been talking about. How could she manage?
“Dr. Sommer, may I talk to you a second?” The request came from over her shoulder as she hurried down the hall toward Ben’s room.
She turned and found herself staring into odd, blank eyes. “I’m afraid I’m running late, Russel. What is it?” Just her luck that nurse-practitioner Russel was in charge again this evening.
“It’s nearing sundown. Would you like me to find someone to drive home with you? Or are you planning to stay until morning again?”
“What is this big deal about the dark?” she asked irritably. “I don’t get it. It sounds like you’re all covering up a gang-related drug problem or something. Is it drive-by shootings that have everyone on edge?”
Russel moved closer to her and she had the urge to turn around and run. But she held her ground.
“There are worse things on the reservation at night than gangs, Doctor,” Russel whispered, and she had to move even closer to hear him. “Horrors so unimaginable that the People dare not speak of them.”
“Ghosts? Or the bogeyman?” she asked with a laugh. “Are you telling me that this whole don’t-be-out-alone-at-night thing is all based on superstition?”
Russel grabbed her elbow in a viselike grip. “Do not make fun of things you can’t understand. You might not have a chance for regrets.”
That did it. Tory jerked her arm away from him and took a step back. “This had better not be some kind of threat. Dr. Hardeen wouldn’t be pleased to hear about it.”
The nurse-practitioner’s black, slitty eyes widened. “No threat, ma’am.” He took two steps backward. “But remember that it was me who tried to warn you.” With the last word, Russel turned and rushed away down the corridor.
Tory mentally brushed herself off. What a pain in the ass. Dark or not, she intended to sign Ben’s discharge papers and then drive him home. Ghosts. How imaginative.
She straightened her shoulders and continued on her way to check Ben. Damned if she was going to let either Dr. Hardeen or crazy nurse Russel waylay her any longer.
4
“T here’s another one,” Tory said.
Ben turned in the passenger seat of her car and stared straight ahead. “Another what?” He’d expected to see something flashing in the headlights, but there was nothing—nothing but blacktop and the familiar semidesert landscape of juniper brush and sage that told him they were nearing his home.
He’d been daydreaming. Well…dusk dreaming, anyway, and he hardly ever let his imagination go like that.
But it was easy having flights of fancy about her. She’d worn her long blond hair down this evening, and he’d been having visions of her rising above him, naked in the sunshine. He saw her in his head, with a cerulean blue sky outlining her silhouette and that fine golden hair like fire, as the wind whipped it around.
His inner spirit had recognized her from the first time he’d seen those fantasy blue-gray eyes. Something about her. He’d known her. Had always known her. Throughout all time, perhaps.
But he realized those thoughts were just romantic nonsense. Though they were exactly the sort of thing that made him the most Navajo. He tried shoving them aside so his thinking would be clearer. The People were at war and any stranger was either the enemy or a bystander.
Either way, with her, he needed to forget the poetry and remain alert and focused.
“I think they must be wild animals of some sort,” Tory said, breaking into his thoughts. “The first time I saw one, I thought it was a dog. But if these things are dogs, they’re the scraggliest, wildest-looking dogs I’ve ever seen.”
Ben sat up farther in the seat. “Where are you seeing these animals? Not up ahead or I would’ve noticed.” His eyesight was worse than ever tonight, but still he certainly would’ve spotted animals in the road.
“In the rearview mirror.”
Damn. That was the answer he had dreaded. “Lock your door, Tory.”
“What? Why on earth…”
Ben reached around her and depressed the electric lock button that controlled every door. He heard the telltale click and took another breath. Her scent captured him, and he noted that even the musky smell of her seemed familiar.
“What is the matter with you?” she squeaked.
“The Dine have many legends and myths,” he began calmly. “The stories have served us well over the millennium. Some of them might seem far-fetched and steeped in superstition to someone like you who has never tried to live in community with the natural world. But…”
“No, don’t stop,” she urged. “Please. I’d like to hear what you have to say. Sometimes I feel that my patients would respect my advice more if I could communicate in a way that made sense for them. I’d like to know more about Navajo myths.”
Of course she would, Ben thought. It was what he would do if their situations were reversed. But would she be willing to open her mind to all the possibilities?
“Did it occur to you that it should be hard to see animals in the dusk with no lights and without the benefit of your headlights? What you’ve been seeing is a coyote,” he told her patiently. “The Dine have a long-standing love/hate relationship with the coyote. He’s supposed to be a trickster. He causes all sorts of trouble, but not with a mean spirit.”
Tory turned her head to glare at him. The look on her face told him she thought he had freaked out entirely.
He wished he didn’t have to tell her anything. Ben had hoped they could just drive to his hogan without incident. He would’ve thanked her, made sure she had a secret escort from the Brotherhood and then sent her home. Doing anything else with her or for her would put too much temptation in his path.
But now he had no choice.
“Tory, don’t take the things people on
the rez tell you too literally. Just let the words float past you. If you listen with an open mind, sometimes…”
Tory stepped on the brake. “The ideas seep right into your bones.” She finished his thought and turned to him. “That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
She nodded. “I knew it. I said those same words about gardening and nature to myself just this morning.”
“Then clear your head of city ideas and don’t prejudge anything. I assume what you’ve been seeing is the Navajo’s mythical ‘coyote’ and he’s come to issue a warning,” Ben told her in a quiet voice. “But we had better keep going. The longer we stay exposed, the darker it becomes and the more vulnerable we are to attack.”
“Attack? By whom?”
Ben shook his head. “Just drive, Doctor. We haven’t got a lot of time.”
Tory clamped down on the words that were itching to let loose from her mouth, put the car back into Drive and continued on down the highway. For several very good reasons, she needed to become closer to Ben. And not the least of those was her boss’s request.
So telling Ben what she really thought of his odd warnings and his fanciful story about a coyote was not a smart idea. The man wasn’t well. He had just survived a head trauma, and she knew he’d taken a painkiller right before they left the hospital.
It had probably been the drugs talking, anyway.
She kept her mouth shut and let him give her the complicated instructions toward his house. Glad she didn’t have to follow a map and that she had a local guide, Tory found herself going west on a series of dirt roads that seemed to take them higher and higher in elevation.
The farther they went the worse the roads grew, until finally most stretches were nothing more than ruts cut through boulders and loose sand. Potholes loomed ahead of them like deep black holes in the universe. She did her best to stay out of the deepest ones, concerned that Ben’s head injury would worsen with too many bumps and strains. And she was petrified that her ancient Volvo sedan would bottom out and they’d be stuck here for good.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 38
