“By all the gods!” she exhaled, as she kept one hand on the cliff face and concentrated on moving as far into the small cave as she could.
It wasn’t as far away from the edge as she would have liked but, at the back, she closed her eyes and bent over, holding her hip. She hadn’t realized she was breathing so hard. She heard the loose pellets of the rattle as Tawa apparently tucked it into his kilt. Then there was silence. She opened her eyes.
Some sort of “welcome” or “well done” would have been good but she couldn’t imagine why she would have expected one. Tawa was already pointing at something at the back of the cave.
The wear of time and the elements had produced something that looked like a sandstone drapery. Some of the dark folds looked as though they might run back into the rock quite a ways. She looked up. The channels ran for several feet into the top of the cave and beyond. Could rain runoff have carved them? Tawa was pointing at one in particular.
Livvy inched by him in the confined space. He was already turned sideways which was good since she didn’t think she’d be able to get by his head. They slowly swapped places until she was standing in front of what appeared to be a chute. It was pitch black inside.
She looked back at Tawa who made a motion with his hand as though he were reaching down inside something.
“Put my hand down there?”
He pointed.
“What if there’s an animal in there?”
She glanced at the dark hole but held her hands in front of her.
“Like a snake.”
He pointed again.
Right. This was Tawa–one of the pushier deities of the Multiverse.
She tried to peer down into the chute but it was useless.
As if the death defying descent along the cliff hadn’t been enough.
Well, she hadn’t made that trip for nothing. She took a deep breath. Cautiously, she reached toward the hole. She watched as her hand passed over the rim then gradually went down inside. As it disappeared, she held her breath. Then she frowned. There was nothing. Only emptiness. She slowly moved her hand further down. At this rate, she’d be up to her shoulder soon.
She jumped as her fingers brushed against something. Even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything, she peered into the hole. What was that?
Using the tips of her fingers, she felt back and forth. It moved a little and felt soft, like cloth. She pinched a little between index finger and thumb and gently tugged. It came up easily for the first couple of inches then stopped. Had she reached the end of some loose cloth, maybe a t-shirt or something? She pulled again. It wouldn’t move. Was it stuck? Maybe it was heavy.
Careful not to lose contact, she gathered more material into her hand, slowly contracting her fingers. She got a firmer grip and pulled up again. It wasn’t budging.
This time, instead of just pulling with her fingers, she used her shoulder and then her back and legs. It was stuck tight but the cloth didn’t seem to be ripping. She strained to the point where her fingers started to ache. Then, on an impulse, she backed off, lowered her hand back down, and gave it a sharp tug. A small brown bundle came flying out of the chute.
Before it could fall back in, Livvy snatched it with both hands and pivoted on her heel to put herself between the bundle and the hole.
Like a performer, she held it out with a grin. “Tah dah!” she exclaimed–to no one.
Tawa was gone.
Naturally.
Why would he stay to see something that was so important she had to trespass and risk falling off a cliff? As she stared at the vacant ledge, she realized why she was here. Tawa’s presence in the real world was tenuous at best and always brief. He had needed her to get the tablet and he would have stayed if he could.
All right, then, what is so important?
The light brown bundle was heavier than it looked and it wasn’t wrapped in cloth. Livvy brushed off a thick layer of fine dirt to reveal a partially unraveled piece of leather. Thick, fibrous twine held the covering in place around something that was vaguely the shape of an average paperback book.
Was it a diary?
Livvy knelt, laid the bundle on the ground, and untied the coarse knot. It came undone easily. Maybe as it was meant to, she thought. As though opening the petals of a flower, she picked up the corners of the soft leather and laid them to the side. What lay there in the center wasn’t a diary or even a book. Livvy stared down at a small stone tablet.
“No,” she groaned.
It was the last thing she wanted to see. Celestino had told her about it. Dale had asked her for it. And she had sworn to them both she had nothing to do with it. But here it was.
Well, she had no intention of getting into the middle of whatever was going on. She glanced behind her at the hole where it had lain for who knows how long.
I took it out, I can put it back.
Except, it wasn’t up to her and she knew it. It was up to Tawa. She knew what he could be like until he got his way. He’d never leave her alone.
Okay, then. Give it to someone. People obviously wanted it. But to who? Was there such a thing as a village chief?
She’d find out.
Only when she started to wrap it back up did she see the carvings. There were faint markings on the face of it. She picked it up and held it at an angle to the light. Yes. They weren’t scratches. It wasn’t random.
In the center was a stick person, something a child might have drawn. One hand was held up and a zig-zag line extended upward from it. Livvy stared at it–hard.
Is that a lightning bolt?
She brought the tablet closer. The zig-zag line ran up to the top of the tablet and then stopped where it met some semi-circles.
Clouds?
The other hand of the stick person extended down. The markings there were faint. Again, she tilted it to the light. It was more difficult to make out. Maybe being near the edge meant it had been handled more.
There–for a moment, the light had been exactly right. She slowly tilted it back. It was another stick figure.
Livvy froze as a shudder rippled down her spine.
The second person was smaller and the two were holding hands.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LIVVY FLEW THROUGH the hotel room door, tossed the tablet on the bed, and went to her suitcase. If that was a lightning shaman and a dwarf on the stone tablet, she needed to know. And there was only one person she knew who could tell her.
Rummaging to no avail, she began tossing clothes on the bed. Then she upended the suitcase.
“Where are my goggles?”
Tawa was up to something. Of that she was fairly certain. He always had his own agenda. Even so, had he meant her to find something that would help her to be with SK?
Her goggles tumbled down the mound of belongings. She grabbed them before they reached the bed.
Only a few hours ago she’d been ready to leave–pay her respects to Coco and hopefully find her phone. But Tawa had changed all that.
“As usual,” she muttered.
Her heart beat wildly as she shoved her clothes aside and thumbed the power switch on. The goggles came humming to life. She lay on the bed, put them on, and picked up the stone tablet.
She was breathing too hard. She forced herself to close her eyes even though the symbols of the Multiverse had already started to stream into view.
Be calm. Relax. Focus.
She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes.
For thousands of years, shamans throughout the world had used these same symbols to mark their journeys to the spiritual plane. They cycled in front of her seemingly just out of arm’s reach. Spirals and handprints, checkerboards and crisscrossed lines, all swam into view and then out. Vibrant and warm hues suffused them–deep oranges and reds.
Livvy unfocused her eyes. Took another deep breath.
The cycling grew faster and soon the symbols morphed into one another, nearly indistinguishable. They blurred into a glo
wing sphere that grew larger as Livvy approached. On the other side was the Multiverse. She stepped through.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IN THE UNDERWORLD, Livvy stepped into the plaza and stopped. She had half-hoped that using the goggles would put her into more familiar surroundings. Apparently that wasn’t going to be the case. The village was quiet this time. A big yellow moon was beginning to rise over the rooftops of the nearby homes. The cool breeze was soft.
“Back so soon?” said a voice behind her.
Livvy whirled to see Coco sitting at the edge of the plaza. She set down a small bowl and placed a paintbrush across its rim.
“Coco?” Livvy said.
Before, she’d assumed she could see Coco the way any patient could see their shaman in the Multiverse. But now, she was no longer a patient nor were her goggles networked.
“What are you doing here?” Livvy asked.
“I could ask you the same,” Coco said, getting up.
She dusted off the back of her dress and adjusted the sash at her waist.
“I mean, how is it that I see you?” Livvy asked.
“We’re both in the Underworld,” Coco said, as though it were obvious.
In L.A., Livvy had defied centuries of shaman prohibitions by networking goggles. She had also learned that a vodun technique could be used to track a person in the Multiverse. But vodun wasn’t practiced on the mesas. Livvy shook her head.
“I mean, where I come from, shamans don’t see each other in the Multiverse, not unless they do something extraordinary.”
“Exactly,” Coco said. “Where you come from.”
But all the taboos, the struggle to network the goggles, the risk.
“Wait,” Livvy said. “If I’d brought other shamans here with me, we’d all be able to see each other?”
“Oh, no,” Coco said, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t say that. This is how it is with my people. We work together. We learned long ago it takes more than one finger to lift even a pebble.”
She nodded at Livvy. “You’re different,” she said. “But you know that. You’re the lightning shaman. You can be places others can’t.” She gestured toward Livvy and the village with both hands as if to point out the obvious.
“My people have been here for thousands of years,” Coco continued. “We are connected to our place and each other in ways that others are not. Beyond the mesas what you say is true–shamans together means competition and conflict. Here, at the center of the universe, things are different.”
That was for sure, Livvy thought. Very different. Although networking goggles had worked to save the Multiverse from chaos, it had also led to conflict, just as Coco said. Livvy thought of her hip.
“Just remember,” Coco continued, “that, here, even you will play by our rules. Now, tell me, why have you come?”
Rules? But Coco was waiting for an answer.
“I’m looking for Tawa,” Livvy said.
At that, Coco’s face screwed up. Livvy had been about to continue but paused. It was as though she’d said a bad word.
“Him,” Coco said. “What in the worlds would you want with him?”
Livvy held out the tablet. “He needs to explain this,” she said.
Coco barely spared it a look. “Oh, that,” she said, as she sat back down and picked up the brush and bowl.
It wasn’t quite the reaction Livvy had expected, given how much everybody else was interested in it. In fact, she had the distinct feeling she might have irritated Coco.
“Also,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for healing my hip and for the crystal.”
To her right, someone moved in her peripheral vision. It was Dale. Livvy took a step back as he pushed away from the wall of a building.
“Is that how you found the tablet?” he asked. “With the crystal of many colors?”
“You,” Livvy said.
A sudden crack of thunder punctuated the vehemence in her voice as she reached toward the sky.
“There’s no need for that,” he said calmly, still approaching, hands in pockets. “I know who you are.”
“Then you know I’ll defend myself,” she said, keeping her hand up.
He stepped into the plaza. He was completely at ease, moving slowly but with the grace of a dancer, placing one foot in front of the other. As he passed Coco, he gave a short bow.
“Grandmother,” he said.
Grandmother? They were related?
Coco smiled pleasantly at him and inclined her head slightly.
He continued his elegant procession, hypnotic to watch. In the tiny house at Walpi, she hadn’t gotten a good look at him. She realized, with a shock, he was handsome. The jeans and turtleneck sweater didn’t hide his athletic build. Though his lips were full, it was his eyes that were riveting. They glinted a bright hazel over the high cheekbones.
He flashed a smile.
He’s good looking and he knows it.
Movement behind him caught Livvy’s attention. A bobcat was following in his footsteps. As it passed Coco, it looked at her and nodded.
“Tokotsi,” she said to it.
“My spirit helper,” Dale said.
He was only several paces away.
“That’s close enough,” Livvy warned.
He stopped and Tokotsi sinuously wound around the bottom of his legs while keeping an eye on her.
“We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” said Dale, putting a hand to his chest. “And I apologize.”
“Yeah, I’d call abduction the wrong foot,” Livvy replied.
“The last thing I’d want to do is upset you,” he glanced at the clouds above as they obscured the moon. “And not because of your spirit helper.”
He paused then and gazed into her eyes as though he were willing her to see into his.
“I do believe you’re even more beautiful in the Underworld.”
Livvy blinked at the change in conversation.
“Liar,” she heard someone shout from behind.
She turned but also sidestepped to keep Dale and his spirit helper in sight.
“Why am I not surprised?” Celestino said, glaring at her.
The man from last night. He wore a thick flat chain of silver and a deep red crystal, in the shape of a cube. He’s a shaman as well. Was there anybody here who wasn’t?
He pointed at the tablet. “You have no right to that,” he said.
“Don’t give it to him,” warned Dale, whose easy stance had become guarded.
“Don’t listen to him,” said Celestino, jutting his chin out at Dale. “Isn’t he the one who tried to kidnap you? Force the information from you?”
Livvy looked between the two.
“I’m the one who came looking for you in the middle of the night,” Celestino said, pointing at his chest. “I’m the one who helped you back to your car.”
“Look,” said Livvy, holding up the tablet. “I’m going to make this easy for both of you.” All eyes were riveted to the stone. “I’m not giving it to anybody.”
“You have no right to it,” screamed Celestino. “It belongs to the Hopi.”
“He’s right,” said Dale, stepping closer to her. “It does belong to the Hopi.”
“Of course it does,” she replied, backing up. “I didn’t say I was going to keep it. Just let me finish.”
“I must have that tablet,” screamed Celestino, as a coyote trotted into view.
Was that the animal she had seen following her on the tour? Was it Celestino’s spirit helper? Then how could it–
“Run,” Dale said under his breath.
“What?” she said, just as the coyote suddenly veered toward her.
“I said run!” he yelled.
Although Dale tried to tackle it, the coyote easily dodged him. Then the bobcat leapt at it but the coyote jumped, impossibly high, soaring into the air. It was almost on top of Livvy when she reacted. Its bared fangs snapped down on air as Livvy side-stepped at the speed of lightning. The plaza blurred ar
ound her and she skidded to a halt on the opposite side and spun around.
Dale was still looking at the place she had just been, his mouth open a bit, but Celestino was bringing out something from behind his back.
Livvy raised a hand to the sky. “Lightning,” she said.
As though it had been waiting, the bolt immediately landed with a crash on her hand and a shower of sparks poured down from her open palm.
Both spirit helpers froze but Celestino was undeterred. He whipped his hand around his waist as though he was throwing a disc, but Livvy didn’t see anything there.
“Quills!” yelled Coco, from somewhere behind her.
“Blast them!” Dale shouted.
Then she saw them–like a diffuse cloud that blossomed and darkened between her and Celestino. They looked like striped, black and white, knitting needles, sailing directly at her.
Needles?
A lightning strike would be overkill–and Celestino would be directly in its path. She dropped her arm and the lightning immediately receded back into the clouds.
“Whirlwind,” she said, reaching her other hand to the sky.
A funnel cloud descended and its furious wind worked right away. Only a few feet from her, the array of needles slowed, vibrated, and then stilled. In the next instant, they zoomed upward into the waiting cavity of the funnel. Livvy dropped her hand. The whirlwind promptly disappeared into the dark and turbulent clouds.
“Don’t move,” said Coco, her voice loud in the sudden silence. She was staring at Livvy’s arm.
Livvy looked down. A single black and white needle protruded through the blouse at her forearm. She hadn’t felt a thing. How odd. She cocked her head at it. How had a single needle escaped the whirlwind?
As if sensing her puzzlement, Dale said, “He threw it with his other hand. Don’t–”
Livvy reached down and plucked it out.
“No!” screamed Dale, lunging for her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IN THE REAL world, Livvy laid on the bed for several seconds before taking off the goggles. They were heavy. She let them slip from her grasp as she sat up. The back of her shirt was soaked with sweat, as usual after a journey to the Multiverse, but in her haste, she’d neglected to set a bottle of water on the nightstand.
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 63
