She remembered the black and white needle–a quill Coco had called it–and touched her arm. There was nothing there, of course. Did he seriously think a needle was going to do something?
I’m so thirsty.
She slowly swung one leg over the side of the bed, then the other. They felt like lead. Probably tired from the climb along the cliff. She stood and wobbled for a second but then went into the bathroom and turned on the light.
Gods, it was bright! She flipped the switch off again, missing it the first time but using her whole hand the second. When had they started using nuclear bulbs in bathrooms? She turned back to the room and saw the tablet on the bed.
Yes, the tablet. She hadn’t gotten very far in her effort to understand it. What she did understand was that everybody seemed to want it.
Well that can’t happen. Not before I figure it out.
She picked it up, went to the door, and tugged it open. It was evening and the sun had nearly set.
Thank the gods for that!
But even the fading light hurt her eyes, so she shielded them. At least it wasn’t so hot out here.
CHAPTER TWENTY
DALE RIPPED OFF his goggles and bolted upright.
“Water?” said Leon as he offered the bottle.
“There’s no time.” Dale jumped up from his pallet.
“What?” Leon said.
“We’ve got to find her,” he said, frantically looking around. He grabbed his jacket and keys.
“Dale, slow down. Find who?”
“Olivia,” Dale said, putting on the jacket.
“What happened?” Leon asked, getting up.
“Celestino,” Dale hissed. “He used a porcupine quill. A quill! Out of nowhere, without a warning. Of course Olivia had no idea what it was. Not even Grandmother knew what kind of poison it was tipped with.”
He looked at Leon. “I need your help on this.”
Leon stood ready and nodded.
“Good,” Dale said. “You have the room number?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE SOUND OF children laughing was infectious. Livvy smiled at them, playing in the plaza under the summer sun. The Hopi ancestors seemed so content.
She wanted to be that content.
But something nagged at the back of her mind as she watched the kids run. The two in front of her held hands.
“I’m forgetting something,” she said.
What is it?
“Maybe this?” she heard someone call to her from across the plaza.
She looked up and instantly recognized him but had to blink.
“SK?” she said, though her voice shook. He held up his cell phone as he strode toward her.
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day,” he said.
“SK?” she said again, still not believing this.
She finally made her feet move.
SK paused to let a clump of kids run by in front of him but never took his eyes off her.
“I’m worried about you, Liv!”
She started to run. “SK!” she yelled.
Kids were swarming everywhere. She nearly collided with a wee one, then almost tripped, but she surged forward and around, dodging this way and that. He reached out his arms and, just then, Livvy realized what was happening. She stopped directly in front of him.
“Oh gods,” she said. “This is a dream, isn’t it?”
He lowered his arms. “Yes, it is,” he said, his smile fading a bit. “Even so, can’t I have a hug?”
Livvy sank to her knees, as much from the realization that this wasn’t real, as to equalize their heights.
As he slowly approached her, she realized he was wearing black silk pajamas.
“It is a dream, after all,” he said, a playful smile on his lips.
Then he stepped close and kissed her.
Livvy tensed. When they had kissed before, the results had been disastrous. She waited for the inevitable escalation of energy, the explosion that would send them both reeling–but it didn’t come.
Instead, there was only SK. As her surprise gave way to bewilderment, she became aware of his lips slowly exploring hers, the pressure gentle but insistent. He breathed in through his nose as his hands left her face. His fingers combed through her hair to settle on the nape of her neck. She felt tension drain from her shoulders.
In the real world, this couldn’t happen. The flow of energy and stability that came from him when they worked together was horribly reversed when they didn’t. In the physical world, the emotion and life force that flowed from her was out of control. He’d told her that her eyes had actually glowed before a crushing explosion left her unconscious and him lacerated by a broken window.
But that wasn’t happening now.
She kissed him back, suddenly afraid the moment would end. His breath was warm on her face and she felt the stubble of his chin on hers. In moments, her hands were on his back, feeling the taut muscles under the silk. Her heart was pounding and she realized she hadn’t breathed. Almost convulsively, she sucked in a breath to find he was doing the same. Their eyes met and she saw his were smiling. She drew back to bring his entire face into focus.
“I missed you,” they said together.
She laughed.
“Gods,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “I wish this wasn’t a dream.”
“Me too,” she said, nodding a little.
“But, as far as dreams go,” he said, “this one is–ouch.”
He let her go and backed up.
“This one is ouch?” she said, her hands still on his arms, unwilling to let him go.
He was looking down. A large spider scurried away.
“I think that spider bit my foot,” he said.
Suddenly, he looked at her and then around the plaza. “Liv, where are we?”
She shook her head. “We’re in a dream. We’re in the Multiverse. Well, I am.”
She had always been prone to vivid dreams. It was SK who’d told her that most shamans were. It was only recently those dreams had also taken her to the Multiverse.
“No,” said SK. “I mean, what is this place?”
Livvy looked around. The kids had disappeared.
“Oh no,” she heard SK say as she lost her grip on him.
He was staring at the ground.
“Liv, get up!”
She looked down. Her legs were covered with spiders as were his. She couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move her legs.
“Liv,” SK screamed, ignoring the spiders swarming up his torso. “Where are we?”
“It’s the Multiverse!”
“No,” he yelled, brushing the spiders from his neck. “Where are you? In the real world, where are you?”
The entire plaza was covered in spiders, like a black wave. They were swarming over the buildings, spreading and multiplying. She felt them on her hair and brushed frantically.
“Liv, where are you?” Panic tinged his voice.
“The Hopi Culture–” she got out, just before spiders entered her mouth.
“Open the door!” he yelled.
She couldn’t see him anymore as spiders forced her to close her eyes.
What door? SK?
“Olivia, open the door!”
She sat up so fast, she nearly tumbled out of bed. Frantically, she shoved spiders out of her face only to find there were no spiders.
There was pounding on the door.
“Open the door!”
What door? She squinted and covered her eyes in the glare of the hotel room. More pounding came from the door.
“Olivia, please, open the door!”
SK?
About to put her feet on the floor, she stopped and pulled them back. Were there spiders? She peered down, trying to bring the carpet into focus. No. No spiders. She stood up but the room spun and then tilted–but tilted her toward the door. She grabbed the handle to keep from hitting the floor. Now all she had to do was open it.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
SK BOLTED UPRIGHT. Frantically, he shoved spiders out of his face only to find there were no spiders. He fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand, found the switch, and turned it on. A glance at the bed proved what was already dawning on him. It had been a nightmare–not the first part of the dream but most definitely the second. He hated spiders.
He rubbed his face one last time just to be sure. Then he kicked off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. His silk pajamas were sticking to him.
It had been so real. He’d never understood how vivid Liv’s dreams could be. Not until now.
He went rigid.
“Wait a minute,” he muttered. He jumped to the floor.
It hadn’t been his dream. It had been hers.
He headed to the computer. He needed a map.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DALE POUNDED ON the door again.
“You’re gonna break your hand,” Leon said.
A couple rooms away, a door opened and a man in sweatpants and a t-shirt came out. “You wanna keep it down?” he said.
“Definitely,” said Leon. “He can’t keep it up.” He jerked his thumb toward Dale. “So we’ll have to keep it down.”
The man was already headed back into his room but paused. He shot a quizzical look at Leon, and then shut his door.
Gods, we don’t have time for this, thought Dale.
Then he heard the door handle and watched it turn back and forth. Finally, the door opened with a whoosh. Olivia stood there, glassy-eyed, wisps of platinum hair plastered to her forehead, her cheeks rosy and lips dry.
“SK?” she whispered, as she began to sway.
Dale grabbed her hand. It was slick.
“Leon, catch her!” he said, pushing the door aside.
Luckily, Leon had already begun to move. In one fluid motion, he reached behind her back, swept her legs up from behind, and stood holding her draped over his arms. Her eyes closed as her head lolled back.
“On the bed,” said Dale, letting the door close behind them.
As easily as if he were carrying a child, Leon walked over to the bed.
“Gently!” Dale said.
Leon rolled his eyes and then slowly lowered her as Dale positioned the pillow under her head. He put the back of his hand to her forehead. She was burning up. Grandmother had called it. The porcupine quill had been poisoned.
“It’s a shaman thing, right?” Leon asked. “So, no clinic.”
Dale nodded.
“They won’t be able to help her,” he said, his throat tense. “Not with this.”
Leon looked at him, waiting, glanced at the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Well then?” he asked.
Did Leon seriously think he’d simply be standing here if he thought he could help her in the Multiverse?
“Grandmother says ‘no’,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “She’s going to handle this herself.”
Leon's eyes got big but he didn’t say anything–just hooked his thumbs in the straps of his overalls.
Grandmother never interfered. Always glad to help when asked, she preferred to let things take their own course. Apparently this was going to be different.
Dale sat on the bed next to Olivia. He carefully picked up one of her hands, turned it over and felt her pulse. Rapid. The skin was warm and maybe a bit pink. But also soft. He lightly ran his fingers over the spot until Leon cleared his throat.
“I think we better get some ice,” Dale offered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CELESTINO HELD THE broken tablet fragment over his head and every face in the room turned up to look at it.
“Purification,” he said, the glow of the fire in front of him lighting his face. He shook the fragment for emphasis. “Purification.”
He’d developed this method of repeating things when he’d preached the prophecy in the Bible Belt. Believers sat up and took notice–mostly to shout him down. He was glad those days were over. Not because of the ridicule but because of what they had finally netted, the real reason he’d gone out on missions.
“The prophecy tells it.” He waved the fragment. “The tablet tells it.”
The men who sat cross-legged on the floor at the opposite end of the kiva nodded in agreement. They were at ease here, all of them. The semi-subterranean room was always dimly lit and comfortable but it was more than that. It was their spiritual center, their private gathering place, as it had been for shamans and kiva societies throughout the pueblo world for millennia. They conferred with one another here, set up altars, and made preparations for the ceremonies–important and necessary work. But, compared to the task in front of them, all that paled.
“The Fifth World is upon us,” Celestino declared, lowering his hand. “All the signs are there.”
Believers in the churches where he’d evangelized hadn’t cared the end was coming. They already knew that. The fact that it was coming for the fourth time–that’s what irked them. But this Fourth World had to end, along with all its corruption, so a Fifth World could begin–new, unblemished, and perfect. In that Fifth World, the Hopi would lead the way to peace and new prosperity.
And he would lead the Hopi.
“You have seen the signs with your own eyes,” he said, pacing to the left and out from behind the stone-lined fire pit. “Wars and weapons that can destroy entire nations. The late coming of spring and now the early onset of winter.” He stopped and reversed direction. “The strange plants that have grown.” He looked up to see one man nodding vigorously and spoke directly to him. “Plants for which there are no seeds. Plants that came from the Third World.” He gestured to the top of the ladder and the opening above it. “Soon, the Blue Star will make its appearance in the sky and the Blue Star Kachina will dance.” He stopped next to the fire pit, stooped to set down the fragment, and picked up the tablet. “We must be ready! We must be pure or we will surely suffer this.”
He held the jagged tablet with both hands and thrust it at them. Despite having seen it before, they actually leaned forward as a group for a better look. Celestino knew it by heart: The two “V” shapes at the top and bottom that represented plants; a crescent up in the left corner, which was a bow, laying on its side; the right corner, broken and missing; at the left edge, the friendship symbol of interlocked commas; near the bottom left corner, the squiggle line for the Snake Clan; and finally, in the center, the decapitated man, his head nowhere to be seen.
“And what about the lightning shaman?”
Celestino turned to face Franklin, sitting behind him, alone on the bench.
“Some might call her the white sister,” Franklin said, his strange eyes flicking back and forth.
If that was a challenge, thought Celestino, it was a feeble one at best. Tomorrow, Victor would simply take the tablet from her room because, by tomorrow, she’d be dead.
“Call her what you will,” Celestino scoffed. “The sorceress is of no concern now.” He turned back to the seated men. “I’ve seen to it personally.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LIVVY FOUND HERSELF lying on the ground in the plaza. She scrambled to her feet and checked herself, then shook out her hair.
“No spiders,” said Coco, who was sitting under a small lean-to. “Just me.”
She motioned to the ground next to her. “Come, sit,” she said. “Out of the sun.”
Livvy looked up to the sky. The sun was an enormous ball of yellow, directly over them. The faintest sound of thunder caused Livvy to look at the horizon. Her spirit helper was so far away.
That’s odd. Maybe I don’t need it right now?
She peered at the blazing orb again. Of course it was hot. It was the middle of the day, in the middle of summer.
“Wow,” Livvy said, as she wiped some sweat from her forehead. As she dropped her hand, though, she noticed it was trembling. In fact–she looked at both hands–they were shaking.
“Have a seat, dear,” Coco said.
“Coc
o, what’s happening?”
“You’re very ill, my child,” she said matter-of-factly. “Very ill indeed.”
Livvy remembered the quill and pulled up her sleeve. The skin there had taken on a deep red color and a large vein leading up her arm was red as well.
“That’s right,” Coco said. “A poison quill. We don’t know what substance Celestino used–probably the remains of a corpse.”
“A corpse?” Livvy said, hardly believing she was saying it. She sat heavily next to Coco and the shade was a relief, if only a small one.
“Oh yes,” Coco said. “More than likely. He doesn’t intend for you to survive this.”
Oh gods. The attack of a shaman in the Multiverse could be deadly. Livvy had already learned that. This spiritual attack would manifest in the real world. It was the fundamental reason shamans existed in the first place. But this … this poison, how could she combat it? She looked down at her arm again and stared.
“Can you help?” Livvy asked quietly.
Coco smiled for the first time. “That’s why I’m here.”
Livvy exhaled, relieved.
“I think you’d better hurry, though,” Coco said, patting Livvy’s knee. “I’ll be right here.”
Coco stood and Livvy followed her lead.
“Hurry? Hurry what?”
Coco nodded toward the horizon. Lightning danced just under the layer of clouds in the distance.
“You’re not coming?”
“Oh no,” Coco said, suddenly grave. “We don’t use vision quests here. Besides, it’s your vision. Your quest.”
Livvy blinked.
“But … but wait.” Livvy glanced toward the lightning. “I’ve already had my vision quest.”
Coco gave her a little wink. “I know.”
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 64
