CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DALE PLACED A new bag of ice behind Olivia’s neck.
“Maybe we should open the door,” Leon suggested. “Let some cold air in.”
Dale shook his head. “The room is already more than cool enough. It’d be too much of an additional strain on her system. We need to keep her brain from overheating, more than anything.”
Dale picked up the hand cloth with the ice in it and ran it across her forehead. Under the lids, her eyes were moving back and forth at a furious rate.
“She’s in the Underworld now, isn’t she?” Leon asked.
Dale only nodded.
He moved the cloth down the sides of her face and the front of her throat. Then he wiped away the sweat that had pooled in the dip between her collar bones.
“And no idea how long it will take,” Leon said.
Dale shook his head.
“It’s impossible to tell. You know how it is. Time here and there, they’re not the same.”
Leon had watched over enough of Dale’s healings to know that much. “It better not take too long,” he said. “She doesn’t look too good.”
Dale took a piece of ice from the bucket and lightly brushed it against the length of Olivia’s upper lip and then the lower. Just enough melted to moisten them and then he put it in the cloth and wiped her forehead again.
“I’ll get some more ice,” Leon said, taking the bucket.
Dale heard the door open and close. He picked up her hand and held it to his cheek. “Come on, Olivia. Come on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LIVVY’S VISION QUEST had come on suddenly in her first visit to the Multiverse. Her spirit helper had appeared immediately and been with her ever since. It had taken some time to figure out how to use the lightning and clouds but she had eventually mastered it. Although she had used goggles to make that visit, she knew that in many cultures a young person simply fasted and journeyed into the wilderness to establish that first connection to the spirit world. Though not as common, a shaman would sometimes receive their calling and their spirit helper in the depths of a life threatening illness.
“I really am sick, then,” Livvy said, looking down at her trembling hands.
Coco nodded. “The sooner you begin, the sooner it’s over.”
She picked up a dark blue, leather pouch that was at the bottom of the lean-to and opened it for Livvy to see inside. Several rolls of something wafer thin were nested there. They reminded Livvy of the seaweed sheets used to make sushi rolls.
“Piki,” Coco said, as she cinched the top closed. She took the leather string and tied it to a loop at the waist of Livvy’s jeans. “Blue corn meal,” she said, as she stood. “It’s not for you but you’ll be needing it.”
Livvy looked back to the horizon and the play of light within the clouds. When performing healings for clients, it was always her spirit helper that guided her. She knew where she needed to go.
“Nuvatukyaovi, The Place of Snow at the Very Top,” Coco said. “There, the water is pure.”
Livvy felt Coco touch her arm and looked down.
“The water is cleansing,” Coco said, as her finger traced the course of the red vein. “You need to drink it before this reaches here.” She lightly put her finger down on Livvy’s chest, over her heart.
Livvy looked up to Coco’s face. It held concern but also an encouraging smile.
“You’re on your own for this and I know you can do it,” she said. “Just remember that it’s only in death that we’re born.”
Livvy stared at her.
Death?
“I don’t understand,” Livvy began but Coco cut her off.
“Get in, get done…” she said.
“Get out,” finished Livvy automatically.
One of the oldest maxims of shamanism. Staying too long in the Multiverse was never a good idea. It was too easy to get lost and never leave.
Coco pointedly looked at Livvy’s trembling hands and then at the mountains in the distance.
Livvy lifted her gaze to the horizon. Then, she took a deep breath and, without looking back, she surged forward.
The streets and homes of the pueblo gave way to the scrub of the surrounding desert and, as the elevation increased, the landscape began to change. In only minutes, she came to a stop, breathing hard. She was in a clearing, in the midst of a pine forest. The sky above was thick with dark clouds that streamed off to her right.
Whatever this vision quest entailed, it would be in that direction. But it would have to wait; she needed a rest. She stood for several seconds, hands on hips, breathing deeply. She held up her hands–still trembling. In fact, trembling more. She checked the sky as thunder pealed, traveling through the clouds as it trailed off, in the direction of the cloud flow. Her spirit helper was trying to guide her.
“I know,” she said, still breathing hard. “I just need a second.”
Something moved in the forest to her left.
She turned to look and caught of glimpse of something. Was it white? It was hard to tell with the patches of snow on the ground. If something had been there, it must have been moving fast because it was gone.
A crunching sound came from her right.
She whirled in that direction and the crunching grew louder. Then a rattling noise joined it–a sound that seemed familiar. Where had she heard it before? It was rhythmic and growing louder. There was a movement in the dense trees. Whatever was approaching was closer than she’d thought, obscured by the thick green branches.
She tensed and checked the clouds above. There was a clear line of sight. Calling down lightning wouldn’t bring a hail of tree limbs.
The crunching and rattling noise in the trees grew louder. The branches shook violently as pine needles dislodged and fell to the ground. A large hand pushed them aside as a figure came into view. It hadn’t been crunching she’d heard. It had been chomping.
The long, blunt snout of the black creature opened and closed, snapping shut with enormous force, the snaggled teeth barely fitting together. Livvy backed up a pace as it entered the clearing. Where the ears should have been, two black horns protruded and curled upward. Instead of hair, there was a ruffle of small feathers at the top of its head from which long and pointed ones spread out like a giant fan. The black and white eyes bulged nearly free of the sockets.
Aside from its hideous head, though, this creature appeared to be a man. He wore a black velvet shirt, white jeans, red moccasins, and a silver concho belt. In one hand he held a bow and in the other–a saw? He must have seen her looking at it because he took it now and scraped the ground in front of him, left to right. As he did, he stomped one foot, then the other, setting the turtle shells strapped to his knees rattling. That was the sound she had recognized–like the deer-hoof rattlers Tawa wore. This was a kachina. His saw skipped along the forest floor with a metallic clanging that was oddly musical and grating at the same time.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” said the kachina, its impossible mouth moving in rhythm to the raspy voice. “Very, very bad.”
A bad girl? What was that supposed to mean?
He dragged the saw in the opposite direction.
“I’m going to enjoy eating you,” he rasped and then emphasized the point with a giant chomp of the snout that was so loud it made Livvy jump.
Livvy glanced up to the sky and raised her hand.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself? Is there no one to speak in your defense?”
Livvy paused.
“In defense of what?” she asked, still ready to call down lightning.
“Of summoning your mother from the dead,” he said.
She froze and stared at the mouth, not believing what had come out of it.
“Of course we know,” he said. “Your first vision quest.” He took a step closer. “The lightning was wild.” He gestured with the bow. “It struck your mother while she sat near you. You woke to find her dead.”
Livvy felt every
fiber of every muscle in her body constrict. She ought to run. She ought to call down lightning. But all she could do was listen, riveted to the story she knew all too well.
“So you summoned her spirit into the Multiverse,” he said, taking another step. “You did the unbelievable. You did the unspeakable.”
He took another step. The turtle shells rattled and scraped against each other. A twig snapped under the moccasin.
“Didn’t you?” he screamed.
“Yes!” Livvy blurted out reflexively, lowering her hand.
Yes, she had done it. It had been obsession. It had been guilt. It had been–
“Very bad,” rasped the kachina.
Livvy waited, staring at his eyes, his mouth. Did he know the rest? The horrific truth of lightning shamans that her mother had passed on? That Livvy would recognize the next lightning shaman and that she’d die the way her mother had?
“You’re too big to eat in one bite,” he said. Then he dangled the saw in front of him and waggled it with a metal warbling. “But not to worry.”
As though a spell had been broken, Livvy finally moved.
She started to raise her hand and felt a crushing thud against her back and head. Arms thrust forward from behind her and pulled tight. Over the top of her head, she saw a muzzle protruding and looked up behind her.
It was another kachina, exactly like the first, except it was white.
“Hurry,” he rasped, in an identical voice. “I’m hungry.”
Arms pinned to her sides, Livvy thrashed. She needed at least one hand free to call down lightning, or a whirlwind, or anything. She pulled and squirmed, tried to grab at something that might help.
The black kachina moved toward her. “First bite is mine,” he said. “I’m hungry too.”
He slowly raised the saw and Livvy glimpsed the reflection of her own body as it passed by. At her hip, she saw the blue pouch from Coco, then her blouse, and finally her own terrified face. She felt the small pricks of the saw’s teeth as it came to rest on her neck.
“Wait!” she screamed. “Wait! I have piki!”
The white jaws above her chomped loudly and she closed her eyes.
“Please!” she tried again. “I have piki?”
The saw lifted from her neck and she opened her eyes.
“Where?” said the white one.
“It’s in the pouch,” Livvy said, still unable to move her arms.
The black one grabbed the small sack and yanked, snapping the leather string as if it were a thread. He opened it.
“Mmm,” he said. “Piki.”
The white one released her.
She quickly stepped away from them and put a hand to her neck. It stung and was bleeding but at least the saw hadn’t crossed the jugular.
She realized the two kachinas were watching her. They stood side by side, perfectly matched, except for the color of their heads. There was no more stomping or chomping but they still barred her way.
What now?
The black one, still grasping his bow, saw, and the pouch, put his fists on his hips. The white one did the same. They cocked their heads at her.
Finally, it occurred to Livvy what they wanted. She took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For what I did. It was wrong.”
“Very,” they said.
“Yes,” she agreed, looking down. “Very.”
She heard the turtle shells rattling and looked up to see them leaving. They stalked off, single file, into the forest. In moments they had disappeared. And though she couldn’t see them, she distinctly heard the sound of their saws pinging along the ground.
She looked at the blood on her trembling hand again. Then she saw the red vein and pulled back the sleeve. It was past her elbow now. Above, the clouds streamed away, leading her up the mountain. She sped off in that direction.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DALE GENTLY RAN the small towel of ice around the side of Olivia’s face and was about to wipe down her neck when he saw them.
“What the…”
He leaned down closer.
Tiny beads of blood.
“What the…” he couldn’t help repeating.
“What?” said Leon, getting up from the chair.
Dale dabbed ever so lightly with the towel, looked at it, and then showed it to Leon.
“Blood,” he said.
Several tiny red spots, evenly spaced and all in a row, were now on the towel.
“Where did that come from?” Leon said, frowning at it.
Dale looked back to Livvy’s neck and was about to point but it was … gone. He scowled and bent down low. The skin of her neck was unmarked. No blood, no cuts, no scabs. Not a mark of any kind. He touched the skin lightly.
“From here,” he whispered. “Except…”
Leon stooped down for a closer look.
“Except there’s nothing here,” Dale said.
They both looked at the towel in Dale’s clenched hand.
“What’s happening?” Leon asked.
Dale shook his head. “I don’t know, Leon. I really don’t. But I can’t imagine it’s good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
IN SECONDS, LIVVY was surrounded by mist and had to slow down. The trees were thick and she could only see several paces in front of her. The great pines sailed upward, disappearing in the swirling white air. The clouds were no longer visible. This direction had been the right one until a few seconds ago and Livvy hoped it still was. The ground had become steep and rocky. She paused and looked down at her hands. The trembling had worsened.
A wild shriek came from upslope. She jerked her head up and stared into the mist. There was only swirling grey.
Great. No doubt that’s my cue.
She climbed the loose scree, leaning forward and trying to take steps from one rock outcropping to another so as not to slip backwards. Off to her left, something white flashed in her peripheral vision. She stopped and looked, afraid it might be that white kachina again, but the woods were empty. Nothing there moved. She took one more look downslope and then resumed her climb. Suddenly, the ground leveled off and Livvy found herself at the front edge of an enormous rock shelf. She took a step back down and peered over the lip as a great bellowing erupted from the being that waited there. Livvy had no doubt this was a kachina, but not like Tawa or the ones below.
He wore a white kilt with a black and red design that ran down the right side–and that was all he wore. He stamped his bare feet.
“Coward!” he screamed at her, though she couldn’t see how he was articulating the words.
His thin but protruding lips snapped open and closed like castanets. His giant white teeth ground against each other unevenly.
“Coward! Show yourself!”
He pointed at her with what looked like a flexible, green stick. “You!”
Even though long red hair streamed down over his face, he had no trouble seeing her since his eyes protruded forward, through the hair. Judging from their size, he saw her very well.
She climbed the last few steps to the ledge and stood level with him.
He snapped his mouth open and closed with a clapping sound and whipped his head left and right. Great turquoise horns on either side revolved so quickly they blurred. Then he stopped.
“Come for a whipping have you?” he screamed.
He waved the green stick at her, then slashed it through the air like it was a fencing rapier. It flexed into a wicked curve and made a whistling sound as it swirled the mist.
“Come!” he screamed. “Come closer!”
Livvy realized, then, he couldn’t come to her. Only one tree still stood on the ledge, in the very middle of it, and the kachina was tied to it with a heavy rope that circled his waist. In fact, looking at the ground, Livvy could see she was a few feet outside his reach. In a perfect circle determined by the length of the rope, the ground was bare. Not a tree, not a shrub, not a rock, or pine needle was left. She also realized the circ
le blocked the only path up the mountain. To either side of it were steep drop-offs like the one she’d just climbed. On the far side of the circle, the ground welled upward, steep but climbable, and disappeared into the forest.
Suddenly, he charged her. Livvy half-crouched, ready to dodge sideways since she couldn’t move backward for fear of tumbling down the slope. To her surprise, he moved nearly as fast as she did. He screamed as he charged, head down, his feet raising dust. As expected though, the rope wasn’t long enough. He all but jackknifed as he reached its end. His scream was strangled off but, with perfect timing, he grasped the green stick at its very end and whipped it. Livvy realized too late it was longer than it looked and tried to twist away.
With a loud snapping sound, the tip of it caught her in the ribs. She heard the sound of fabric ripping and felt a painful burning sensation as she slid sideways, off-balance. As the kachina rebounded away from her, she caught her foot on something and tripped. At the edge of the circle, the ground was strewn with branches, pine cones, and fractured rocks. Clutching her side, she rolled with the fall and pushed right back up into a crouch, breathing heavily and wincing.
“The yucca whip purifies!” the kachina screamed. “It–”
He stopped and looked at the ground to Livvy’s left. There, where she had slipped and tumbled, the circle was no longer perfect. Chunks of dirt, twigs, and rocks had spilled into it. He ran to it as Livvy backed away to the right, sensing that whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good. She withdrew her hand from her side to find it trembling but also covered in blood. She looked upslope.
How am I going to get there?
As he reached the end of his tether, the kachina fell down on hands and knees and reached out. As quickly as he could scoop it up, he shoveled everything into his mouth. Now Livvy understood what the giant teeth were for. He chewed and ground up everything, even the rocks. In no time, the area within his reach was spotless. Then, as though he just remembered she was there, he swiveled his face toward her. If he could have grinned, Livvy thought, he would have. Instead, he trotted lightly back to the tree, the yucca whip bouncing in his hand, then he turned and crouched. He was going to make another run.
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 65
