New West (11 page)

“Come. We’re frying bread.”

“I could eat. I have some trade goods.” Well, his mare had some attached to her saddle. “My-his name is Jesse. Is he still—I mean…”

“He is. They’re cleaning his wounds. It’s painful. Come eat so you can comfort him, after.”

At least Jess was still alive. He’d been so still when Ezrah and Eddie had brought him in. Ezrah followed on shaky legs.

The scent of fry bread was enough to make a man cry, and his belly snarled again. Alla chuckled, handing him a plate with bread and honey.

“I can tell you’ve been worried about your lover and not eating, huh?” she said, watching him devour the bread.

“It seemed plumb evil to eat, knowing he couldn’t.” Every time they called Jesse his lover it shocked him less.

“Well, you will need your strength. Eat up. We have plenty this season, despite the shaking.”

“Your place didn’t fall.” He didn’t understand.

“We built where the ancestors built. This one has remained.”

Ezrah shook his head. “I guess I listened too much to the old stories. Said y’all were all nomads.”

“The tribes come and go; we stay. This place is sacred, outside of time.”

“It feels like it.” He wasn’t lying. The place hummed with power, buried deep in the ground.

She nodded, dark hair swaying. “It’s in the walls themselves.”

“It is.” He glanced at his empty hands, surprised the bread was gone.

“Come and sit for a bit? Your feet must hurt.”

He looked at his feet, too. His boots were a little shredded. “I. Yeah. Thank you.” He’d fallen off his horse and hit his head. That was the only explanation. Would Jess die if he didn’t wake up?

She took his hand and eased him down onto a pile of blankets, which felt like heaven. He had to be imagining this, including the cool, clear water she pushed into his hand, the cup made from a gourd.

“I can see why Jess loves y’all. I can’t thank you enough, no matter what happens.”

She offered him a warm smile. “Rest. I’ll get you soon.”

“Thanks.” Ezrah sipped his water before leaning his head back against the wall and wiggling his toes. Had he taken his boots off?

The sounds of drums started, and his eyes closed, all on their own accord, the beat pulling him inside. His heart started to thrum with the same rhythm.

“Jess.” He whispered the name as he sank, the world going all fuzzy on the edges.

Chapter Fourteen

“Ezrah.” Jesse looked around, a little lost. He was wandering in darkness, and everything seemed weird. He’d heard Ez, though, saying his name, so he called out again. “Ez?”

“Hey, baby.” He could hear Ezrah from a distance, coming closer.

“Ez? Are you in here? It’s really dark.” Really.

“It is.” Ezrah’s presence settled around him, solid and warm. “I’m here. I think. I might have slipped and hit my head.”

“No. On what?” Ez laughed.

“It must be nighttime. I mean, you can’t go in the Flow, love, so we can’t be there.” He had to be dreaming.

“It was day when we came. This place is kinda magical, though.” Ez chuckled with him, and it felt so right.

“Where are we? Last thing I remember is when Emmett came to see me.” He did remember that, clear as day, how Emmett made him promise to stay with Ez. He reached out, searching for Ezrah’s hand.

“That was awhile back I reckon.” He felt Ezrah’s hand, even though it seemed hollow and ghostly. “Not too long, but enough. We’re with the Diné now.”

“Oh? They’re good to me. They’ll be good to you.” He frowned. “You think I’m dying?”

“No.” Firm and strong, Ez sounded sure for the first time since Jesse had met up with him after Em had died. “You promised.”

“I did.” The laugh that left him sounded dry as dust. “I wonder where everyone else is.”

“Hiding, just like their pueblo did. Bright as noon in hell out there, and I couldn’t see it, even from across on the other ridge. It’s creepy.”

“It must be a sacred place. That’s why they wander, love, so the sacred places stand.”

“What does that mean?” He thought he felt Ezrah’s lips move next to his ear.

“That’s what they pay, for the pueblos to stand. I never thought I’d see one.” Well, he hadn’t seen one. He couldn’t see shit.

“I never heard that before, but I guess you’d know, huh?” Ez was sounding a little skeptical.

“I guess I do. You live in a different world, Ez, one where everything makes sense.” His world was more fluid.

“Not anymore, Jess.” Ez swallowed hard, the sound like a door closing. “Not now. You’re sick, and Em’s gone, and Denver is just a myth. Cyrus is taking the herd to Kansas City, and I don’t know if I even believe that city is there. Everything is gone. How did you do it, baby? When they took your family then ran you off?”

He shook his head. How had he done it? He’d smoked from the pipe, eaten every mushroom someone would give him and danced with the Diné until his mind left his body. He ran with the coyotes, with the roadrunners, then he fell in with a tiny group of skeletal wild-eyed Grounders who promised to show him more. It wasn’t long before he let a man with an auger, no teeth, and one eye drop him into the Flow deeper than any needle attached to a cable could do. “I don’t know, Ez. I just floated until I found my feet.”

“I feel like a newborn fool. I always thought I was the strong one, Jess, that I could handle anything. Now I just jibber.” Ezrah’s laugh was almost true.

“You are my North Star, Ez. I need you. I need to know you’re real.” More than he needed air.

“That’s a damned honor, baby. I’m right here. We just need to fix you.”

“Yeah. My skin feels…wrong.” As if he were wearing a mask.

“You got all burned and cut in the dirt, baby. They cleaned you up today, but I guess there’s a lot left to do.” Ez held his hand and it seemed more solid. Tighter.

“You gon’ stand with me, even if I’m all scarred and ugly?” He grinned as he said it. Lord knew his Ez wasn’t much on vanity. Never had been even if he could be, with those sloe-eyes and glossy dark hair.

“I don’t give a shit if you’re bald and yowling like a cat, Jess. I want you with me.”

He laughed again, and it felt as if the joy were swelling inside him, as if it were a huge bubble pressing at his rib cage. Ezrah was nothing if not loyal.

“I do kinda hope parts of you still work, Jess.” Ezrah’s laughter turned to something intimate. “I haven’t had enough time with those.”

“Those parts are important. I can’t see being close to you and them not working, love.”

“No? Good deal. I always wondered. Before you left. And after I saw you when I touched myself.” Listen to Ez, all brave about it in the dark.

“I never let someone touch me, my real self, but you. Ever.” He hadn’t even been sure that was possible.

“Same here, baby.” Ez moved, the air flowing around them.

“Ez.” He followed, wanting to touch, to feel.

“Can we? I’m afraid to touch you, baby. You’re hurt.” Ez drew away, the warmth leaving him. Itching. Aching.

“Ez! Ez, don’t leave me in here! It’s dark!”

“I’m not leaving, Jess. I won’t hurt you, though.” Ez settled back near him, but not near enough. He wanted to crawl into Ezrah’s skin.

“I’ve never been scared of the dark before.”

“No need to be now, baby. I’m right here.’ Ezrah seemed to be gaining strength every moment they were there, and Jesse felt it everywhere, easing his fears.

He sighed and leaned in hard, his breath flowing, coming slower in his chest. Jesse hiccupped a little when Ezrah touched him again, seemingly all around him.

“Ez.” He closed his eyes, and it didn’t matter because it was that dark.

“I got you, baby. Rest now. They say they’re going to come get me to do a healing ceremony.”

“Okay. Don’t leave me in here alone. I promised I’d stay with you.” It was hard to breathe, to focus.

“I won’t. I’m right with you.” Ez hummed for him, some old church song he almost remembered.

Underneath it there were drums.

* * * *

Ezrah heard the drums, and he opened his eyes, his head feeling weird and enormous. God, how long had he slept?

Was Jesse okay? He’d dreamed he’d held his lover, dreamed he’d touched Jesse’s cheek.

“He’s not alone, is he?” Ez didn’t know if anyone was even there, but he’d said he wouldn’t leave Jess alone.

“Your lover? He’s with the shamans. He is very ill. The fever rages.” It was Eddie, with more water.

“I told him I’d stay with him.” He listened to his bones creak when he tried to rise.

“I’ll take you to him. Have a drink. Water.”

“Thank you.” He drank the water, which made his head clear up some. “Now, Jesse. Please. I need to see him.”

He appreciated the hospitality and all, but he was done.

“Come this way.” Eddie hauled him the rest of the way up.

“Thank you.” He felt stronger, every step he took. Jesse was going to be better. He knew it. It would take time, healing, but it would happen.

The room Jess lay in was dark, cool, and smelled a bit like incense. Ez sank down next to Jesse’s pallet, looking at all the new wrappings. “Oh, baby.”

There was blood on the bandages, but the smell was gone, that awful, sour scent. That had to be a good thing right? Ez knew enough to know that was rot, that smell.

Jesse didn’t answer him, didn’t even twitch.

Ezrah sighed, wishing Jess would talk to him as easily awake as he did asleep.

“The cleansing, it was difficult for him.” The low voice belonged to the biggest man Ezrah had ever seen. Massive, with hands the size of hams, skin the color of teak and eyes like a bird’s, he seemed to appear from the corner of the room, filling all the available space.

He actually leaned back, the man seemed so enormous. “Is he—no. He’s going to be all right, though.”

Jesse had to be all right. Had to be.

“He is not strong enough to survive this alone.”

“Good thing he’s not alone.” He wasn’t leaving Jess by himself. Ez was going to see this through.

He held Jesse’s hand. “How bad is it? Did he lose his ear?”

“No. No, his connection…the magic piece? It is…” The big man opened his hand, the little port mangled and burned black, the wires scraggled as dead tree limbs. That had been inside Jesse’s head.

Inside.

Near his brain.

Ezrah stared. It was a fucking wonder Jess was still alive and occasionally coherent. “His brain still works, though?”

“He hasn’t woken up, not at all.”

Ezrah wanted to argue, but he’d been asleep when he and Jess had talked. Who knew? It might have been a dream. “I’ve heard him talk out loud. He thought he was speaking to my brother.”

“Your brother is in the spirit world with him?”

“He’s dead.” He said it flatly, not sure he believed in spirits.

The big man’s head tilted, one eyebrow lifting. “And he came to the
Hathaali’
and not you?”

“Jess said my twin, Emmett, made him promise not to leave me alone.” Ezrah shrugged, trying not to look as if he were about to lose his shit, which he was.

“Oh-ho!” The man spoke as if he’d just said something amazing, a broad smile splitting his huge face.

“What does that mean?” He clenched his hands so tight into fists his blunt nails cut into his palms.

“That means your man may live after all.” The big guy grinned at him. “You are one soul in two bodies, ne?”

“One soul.” He pondered that. “Emmett and I sure were. Twins.” Ez winced. “He left me.”

“That is a pain which is deep, but there is room for you to hold your
Hathaali’s
soul, keep him close. He wanders. You, he finds.”

“Whatever he needs.” The whole thing was a little mumbo-jumbo to him. “You just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Somewhere in the back of his head he heard Jess, calling to him. “Ez? Ez, it’s dark in here.”

He spun around, stared at Jess, then back at the big guy. “Did you hear that?”

“No. There was nothing.”

“Ez? Ez, where are you?”

“I can hear him!” He reached out, his hands hovering over that poor, burned body. “Jess. You have to wake up.”

“Ez. Ez, I can hear you.”

He’d never once heard something without using his ears, and it was maddening, making him shake his head. The sound of Jesse’s voice echoed in his skull, bouncing and buzzing.

The shaman touched him, anchoring him to the real world. “I will help you bring him back, but you must go find him.”

“He’s right here.”

“Ez! Ez, I think… Something’s weird in here!”

“Where do you think you are?” He closed his eyes, not sure whether to talk out loud or what.

“I-this isn’t the Flow, but I’m not alone. I can’t see you, man. Please.” Jesse began to shake, shudder violently.

“Jess.” His eyes popped open, and he gave up worrying about hurting that poor, sore body. He put his hands on Jesse’s chest. “I’m here.”

“I can’t see you. Where are you? It’s dark.”

The panic pushed against his brain, and he stared at the big shaman dude. “What the fuck is your name?”

“Zill. I am called Zill.”

“Does it mean gigantic?”

The huge man laughed. “Strong.”

“It suits you. Where are we?” He had no idea what to tell Jess.

“We’re in the pueblo. In a sacred place.” Another cup, this one steaming and leaving off foul odors was handed him. “So you can find him.”

Ez tried hard not to gag, looking at the heavy, oily looking brew. “Okay. I can do this.” He took a deep breath and swallowed half of the noxious potion.

It burned, all the way down, and he fought the urge to throw it up, his entire body rejecting it. Jesse’s voice got louder, though, roaring in his ears. His vision narrowed until it was a pinpoint, then nothing.

“Jess.” His voice sounded torn, as if the tea had ripped his vocal chords.

“Ez? Ez, please.” Jesse was everywhere, panicked, hurting, angry, scared, but the man was there, inside him, beside him, throughout him. “What is going on?”

“You have to come back to the real world with me, Jess. You got rattled with the shakes.” That was the best way he could think to put it.