The Dove (Prophecy Series) (12 page)

Early sunlight glittered on the river that wound through the valley, and if Yuma squinted just right and let his imagination run free, he could pretend the shining river was the lights from the candles, counting off his years. He’d only had eight years of that life before it had all come to an end. He’d lived here almost twice as long, but the memory kept in his heart was of the home from his past.

This morning, the beauty of the sight before him was gut-wrenching, knowing that it would disappear beneath the fire of burning lava. He looked past the city to the mountain beyond and then pointed.

“When you look at the mountain, what do you see?”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

He took her by the hand and the moment they touched, she saw the top blow off the mountain, sending huge chunks of rock in all directions as a great cloud of ash began spreading across the sky. Below the cloud, a river of fire spilled out from the rim of the new crater, eating its way down the mountain toward Naaki Chava.

She yanked away from his grasp as if she’d been physically burned, then fell to her knees and covered her face. But the image was still there, seared into her mind. Even worse, it was the same vision she’d had, only she had not known it was Naaki Chava.

Yuma knelt beside her. “This is why the twins stay behind. They can’t save the city, but they can help save the people including Cayetano and Singing Bird.”

“What will happen to everyone? Where will they go?” Tyhen whispered.

“I think that is not for us to worry. We go one way before it happens. They will go another way in time to survive. Once everyone is safe, Adam said they will join us.”

She shook her head. “That’s impossible. They will never, never be able to find where we are.”

“He says they can. Remember they were not on the Last Walk with your mother, but they found her anyway. They’ll find us the same way they got here. What you need to know is all of this is not our concern. It can’t be. Do you understand?”

She lifted her head and stared down into the city, staying silent for so long Yuma didn’t know what to think, and then she turned to face him. When he saw that fierce expression on her face, he knew she would be okay.

“I am ready to go to Nantay’s.”

He pulled her to her feet, but when she started down the street alone, he let her go. She needed to pull herself together so he followed a couple of steps behind.

Tyhen was numb. She knew Yuma was behind her. She could hear his footsteps, but she wouldn’t look back, couldn’t look back and see the sympathy on his face. Even though she wasn’t leaving today, the cord had been cut from all she’d known. Pain would come, but not now. Not when everything for which she’d been born was at stake.

She looked out across the valley at the river and the houses to the jungle beyond, then up at the mountain behind it.

It was the enemy and it would prevail.

A bright green bird with a red breast and a long flowing tail flew across her line of sight. She could hear the shrill shriek of a child’s laughter and ached at the thought of what was to come. She wondered if the guards had escorted the trader, Izel, away from the city. She hoped he was gone. She didn’t want to look upon his face again.

About halfway down the hill, she began hearing drums. At first she thought it was a message from the Old Ones and then realized they were real. Their rhythm was her heartbeat, marking the stride of her steps, and when the drums beat faster, she lengthened her stride. When she began hearing the chanting, she knew they were singing her to them. The louder they sang, the faster she walked until finally she was running.

Yuma had been focusing on the dark fall of her hair and the gentle sway of her hips, so when the drumbeat began, it didn’t actually register until she began to run. Then it was like a slap in the face as the sound ripped through his senses, sending a cold chill up his spine.

He knew this! He’d heard this same drumming and the same chant when he was eight years old and waiting on the Navajo reservation for Layla Birdsong to come out of the desert. She came riding that dusty black motorcycle into their midst like a bat out of hell. They had drummed Layla to them, and now they were calling Tyhen. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but whatever it was, she wouldn’t face it alone.

He started running to catch up.

****

Singing Bird hadn’t slept well. She got up before sunrise and went down into Naaki Chava without her guards, and then out into the fields in the valley beyond, pulling weeds and thinning the overgrowth with the other women. It wasn’t something a chief’s wife would normally do, but there was too much of Layla Birdsong left in her to sit idly by while others toiled.

She was on her knees with sweat running down the middle of her back when she heard the first drumbeat. She stopped what she was doing and stood and then looked at the other women who were doing the same. It wasn’t a festival day and there was no more warring for the people of Naaki Chava. She wondered if someone was sick or dying. Was there a crisis of which she was unaware?

She wiped her hands on the sides of her shift and pushed the hair from her eyes as the drumming grew louder. She was debating with herself as to what she should do when she realized what she was hearing, and as she did, a cold chill ran up her spine. She’d heard that same drumbeat and the same chanting when she’d ridden Windwalker’s motorcycle up out of the canyons. She took a step forward, and then another when it hit her. They weren’t calling her. They were calling Tyhen!

Her mother’s heart wanted to run to her child, but there was nothing more she could give her daughter that would take her where she needed to go. There was only one thing she could do for Tyhen. She dropped to her knees and began to pray.

****

The drum held the rhythm; the singers’ words held the power, and the closer she got, the louder they sang. When she came around the corner of Johnston Nantay’s house and the people gathered there saw her, the drumbeat stopped so quickly she felt her heart stop with it. What followed as they erupted into one loud continuous war cry tore away the last vestiges of who she’d been.

She raised her arms into the air in a gesture of celebration as she strode toward the ceremonial fire, moving toward the elders with her head up and her shoulders back. In a way, they
were
going into war, but it would not be a battle with weapons. It would be a battle between the old ways and the new.

An old man who’d been seated around the fire stood up as she approached, and suddenly, Yuma’s voice was near her ear.

“That’s Wesley Two Bears. He’s Cherokee and one of the oldest to survive Firewalker.”

Tyhen nodded once to indicate she heard as she stopped before him. The old man was barefoot, wearing a loin cloth and a small silver ring on a strip of leather hanging around his neck. His skin was burned dark from the sun and his long, gray hair was in braids. His face was wreathed in lines born of pain and sorrow, and she felt like kneeling at his feet. He carried a pair of high-topped, lace-up moccasins in his hands as he approached her.

“We see you, Tyhen. We honor you. These moccasins were on the Last Walk. They ran from Firewalker. They will carry you on your journey as well.”

Tyhen was moved by the gesture, and as she touched them, she received a flash of the woman who’d been wearing them and knew it had been his wife who had died here in Naaki Chava.

“I am honored by your gift,” she said as he laid them in her arms.

He stepped back into the circle as she turned to speak to the gathered crowd. “You called me and I am here. You know what I have to do. Johnston Nantay says there are those among you who wish to leave with me. Is this so?”

The war cry that followed made the hair stand up on the backs of her arms. The passion of their intent was unmistakable, but she had to make sure they understood how deeply they were getting involved.

“It is very far and very dangerous. I cannot promise all of you will reach the final destination.”

Wesley Two Bears lifted his hand, and when her gaze shifted in his direction, he began to speak.

“We are the last of the people from before, and it is our fault Firewalker came. We did not provide properly for our young. We did not teach enough of them to be proud of their heritage and they lost their way. Even before Firewalker, many had already died from an unseen current in the river of their lives. If we die to make right what was wrong, it is a good way to die.”

Tyhen nodded. “Then it is good. Are there many of you?”

“These and more,” Two Bears said, waving his hand toward the gathering.

She blinked. This was well over half of what was left of the New Ones and it was turning into something she had not envisioned. She was trying to figure out how it would work when, once again, she heard Yuma’s voice.

“They have been preparing for years. It will be what it will be.”

She turned and saw the trust and faith in his steady gaze.

“What it will be,” she echoed softly and clasped his hand.

Johnston Nantay came out of the crowd. “We know what to do. Singing Bird has prepared us, just as she prepared you. We have weapons. We have clothing for different weather, for the cold and the rain and the snow. We have small tents in which to sleep along the way. We have maps we have been making that tell us where to walk all the way through this land. Once we cross into the land that was once known as North America, we will use what landmarks we can recognize to guide our steps, and if everything is strange and new, then we will still find our way. Our only wish is to follow you.”

Tyhen was shocked. All these years they’d lived here and she believed that they’d settled in, when in truth, like Yuma, they had been preparing to go home.

Another elder stood. “I ask you this, Tyhen. How will we find the tribes? They will be scattered to the four winds.”

“That is my task, and nothing for you to worry. All you need to know is that they will find us.”

Wesley Two Bears nodded. “This is good. We have talked among our people, and when we see the new tribes, each time some of us will stay behind with them, while the rest continue on with you. It is the only way to make this work.”

Tyhen glanced at Johnston. “Do they know about the stone tablet and what it means?”

“Yes.”

“Then you all know the urgency has increased?”

“Name the day and we will be ready,” Johnston said.

She was thinking of the mountain that would catch fire. The ones who chose not to go should be made aware of what they would be facing, but she had to talk to Cayetano first. It was his right to set the time for the people’s exit, just as it was for her to set the time for hers.

“It will be soon,” she said. “I don’t know what lies ahead, but Yuma and I are grateful to have you with us.”

Johnston Nantay raised his fist into the air and spoke loudly. “Today we will continue to sing to the Old Ones to guide our steps and protect us on the journey. Tomorrow we begin packing the things we will carry. When the Dove is ready, we will be ready, as well.”

“The Dove? Why do you call me this?” she asked.

“Because your quest is to make peace, and in our time, a dove was the symbol for peace.”

The name pleased her. “Then I accept the name. Will you show me what you’ve made?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

The drumbeat resumed. As they were walking away, Yuma looked back and saw the dancers. They would make powerful medicine on this night, and as much as he would have liked to be with them, his place was with Tyhen.

She walked without speaking, the moccasins clutched against her chest. When they passed the field where the baseball games were held, she looked away. Childhood was over.

Yuma had been walking and talking to Johnston, but he caught the look on her face as they passed the ball field and slowed down to walk with her, leaving Johnston to lead the way alone.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Tyhen looked up. “You want the truth?”

He nodded.

“I’m trying not to. The journey seems impossible and the weight of my responsibility is heavy.”

“But you won’t be alone.”

“It’s not the number of people who walk with me that will influence the tribes we meet. It’s me they will judge. If this fails, it’s me who will bear the guilt.”

“You won’t fail.”

“But how do you know?”

He rubbed his thumb along the scar on her wrist where she’d cut herself to save his life. “You have already worked magic. When the time comes, you will do what is needed to make the people believe.”

She was silent for a little while longer and then finally nodded. “I will dream tonight. Maybe the way will seem clearer.”

“We are here,” Johnston said as he stopped at the door to a long two-story building.

Tyhen eyed the building curiously as Johnston began opening the shutters on one side of the building.

“For light,” he said and led the way in.

Yuma had never been inside, and even though he knew most of what they’d been accumulating, he was surprised by the quantity.

Two rows of deep shelves lined the walls above cabinets. Some of the cabinets had doors, some were just open compartments, and every surface was covered and stacked two deep with a wide variety of goods and clothing.

“This is one of ten buildings we have built. These are tools to build better structures for the tribes to live in. We can show them how homes that do not move give them a stronger claim to the land.”

Tyhen frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The people of the plains lived in tepees made of long poles and animal skins. They could put them up and take them down at a moment’s notice for ease in traveling, but they followed their food source, rather than create one of their own. In the end, it left them vulnerable. Some people in the dryer parts of the land lived in small, round houses made of mud and grass and abandoned them when necessary. Others lived in caves carved into the side of mountains.”