The Tower of Il Serrohe (29 page)

On the other hand, maybe Nersite resembled someone Don had known in the past. Yes, there was something indefinably familiar about him.

Don realized he couldn’t agonize over this any longer and decided to get down to business.

“
Nersite, I need to see this Raquela of Piralltah Steeples again. I don’t think I got off on the right foot with her.”

Nersite looked puzzled. “What difference would any of your feet have to do with anything?”

“
Uh… well, that’s just a saying where I come from. It means I didn’t make a good impression. Somehow, I think it’s important that I do if I’m going to be of any help to you. Mind you, I’m no ‘Teresa the Tall One,’ but I’ll do what I can. I think the bat is still full of sh—uh, crazy, for thinking I can help, but since I now know more about what’s happened, maybe I can ask the right questions or bring a fresh perspective so you can help yourselves.”

“
You’re not making much sense, but Raquela is probably back at Piralltah Steeples. I’ll take you there, if you want. We can arrive before sunset.”

“
Let’s go—” Don looked around nervously. “That is, if you think our friend Sliktooth isn’t about.”

“
Naw, he was just scouting when you came along. We keep clear of the Crotalmin for obvious reasons, but they aren’t after our whole clan to make us slaves. They just have a taste for Nohmin flesh.”

“
God, that’s gross! Where I come from, we call that cannibalism.”

Nersite wrinkled his nose and squinted, trying to figure this out. “We just call it ‘life’ here. ‘The Way It Is.’ What can you do but deal with it and try to survive? With the Soreyes we’ve tried to avoid their slave cages and have mostly succeeded. Back in the old days, Teresa came to help, though in the end it was the Great Hundred Years Storm that spelled the first Tower’s doom…”

Don wanted to add what he had learned from the bat, but remembered it was a secret. He bit his lip deeply, anxious to share that story.

Nersite went on, not noticing Don’s restlessness. “Recently, we tried to knock down the new Tower because it’s a threat not only to all the Valle but to what makes life worth living for the clanspeople.”

“
So, anyway, why don’t we get started for Piralltah Steeples?”

As they went, Don seemed to convey a vow of silence, so Nersite kept his own counsel and the two hiked in silence. Don was thinking over and over,
What the hell can I do to help? What do I know?

Nersite thought about the stores in his root home that needed re-supplying, but right now it was more important to help Don. As they approached at sunset, the Steeples took on a crimson glow from the last rays of sun as if they were great bloody claws reaching for the dark blue sky.

Having sensed their approach, Raquela was already outside pretending to admire the sunset. Nersite grinned sheepishly. He could feel Raquela’s disdain for Don as he greeted her. “Good evening, healer. Our visitor has returned.”

She avoided eye contact with Don as she replied, “Yes, the bat dropped by and reported as much. It seems our visitor has had a change of heart.”

I’m right here,
Don thought.
Quit talking about me as if I were deaf or mentally incompetent.

She turned her sharp gaze directly into Don’s eyes as if reading his mind. “So I suppose you want to know more about how we think you can help?”

“
That’s about it. I’m not making any promises, but I had a chance to think this over and figure it’s about the only thing of any value I can contribute. My personal life has had some setbacks; and this’ll help distract me.”

Raquela responded coolly with an artificial smile. “Goodness knows we want to provide any distraction that might interest you.”

Don was used to this sort of treatment from women, so he took it in stride. “Yeah, whatever.” This pointless conversation gave him an opportunity to look over Raquela. He had thought he had a pretty good image of her in his head, but this time he noticed that the blackness of her large slanted eyes was almost devoid of any iris or pupil.

Weird. And there’s the same lack of sophistication I noticed in Nersite. These people are primitive, of course, but she certainly possesses an air of calm and intelligence. There is something alien, yet familiar that I can’t put my finger on. Have we met before?

Naturally, Don still thought she was attractive in an exotic way and her figure was nicely delineated by her body suit of that same tan with black guard hairs—obviously made of some sort of an animal fur.

Inside her cozy home, Don was surprised to find no furniture, only bulging cushions made of a mysterious fabric probably stuffed with feathers, straw, or some other natural material. On the walls were several striking hangings, which looked like they had been produced on a loom. The patterns were abstract splashes of earth tones following no discernible plan—almost as if someone merely continued to weave with a randomly selected color and texture of cord when the previous one ran out.

There was the pervasive scent of sage and clover coming from a pot of tea suspended over a mound of coals in the corner of the room (if ‘corner’ is an appropriate term for a room that was irregularly carved out of the tuff of the Steeples). Don sat down with some difficulty owing to the soreness from his recent bout with the Soreyes.

Nersite was concerned with Don’s little vocal expression of pain. “Are you OK?”

“
Oh just a little tussle I had earlier with the Soreyes. I don’t want to talk about it, and it’s nothing to worry about.” He knew Nersite was not aware of the Portal, and it was best to keep that to himself. At the same time, he noted Raquela’s knowing look. Apparently, the bat had made a full report.

Raquela looked Don over as if assessing his general health and mental well-being. “I think a warm bowl of stew is in order along with a good night’s sleep. Our discussion will need more time than you can afford right now. You need to rest and my little Nohmin friend’s eyes are already getting heavy due to the effect of my tea.”

“
I blended that very same mixture for you, Raquela, if you recall,” Nersite added proudly.

“
I remember; that is why I had it brewing.” She looked at Don as if there would be no further discussion.

At that point, Don had to agree, he was tired and a good night’s sleep without passing out would be welcome. After a quiet dinner, Nersite and Don were offered blankets resembling the hangings on her walls.

As Don mellowed out staring at the roughly corrugated ceiling of Raquela’s front room, he wondered what she could possibly say that might further persuade him to commit to this mission. Why would they be expecting anyone to step into this situation as if he were a version of ‘Teresa the Tall One’?

Well, it was still an interesting delusion and there seemed to be no pressing reason not to let it play out. He half expected to wake up in his Casita the next morning, back in reality for good.

But it was the sounds of a woman fixing warm cereal and the smells of fresh sage and clover tea that brought him out of a dreamless sleep.

So it continues. Now if she were only frying bacon.

fifty one

After breakfast the three stretched out on the cushions on Raquela’s floor to hear her appeal to Don.

“
I will tell this in the form of a story about Teresa that you have not heard. Nersite,” she said, turning to the sleepy Nohmin, “you will want to listen to this story a few more times so you can make it yours since you are the Nohmin storyteller.”

Her lighthearted manner went into a very serious mode. “I caution you, Nohmin, you must keep parts of this story to yourself, not even to share with Netheraire until the Soreyes are driven from this valley.”

“
Or
not
,” Don added with a smart-assed smile. “Sorry, I’m not hoping for that, but I’m not sure what anyone, including me, can do about them. Anyway, on with the story. I will add it to my own collection,” he said.

Raquela’s evaluation of Don being confirmed, she simply began.

“
According to Nightwing, the bat, your hearing of the story of Teresa’s role in the destruction of the Tower was interrupted. This part comes from my ancestors, who were descendents of Pia and Pita, and will conclude what you need to know. Nersite, this is the part you may not repeat until I say so—until I tell the clanspeople myself.”

Nersite nodded, now fully awake.
This
was going to be good.

“
Teresa visited her sisters a few days after the great Hundred Years Storm blew down the Tower. She swore them to secrecy about how they channeled the wind from her Rio Grande Valley to the Valle Abajo through the Portal—”

“
Isn’t the Portal a pathway?” Nersite asked.

“
It
’s much more than that.
It is how Teresa, Pia, Pita—and now Don—have moved from this valley to the ‘Other Valley.’ Their valley exists here, only we can’t see it. Uhm. It’s hard to explain. I don’t fully understand myself since I’ve never been through the Portal. But it’s not far off, yet we can’t get to it. Only those who are ‘special’ can make the journey. The Portal is nearby, you don’t need to know where, in fact, I don’t know exactly, myself.”

Nersite buried his face in his hands. “I don’t understand.”

“
Never mind,” Raquela said. “The point is we are never to speak of the Portal to others!” She took a deep breath and looked at Don raising her eyebrows as if to say,
“Be patient. He doesn’t need to understand. Let’s move on.”

Nersite peeked out over his fingers. “OK. Go on. I’ll keep quiet.”

“
Anyway, Teresa was glad her plan had worked and the Soreyes could nurse their wounds and leave the clanspeople alone… for generations, it turns out. Until now.

“
Meanwhile Teresa, within the next year, married Juan Chavez. He was more than ten years older than her and had established himself as a successful farmer after he took over his father’s property years earlier. He was handsome, gentle, and had always been protective of little thirteen-year-old Teresa when he had originally met her in church and a few months later at her father’s harvest dinner. Now entering adulthood, Teresa figured she could do worse and didn’t object when her father and mother ‘recommended’ him as a good prospective husband.

“
And though they made their home on the plaza in Peralta, she soon convinced her new husband they must purchase a ten acre field on the west side of the river.

“
Saying it was a holy place she explained that she had passed it on her way to visit a cousin the summer before and had had a vision of the Virgin Mary under the branches of an old cottonwood.”

Nersite couldn’t resist interrupting, “Who is the ‘Virgin Mary’?”

“
I don’t know. Some important person who lived ages before. Something like what the Ursimin believe… it’s too complicated to explain what I don’t understand.” She looked at Don, evidently expecting him to jump in, but he just sat there looking smug.

Raquela shrugged. “Not only that, she needed a one room house built there for her use as a retreat for meditation. Juan loved his wife and was in awe of her powers as a young curandera. Being of a wealthy family, and knowing the owner of Teresa’s ‘holy place,’ he arranged a trade of property he owned in Rio Luna for Teresa’s retreat.”

Again Nersite blurted, “Property? What’s that?”

Raquela’s voice became icy. “I asked you to listen. There will be a time for explanations later when you learn the story.” Her look bore through him like a well-shot Soreye arrow. He smiled sheepishly and nodded.

“
In the one room house, Teresa had a door-sized window built on the wall opposite the only outside door. She then had it boarded up and plastered over on the outside as if she had a sudden change of mind.

Don suddenly sucked in his breath.
The Casita! That’s why I passed into this valley from there—and the bat knew all about this. What a coincidence for me to end up there when Bess threw me out.
Don tried to hide this revelation, but Raquela noted the flaring of his nostrils and the widened pupils. She smiled faintly.

“
Pia and Pita had a similar hut built protecting their Portal. In a manner unclear to the clanspeople of all Valle Abajo, the place was declared off-limits and was not to be razed. Not being ones to question such things very much, the clanspeople left it alone.

“
Seasons passed beyond counting. Teresa intended the field with the cottonwood and the house would remain forever in her family, and as each of her children grew up, she would test him or her to see if they had inherited her powers, particularly the ability to visit Valle Abajo in their dreams and see Pia and Pita in Peralta as they visited her.

“
However, none had her power though two daughters did become curanderas. As her grandchildren were born, she again searched for one like herself. But there were none.