Spirits Collide, page 13
part #2 of Evil Awakened Series
Pamoon smiled. “That’s the feisty girl I know. Come on.”
As they climbed the steep path, Pamoon noticed Celia relying more and more on her walking stick for support. Her friend’s breathing became fast and shallow, the higher they climbed. “Let’s stop and take a short break,” Pamoon said.
“No,” Celia huffed, “we need to reach the cave.”
The mountain air had grown icy, and Celia’s lips had turned blue from the cold. “Well, at least put your hat and jacket on.”
Celia nodded. She awkwardly shook off her pack, opened it and grabbed what she needed. It took longer than it should since she had to keep changing which hand she used to hold Pamoon’s while donning her jacket and hat. Each time she let go to switch hands, the thorns moved closer, and each time, Pamoon waved the Sword of Truth in their direction, forcing them to retreat from the path.
As they continued climbing, the trees began to speak. Burn us. Kill us. Free us.
“What was that?” Celia said, her words rapid.
Pamoon sensed her fear. “Those who have entered the woods, but didn’t belong are trapped in the trees. I’ve promised to help release them from their curse, but I haven’t figured out how.”
Buurrn uus!
This time, their words were more of a demand instead of a cry for help.
“No,” Pamoon answered back. “I will not kill you. I will find a way.”
Use your—
Pamoon turned to Celia. “Something keeps stopping them from speaking. I think it’s the evil in the mist. The trees are trying to tell me something, but they are stopped when they try. I know because it’s happened before. Come on, we need to move faster.”
Pamoon picked up her pace dragging Celia forward, even as the mountain grade increased. A couple of times, Celia stumbled, but Pamoon was able to keep her on her feet. “It won’t be much farther, I promise.”
A little while later, Pamoon spotted the clearing up ahead. She pointed with her sword. “There,” she said, “that clearing is where we’ll find the cave.”
Celia nodded, not having the strength to speak.
A few minutes later, they stood in the clearing, under the canopy of trees. There was still some green to the vegetation, but Pamoon noticed that more of the leaves were dead, more of the bark peeling away from the branches. There were fewer ravens to welcome her, and more vultures peering from behind the trees. She didn’t want Celia to notice, so she pulled her toward the vine-covered wall.
Sheathing her sword, she sprang her staff to its full length and brushed the brown, brittle vines aside, some of them breaking off and crumbling to the ground. Spotting the etching of the flame, she stood face-to-face with Celia. “When the flame on my palm covers the flame etched into that rock wall, you might feel an electric shock and what seems like an earthquake; whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand. Understand?”
Celia nodded, sweat running down her face.
“Okay,” Pamoon said, “here goes nothing.”
She placed her left palm on the etched flame and the world turned violent. The ground shook and cracked open in places, thunder and lightning ripped out of a darkened sky, and the burning that tore through her was worse than ever. She squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth against the pain as the electricity ripped through her arm, up into her neck. She also felt the burn run through her right arm and into Celia. She could hear her friend scream in agony and try to pull away.
Pamoon squeezed Celia’s hand harder, almost to the point of breaking her fingers. “Stop fighting!” she yelled.
“The pain!” Celia yelled back. “Make it stop.”
“I can’t. Just hold on.”
In what must have seemed like an eternity to Celia but in reality, lasted just minutes, the trembling as well as the pain stopped. Breathing a sigh of relief, Pamoon opened her eyes and saw the opening to the Spirit Cave. She looked at Celia, who was slack-jawed.
She knew Celia saw it, too.
Pamoon loosened her grip on Celia’s hand but didn’t let go. “Welcome to the Spirit World.”
31
Revelations
Pamoon followed Scout into the cave, never letting go of Celia’s hand until they were inside and the opening was gone. Looking around the cave, Pamoon noticed the petroglyphs and tapestries had changed. Stepping close to the fire, it blossomed filling the cave with light. Pamoon heard Celia’s footsteps on the rocky dirt as she came closer. The flame dulled as she neared.
“Step back for a second,” Pamoon said. When Celia did, the fire burned bright. “The eternal flame senses your blood.”
“My curse, you mean.” Sadness could be heard in Celia’s voice.
Pamoon turned and smiled at her friend. “Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here, to find a way to help you.”
Celia stepped forward, waving her arms. “But, what if we can’t?”
Again, the flames dimmed. Pamoon held Celia’s hand and led her away from the fire. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but I need those flames to light this cave, so I can read what it has to tell us. Do me a favor and stay near the walls until I do.”
Celia’s face fell. She looked like a child who was just told no one was coming to her birthday party. “Okay,” she breathed, her lips in a pout.
Pamoon didn’t have time to deal with a shattered ego, she just turned and started to read the petroglyphs. The first brought a smile to her face. It showed a shirtless warrior, hammering something in the middle of the woods. Ayas, she smiled. Stepping to the next, her smile faded. In this one, he was holding the hand of a beautiful girl—a woman—but beautiful none-the-less. “I wonder who she is?” she mouthed. The next etching really had her blood boiling. Here, she saw Ayas on his knees, hugging this gorgeous woman around the waist. “Hmf.”
She didn’t really want to look at the last etching, but she had to know how this story ended. When she stood in front of it, she fell back, a scream emoting from her throat.
“Are you okay!” Celia yelled.
Pamoon nodded and waved her away. “I’m fine, just a little freaked out.” Steadying her nerves, Pamoon stepped up to the wall. In this etching, the once beautiful woman was hideous. Her lips moved but the words got caught in her throat, “The ghost-witch.” Pamoon blinked the image from her mind and turned her attention to Ayas. He too had changed. Instead of looking like he was in love, his body language was rigid, his hands balled into fists. Who is this woman? And what does or did she mean to Ayas?
Pamoon couldn’t linger on the question, she came here for answers, and so far, found none. Moving to the other side of the cave, she set her sight on another series of petroglyphs. In the first etching were the ghost-witches. Because it was just a two-dimensional carving, it was hard to tell, but it looked like there were hundreds, if not thousands of them lining one side of a valley, and standing with them, the Pukwudgie. The little pixies appeared malevolent. What she had imagined as friendly little fairies, were pointy-eared, drooling savages looking to kill anything or anyone who stood in their way. Just looking at them made her quake.
In the next etching were other women, but these women sort of looked like owls. These are the women I saw in my dream. They were lined up on the other side of the valley, and next to them, the Kowi Anukasha and other tribal little people. Kwanokasha stood in front of them all. Her eyes drifted back to the owl-women, and Kwanokasha’s words reverberated in her psyche. Those who should be fighting alongside each other will battle each other. “I need to find these owl-witches and convince them to fight with us,” she mouthed.
Wasting no more time, she moved to the next panel. This image was familiar; she saw Ayas and the ghost-witch standing in the middle of the field, but in this etching, there was nothing but hate in their expressions.
Pamoon expected the story to continue but that was the last petroglyph.
Moving to the tapestries, there were two. The first one was the wendigo. The beast was hiding behind a building in a city. It showed him tearing into a hunk of meat, disgust in his eyes. She tried to place her palm on the tapestry to talk to him like before, but nothing happened. I need to talk to him.
Her eyes drifted to the second and her body relaxed. She saw Kise standing on the mount, but as she eyed the image, it morphed. Kise was no longer alone. She and Celia’s alter-ego, the piasa, were standing next to her. Again, Kwanokasha’s words came to mind. A curse is just one side of a coin, on the other is a gift. She wasn’t sure what the tapestry was trying to tell her or what The Watcher’s words meant, but she knew where to find the answers.
“Celia,” she called out, “come here.”
With Celia standing next to her, she reached for and took her hand.
“Why am I—that thing—standing on a cliff?” Celia said, staring at the tapestry.
“Only one way to find out,” Pamoon answered. “Whatever you do—”
“I know, don’t let go of your hand.”
Pamoon nodded, commanded Scout to go through the tapestry, and then before Celia could utter a word, she jumped through, Celia in tow.
32
A New Reality
Pamoon stood at the back of the mount and cut her glance at Celia, whose mouth was agape. “Come on,” Pamoon said, “let me introduce you to The Creator.”
Pamoon pulled Celia forward, feeling her friend’s apprehension. “It will be okay,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to fear, Celia,” Kise said, her back to the girls, staring out over the mount.
As Pamoon and Celia moved closer, Kise turned in their direction. Pamoon was surprised at Kise’s expression, her lips curling downward, crow’s feet lining her eyes.
“What is it?” Pamoon said. “What has you worried?”
“We’ll discuss that momentarily, first introduce me to your friend.”
Pamoon made the appropriate introductions, Kise wrapping Celia in a hug. “You’ve made a brave decision, my child. One most wouldn’t or couldn’t have made. To walk the path of righteousness is a difficult one for any human, but for you it was even harder.” Kise swept her arm out over the Spirit World. “Welcome to what may become your destiny.”
“My destiny? The Spirit Mount?”
Kise released her and smiled. “Like Pamoon, your path to the mount will be a difficult one, but yes, it is possible.”
“How?” Celia asked.
“You must learn to harness the beast within and use it for good.”
Pamoon watched the interaction between the two, but her attention quickly moved to Scout who stood at the edge of the mount, whimpering. She went to him and sucked in a deep breath. The valley and mountains were wrapped in a ring of mist. “How can this be?”
Kise stood next to her. “Now, you understand my trepidation. The evil in the Misty Woods grows stronger. The strength of this world is keeping it at bay, but it will not be able to hold much longer.”
“The etching on the cave wall showing the ghost-witch in the mist. Is she the cause of this?”
“One. The war for control of the mount is edging closer in time. The side of evil is a strong force. One whose combatants outnumber ours.”
“How can I change the odds?”
“You have learned to use your fire, but now you must become fire.”
“What?”
Kise ignored her and turned to Celia. “Child, I need you to do something I would never ask if times were different. I need you to reach deep within yourself and conjure up your demon.”
“What? No. I mean, even if I could, I don’t ever want to be that thing—that dragon—again.”
Kise placed her hand on Celia’s shoulder. “Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.”
Pamoon watched Celia look at Kise. A halo of bright light appeared to cover Celia. To Pamoon, it looked like some sort of protective shield. “I see truth and love,” Celia answered, “I see someone who would never hurt me.”
Kise nodded. “Then do as I ask.”
“How?”
“The piasa, or dragon as you call it, is part of you, you just need to call it forth.”
“Will I become,” Celia stuttered, “will I become a monster?”
“Physically. The rest depends on your heart. Once you transform, you must fight the thoughts that will come with the beast. Michi-Pichoux, the Water Panther, will be in your head. The demon will try to control your mind. Fight it with what’s in your heart.” Celia trembled at Kise’s words, but as she felt the Creator’s grasp tighten, she felt a sense of peace. “If I didn’t think you were strong enough to do so,” Kise added, “I wouldn’t ask this of you.”
Celia nodded. Her eyes welling up.
“Close your eyes and do as I say,” Kise said. Celia closed them and waited. “Reach deep into the recesses of your mind and picture the piasa. Once you have the image, call it forth. Not with words but with emotion.”
Celia pictured the scaled dragon. Demon, come. Nothing happened. Demon, I command you! Show yourself. She felt something dark emerge from beyond the depths of her body. As it grew, so did her fear.
“Don’t let it feel your fear,” she heard Kise say. “Control it.”
Celia balled her hands into fists, grimaced, and matched its anger with her own. As the image of the piasa grew, she shook off her fear. You belong to me, not the other way around. Show yourself and do as I command.
Celia’s skin started to burn as the piasa materialized. Her bones broke as they lengthened, her muscles tore as they strengthened. The pain was worse than anything she could ever imagine. Her body tore itself apart, transforming into the creature. She opened her mouth to scream, but shut it and gritted her teeth. She refused to show the beast her pain or weakness.
As her agony subsided, she opened her eyes, looked at Pamoon, and hissed. In response, Pamoon drew her sword.
“Stand down, Kiche.” Kise said. “Put your weapon away.”
Pamoon did as she was told. The piasa gouged the rock with her taloned feet, her forked-tongue swept from her mouth, her blood-red eyes emitting hate.
“Control the piasa, Celia,” Kise said. “I know you have it in you.”
Somewhere deep inside the piasa, Celia heard Kise’s words. These are your friends. You will not harm them, she commanded.
The piasa stopped hissing and stood motionless. Kise walked in front of the beast, placing her hand on its snout. “Good girl.” The touch of the Creator brought a warmth to the creature, one it had never felt. “You do not belong to the Netherworld or the one who rules the darkness.”
Yes, you do. You’re a mindless creature made to do my bidding.
The thoughts of the Water Panther vibrated deep within the creature, weakening its psyche, but Kise’s touch helped quell her fear, helped strengthen its resolve.
“Look around you, Celia,” Kise said. “Look at those who stand with you on this mount.” She pointed to Pamoon and Scout. “These are the ones who will stand beside you in bad times. These are the ones born to protect you. Do you wish them harm?”
The piasa went to shake its head, but again, the panther spoke. Kill them while you have the chance. They’ll never expect it with Kisemanito there. Bring up your fire and burn them. Burn them, now!
Celia could feel her breath—the piasa’s breath—getting hot as it tossed its head up and down. She could feel flames beginning to boil deep in her throat. Her mouth closed, her head tossing to and fro, smoke billowed from her nostrils. Her eyes burned a scorching red.
But as she was about to open her mouth and do her master’s bidding, she looked upon those she was to kill. Kise still looked at her with love. Scout wagged his tail. And Pamoon, the girl who never gave up hope in her, drew no weapon. She just stood, her hands by her side, defenseless. No, Celia commanded the beast. These are your friends, your allies. We will fight by their side and defeat the ones who try to cage us, those who lie and deceit.
She felt her throat cool as the fire regressed. From deep within the piasa, she felt the beast calm itself. Good girl.
Kise again stood in front of her and petted her snout. “It’s time you and Pamoon learned to work as one. Are you ready?”
The piasa tossed its head, answering yes.
“And you, Pamoon?”
“I’m ready to do whatever it takes. I’m ready to fight side-by-side with Celia, not matter what shape she takes.”
“Well,” Kise smiled, “I’m afraid you won’t be able to fight side-by-side.”
“Huh?” Pamoon uttered.
“You must learn to ride the piasa and fight as one. Inseparable. You must train until your commands to each other become so seamless, they are unspoken.” Kise looked back at Pamoon and waved her forward. “Let’s start by getting to know one another. Pet her and let her know you mean her no harm.”
As Pamoon raised her hand, Celia threw her head back and hissed. Kise took Pamoon’s hand in hers and gently rubbed the creature’s snout. “Talk to her as you would Celia, they are one in the same.”
Pamoon swallowed the lump in her throat. “Celia,” She said, her voice cracking, “I am your closest friend. I would never do anything to hurt you or the piasa. We’ll get through this together, just like everything else we’ve been through since we were little girls. Remember what Kwanokasha said. He told us that a curse was just one side of the coin. That the other was a gift. Your spirit identity, the piasa, is your gift.”
Her words calmed the beast. Its head stroked her cheek, and Pamoon felt its love.
“Good,” Kise said. “Now I need you to mount the piasa as you would a horse.”
Pamoon, keeping her hand on the piasa as all times, walked to its side. In response, the beast lowered itself allowing Pamoon the ability to climb on. As Pamoon straddled the piasa she watched Kise untie a long strip of leather that had been wrapped around her waist. She took it and gently placed it on the beast’s snout. As she wound it around its snout, she spoke, letting the beast know her intentions. “This strap will be your halter, it will be the means for Pamoon to control your direction and movements. Don’t fight or fear it, it is so you can be one with your rider.”
