Spirits Collide, page 14
part #2 of Evil Awakened Series
The beast nodded once as Kise finished wrapping it and handed the reins to Pamoon.
“Now what?” Pamoon asked, taking hold of the ends.
“Now you learn to fly as one.” With her final word, she gave a gentle slap to the piasa’s butt. “Fly.”
The piasa stood to its full height of ten feet and spread its wings. Pamoon felt the piasa bend its long legs, reading itself for flight. She gripped the reins tighter and squeezed her thighs. With a flick of the reins, the piasa pushed off, taking flight from the mount.
Pamoon felt the wind in her hair as they dove from the cliff top. She pulled up on the reins, lifting the piasa’s head. The beast arched its back, flying skyward.
As they flew around the valley, each learned from the other. Pamoon studied the piasa’s nonverbal responses as she moved the reins from one side to the other. With each movement, the piasa responded by flying in that direction. Growing comfortable with each other, Pamoon leaned forward and whispered in its ear. “I’m going to draw my weapons, one at a time. I mean you no harm, I just need to learn to control them as we ride.” The piasa huffed and nodded. “Good girl,” Pamoon said, holding both reins in one hand, drawing her knife with the other.
They flew through the valleys and mountains that made up this part of Spirit Realm, Pamoon practicing swiping the knife through the air as she learned to control the reins with one hand. “I’m going to bring you closer to the trees so I can try to cut while we’re in flight.” Again, the piasa nodded. Using the reins, Pamoon directed the beast toward the tree tops.
Close enough that she could reach out and grab them, Pamoon swiped at the smaller branches. The drag of the blade as it cut through them was enough for Pamoon to have to readjust her position for balance. When she did, she inadvertently pulled back on the reins, causing the piasa to fly higher. The quick movement of the beast caused Pamoon to lose her balance. She squeezed tighter with her thighs to readjust her seat, but that caused the piasa to fly faster. “Whoa,” Pamoon yelled, trying to regain her control. The paisa immediately slowed its speed.
There is so much to learn and so little time, Pamoon thought. In response to her thinking, the piasa flicked its head. Pamoon’s eyes widened. You can hear my thoughts? Another flick. Pamoon smiled. Okay then, let’s learn together. Pamoon loosened her grip with her legs and turned the creature back toward the trees. This time, she was ready for the drag and leaned forward as she swiped her blade. Her change of position improved her balance. She cut through a branch as if it wasn’t there. Wow, this blade is sharp. They repeated the task over and over until it became second nature to both.
I’m going to put the knife away and use my staff. The piasa didn’t respond, but Pamoon knew it understood. She fisted her staff, pulling it from her belt and pressed down with her pinkie, snapping it to its full length. She practiced twirling it overhead as they flew. When she felt confident, she compressed the button under her thumb, exposing the blades at the ends of her staff.
Comfortable with her ability to control the weapon while riding, she directed the beast toward the trees. With each pass, Pamoon timed the twirl of the staff so that blades were in the right position to cut as they passed. She laughed as they sliced through the branches like a hot knife through butter.
As time went on, both she and the piasa gleamed in a sheet of sweat. Pamoon snapped the staff back to its small shape, placed it in her belt and directed the beast toward a lake. How about a drink? The piasa huffed and flew lower until it hovered by the side of a crystal-clear lake. Pamoon pulled back on the reins, and the piasa touched down. Pamoon dismounted but kept the reins in hand. She moved to the front of the beast and petted its snout. I’m not sure what to call you, but I know you’re still my best friend, so I’m just going to call you, Celia.
The piasa rubbed her head against Pamoon’s chest as a sign. Pamoon heard Celia’s voice in her head. Thank you.
Let’s get a drink and then we’ll fly. Pamoon gestured toward the water. She let go of the reins to let the creature know she trusted it, and dropped to her hands and knees. Leaning over the water, she drank directly from the lake. Lifting her head, Pamoon noticed the piasa drinking. She looked at its refection, but didn’t see a dragon, she saw Celia’s reflection in the water. Can you see your refection?
The piasa stopped drinking and looked into the water and nodded repeatedly. I see my refection, the piasa beamed. Celia’s reflection. Pamoon couldn’t be sure, since its head was dripping with water, but she thought she might have seen a tear roll down its cheek.
You see your true spirit. Pamoon hugged her friend and told her she loved her. The piasa wrapped her massive wings around Pamoon. I love you, too. Together we’ll fight what comes against us.
Pamoon hugged the piasa’s head and kissed her snout.
Once their thirst was quenched, Pamoon held the reins and mounted the creature. With a slight pull on the reins, the piasa spread her wings took to the air. I’m going to draw my sword, Pamoon said. She felt the muscles of the piasa contract. It will be okay, she said.
I’m scared of its power, Celia answered.
Don’t be. Its power is our power. It won’t hurt you. She felt the muscles on the piasa’s back relax beneath her. Pamoon smiled and reached back, drawing the Sword of Truth. She wanted Celia to understand the sword meant her no harm so she gently let the flat side of its blade rest against the creature’s body. The piasa quivered, but soon relaxed when she realized it wouldn’t hurt her. Together they flew toward the trees, cutting anything in their path.
As they flew around the mountains and valleys, Pamoon looked down at the building mist. She thought about flying towards it to see its reaction to the sword, but then she remembered something Powaw had once told her. He said to never show your hand until you have to. With that thought in mind, Pamoon reached behind her, sheathed her blade, and directed Celia back towards the mount. As the mount neared, she spotted Kise and Scout standing on its edge. Using her reins, she directed Celia to the side, and they landed as one on the mount.
Dismounting, she heard Kise and Scout walk toward them. “You have learned a lot in a short amount of time,” Kise said, carrying a cloth bundle.
Pamoon nodded. “We did.” She looked at what Kise was carrying and tilted her head. “Why are you holding a dress? Do you plan on changing?”
“Not me, you,” Kise said, holding the black dress in front of her.
“Me? Why? You don’t like what I wear?”
“I respect your choice of clothing, but this is about something bigger than fashion, this is about surviving in battle.”
“Ha?”
Kise looked at the cave opening at the back of the mount. “Go change and I’ll explain.”
Pamoon knew better than to ask further questions so she took the dress and went to change.
As she walked away, Kise addressed Celia. “You did very well today. I’m proud of you.”
The piasa nodded its thanks. How do I change back? Celia asked.
“Just will it. Command the spirit within you to transform, and it will.”
Celia must have understood, for in a blink of an eye, the piasa was gone, and Celia, the girl, stood next to Kise. Celia hugged Kise thanking her for everything she had taught her. Kise nodded and smiled.
Kise was practically a glow when Pamoon stepped out of the cave. She was wearing a long black gown, complete with cape and hood. The hem of the dress ended just above the toes of her boots and was pinched at her waist. It fit her as if she’d been sewn into it. The sleeves wrapped her upper arms as if painted on, but from the elbow down, they bellowed and hung loose. Pamoon looked and walked like the Goddess she would become. “I don’t know how this is supposed to help me in battle,” she shrugged, holding her arms out from her body, letting the material of the sleeves hand down. “I feel like I’m going to a goth wedding.”
Celia laughed. “But you look beautiful.”
Pamoon blushed. “It’s good to have you back. I mean . . . you know what I mean.”
Celia smiled. “It’s good to be back.”
Pamoon looked at Kise. “Well, are you going to tell me why you think this is better for battle than my jeans and tee shirt?”
Kise walked around Pamoon studying her from every angle. “Put on your weaponry.”
Pamoon did as Kise asked, and as she was about to place the strap of her sword sheath across her shoulder, Kise stopped her. “There is a sheath built into the back of the dress.”
Pamoon turned her head one way and then the other, trying to look behind her. How do I find it? Is it under the cape?”
“Just reach back with your blade and it will find your blade.”
Confusion painted Pamoon’s expression, but knowing a clearer answer wasn’t coming, she reached over her shoulder with her sword and felt it snap into place, like some sort of magnetic force. Again, she turned one way and then the other, trying to figure out how the sword was being held.
“Wow, that is so cool,” Celia said.
“What? What is so cool?”
“When you put the blade of your sword behind you, it became part of your dress. If I didn’t know it was there, I would never guess it.”
“And the handle?” Pamoon said, looking over her shoulder.
Celia looked over her shoulder. “I don’t see it.”
Pamoon eyed Kise.
Understanding the unspoken question, Kise said, “The Sword of Truth has been lost for millennia. It must stay completely hidden until you draw it forth. You must use all of your other weapons, all of your other powers before you even give thought to drawing it.
“What powers?”
“Don’t ever forget that you are destined to become the Kiche. That destiny brings much power along with it.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what those powers are?”
Kise just smiled in response.
Pamoon, tried not to lose her temper, and inhaled deep to quell her emotions. “Okay,” she said, “let’s get back to this dress; besides hiding the sword, how does it help me in battle?”
“Draw your sword and put it through what you would call a training session,” Kise answered. “What your sensei might call a kata.”
Pamoon reached for her sword but failed to find it.
“Use your left hand,” Kise added. “The flame on the handle will find the flame on your hand.”
Pamoon repeated the task with her other hand and this time the sword found her before she finished reaching over her shoulder. Astonished, she drew her sword, held it by her side, and twisted her wrist, spinning the sword in a circle around her arm. She then began to pivot and twirl, moving about the mount, while thrusting and chopping in the maneuvers she had been taught. When she was finished, she stopped, stood in front of Kise and Celia, and bowed slightly; an act of respect she learned while in training. Looking in their eyes, she was surprised by their expressions. Kise was beaming. Celia was slack-jawed. “What? Why are you two looking at me like that?”
“Celia,” Kise said, “what did you see?”
Celia just shook her head. “I’m not sure how to explain it. When Pamoon started spinning, all I saw was a dirt-colored blur. I didn’t know where she was pointing her sword or what direction she was moving.”
Kise nodded. “Exactly. The battle-dress, unlike your jeans and tee shirt, flows with your movements, hiding your next move. It will also adapt to your environment, changing its color to further camouflage your motion. Your dress turned the color of the mount, that’s why Celia saw a dirt-colored blur. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it will be an advantage when you face the enemy. They won’t be able to judge you next move.”
Pamoon grinned, her entire face lighting up. “Nice. I never thought of that.” She reached over her shoulder with her sword to put it away and felt the dress take it from her. With her hands free, she held her arms out from her sides and twirled, paying attention to the movement of the fabric. It swept up and away from her, blocking the position of her legs. No matter her stance, the dress camouflaged her movement. Finished, she looked at the detail of the intricate stitching, becoming self-conscious of how she looked. “Can I change back, now?”
Kise shook her head. “This is your new clothing. It must be worn at all times, whether in this world or the natural one. You never know when the enemy will strike. You need to get used to wearing it.”
“And the sword?”
“It stays with you, always. You won’t even feel its presence until you reach for it.”
Pamoon arched her back, twisted left and right, and finally bent to touch her toes. Kise was right, if she didn’t know better, she wouldn’t know the sword was there.
Finished with her inspection, she turned to speak to Kise, but the Creator was occupied petting and whispering to Scout. Pamoon and Celia used that opportunity to started talking about the dress and their time together while flying. They babbled on and on until they heard Kise clear her throat. They turned to see Kise pick up the reins that had dropped when Celia transformed. The corners of her mouth turned slightly upward before flattening out, her eyes narrowing. Handing the leather strap to Pamoon, she said, “Carry this with you everywhere. You can wear it as a belt when not needed for its designed reason.” Pamoon wrapped the belt around her waist and tied it in front; as soon as the brown leather touched her dress, it became the same material and color. “You both learned a great deal today,” Kise continued, “but don’t forget, the enemy is not a tree branch. It will fight back, with natural and supernatural weapons. You must not underestimate its power. You,” Kise looked at Celia, “must learn to control your fire, for it will be an important weapon in battle. And you,” She turned toward Pamoon, “must become fire.”
Pamoon went to ask her what she meant, but Kise had begun to shift. Her feet hovered above the ground; her body, translucent. Before Pamoon could say a word, all that was left of Kise was white smoke, which drifted from the mount with the wind.
“Whoa,” Celia said, her eyes wide, “what was that?”
“Kise has a habit of doing that,” Pamoon huffed.
“How are we supposed to get home?”
She heard Celia, but wasn’t listening. Her head was spinning with questions left unanswered. What did Kise mean by supernatural weapons? What did becoming fire, mean? She just shook her head, knowing that the answers she needed were elsewhere. Where, she wasn’t sure, but she knew where to look first.
“Pamoon, hello, did you hear me? How are we supposed to get home?”
Scout barked, wagged his tail, and headed toward the cave at the back of the mount. “We follow Scout.” Pamoon said. “The opening in the back of the mount connects to the Spirit Cave.”
33
Further Revelations
Pamoon, Celia and Scout walked through the opening which led to a long cavernous tunnel that led to the Spirit Cave. Celia’s head on a constant swivel as she stopped to look at the murals and etchings that covered the walls. “This is history of our people,” she muttered as she viewed each one. “Not just the Cree, but all Native Americans.”
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it,” Pamoon said, standing beside her.
“I’ll say.”
When they came to the last mural, Celia sucked in a breath. It was an unfinished two-paneled painting of the mount. One side was painted in dark colors, it showed the shadow of the ghost-witch, the wendigo, and Michi Pichoux standing on the mount. All around them was death: the trees bore no leaves, the air was filled with mist, and the lakes were black. “This can’t be,” Celia breathed. Turning to the other panel, she exhaled. This one was painted in bright colors. It showed an unfinished picture of Pamoon and Scout standing beside Kise, the backdrop teemed with life. Looking closer, she saw two shadows: one, a girl and the other, a brave. Pointing to the girl, she asked, “Is that me?”
Pamoon eyed both panels before answering. “It looks like it.” She pointed to the shadow next to the girl. “And that one,” her heart skipped a beat, “I think is Ayas.” She placed her left palm on the painting but felt nothing.
“Why are we shadows?”
“For the same reason that the pictures of the rest of us are unfinished. Our destinies are yet to be determined. Kise’s image is complete because she’s the Creator. She always has been and will continue to be who she is, regardless of the outcome of the war. She pointed to the image of her and Scout. I think because of what Scout and I have been through, our images are more complete, but your destiny is just beginning; therefore, you’re just a shadow.”
“And the brave?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s Ayas, the brave I told you about. His road to the mount is harder to travel than any of ours because of his past. But just seeing his shadow gives me hope.” Her voice cracked as he finished speaking.
Celia looked back at the first panel, the one of the demons and shook her head. “We can’t let this happen.” Then she pointed to the second. “Together, we’ll see this to the end. Together, we will find a way to win this war and make this a reality.”
Pamoon hugged Celia tight. “Thank you,” she breathed.
As they reached the end of the long tunnel, they came to the point at the very back of the Spirit Cave, the point where the dividing wall stood. To one side, the way to the Mount, to the other, the way to the Netherworld. Pamoon wanted to hurry past this point, she didn’t want to think about the past, but Celia pulled her to a stop. “What is this place?”
Pamoon told her and Celia pointed to the Cree words etched into the dividing wall. “What does it say?”
Pamoon tugged on Celia’s arm. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Celia tugged back. “Don’t treat me like that. I need to know.”
As much as Pamoon wanted to protect Celia, she knew she was right. Her friend had a right to know, so she read what was etched in the rock. “One side leads to the Spirit Mount, the other leads to the Netherworld, from which there is no return.”
