Spirits Collide, page 22
part #2 of Evil Awakened Series
Isko kiya kawi pecikewin nîwas, niya nipa kahkiyaw ekwa kahkiyaw awiyak kiya kasispowihew
Pamoon read aloud the bloodied scratches, “Unless you return what is sacred to me, I’ll kill everything and everyone you cherish.”
The threats from Michi-Pichoux triggered something deep—something base—inside Pamoon. If the panther had threatened her, she could have held her emotions in check, but to know that the hell-born demon had killed mercilessly as nothing more than a message to her, ripped her to the core.
Staring at the wall, a scowl creased her lips, the sword on her back, still embedded in her dress, began to burn hotter than ever before, but instead of burning externally, its flames turned inward igniting the fire that had been smoldering in her gut—in her soul—for days. As the two flames combined, they churned through her blood until they made their way to the birthmark on her left palm. The mark on her hand burned deep and hot. When Pamoon looked at her palm, it was like looking into the sun. Pamoon felt the heat, yet her flesh didn’t burn. Reaching out with her hand, she directed it at the marks carved into the wall, focused her energy, and a flame shot from her hand like water from a fire hose, scorching everything in its path.
As the fire blazed, a scorn-filled scream tore through her lungs until it burst from her lips; all her pent-up aggression and sorrow mixed together until the sound was so base it became a vibration. As the vibration grew to a tremor, the walls of the house started to crack. As Pamoon continued to scream, she moved from room to room burning everything. Her childhood home was ablaze, and she and Scout were in the midst of the fire, the flames engulfing them until they were one with the fire.
From the perimeter of the woods, Ayas smelled the smoke before anyone else. With the others in tow, he ran onto the reservation, his sense of smell leading the way.
“Smoke!” Tihk yelled. “It looks like it’s coming from Kamenna’s house.”
By the time they reached Kamenna’s house, the entire thing was one huge torch. Fire shot from the windows and out the roof. Each time they attempted to get close to the house, the heat and flames turned them away.
“Where’s Pamoon?” Celia bellowed. “She can’t be inside, she just can’t.”
Ayas turned his nose to the sky and instantly transformed into wind, twisting into a tornado and shot up into the air and headed west.
“Where’s he going?” Tsomah said.
“The everglades,” Tihk said, understanding Ayas’ intention. “He’s going to drag water back and try to douse the fire.”
Within minutes, Ayas returned, his cloud now black and heavy. The spout paused over the burning house, unwound and dropped tons of water onto the flames.
Transforming back to his human form, he landed next to Celia. “I don’t understand, that should have been enough water to put out the fire,” he said.
“Her fire is stronger than your water,” Jim said.
“What are you talking about?” Celia said.
“He’s right,” Ayas said, remembering what the Goddess Freyja had told him. “Pamoon has elemental powers. Somehow, she tapped into her fire.”
“You mean she didn’t do that with her sword?” Tihk said.
Ayas shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“But how can she survive those flames?” Celia cried. “It’s impossible.”
An explosion stopped all conversation. Wood and debris, glowing red-hot, shot up in the air and came raining down all around them.
“Cover and run,” Tihk yelled.
“No. Stay in a tight circle, I’ll protect you,” Ayas yelled, once again transforming into wind. A fierce gale blew above those huddled together, tossing the burning embers away from them until the fiery rain ceased.
Everyone, Ayas included, watched in disbelief as a figure, two figures, both fully engulfed in flames, emerged from what was left of the home. No one could make out their features, but from their shapes one appeared to be walking on two legs and the other four. As the figures moved towards them, the flames receded, like dirt sucked into a vacuum, and then as if nothing had happened, Pamoon and Scout moved toward them. Pamoon’s dress and Scout’s fur turning from a fire-engine red to their natural colors by the time they stood in front of them.
Ayas looked at Pamoon and Scout, yet neither seemed to be able to focus; it was if they were looking through him, not at him, but at least they were alive and unhurt.
Pamoon turned back to what was left of her home, balled her hands into fists, screamed at the top of her lungs, and dropped to one knee, driving her left hand into the ground causing a tremor to rumble deep below the earth’s crust. In no time, fissures developed, running towards her destroyed home until what looked like a sinkhole appeared, swallowing what was left of the burning embers. When Pamoon lifted her fist from the ground, the quaking stopped, the fissures sealed, and the hole disappeared.
Without as much as one word, Pamoon turned and walked off reservation land.
50
Promise Fulfilled
A month of mourning had passed and it was time to move forward. Tihk had been named the newest and youngest chief of the Cree, and with the help of the Seminoles, he and those who had survived started rebuilding the reservation.
As for Pamoon, she felt more and more out of place and knew she faced an uncertain future. Every day since what had become known as The Burning, she had trained with Ayas and Celia, honing their fighting skills. At night, alone in her tee pee, she practiced controlling her fire, making balls of flame appear and disappear on her palm, tossing them into the sky and dousing them out before they landed or did any damage.
She still didn’t understand how she was able to control the earth the way she did, nor was she able to replicate it. She had tried, but other than bruised knuckles, nothing happened. Pamoon knew the day would come when her power would reveal itself, she just wished it was now.
Ayas told her about his time in front of the Gods and Goddesses and what Freyja had told him about the two of them controlling nature’s elements. When she questioned him further about how they were to use those skills, he had no answer.
Although she and Ayas shared her tee pee on a few nights, Pamoon was not ready for complete physical intimacy, and Ayas was respectful of her decision. He stayed most of his nights at white Eagle’s home, being pampered by Nuna.
Even as she woke, Pamoon knew this day was different from the others. It was not even sunrise when she made her way to the sweat lodge. Arriving, she knelt in front of the lodge, faced east, and said a prayer, welcoming the new day. After lighting the ceremonial fire, she went inside, stripped off her dress, sat cross-legged on the cedar floor, and meditated. She did so in remembrance of White Eagle, in honor or Powaw, and to try to keep love in her heart. A love Kamenna had taught her, a love that Kamenna said could defeat any evil this world could dish out. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t shake her hatred for what happened and her want for revenge. By the time she left the lodge, she knew she could no longer stay on the reservation. It was time to make her own way.
Returning from the sweat lodge, Pamoon met with Ayas and Celia to tell them of her plan. “I need to help Jim start a new life,” she said.
“Why can’t he just stay here?” Celia asked.
“Although he is welcomed by our people, he wishes to leave and to try and find any relatives he may have.”
“What are you planning?” Ayas asked.
“I made a phone call yesterday, and I know someone who is going to help him. I’m planning on taking him to her today and then I’ll be back later tonight.”
“And then?” Ayas said.
“And then I’m leaving,” Pamoon answered. “Kise once told me never to go looking for evil, but I’m not waiting for Michi-Pichoux and the others to attack again. I’m going to hunt them down and bring the fight to them.”
“I’m going with you,” Celia said.
Pamoon shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that. You have your family here.”
“I’ve already talked to my parents about this and they agree. Because of who and what I am, I belong by your side. Don’t try to talk me out of it, I’m going wherever you go.”
The corners of Pamoon’s mouth rose as she nodded.
“My heart belongs with yours,” Ayas said, taking Pamoon’s hand. “We’ll be ready to leave when you get back.”
A half hour later, Pamoon and Jim piled into her jeep and headed north.
Glancing at Jim while driving, Pamoon noticed him gripping the sides of his seat as if his life depended on it. “You can relax, Jim, I promise we’re safe.”
Jim, wide-eyed, shook his head. “The world sure isn’t what it used to be. This is like a thousand head of stampeding horses mixed with some odd dance. Cars weaving in and out, moving left and right, yet none of them have hit one another. I don’t know if I can get used to this.”
Pamoon laughed at his analogy. “I guess it is a type of dance. You’ll get used to it. I’ll ask Joanne to teach you how to drive.”
Jim relaxed a little, yet continued to grip the sides of his seat. “Tell me about Joanne. You told me she was your birth mother but didn’t raise you. Why was that?”
Pamoon sucked in her lower lip thinking how to explain. “Joanne was very young when she found out she was pregnant, and she was a dru—she was sick at the time. She knew she couldn’t raise a child, so she left me at the medical center on the reservation.”
“And you never heard from her?”
“Not personally. I didn’t know it, but Kamenna had been in constant contact with her. I never met her until just before everything happened.”
“What everything?”
“Everything. You, Ayam, the Kowi Anukasha, the Valley of Blood . . . everything.”
They continued talking about life and family, Jim sharing his memories and Pamoon sharing her happiest ones, and before they knew it, Pamoon pulled off the highway and onto Joanne’s street. Pulling into the driveway, Pamoon choked back a tear, remembering the last time she was here, the only time, the time she came with White Eagle. Her memory of him so strong that when she looked over at Jim, for just a moment, she saw her uncle sitting beside her.
She took a deep breath, turned off the car and smiled at Jim. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Pamoon nodded and opened the door.
Simultaneously, the front door to the house opened and Joanne appeared, she wore a sundress, part of her hair pulled back, the other half framed her face. The way the sun shined down on her made Jim gasp.
“Are you okay?” Pamoon asked.
Jim just nodded and stared.
Joanne met Pamoon at the bottom of the front steps and wrapped her arms around her, kissing her cheek and forehead. Pamoon felt her mother’s love and hugged back, part of her never wanting to let go. After separating, Pamoon saw Joanne give her the once over with a head-to-toe glance.
“Interesting dress,” Joanne said, one eyebrow cocked.
“You have no idea,” Pamoon laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Joanne said.
“Your expression, the one with your eyebrow raised, I make the same one when I see or hear something strange.”
Joanne blushed. “I didn’t think it was strange, I just—”
Pamoon laughed harder. “Don’t dig a deeper hole, I get it, I really do.”
Joanne looked at Jim and smiled. “Introduce me to your friend.”
“Jim,” Pamoon said, waiving him closer, “this is Joanne, my mom.”
Joanne snapped her head in Pamoon’s direction, she looked stunned but then smiled ear-to-ear. Looking back at Jim, she held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jim. Pamoon has told me a lot about you, and I look forward to getting to know you.”
“M, me, too,” Jim stammered, shaking Joanne’s hand.
“I made some lunch,” Joanne pointed to the open door, “why don’t we go inside.”
“Sounds great,” Pamoon said. “I’ll help Jim with his things, and we’ll be right in.”
Back at the jeep, Pamoon looked at Jim. “Are you okay?”
“She’s beautiful,” Jim said, grabbing his duffel bag out of the back.
Pamoon laughed. “Yeah, I guess she is.” She shut the back door, and hip checked Jim as they walked to the house. “Try and keep your tongue from dragging on the floor when we walk in.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Pamoon chuckled. “Just be yourself. Something tells me you two are going to get along just fine.”
After lunch, Joanne showed Jim the house, and the room he would be staying in. “I know it’s not much,” she shrugged, “but I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
“It’s more than I could ever ask for,” Jim replied. As he put his bag down on the bed, he heard the whinnying of horses. “Do you have horses?”
“A couple, want to see them?”
Jim’s expression brightened. “I’d love to.”
“Follow me.”
Out back, Joanne showed Jim her barn, small corral, and introduced him to her horses. “The pinto is Jasper,” she said, “and the quarter-horse is Captain.” Jim petted each, but his interest seemed to lie with a black mare that was stabled away from the others. “Who is that?”
“That is my new addition. I call her Flake because she’s a bit crazy. I have a friend who works for an equine rescue. They were going to put her down if no one took her, so I did. I’m sort of regretting it, to be truthful.”
“Why?”
“I can’t even get close to her. She has bitten and kicked the others, so I had to fence off part of the corral and keep her separated.”
“May I?”
Joanne shrugged. “If you want to try, please do, just be careful.”
Jim made his way back to the kitchen, grabbed an apple from a bowl and stepped out back. Joanne watched him stride off the back porch, over to the smaller of the corrals, and open the gate. The mare moved to the opposite end as soon as the gate cracked open.
Jim didn’t try to approach the mare, he just removed his shirt, squatted down, rubbed his hands in the dirt and manure, then wiped his dirty hands on his chest.
“What the heck is he doing,” Joanne thought aloud.
She continued to watch as Jim stood, grabbed a hackamore from the fence post and tied the reins around his waist. With small steps, he made his way across the ring. With each closing step, Flake became more agitated, throwing her powerful head up and down, stomping at the dirt. Jim stopped about five feet from the mare who had backed herself into a corner. He squatted down and pulled the apple out of his pocket, taking a big bite.
Joanne watched in amazement as Jim chewed the apple only to spit part of it back in his free hand. What the hell? She thought.
Jim stood, his hand stretched straight out and took one step closer. Joanne could see Flake’s nostrils flare at the scent of the apple. A few tentative moments later, Flake stepped closer to Jim, who did the same. In no time, Flake was eating the chewed apple from his hand. In response, Jim repeated the process until after a few bites, the mare nudged his hand as he brought it to his mouth. Jim smiled, and placed the rest of the apple in his open palm, presenting it to Flake who, with a swish of her tail, ate it in one bite.
Joanne was mesmerized as Jim then placed both of his hands on Flake’s head and began to pet and talk to her. Before long, he dropped one hand to his waist, untied the reins and gently laid them over her back. After a few more minutes of petting, Jim removed the reins, and walked back toward the gate. Flake kept in stride a step behind, playfully pushing him forward with her nose. Reaching the gate, Jim replaced the hackamore on the gate post, scratched under the mare’s muscular neck, and stepped outside, relocking the gate.
Rejoining Joanne on the back porch, she just stared at him, her eyes smiling as she did. “That was incredible,” she said, leaning against the porch rail.
Jim just shrugged. “I’ve always had a way with animals. We just seem to have a natural connection.”
“And that thing with the dirt and manure?” Joanne said glancing at his muck-streaked bare chest.
Jim blushed, remembering he didn’t have his shirt on. “One reason animal fear humans is our scent. They sense our fear, or worse, our aggression and respond accordingly. I just made my scent as close to hers as I could to help erase her anxiety.”
Joanne just shook her head. “You’re going to have to teach me your techniques . . . except for the whole taking off your shirt thing,” she blushed.
Jim looked down, blushing even deeper. “Maybe I should go wash up, then we’ll find Pamoon.”
Joanne pointed to the far edge of her property. “While we were with the horses, she walked backed there.”
Jim looked past the corral and gasped. “Oh, no.” He looked back at Joanne, yelled for her to stay put, and ran towards the back of the property.
Reaching the edge of an open field, he saw Pamoon and Scout staring at the woods . . . the Misty Woods. “What does this mean?” he asked.
She cut her eyes towards him and looked down at Scout before peering back into the woods. “I’m not sure. You remember what I told you I read on my bedroom wall?”
“Of course,” Jim said.
“The mist always seems to arrive ahead of evil. It could be a sign that Michi-Pichoux knows where my mother lives.” She turned back to Jim, her eyes mere slits, her lips thin, “If the mist leaves the woods, promise me you’ll take her away from here. Promise me you’ll protect her.”
In a blink, Jim’s features shifted to those of the wendigo before turning back to human. “You have my word.”
“Woe, what the heck was that?”
“You weren’t the only one practicing your powers the past weeks,” he answered. “Celia helped teach me how to tap into my demon and how to control it.”
Pamoon sighed relief. “Good to know.”
An hour later, Pamoon said her goodbyes, promising to stay in touch and to come visit as soon as possible.
