Spirits Collide, page 9
part #2 of Evil Awakened Series
“And if I choose wrong?”
“Then we will leave and search for the one who can help us—the one destined to become the Kiche.”
“And what if I choose correctly?”
“Then we will gather the Little People of all tribes to fight by your side.”
“Why would you risk your lives for me?”
“It is written in the stars that ‘one as white as winter’s snow will come to save a nation.’ We would gladly lay down our lives for her.”
Pamoon sat, cross-legged in the middle of the dugout room and eyed the bowls. “You wish me to choose one of these three? That’s the test before me?”
Kwanokasha pointed once more at the bowls. “Choose.”
Pamoon fiddled with her ring—a ring left to her by Kamenna as she pondered her choice. She watched Scout sniff all three as if he, too, was trying to decide. Her mind made up, she stopped twisting her ring and crawled to the bowls. She placed her left palm over each, but each made the flame on her hand tingle as much as the others. “I choose all three.”
She heard Mantema and Shikoba grumble at her indecision. Kwanokasha stamped the tip of his walking stick on a rock to silence them. “You must choose one,” he emphasized.
“I cannot. I choose them all.”
Kwanokasha stared at her in disbelief.
“Do you wish to know why my decision is final?”
He nodded.
“I choose the berries for they are medicine, and I wish to help those who are ailing. I choose the herbs for their poison. Our enemies are many. If I can place them in their drinking water, I can weaken their flesh and spirit. And finally, I choose the knife to fight the battle that is imminent.”
Kwanokasha’s harsh expression softened as he heard her explanation. “Only one with the spirit of the Kiche would answer such.” He stepped forward, laid his staff at her feet and proclaimed her to be the one of legends. “The Kowi Anukasha are at your service, Goddess. Tell us how we can be of assistance.”
Hearing Kwanokasha’s words, Shikoba embraced Pamoon in a powerful hug. “I knew you were the one,” he whispered in her ear.
Pamoon hugged back and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for your faith in me.”
“I have many questions,” Pamoon said. “The sacred wind you spoke of, what did it smell like?”
“That is an odd question,” Kwanokasha said.
“Please,” Pamoon said. “It is important.”
“Birch,” Shikoba answered. “The wind on which the eagles flew smelled of birch.”
Stunned at what he heard, Mantema’s eyed his brother. “Shikoba, you’re not lisping.”
Realizing his brother was right, tears of joy ran down his cheeks. His head bowed, he addressed Pamoon. “Thank you, Kiche.”
Pamoon not knowing what else to do, nodded in response. Scout approached and licked Shikoba’s tears before they could fall. His actions brought smiles to all.
“Why is the aroma of the wind important?” Kwanokasha asked.
“You know of the Wandering Spirit?”
“The outcast? All Native Americans have heard stories of his misdeeds and his curse.”
Pamoon smiled. “He is no longer cursed. He came to my rescue when I battled Kanontsistonties. It is only because of his unselfishness and bravery that I am still alive.”
Kwanokasha sat on his haunches and stared at Pamoon. “We have been hearing stories of such a battle, but we didn’t think it was real.”
“The stories you heard are true.”
“Will you tell us what happened?”
Pamoon nodded and recited the story of how Kanontsistonties was released from his confinement. She told of her friends turned demons and how with Ayas’ help, she was able to defeat the Flying Head and his demonic brood. When she finished, she slumped, her shoulders slouched. “I’m afraid I was not able to save all my friends, maybe none of them.”
“The friends you speak of, are they three young braves?”
Pamoon looked at Kwanokasha. “How did you know?”
Mantema and Shikoba have watched them as they have tried to follow you when you run in the woods. They are not swift enough to keep up, but they grow in strength, especially in the last three days.”
“Three days?” Pamoon questioned. “Is that how long I’ve been gone since I stepped into the Misty Woods?”
“Eha,” Kwanokasha nodded. “You didn’t know?”
Pamoon shook her head. “Time passes a faster rate in the Spirit World. I forget how fast.”
“For the past three days, the young braves have returned to the bent trees, trying to enter the mist. Each time they try, they are thrown back, but each time they try, they are changed,” Mantema said.
Pamoon felt a chill run up her spine. “Changed how?”
“Their muscularity grows larger, their anger increases, and their spirits, if I’m reading them correctly, are less human.”
Pamoon held the hands of Mantema and Shikoba. “You must stay as far from them as possible. Do not follow them and stay hidden at all costs, do you understand?”
Fear blossomed in the eyes of the Little People.
“Tell us why,” Kwanokasha said.
“The blood of Kanontsistonties still flows through their bodies. Evil lives in the mist. I’m afraid each time they try to enter, one who is stronger than them is aiding in their transformation.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Shikoba asked.
“The leader of the Netherworld, the Michi Pichoux.”
Hearing the name of the Water panther shocked the little people. “The friend you could not save,” Kwanokasha nodded.
Pamoon’s eye lids grew heavy, the corners of her mouth turned downward. “I’m afraid so. He is the one who has woken the demons from their hibernation.”
“The wendigo and the Skadegamutc.”
“The Skadegamutc?” The demons I saw etched on the Spirit Cave wall were Ghost-witches?”
“If you witnessed orbs of white light transform into hideous, almost skeletonized demons, then yes, you witnessed the Skadegamutc.”
Pamoon’s first thought was of Ayas standing in the field facing hundreds of these demonic witches. Her pulse quickened and her mind raced, as her thoughts became jumbled. She tried to separate her thoughts and fears like she would the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle prior to assembly. “The eagle that brought you word of the demons, was it a Golden eagle?”
Kwanokasha nodded. “The great wind, the one you call Ayas, dispersed them to the corners of our nations. They are his eyes and ears. They have witnessed the birth of both the wendigo and the Skadegamutc. They race to warn our peoples of a great war that will take place. A war for the Spirit Mount.”
The Valley of Blood, Pamoon thought. “And if they win?”
“Evil will be triumphant. Man and beast will lose their free-will.”
“Do you know where this war will take place?”
“No, the wind has not revealed the place of battle, but I know it will be in the south.”
“How do you know?”
“It is the direction the eagles fly.”
“Kisemanito revealed to me that the battle will take place in Cherokee territory in a place known as the Valley of Blood. Do you know of such a place?”
Kwanokasha blanched. “I have heard tales of such a place. The Golden eagles will lead us.”
“Then you must gather the Little People and make your way to the valley. Ayas needs your help.”
Kwanokasha picked up his staff and bowed. “We will do as Kiche asks.”
Pamoon kissed them all on their cheeks. “My spirit will be with you until I can join you.”
“Why can’t you go with us?” Shikoba asked.
“Kiche has much to do before she can join the fight.”
Pamoon cocked her head to the side. “What is it you think I need to do?”
“First,” Kwanokasha said, emptying the bowls in her pack, “take what you have claimed. You may need all three.”
Pamoon watched as the chieftain took an empty wooden bowl, spit in it, sprinkled in some herbs from a pouch, crushed them with his walking stick, added dirt from the ground, and a bit of water. He then stirred it all together until it became a watery mud. Kwanokasha then took off his shirt and laid it out on the ground. Pamoon gasped at the scars that riddled his chest and back. Kwanokasha didn’t look up as he stirred the mud and poured it on his shirt. “My scars are my reminders that even when you win a battle, a small piece of you dies.” Staring at the design the mud made as it ran over his shirt, a look of confusion flushed his expression.
“What does that tell you?” Pamoon asked.
“It makes no sense.”
“Please. Tell me what you see.”
“Spirits will collide in a great battle. Demons will choose sides and battle their own. All will be lost without the one who controls the fire.” He looked up at Pamoon. “It says you must fight with the fire you received from your mother. You must discover the power of your fire before you can join us in the valley.”
“Why?”
Kwanokasha looked at Pamoon with what seemed like fear or maybe sadness. “Without it, we will be defeated. Without it, you will die.”
Pamoon needed to talk to White Eagle. She needed to find out why everyone spoke of fire. She thanked the Kowi Anukasha for their help and was about to leave when she thought of something. “When you saw the young braves in the woods, was there a girl with them?”
All three shook their heads. Their response brought a smile to Pamoon’s face and a bit of hope to her spirit.
Scampering out of the lair, Pamoon had one more question. “How will I find the valley when I’m ready?”
“Follow the Golden eagles, they will know where to go.” Kwanokasha answered.
Pamoon blew them a kiss and before she could crawl out of the hole, she witnessed them disappear before her eyes.
Pamoon didn’t stop running until she stood at the border of the woods and reservation.
25
Celia
Pamoon and Scout hid behind a group of Palmetto bushes and scrub pines as they watched Bobby and the others load up in his rusted pickup truck and tear out of the reservation, kicking up shell-rock and dirt in their wake.
As soon as they were out of sight, Pamoon wasted no time. She ran home where she hid her sword and pack under a blanket in the back of her jeep, then raced across the reservation to Celia’s house. Her nerves got the best of her as she stood on the porch of Celia’s home. She was afraid of Celia’s reaction. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her nerves and knocked on the screen door. She heard footsteps and Celia’s mother’s voice yell out. “I’ll get it.”
Pamoon relaxed a bit when Debbie smiled as she opened the door. “Pamoon, how nice to see you. I heard you returned from Canada, but I haven’t seen you around.”
Pamoon blushed. “Sorry, it’s been a crazy time since,” her eyes downturned, she shuffled her feet, “you know.”
Debbie nodded. “I know, but thank goodness that’s all behind us.”
There was an awkward silence between them. “Is Celia home?”
Debbie ran her hand through her thick hair. “Of course,” she said, opening the door wider. “Come in. She’ll be happy to see you.”
Pamoon motioned Scout to stay on the porch as she stepped inside. I’m not so sure about that, she thought.
“Have a seat. Celia’s in her room. I’ll go get her.”
Pamoon stood next to the door, wanting a quick exit in case things didn’t go well. She heard murmuring coming from Celia’s room and then saw her ex-best friend standing by her bedroom door.
Celia looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, her hair was matted, and she was wearing a tank-top and pajama bottoms that looked like they needed washing. Pamoon watched as Celia shuffled forward, shoulders slouched, looking even more apprehensive than Pamoon felt.
She looks terrible, but at least she doesn’t look mad.
“I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do, so I’m just going to leave you alone,” Debbie said with a weak smile.
Celia, her head down, cut her eyes toward Pamoon. “Hey,” she mouthed.
“Hey.”
When Debbie was in the other room, Celia glanced outside before shutting the door. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said. “If the guys knew—”
“They just left in Bobby’s truck,” Pamoon interjected. “I wouldn’t do anything to make them mad at you.”
Celia’s lips quivered, her hair covering the side of her face.
Pamoon noticed a greenish-yellow mark on her cheek and brushed her hair aside. Celia went to block her, but Pamoon grabbed her wrist. “Did someone hit you?”
Celia shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“It was Bobby, wasn’t it?”
Celia’s eyes welled up. “You really shouldn’t be here.” Her words were choked, as if she was trying not to cry.
“I won’t stay if you don’t want me to,” Pamoon said, sadness bleeding through her words. She turned to leave, but Celia grabbed her, pulled her into a hug and wept silently on her shoulder.
“Please don’t leave,” she huffed between sobs.
“Is everything okay?” Debbie yelled from the kitchen. “Do I hear crying?”
Celia lifted her head off Pamoon’s shoulder, her pupils dilated, her eyes red and swollen, as she shook her head.
“Everything’s fine,” Pamoon yelled back. “There just happy tears because I missed my best friend.”
She heard Debbie sigh. “That’s good to hear. There have been too many sad tears around this house lately.”
“Come on,” Celia said, taking Pamoon’s hand. “Let’s go to my room.”
Wait,” Pamoon tugged back. “If it’s okay, I’m going to bring Scout inside. I don’t want to leave him on the porch, just in case the guys return.”
Celia wiped her nose with her shirt and nodded.
Once inside. Pamoon waited to see if Scout became protective around Celia, but he bounded down the hall, wagging his tail, just like the old days.
Celia was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, waiting for her. When Pamoon came in, Celia practically jumped into her arms, hugging her as if her life depended on it. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said.
“Me too,” Pamoon whispered.
Celia sat back, fiddling with the fringe on her bedspread. Pamoon eyed her friend with deep sadness. She knew she had to help Celia get away from the guys.
“Celia,” she said, taking her best friend’s hand in her own, “do you remember anything about what happened when you were kidnapped?”
Celia shrugged, not looking up. “Sort of. But every day, the memories get more confusing.”
“Like how?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”
Pamoon scooted closer to her friend. “Try. It’s important.”
Celia squinted, her lips quivering. “Why?”
“Please, just tell me what you remember.”
“At first, I remembered being captured by that weird old man and taken into the Glades. When he took me to the cabin, I saw the guys tied up and beaten. I was so afraid we were going to be killed, or that I was going to be raped.” She stopped to wipe a tear.
“And?”
“It’s all a blur, like we were drugged or something. The next thing I remembered was being rescued by you and Scout.”
Pamoon breathed a sigh of relief. A relief that died with Celia’s next words.
“But since we returned home, my memories started to change,” Celia said, her eyes downcast. “Every time I fall asleep, I have nightmares that . . . that change what I think I knew. They’re so scary, I try not to sleep at all.”
That explains the dark circles, Pamoon internalized.
“What do you see in your nightmares?”
Celia shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. You’d think I was crazy.”
Pamoon knew what she was about to do was a huge risk, but she had to do it. “If I do something, will you promise not to scream?”
Celia shuffled back on her bed. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” Her words broke as her body shook.
Pamoon ran her right hand through her friend’s hair and over the bruise on her face. “I would never hurt you. But I need you to know the truth, and sometimes truth is even more frightening than our nightmares.”
“I, I just want the nightmares to end,” Celia breathed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “If you can stop them from coming, I’ll do anything.”
I pray I’m right, Pamoon thought, wiping her left palm on her jeans. Kise, give me a sign, she prayed.
Use the powers you’ve been given.
Hearing Kise’s words, Pamoon took a deep breath and smiled meekly at Celia. “Whatever happens in the next few minutes, don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Celia huffed between tears.
“It’s better I show you. Are you ready?”
Celia nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Pamoon placed her left palm on Celia’s forehead. “Just let the thoughts and images come. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Pamoon felt her power pour into Celia. She closed her eyes and replayed the war between her and Kanontsistonties. Opening her eyes, she witnessed Celia quake with each truth that poured into her. She saw pain on her friend’s face as she was bitten by Mike. She saw anger when Celia, in the form or the piasa—the fire-breathing dragon—tried to kill her. She saw anguish and hatred as they fought in the Netherworld.
With each new emotion, Celia tried to back away. She swatted at Pamoon’s arm trying to break the hold Pamoon had on her forehead, but with every action, Pamoon reacted, never releasing her hold. Not until the end of the final battle when Celia was released from Kanontsistonties spell.
As Pamoon witnessed her final battle with Mike, Celia opened her mouth to scream. Pamoon quickly covered Celia’s mouth with her free hand, muffling her friend’s screams. When the images finally ended, Celia fainted, falling back on her bed.
Pamoon removed her palm from Celia’s forehead, leaving behind a faint mark in the shape of her flame. Not knowing what to do or how Celia would react when she woke, Pamoon gripped her staff, just in case.
